Fandom THE WAR OF TWO QUEENS

[slim]

THE WAR OF TWO QUEENS

INTRO.

Summer was finally drawing to a close, and Maesters, northmen, and old folk alike knew what was drawing near. It had been a bountiful summer indeed, but it had gone on for far too long... and now the children who had been born into these pleasant and sunny times would spend their adolescence in the dark, harsh winter. For the commonfolk, it would be a time of hardship & probable suffering, with not enough to go around even with a honest harvest from their fields. For the Great Houses and the Queen, however, their fates were less arduous. Instead of worrying about if there was enough food to go around, the Lords and Ladies sat on their bountiful yields and coin and bickered like children as they turned their eyes towards the throne.
Queen Rhaella's ascension to the Iron Throne and her methodology had not been forgotten. Never had Westeros had a Queen who's claim was uncontested, for the Great Council of 101 AC had solidified the choosing of male heirs over female...yet there weren't even any male Targaryens to be considered. The small council had overlooked the great crime of kinslaying, but the Great Houses grumbled at the misfortune it would bring the realm. That, and the girl refused to marry. Within the first week of her coronation, she had met with nearly every suitor from the Great and some lesser houses. They paraded like peacocks and showered her with gifts while her small council was in her ear reminding her of all that could be possibly gained in an alliance with each of them. She danced the tiring dance of pretend interest and kept her mannerisms vague as if truly considering their offers, but no Lords received a word from the Queen. She sat on the throne proud, and swore it would be hers alone. And so it was for three years. She ruled as fairly as any young ruler could, and besides the targaryen madness that lurked beneath the service, it was said she was a good ruler. But peace is a fragile thing, and alliances are not often made with simple words. Rhaella had to produce a heir eventually, surely? Soon her rule was getting critiqued, dissatisfaction and discontented rumblings reached the ears of the small council. "Even a King on the throne soon hears bad mouthing if he does not find a wife." And so, the Queen's Tournament was arranged, ravens were sent to all Great and lesser houses, and once more possible suitors from Lords to knights made their way to King's Landing for a week long affair and a chance to woo the dragon.

WINTER IS COMING.

coded by weldherwings.

 

[savageshores]

Location

Casterly Rock

Outfit

Here

Mentions

Markas Lannister

hear me roar

cassia lannister

Cassia's eyes blink open to a towering figure casting a shadow across her bedsheets. The silhouette is one she is accustomed to, one she detests on mornings like this, and fears at night.

Maestar Jarak has a letter between his slender fingers. Oh, she remembers now. They are to leave for Kings Landing. Queen Rhaella would be hosting a tournament of potential suitors, and whilst Cassia didn't meet the criteria, the Maestar made it clear there would be leftovers for her. The thought of it twists her stomach.

"Would you rather me come back next summer? Sleeping seems the only talent you have these days."

She pushes herself up, sitting straight up in bed, shoulders back. Just like she was taught. The elegant posture that had been whipped into her spine using multiple sticks, and then swords to drive the point home, came as second nature. The sound of the blade languidly slicing into her skin had bothered her more than the sting, or the sensation of droplets of blood trickling down her backside.

"When would we leave?" She asks quietly, it would take some time to fix her into the picture of Lady Lannister.

His piercing eyes rake over her, presumably contemplating the same.

She grows uncomfortable under the stare.

"Fetch your brush."

Cassia used to have handmaidens, one particularly close to her heart, they existed in the same sphere and rarely spoke a word, but the support was meaningful. They came and went, either too kind, or too audacious in the cruel treatment. When he expelled them one by one, she suspected Maestar Jarak wanted to inflict that torture himself.

She climbs out of bed to do his bidding, taking the brush by its ornate wooden handle from the dresser. It is rarely used, only placed in view as a reminder that her curls would eventually be untangled and painfully so. She positions herself in front of the mirror as he sidles up behind her, plucking the brush from her hand. He drops the letter in front of her.

"You understand what is expected of you."

It is a statement. Her spine straightens involuntarily. "I understand, Maestar."

"With everything you have been taught... if you are able to walk away from this tournament without a single man wanting you, then there truly is no hope."

She stares at herself in the mirror. Consistently being told she was not Lannister enough, not beautiful enough, just not enough used to leave her a heaping mess beneath her covers. But the girl staring back was resigned.

"I would remind you," his eyes meet hers in the reflection. "You do not want me to be responsible for finding you a suitor. Or your Uncle." His mouth ticks into a small smirk and she's forced to shift her gaze to her lap. Her hands twist together. No, that was the last thing she wanted and she had stopped wanting long ago.

"You will be required to sing, Cassia."

Cassia takes a deep breath and unlinks her fingers, folding her hands neatly in her lap. "I understand, Maestar."

It was not rare that when House Lannister had visitors to Casterly Rock, or she was whisked away to endless events in different capitals, in which Cassia would sing for the nobles. Her voice, she suspected, was the reason the Maestar had not given up on her. There was one talent that came effortless and he exploited that at all opportunities. Fortunately, she enjoyed singing. It earned her the title of songbird, her usual quiet and delicate voice could reach an elegant pitch, demanding all to pay attention to her capabilities. In her spare time, she wrote her own songs. She wrote one for Queen Rhaella.

She winces as the brush snags on a curl.

---

Outside the carriage, endless people bustled around, loading the carriages and feeding horses. Cassia stood beside hers, awaiting Uncle Markas and Maestar Jarak as they would be travelling with her. Already her head had begun to pound at the thought of a very long trip in a confined space with them.

Whilst it was summer, with Casterly Rock sitting on the edge of a cliff and by the sea, the wind was harsh. Cassia draws her beige coat tightly around the yellow summery gown beneath. She could not deny how nice it felt to dress the part. Events and the like were strongly detested by Cassia, as Maestar Jarak was an exemplified nightmare, but this was the few solaces she found, dressing as a Lannister princess. She wonders how it made her mother feel.

Enigma, her cream pinto mare, snorts ahead of her. She moves closer, flats tapping delicately against the cobblestone. "I know," she tells Enigma, stroking her flank. "I do not wish to go either." Enigma seems to throw a look over her shoulder and Cassia lets a smile slip. She believed her horse to be the only being on this rock that could understand how she felt.

"Lady Cassia."

Maestar Jarak appears beside her as if from smoke. Had he heard her?

"Your Uncle is on his way. Wait for him inside. I must attend to a few matters before boarding myself, it will be just you two for the first leg."

Relief swept through her and she nods. She gives Enigma one last pat on her backside before climbing into the carriage and fanning the cloak out beneath her. She could perhaps deal with one Lannister without a splitting headache.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[c h a n a]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood uneasy

location pyke

outfit inspo inspo inspo

music vibes take a listen

interactions lady greyjoy, unnamed friend

adria greyjoy

/* ------ right side ------ */

it was early. a chilly breeze whistled through the docks, and adria could hear the men clamoring into the boats and along the muddy paths as they sailed out to the fleet. the sun was just rising on the horizon, casting hues of orange and blue into the atmosphere and pulling light over pyke's many hills. the sound of seagulls crying out above signaled daybreak, and out past the cliffs, lord greyjoy's ships sat idle. even from the distant harbor it was clear that this was no feeble coalition.

while adria had seen it many times before, this was one of the first occasions which she understood their ships and their house would be making a statement. it was rare for the ironborn to parade themselves like other houses. they were if anything, coarse and unwilling to flaunt. this year, however, lord greyjoy had decided that this needed to change. perhaps his eagerness to marry adria off had worn away his propensity for adherence to tradition. that, and her stubborn ways. adria had rejected every single suitor from the iron islands, and she had assured her father that this would not change. it wasn't for a desire for greenlander men, but rather a need to distance herself from maidenhood and the roles which had been thrust upon her. perhaps she would find that she were no different than other ladies of her age. the idea of friendship and foreign lands was a far more enticing way to view the iminent voyage.

. . .

her horse shifted under her weight, and she stroked it's mane while her mind was astray. her mother would be arriving behind them in no time, as she'd likely opted for a carriage. pregnancy and the high seas did not mix and adria could guess that her mother would stay at pyke-- although the lady was known for pushing her limits. personally, adria felt it wasn't necessary for her to come along should she not want to, as lord greyjoy was enough company.

for weeks she had dreaded this day. adria knew she was safe, and it did not help in the slightest. every step they neared towards the docks felt like an anvil thunking into her chest. adria swallowed dryly and her eyes flickered towards the working men and the waves that slugged into their stone levees. the memory of that day pushed it's way into her consciousness as it did every time she had to board a boat, threatening to drown her. she could almost feel the way her body had been swept up by the current, and the way she'd been helpless. adria's throat tightened at her body's recollection of saltwater surging her lungs. her hands began to shake, and a sob readied itself in her chest--

"my lady?" a soft voice. one of her oldest friends. a girl her own age who had been raised at pyke, and the daughter of one of her father's advisors. she always saw her off before voyages, much like her mother did, if she could arrive fast enough.

adria gasped and her eyes snapped to attention. she could not hide her panic from someone so close, but attempted to stuff it away as soon as she had company. the other girl's countenance was warm but adria could not indulge herself enough to be comforted.

"i'm alright." she said evasively, shaking her head as she returned her gaze to the shore. as they arrived at the boats she would throw her companion a dismissive but polite glance to quell any lingering concern before dismounting her horse and giving it a final stroke.

"thank you for accompanying me." though her tense brow betrayed her, she leaned in for an embrace and inhaled deeply. "i am glad you're here. you've always been my dearest friend."

the other woman scoffed. "do not be so dramatic, i have no doubt you'll return safe and well." adria observed as her friend looked away and back again. this time with a coy sort of grin. "you'll have tell me all about the handsome lords there."

a second later, the rhythmic beat of hooves signaled her mother's arrival. adria patiently awaited her approach and straightened instinctively.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[SomeRandomCanuck]

Ser Arvyn "Sweet Knight"

Slowly getting out of the plain, wooden cot the young Queensguard looked towards the small window within his room of the White Sword Tower, he could barely see the creeping sun slowly rising over the horizon of Blackwater Bay. He took a moment to take in the view, once in his life he would have never known the beautiful sights that Kings Landing could offer before he joined the Queensguard. Soaking in the creeping morning sun’s rays he turned around and began preparing for the day.

While the royals and many of the servants are still sleeping in their quarters, Arvyn always wanted to make the most of each day, so approaching the small basin of water sitting upon a little wooden desk Arvyn started his morning ritual. The cold water splashing against his face sapped out all the lingering fatigue from his eyes, taking a small knife placed next to the basin he slowly and calmly used the reflection in the water to shave his face as he did so many times already. Then grabbing a small woolen cloth he made sure to clean up any remaining water and turned towards the armor stand standing in the corner of the room.

Placed upon it stood the brilliant white armor associated with his order, its metal shining with dawn’s sun. He winced a bit at the brightness of the armor, the glare causing slight blindness from directly looking at it. Taking a second to gather his bearings Arvyn took a standard plain brown tunic, trousers as black as the midnight sky, and putting them on he grabbed the armor from the stand and piecemeal started to put them on.

He learnt how to quickly put on the armor from the Lord Commander, after all “A Queensguard must always be prepared and ready for an attack on her majesty at a moment's notice!”

Thinking about the graying Lord Commander, Arvyn chuckled a bit to himself, the veteran is an inspiration, noble, loyal, true, and extremely skilled. Honestly, if Arvyn didn’t know better he would think that the Lord Commander was the warrior incarnate, he was grateful to study and learn under such a valiant man.

Once he finished donning the white armor, Arvyn opened the door of his small quarters. Walking down the winding steps of the tower, Arvyn quietly exited the tower, making sure to not alert and wake up his comrades still asleep. There he would walk down the steps of the wall towards the yard of the Red Keep.

He continued his route, the yard mostly empty as a light breeze blew past him. Continuing Arvyn would find himself to the serpentine steps of the castle sept, walking up he would find a small, tubby man, the septon. He seemingly was opening the small door built into the grand gates of the sept, the man upon hearing Arvyns approached turned around in a hurry.

“Oh! Ser Arvyns, thank the Seven it’s you. Come yet again my son to pray?”

“Aye Father, is that alright?”

“Of course, of course, I am always happy to accommodate such a devout young man. Come in, I’ll prepare some tea.”

“Thank you Father, I’ll then first say my prayers.”

The tubby septon nodded before he headed towards the sacristy of the sept, Arvyn walked through the small black stone door, instantly the smell of incense and burning candles hit his nose. The colored glass panes shine a radiant rainbow of colors upon the inside of the sept as daylight hits the glass. He, thankfully was the only one other than the septon currently in the sept, walking down the rows of benches he approached the marble statues representing each of the seven. He kneeled down on one knee, hands clapped together, resting his forehead on the knuckles he began to recite his prayers.

“The Seven Gods who are one, please hear the prayers of your lowly servant and bestow upon me your several blessings. To the Father, I pray that you guide me so that I may enact your justice to those who may cause harm to your people. To the Warrior I pray that you bless me with the strength and courage to fulfill my duties and protect those I must. To the Smith I pray for the endurance to persevere in my tasks, to carry my burden and others. To the Crone I ask for the wisdom and foresight to do what is right, that your lantern may guide me from my blindness to the world. To the mother I pray for the help to continue my oath as a knight, to protect the women and children.”

He took a small breath as he looked upon the image of the Maiden, his cheeks slightly flushed as he thought of what he wanted to say. He looked up, staring right into the beautifully carved marble and calmly said “Finally, to the Maiden, may you bless me so that I may find my own Naerys or Jenny of Oldstones ...”

He quickly shook his head at the thought and stood up as the septon brought a cup of tea. The quietness of the sept and the seven always have helped calm Arvyn within the unusual atmosphere of the Red Keep, preparing him for his day's work, he took the small cup before drinking it in silence with the septon. The sept slowly became brighter and brighter as the morning sun filled the glass panels in all its beauty.

“Septon.”

“Aye my child?”

“Why is this sept so empty usually?”

"This sept is used by the residents and servants of the Red Keep, not always will you find the most devout here."

"I see... well I'd better head off, I have a family of dragons to guard and as much as I admire their beauty. I'd rather not get burnt."
Arvyn said with a sly smile as the septon chucked, his rolls jiggling as he did so.

“Fair enough, it’s always nice to see you here in the mornings Arvyn. May the Seven bless you.”

The blond knight stood up from the small bench they were sitting on, placing the cup where he once stood and with a slight nod walked out of the keep.

 

[Jabroni]

Markas Lannister and Cassia Lannister
Collab with savageshores

A methodical clacking approached the carriage with a labored pace. Click...Clack..Click. Then a door opened, and Markas appeared dressed to the nines. His all-black accoutrements and fox skin cap were accented by the gold lion on his walking stick. Taking the doorman's hand, he struggled his way into the seat adjoining Lady Cassia. "Garrat, see that my wife and son have brought everything. I shan't enjoy turning around over a missed necklace or trinket." Markas let out a sigh of relief and refocused his attention on Cassia. He gave her a brief scan from head to toe, nodding, "Well it appears that old fool Jarrak managed to do something for a change."

She was pretty to be sure. Not beautiful. No, no...not quite. Pretty in a plain sort of sense, which might be enough to sway some of these turnip lordings straight off the farm. House Wythers, maybe. Smallwood perhaps. But these were the low-hanging fruit not oft enjoyed by upperclassmen. She is a Lannister, not some tavern wench. My blood runs through her veins.

Of course it would have helped if she carried more confidence. Cassia was a timid sort of girl without much conviction either way. You could pelt her with cabbages and she wouldn't move a hair. Pathetic, really.

"Tell me...what will you do if things don't go according to plan? Hm...? Join the Silent Sisters, will you?"

The comment might have made her chuckle if she wasn't so terribly unnerved by him.

"I suppose that would be up to the Maestar." She chooses her words carefully and swallows hard when she meets his eyes. "Or you."

There was a longing in the pit of her heart when she looked at her Uncle for too long. He reminded Cassia so much of her father, despite how cruel he was; she figured it was one of the hallmarks of being a Lannister. Cruelty. Unnerving presence. Quick wit. She had long given up on wondering why she did not fit the mould.

She ponders his query. What would she do if the Maestar had no more use for her? Run? The thought makes her want to laugh again. Where could she possibly go? Over the cliff of Casterly Rock, she decides. At least it would be quick.

Markas studied her facial expression as she spoke. He found himself frowning even though they were the right words. The perfect words. "Now there's a thought," he said before rapping the hood of the carriage with his cane. And with that, they were off to King's Landing.


*Time skipping to King's Landing for next post*

 

[c h a n a]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood hungry

location king's landing

outfit (too lazy to find inspo refs at the moment lol)

music vibes take a listen

interactions baelin longthorpe

lord devon tully

/* ------ right side ------ */

the journey had been surprisingly easier than expected. the weather had been calm and sunny, and the wind carried the faintest of chills. lord tully's entourage had been unencumbered as they arrived, sporting bannermen and horses, with the lord at it's helm. he let his weight shift this way and that way while his horse maneuvered the cobbled streets of king's landing. it seemed that the constant influx of nobles had attracted the attention of the common folk who had begun to gather. as lord tully rounded a corner he spied the towers of the great castle and paused on his steed, allowing his knights to cross ahead. they were in the market district most likely, as the tempting smells of bread, steamed meats, and fresh pastries permeated the air.

"first impression 's not bad, aye?" it was one of his advisors, baelin longthorpe, an older man of 57 whom devon had known his entire life. they often neglected formalities with one another, and he was one of the few lord tully really trusted.

"i can't complain." devon chortled, casting him a pleased smile. his stomach growled and he shifted on his horse as the towers of the red keep loomed. their provisions on the trip were now bare, and he wouldn't have been opposed to a quick bite. he gestured with his left arm for the entourage to halt and he turned on his horse. "baelin, see that the men disperse for a meal. we'll stop here and regroup in an hour's time."

"as you wish." the older man nodded and saw to it that the others were addressed. devon dismounted, leading himself towards the nearest bakery stand in no hurry to get to the festivities.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[bayleen]

Morgana Greyjoy

Mood:

Anxious

Location:

Dock/Harbor

Outfit:

no

Tags:

c h a n a (Adria)

Morgana looked back at her husband, who stood there staring at his castle. It looked as if he was close to shedding a tear or two, "My love?" Morgana tried to speed up the process of getting into the carriage, "My love, I would like to get to the docks before sound down, if you will." Her husband looked at her with sorrowful eyes, "We're going to come back, " she said as she ushered him to the carriage.

He opened the carriage door for his wife and sighed, "You would think that, wouldn't you? Morgana, we are headed to a place where all the houses are joined. There is bound to be chaos." Taking her husband's hand, she hauled her 2nd-trimester arse inside, slouching once she finally reached the chair. One thing she loved about marriage was not worrying about how you present yourself.

Morgana collected herself, trying to catch her breath. Even moving was a hassle. The carriage door rattled, and the Lord came in and placed himself in front of her. She took this moment to interrogate him, "Is that why you were so reluctant not to let me go." He opened his mouth to babble, but Morgana didn't give him a second glance when she said, "But it's ok for Adria to go."

There was a moment of silence when he finally spoke up,
"Adria's fine she'll be with me." this sentence caused Morgana to chuckle.

"And where are you now?" Again, the carriage was filled with silence. Morgana knew it wasn't his fault that he needed to be with his wife, and to be frank, if Morgana didn't go, he would be with Adria, but this is just an example that anything could happen.

Moments after, the carriage came to a halt, and out stepped the Lord strands of his white hair gleamed in the sun. He placed his hand out for his Lady Morgana helping her out of the carriage. The breeze immediately hit Morgana. Instead of enjoying the salty air, she scanned the docks for Adria, whom she quickly spotted, taking a moment to take in her daughter's beauty, "I made that."

The Lord chuckled, "Yes, she has your beautiful eyes and my height." Morgana quickly snapped her head back, which caused the Lord to step back, "I'll go see if we're ready to sail." Morgana eyed him as he walked away. She would have undoubtedly bitten his hand off if he weren't her husband.

Walking over to Adria, she smiled, taking her daughter's hands in hers, "How's my heart and soul feeling?" Morgana had high hopes that this trip would be fast and effortless on the high seas. Being on a ship is nerve recking for Adria as it is. Imagine if it was during a storm. The Lord returned shortly after, "It's time. Are you ready?" He spoke to Adria in particular.

♡design by stardust galaxy, coded by uxie♡

 

[slim]

Syndra Martell

MOOD: wary, tired
LOCATION: The Red Keep
MENTIONS: SomeRandomCanuck

King's Landing was a flurry of activity and the uproar seemed to have made the foul odor of the city seven times worse. Syndra had smelt the stink a mile away, and after being waved in by the guard at the King's Gate, she had to pull out a heavily perfumed scarf and wind it round her lower face. She had only been to King's Landing once when she had returned from Quarth, and it seemed some things never changed about the cesspool of a city.

Syndra had accompanied her siblings on the ship from the Sea of Dorne but had gotten off at Storm's End with nothing but her saddlebags and her two mares. She knew they would be safe on the ship, but the girl refused to be on a body of water for too long. She had always been worried she would lose control in her sleep and capsize the boat like when she was younger no matter how much she had worked on to control herself. And so, she had ridden for a full day and a half on the Kingsroad to King's Landing, stopping only to relieve her bladder and feed and water her steeds. She figured she had arrived a mere hours ahead the ship, but that was enough time to snoop about. Besides the scarf around her face, her simple red wool cloak had been pulled up and she wore her studded leather armor that was rather plain save for the Martell sigil on the chest that was embellished with gold. Both her weapons were attached to each hip, and she had gone to reach for both of them when certain individuals had looked at her for too long, but they had hastily backed away and into the crowd.
The use of the King's Gate had saved her from a visit through Flea Bottom, for as much as she felt for the poor there was no need to get a first hand encounter with their living situations. Surely there merciful queen could give them a helping hand? The smell from the Fish Market and Blackwater Rush's stagnant scent mingled and Syndra urged the horses quickly despite the crowded streets, desperate to have a bath and a hot meal in her stomach. Eventually the road led up Aegon's High Hill, and the Martell princess slid off of her horse and took off her cloak. Two guards approached her as well as a stable boy, but the boy held back behind the guards.

"Halt! State your name and business." The guard on the right said, and Syndra mentioned to the sigil on her chest. "Syndra Martell of House Martell." She said it without any pomp or splendor, and the guard took notice of the lack of her procession and banner. "Has your house met misfortune on the Kingsroad my lady?" The man said after peering intently at the sigil, then her red horses, and then the swords on each hip. His tone had almost seemed concerned. "My siblings and other members of my house are still on the ship. I decided to ride ahead. If you don't mind I need my horses tended to and my things taken to my quarters." The man opened his mouth as if he had something to say, but the girl's patience had worn thin and she sent him a withering glare, and he abruptly shut his mouth and motioned to the stable boy. Syndra stuffed her cloak in one of her saddlebags and continued on past the guards who only gave her attire an inquisitive glance.

Servants bustled about, none even paying attention to the tall girl who had entered their midst. She had confidently told the guard to have a servant bring her things to her quarters, but she had no idea what her quarters were or where. Her last trip to Kings Landing had been very short and she hadn't given a single though to the castle and its innerworkings. Perhaps she had been a fool to ride on without at least her sister who would've been able to direct them about and gather information with a few flowery words and a touch on the arm. Instead, Syndra was entirely unapproachable and had only made a serving girl let a screech of terror when the princess had moved towards her a bit too quickly and without any warmth in her face. As the girl ran off clutching a laundry basket, the other servants finally took notice of her and made great lengths to stay out of her eyesight. Syndra sagged wearily against the stone in defeat, the day of riding finally getting to her. She was considering going off to an inn to wait out her family but she noticed a man strolling through the halls bearing the white cloak and armor of the Queensguard. Syndra felt her heartbeat speed up until she realized it was just the man and the queen was nowhere to be seen. At least he wouldn't run from her and have some answers to her questions. She slowly pushed herself off from the wall and sped walked over to intercept him.

"Knight! Ser...Knight!" Syndra called, her mind blanking at proper terms to refer the Queens personal guard. "I apologize for the informality but I am hopelessly confused and it seems I have arrived a bit too early for the festivities. My name is Syndra Martell, princess of House Martell. Is there anyway you could help me find out where I am to be staying or at least rope one of those servants into aiding me? They seem to be scared witless by me for no apparent reason."

code by low fidelity.

Spoiler: get a computer

King's Landing was a flurry of activity and the uproar seemed to have made the foul odor of the city seven times worse. Syndra had smelt the stink a mile away, and after being waved in by the guard at the King's Gate, she had to pull out a heavily perfumed scarf and wind it round her lower face. She had only been to King's Landing once when she had returned from Quarth, and it seemed some things never changed about the cesspool of a city.

Syndra had accompanied her siblings on the ship from the Sea of Dorne but had gotten off at Storm's End with nothing but her saddlebags and her two mares. She knew they would be safe on the ship, but the girl refused to be on a body of water for too long. She had always been worried she would lose control in her sleep and capsize the boat like when she was younger no matter how much she had worked on to control herself. And so, she had ridden for a full day and a half on the Kingsroad to King's Landing, stopping only to relieve her bladder and feed and water her steeds. She figured she had arrived a mere hours ahead the ship, but that was enough time to snoop about. Besides the scarf around her face, her simple red wool cloak had been pulled up and she wore her studded leather armor that was rather plain save for the Martell sigil on the chest that was embellished with gold. Both her weapons were attached to each hip, and she had gone to reach for both of them when certain individuals had looked at her for too long, but they had hastily backed away and into the crowd.
The use of the King's Gate had saved her from a visit through Flea Bottom, for as much as she felt for the poor there was no need to get a first hand encounter with their living situations. Surely there merciful queen could give them a helping hand? The smell from the Fish Market and Blackwater Rush's stagnant scent mingled and Syndra urged the horses quickly despite the crowded streets, desperate to have a bath and a hot meal in her stomach. Eventually the road led up Aegon's High Hill, and the Martell princess slid off of her horse and took off her cloak. Two guards approached her as well as a stable boy, but the boy held back behind the guards.

"Halt! State your name and business." The guard on the right said, and Syndra mentioned to the sigil on her chest. "Syndra Martell of House Martell." She said it without any pomp or splendor, and the guard took notice of the lack of her procession and banner. "Has your house met misfortune on the Kingsroad my lady?" The man said after peering intently at the sigil, then her red horses, and then the swords on each hip. His tone had almost seemed concerned. "My siblings and other members of my house are still on the ship. I decided to ride ahead. If you don't mind I need my horses tended to and my things taken to my quarters." The man opened his mouth as if he had something to say, but the girl's patience had worn thin and she sent him a withering glare, and he abruptly shut his mouth and motioned to the stable boy. Syndra stuffed her cloak in one of her saddlebags and continued on past the guards who only gave her attire an inquisitive glance.

Servants bustled about, none even paying attention to the tall girl who had entered their midst. She had confidently told the guard to have a servant bring her things to her quarters, but she had no idea what her quarters were or where. Her last trip to Kings Landing had been very short and she hadn't given a single though to the castle and its innerworkings. Perhaps she had been a fool to ride on without at least her sister who would've been able to direct them about and gather information with a few flowery words and a touch on the arm. Instead, Syndra was entirely unapproachable and had only made a serving girl let a screech of terror when the princess had moved towards her a bit too quickly and without any warmth in her face. As the girl ran off clutching a laundry basket, the other servants finally took notice of her and made great lengths to stay out of her eyesight. Syndra sagged wearily against the stone in defeat, the day of riding finally getting to her. She was considering going off to an inn to wait out her family but she noticed a man strolling through the halls bearing the white cloak and armor of the Queensguard. Syndra felt her heartbeat speed up until she realized it was just the man and the queen was nowhere to be seen. At least he wouldn't run from her and have some answers to her questions. She slowly pushed herself off from the wall and sped walked over to intercept him.

"Knight! Ser...Knight!" Syndra called, her mind blanking at proper terms to refer the Queens personal guard. "I apologize for the informality but I am hopelessly confused and it seems I have arrived a bit too early for the festivities. My name is Syndra Martell, princess of House Martell. Is there anyway you could help me find out where I am to be staying or at least rope one of those servants into aiding me? They seem to be scared witless by me for no apparent reason."

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

• Queen Rhaella Targaryan

• 
  
  
  
  Rhaella Targaryan
  
  
  
  The light of a new day's sun crept through the open windows of the Red Keep, it’s rays warm as it stretched into the darkness replacing the need for candle light. The salty breeze coming in from the sea left the sheer curtains that adorned the windows dancing like ghosts as they had all through the night. Their dance had been observed by a young woman who had not slept for a single moment as the moon drifted through the sky and now her pale violet eyes blinked a welcome to the new day. With a soft sigh Rhaella carefully placed her quill within the inkwell and looked down at the papers that lay upon her desk. She had spent the entire night pouring over the numbers on those pages, attempting to find the best ways to store and distribute food and services once winter came. Her heart and mind would not allow her to rest so long as she still had such important work to do. Since the day she became ruler of this realm she has worked hard to prepare for the years of hardship in the long winter ahead. Rhaella might be young but she was no fool when it came to understanding the dangers of winter and she wanted to be as prepared as possible so that as few of her people would have to struggle as possible. Of course, everyone would feel the distress of the cold and harsh winter years but if her plans worked then at least she would be able to provide those in need with food and access to warmth and aid.
  
  The night had not been completely uneventful for the young Queen and with the new dawn came a sigh of relief. Nights were always the hardest but occasionally days could come with their demons as well. As she had worked in the moonlight and with the candles flickering around her Rhaella has done her best to ignore the shadows that danced across the walls. The dark images replayed scenes of horror she had witnessed her father commit and occasionally the stones would bleed in time with the shades that haunted her. It wasn’t real though, she told herself that over and over again, this was her mind working against her and for now she was able to keep it at bay.
  
  Taking several moments the platinum-haired ruler read over the documents on her desk, monitoring carefully for any errors and knowing she would have a trusted advisor look over them as well. It was something she had done for years now, not wanting to risk making an error due to her mind and not wanting herself to send this kingdom into ruin like her father did. She had worked hard every day for years to bring the realm back from the brink her father had driven it to. Rhaella knew that despite her efforts she did not carry favor with many nobles and she hoped the tournament would allow her the chance to remedy that. They were left scorned after her refusal to marry and her feelings on the matter had not changed, however, this tournament was a prime opportunity to see if her sisters would find a match of their choosing. She would not force them just as she did not wish to be forced, but she would allow them the opportunity to seek out a true love match if they desired. So far, from what Rhaella had observed, the madness her bloodline was known for had only begun to rear its ugly head within her. Catlyn and Lily still seemed untouched by their family's curse and for that Rhaella was grateful. It meant that if they chose they could marry and have a family, they could live lives that they chose. Rhaella would not allow herself such an option. She was already touched by the curse though she hid it well; because of this she would not allow her blood to pass on to another. She would not be the reason this madness survived another generation, and she would not allow it to take the throne when she was gone. It was a motivation she had shared with no other because it would mean admitting that she was in fact going mad. Rhaella would not lie to herself about the state of her mind, but others at this point did not need to know.
  
  Finally, after several long minutes, Rhaella stood from her desk and walked over to the window to look out at the sea. This view was one she had appreciated since she was a small child and she often wondered what it would be like to fly like one of the seagulls on the ocean winds, to soar far beyond the horizon and away from the world. When her father’s crown became hers she had decided to make this room her office rather than the former royal study. If she had been forced to spend the rest of her days working from the room he had torn the kingdom apart within she knew that her madness would have come on stronger and sooner, she could feel it in her gut. His study and chambers never became hers because she did not want to live in his shadow, lay where he lay, exist as an echo of him. Instead, she chose smaller chambers, a study where she trusted she would work best, she made this castle a place where she felt she could truly be her best as a ruler.
  
  Soon a knock at her door pulled Rhaella from her thoughts and the young queen spoke for the first time in hours. “Come in.” She called and secured her robe around her as she turned to greet the young servant girl who entered.
  
  “Your majesty.” The servant greeted her with a bow.
  
  “Good morning, Stella.” Rhaella returned the greeting with a nod and a small smile. “How are your parents fairing? Did the tea help with their coughs?” She inquired as she remembered the young girl sharing her parent’s sickness with her the other day.
  
  Looking up at the queen Stella smiled and nodded her head. “Yes, your majesty. Thank you again for aiding them.”
  
  Rhaella smiled at the news that the young blonde’s family was getting better. “I’m pleased to hear that.” She replied and leaned against a pillar. “Please do not feel the need to thank me.” She added with a warm smile. “Have my guests begun arriving?” The queen asked as she recognized that the young girl must have come to her study for a reason.
  
  “They have your majesty.” Stella replied with a nod.
  
  “Well, then it seems the time has come for me to look the part of the queen.” Rhaella sighed and walked barefoot across her study towards the door Stella had entered from. “Will you please fetch my lady's maids to help me get ready? I should like to greet my guests soon.” She requested to which the servant nodded and departed to find the requested staff. With that, Rhaella made her way down the corridors towards her quarters so that she would be able to swiftly ready herself for the day and her guests.
  
  
  
  
  TEMPLATE © BOKEH
  

 

[savageshores]

Location

Kings Landing

Outfit

Here

Mentions

Devon Tully c h a n a

unbowed, unbent, unbroken

rayne martell

Waves gently rocked the Dorne ship on its way to dock at Kings Landing. Sun was beaming down on Rayne, who stood on deck, arms thrown over the railing dramatically. The journey had been much too long for Rayne's liking and she was itching to explore the city. She should have departed with her sister and road the rest of the way. Smart, she huffs at the water, amused at her own naivety.

"Princess Rayne," one of the deckhands shuffles up to her. "We will be docking shortly. Do you need anything for your travels within the city?"

She straightens up and raises a hand. "Nothing at all required for me. See to it that my darling siblings are taken care of."

An expression of mortification crosses his face, no doubt wondering what trouble would await him for letting a princess of Dorne to traipse into a rivalling city unaccompanied. But that was not her problem. She flashes him a grin and breezes past him, towards the side of the deck that the bridge would be lowered. She eagerly watches as the deckhands prepare the ship. The muscles in the mens arms were rippling with the weight and care it was taking them. Perhaps, when she returned home, she could seek out some seafarers and learn the trade for herself. Sailing was no doubt arduous and she could not have found herself more bored, but it was... intriguing to have no limits to where you could go.

Once the bridge is lowered, Rayne bolts. "Goodbye Olyvar, goodbye Eleanor!" She shouts over her shoulder, racing down the bridge and onto the cobblestone.

---

First impressions were... mixed. The beauty was not lost on her, as Rayne adored cities and the like, however the smell and the people left much to be desired. Yet, she presses on, converging into the hustle and bustle in the streets. She took in as much as she could, the different markets, the squares, the lanes, everything she could possibly set her eyes on.

Part of her thought she ought to seek out her sister at the Red Keep, she was in enemy territory and should be there for support. The cold blade beneath her dress presses into her thigh. Or for trouble. But her mind is quickly swayed as she notices various bakeries of the sort, and a specific one with quite an entourage surrounding it. Would it be too much trouble to explore?

Knowing Syndra was more than capable of handling herself in a pit of snakes, Rayne sweeps into a nearby bakery.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[bayleen]

Lily Targaryen

Mood:

Sad

Location:

Fathers room + Sisters room

Outfit:

no

Tags:

Sanctuaryforall1 (Rhaelle)

Taking out the wilted flowers from the vase, Lily placed the wildflowers she had carefully plucked out this morning and attentively placed the golden vase on her father's bedside, "Good morning, father." She slowly sank to the floor, setting her head on the side of the bed, "Today's the tournament," she let out a deep sigh trying not to choke on her words. Just thinking about the tournament brought Lily to tears, "Everything is going to change after this Cat's going to leave,"

Lily wasn't stupid; she knew this tournament was a means to get her sisters married Rhaelle would never; however, Lily was sure her Catyln would at least consider it, "and once she leaves, that's one less person closer, Rhae." feeling her eyes go blurry, her head sunk into her lap, "Did the gods forsaken our house?" Lifting her head, she felt her hair stick to her face. Wiping her tears, she stood up a little too fast; struck with a dizzy spell. She quickly caught herself using the bed as her crutch, her eyes landing on the wildflowers. Sniffling, she reached out and grabbed a few.

Setting them down, she clasped her hands, "May you only know peace, father." she paused, contemplating what to say next, "I beg the gods of Valyria to protect my sisters and I. We have no one but you." The gods of Valyria have always been Lily's source of strength. When she felt helpless and unable to do anything, she knew that spending her time praying was time well spent. Picking up the wildflowers, she exited her father's Bedroom. Making sure she cleaned it well, she gave it one last look before she closed the doors. Despite the many years since her father's death, servants are still unsettled by the room. Not that Lily blamed them. Her father wasn't quite the saint. But Lily didn't like the idea of his belongings sitting there and collecting dust. Cleaning his Bedroom almost made her feel like she had a father. Would she also have to clean Rhaelle's room? She stopped in her tracks, cursing herself as to why she let her mind go that far.

"Princess Lily?" A young female's voice pulled Lily out of her spiral, looking up at the blurry figure in front of her. She focused her eyes, "Are you alright?" Finally stabilizing her vision, she could see the woman in front of her.

"Stella? I'm ok." realizing Stella was coming from her sister's office, "is my sister in her office?" she questioned, hoping she could catch a glimpse of her sister. Considering this whole week, Rhaelle has been so occupied that maybe this tournament could give her some fresh air and time to breathe.

"No, princess, the queen's getting ready for the guests." Lily quickly thanked Stella as she tried not to dash to her sister's side. Lily stared at the doors between her and her sister, fixing her green ribbons and trying her best to get some dirt off her pink dress, realizing that she should have waited to change into it. She shrugged off the rest of the brown stain and knocked before entering, "Rhae?" hoping her sister was not indecent because that would have been awkward. Lily spotted her sister, her platinum hair making her the room's centerpiece. Slightly skipping her way over, she made a quick motion to hug her sister but quickly stopped herself. Instead, she gave her sister a slight bow, "Your Majesty."

Remembering the wildflowers clasped in her hand, she took a few out saving them for Caitlyn, "I picked these up this morning. I thought you might like some in your room." as she said this, she scanned the room for a vase. Lily would occasionally get her sister's wildflowers whenever she got the chance. Because who doesn't love flowers? When winter hit, however, she had to come up with random things to give.

♡design by stardust galaxy, coded by uxie♡

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

• Kyra Frey

• 
  
  
  
  Kyra Frey
  
  
  
  Nestled within the walls of The Twins a small courtyard brought a splash of color to the rather bleak stone structure. This hidden grove was a special place to a certain lady of the house who had taken to bringing life and beauty to every plant she touched there. If one were to pass by at this moment, they would find young Kyra Frey knelt down beside one of her beloved shrubs, her dress guarded by an apron as she trimmed dead blooms from the branches. It was a lovely sight to behold, and one might easily assume that Kyra only took up the hobby to bring something as lovely as herself into the world. In truth however there was a far darker story behind the young lady’s garden. As knights have armories this place was where the young Lady Frey cultivated some of her greatest weapons. The shrub Kyra was currently pruning was a prime example of such a weapon with just about every part of it filled with deadly toxins, especially it’s roots.
  
  As the raven-haired beauty snipped the last few dead leaves and blooms from the flowering shrub she rose to her feet and smiled fondly at the plant nestled between her roses. “Aren’t they lovely?” She sighed as one of her servants helped her to untie the apron from her waist and revealed the stunning black and gold gown beneath. The young girl who had been accompanying her in the courtyard uttered some agreement about the flowers being beautiful and Kyra gave her a smile that looked beautiful and effortless. She always made sure to bring one of the lesser educated servants with her to the garden and never too often for fear that they might catch on to what was truly being grown among the beautiful flowers. If any ever got too curious she would play dumb as she usually did, claim that she only knew how to care for the flowers not what they were, and say the plants name wrong or the like in order to make it clear that she was just a talented beauty with no real brains.
  
  In the midst of their interaction a small, well dressed servant approached the pair. His well groomed light-brown hair, clean clothes, and upright posture showcased the drastic change the Lord of the Twins implemented, having completely replaced the personnel within the castle during his tenure. She couldn’t remember his name, however she did know that he was one of Lord Frey’s close attendants, usually always seen by his side. The man stopped in front of the ladies, bowed slightly before calmly stating “Pardon me Lady Kyra for intruding, however, Lord Frey requests your presence in his study.” his tone implying that Lord Frey would not take refusal for an answer. His narrow, brown eyes looked over to the servants behind her, slightly narrowing as to imply that they were to leave them immediately.
  
  Upon hearing the request for her presence in the study of her half-brother Kyra nodded her head towards the servant. “Of course.” She replied in a honeyed voice and wiped her hands on the apron the servant was holding before looking over to the other servant. “Would you escort me please?” She requested with a gentle and slightly embarrassed sounding tone. “I fear I have gotten turned around with all the changes that have occurred.” She informed the servant with a slight blush. In reality she knew very well where to go but the more helpless and brainless she seemed the less likely people were to recognize she was in fact a very clever young woman.
  
  The servant of course agreed to escort her to the office and as they departed the courtyard Kyra plucked a lovely rose from one of her bushes. It took several minutes of walking at a steady pace through the stone corridors of The Twins but finally the pair reached the large door that led to the study of the new Lord Frey. “Thank you for showing me the way.” The dark haired beauty said with a nod to the servant. “I would have gotten dreadfully lost on my own.” She lied as easily as breathing. With that the servant opened the door for her and Kyra stepped into the study, the rose still settled within her hand. “My Lord.” She greeted her half-brother with a pristine bow. “I have brought you a token from my garden.” The young lady informed and offered Walton the beautifully cultivated flower as a gesture of respect.
  
  The young lord of the Twins was sitting upon a large oaken table, seemingly mulling over two separate parchments within his hands amongst the countless ones sprawled across the table. His light, hazel eyes had bags underneath, his usually perfectly combed brown hair was a bit disheveled. Seemingly as if he hadn’t slept for days he ignored Kyra for a few minutes, acting as if she wasn’t in the room. He calmly looked back and forth between the two parchments before writing something down, and gesturing to the Maester standing by his right side. His soft, methodical, and cold voice sounded out, “Maester, see to it that I get the census of the fiefdom and smallfolk’s crop yield from this year soon. If it’s as we thought then we must begin storing crops.” The graying, chubby maester of the Twins, a Reachman by the name of Mace nodded at the Lord’s instructions replying in his jovial tone “At once Walton, but make sure you take a rest after this. This habit of your is n-”
  
  The quiet lord waved him off before the maester could finish his sentence. Understanding that he had long overstayed his welcome, Mace turned towards the flower of the Riverlands and with a small bow said “Lady Kyra” before exiting the door. A moment lasted between Kyra and Walton, the lord looking up to stare into her eyes with his empty, tired eyes. He silently gestured to the chair in front of him, expecting her to take a seat without any further delays. Once Kyra sat upon the wooden chair with its simple, blue velvet cushioning Lord Frey rummaged around the stacks of paper, muttering something she couldn’t quite hear, he then tossed a small open envelope in front of her, upon it was the broken seal of the dragon.
  
  Kyra’s golden brown eyes settled upon the broken seal and instantly her interest was peaked though she didn’t allow it to show. “A letter from the queen my lord?” She inquired softly and reached out hesitantly, as if wanting to make sure she was permitted to look upon the content of the letter. She wasn’t a fan of acting meek but when in the presence of the lord of the house she also needed to tread carefully so a not to put a foot out of place and end up no longer useful. Upon receiving a nod of permission to look upon the letter Kyra unfolded the parchment and opened it carefully so as not to damage it. For a few heartbeats the two sat in silence, the only noise being the crack of the fire burning to keep the room warm. Finally Kyra looked up at her half-brother and raised her eyebrows in question though her eyes shone with countless thoughts racing through her mind. “An event such as this could be quite beneficial for House Frey.” She pointed out with a sly smile. “It would be a perfect occasion to show how you have restored this house to its true glory.” Her words were smooth as silk as she considered all this invitation had to offer. There would be lords and ladies from all houses in attendance as well as the royal family. If she and Walt were to work this right perhaps House Frey would return from such an event with far more than they left with.
  
  “Indeed…” Walton seemingly chuckled a bit at the thought, before using his right hand to rub his eyes seemingly both from his visible exhaustion and something else Kyra couldn’t quite figure out. He stood up and walked towards the small shelf, grabbing a leather wineskin, and two glasses. Walking back, the lord placed the wine skin and two glasses in front of her before speaking once more. “There are… concerns with which Frey to leave here to manage the Twins. But that should concern you little, what I care about is if you understand what your role will be at this event?” his icy eyes bore into her, seemingly calculating something before slowly grabbing the wineskin and without asking poured some bright red wine within each of the glasses.
  
  As the wine was offered to her Kyra took the glass but did not sip. Instead she watched her brother closely, understanding what his words meant and knowing very well what her task would be. “I have prepared my entire life for a moment such as this dear brother.” She replied cooly, her gaze steady as she spoke. “Securing a marriage alliance with the lord of another house or an heir I mean, of course. It is the greatest service a lady can provide for her house.” She assured him knowing that he would be on the prowl for the most advantageous of matches for House Frey and it would be her job to truly sell herself. “I am sure you have been doing your research on the other lords since taking over, if not before. Are there any you are particularly interested in me putting my efforts towards?” Kyra inquired, the golden brown shades of her eyes flickering in the fire light as she finally took a dainty sip of her wine.
  
  Walton merely picked up the glass, swirling the contents around looking at the wine. “If I wanted to marry you to any house I could have. Many in the Riverlands have already sent me offers…” his mouth turned into a slight scowl, those eyes narrowed as if he was disgusted at the thought of it. “No… you will be married off to one of the Great Houses, Baratheon, Tyrell, Martell, Stark. I care little which one, the importance is the legitimacy and honoring your title as the Flower of the Riverlands.” The Lord calmly took a sip of the wine, taking a moment to enjoy its flavor before continuing, “We shall be leaving shortly, our entourage will be joining Lords Bracken, Mooton, and Piper. So I suggest you go prepared, bring as many servants as you deem necessary, if you need silks or any fineries contact my servant, the expense means little to me.”
  
  Nodding her head in understanding Kyra placed the goblet on the table before her and stood, smoothing her dress as she did so. With an elegant curtsy she bid her half-brother goodbye and assured him that she understood his intent and her duties perfectly. As she departed his office her clever gaze returned to the far more ditzy and empty headed yet beautiful expression she presented to all those she didn’t trust or know. Swiftly she made her way down the halls of The Twins towards her chambers and as she went she recruited several servants with her pretty smile and honeyed voice to aid her in packing her finest gowns.
  
  —-----------------------------
  
  The journey to Kings Landing was long and quite boring but Kyra had done her very best to be as pleasing and delightful as she could to those in her company. The lads of some of the lower houses they had been traveling with were practically throwing themselves at her, tripping over one another to help her at every turn, and Kyra loved it. She played them like a lute and did a truly spectacular job of playing the ditzy yet absolutely propper young lady. Of course The Flower of the Riverlands would never allow herself to end up truly being matched with any of the heirs from the lower noble houses but it was still nice to have them there to cater to her on the long journey. It was truly one of her only forms of entertainment through the days of travel and the raven-haired dear greatly preferred it over sitting in silence looking out the carriage window.
  
  The smell of Kings Landing made it obvious that the population was quite large and Kyra found herself holding her breath a few times and missing the scent of her flowers. When the convoy made it through the gates to the Red Keep the lone lady of house Frey waited for a footman to open her carriage door and stepped out to look around at the large and breathtaking palace. Her eyes danced across the structure as she saw it for the first time. She didn’t let it show that she also noticed a few eyes lingering on her, deciding to play dumb to the attention her rather fetching black and gold accented dress was pulling towards her as her beautifully woven cloak hid the fact that her shoulders were exposed by the dress. Looking over at her servant who was assembling her trunks into a pile she smiled, “Isn’t it absolutely breathtaking?”
  
  “Indeed my lady. It’s hard to imagine anything quite like it.” the servant replied, wide eyes wandering around taking in sights. Hearing a light chuckle Kyra turned around to see Lord Frey riding up to them on a dark gray steed, wearing a standard riding outfit showcasing their houses’ colors. Behind him were the other lords they had been traveling with, “My lords, it's been a pleasure traveling with you, don’t forget what we have discussed.” At his words Lord Mooton, a elderly lord wearing a more martial outfit, with the red fish of Mooton shown upon the breastplate laughed “Don’t worry grandson, we shall see to it that the Vances and Darrys agree to the proposal. Don’t forget to come to see me more often, you're the only grandson I can stand.” “Ha, you have that right! We shall drink again Lord Frey!” the young Lord Piper added on before they all strangely bowed slightly to Walton before heading out their separate ways.
  
  Lord Frey then hopped off his steed, approaching her before quietly motioning her to follow, she could see his face return to the same icey, calculating norm he had while ruling the Twins. “We shall seek an audience with her majesty to thank her and receive guest rights. It is also good if you were to find something in common with her majesty and the royal court. I care not for what you spend the rest of the day doing after.” He stated as she continued to follow him towards the Great Hall.
  
  “As you wish my lord.” She replied and kept up her pretty smile to make sure any around the duo thought they were simply having pleasant conversation. “I trust you to lead the way.” Kyra added as she made it clear that she was here to play her part in their grand plan. Her bother needed to be seen as the brains so no one would suspect her as being just as capable as him, which she was though she didn’t like to show it. She found people were more open to those and around those they felt logically superior to. Leaving her trunks to be unloaded by the servants she gracefully glided after Walt as they made their way up the steps of the Red Keep.
  
  Written by Sanctuaryforall1 and SomeRandomCanuck
  
  Her current dress
  
  
  
  
  TEMPLATE © BOKEH
  
  

 

[Wolfiee]

Lord Stark

location

kings landing

mood

annoyed.

outfit

outfit over here.

mentions

Larra Sanctuaryforall1 Freya SavannahSmiles Maerie& Trystan Qwertycakes Alex Top11

Gawyn Stark.

The air was always colder in the realm he ruled over even the first founders had created the main housing over a natural hot spring. He was the lord of Winterfell after all so the cold was more pleasing to him then this heat box. It had been a long journey to Kings Landing traveling with his family who had all decided to join him this time around. Then his trusted sellsword Larra rode along side him as well she was never far from him these days not with all that was going on. The silver haired lord sighed not wanting to deal with all of this shit he’d much rather be back home. Though here they were riding in on their horses his twin daughters safely riding within a carriage pulled by some of their best horses. His daughter Freya having wanted to travel on horseback herself had been a bit rowdy when he vetoed that making her ride within the carriage with her sister. A smile graced his lips for a moment remembering it, she was certainly a feisty one who he’d have to keep an eye on. He knew whatever man he set her up with was going to be in for a wild ride one day. While whoever gained Maerie would have a lovely quiet wife who would do her best at every.



Coal blew out air from his nostrils as he stamped his large hooves upon the ground as Gawyn reigned the large beast before he could trample anyone. “Easy now.”he said patting the large black stallion’s neck before dismounting. He straightened up as several servants ran over greeting him.”Welcome Lord Stark! We have been assigned to help accommodate you and your family with getting settled.” The person speaking was a scrawny man with a sweet voice which made Gawyn raise an eyebrow. “Very well.”he said gruffly before heading over to the carriage himself opening the door. “Come Maerie, Freya I want you two with me for now.”he said firmly but that wasn’t uncommon for him. The Starks knew that Gawyn’s displeasure for the Targaryens ran deep and that he didn’t trust them at all. He wanted his twins with himself, Larra, or Alex at all times not wanting them to get into trouble. He also didn’t trust Trystan enough to not run off at the first sign of a beautiful women though he knew if something were to truly happen Trystan would drop everything for his family. “Trystan, Alex you two can do as you please for now. Though I expect you both back here before the event starts.”he said looking towards the two men as they dismounted their own horses. He knew Larra would more then likely stick with him for a bit before going to check everything out herself. Gawyn trusted Larra to gather as much intel as she could and knew she could easily handle herself.



Once everything had been settled enough and his families horses taken care of he nodded towards his family members. This was freeing them to do as they pleased other then the twins who still needed to stay close in such a dangerous place.”What would you two like to do? Perhaps you’d like some new dresses, books, maybe a new sword?”he asked his daughters knowing in their large place they would have chances to get new things for themselves. “I’ll have Larra take you two out for now while I deal with the official stuff.” He said calmly letting his gaze flick over to Larra the long raven haired beauty gave him a smirk which titled his lips up into a smile. “I’ll make sure she has enough to purchase you two whatever it is you desire.”he said since it wasn’t like the twins were able to travel often and even when they did it was no where like this.

coded by natasha.

 

[c h a n a]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood tired

location king's laning

outfit inspo inspo inspo

music vibes take a listen

interactions lady greyjoy

adria greyjoy

/* ------ right side ------ */

it appeared her mother would be joining them after all. she wouldn't have made a fuss, should the lady have declined to sail, but adria was comforted in the end knowing her mother would be there to quell her anxieties. maybe even, share in her suffering. adria was surprisingly a bit jealous that her younger sibling would experience their first voyage before they'd had a chance to exit the womb, but it was all in good fun.

meeting her mother's gaze, adria forced a curt smile. it didn't quite reach her eyes, but she supposed it didn't have to. formalities like smiling and being polite were just what was expected, and she wouldn't have dared disrespect her mother by sulking. while the skies gathered clouds, the winds were slowly picking up and flinging heat and mist onto the docks. adria reveled in the warmth of her mother's grasp, and she inhaled slowly. the ligaments around her collarbone and neck bulged under translucent skin.

"as good as can be, mother." adria swallowed sharply and feigned an eager glance towards the ships. they still loomed past the harbor, waiting for the greyjoys' arrival. her father's presence did not go unnoticed, and she released her mother's hands to cross her arms over her chest. "yes, i think so. they call this exposure, right?" adria flashed a half-enthused grin towards her father and turned to start towards the dingies that awaited them. as she did so it occured to her that perhaps they would be late to the festivities, but before she could let herself doubt, she remembered their house motto. we do not sow. the greyjoys did not need to be early. they didn't need to be anything when it came to making a good impression on the greenlanders. they'd be right on time, should their captains stay true.

the lord's vessel was called iron lady, a fitting title considering her father's fondness for morgana. the ship had originally been called iron reaper, but had been changed upon her parents' marriage, and lord greyjoy's ascendance to greater responsibility within his station. after all, the lady herself had brought considerable influence to the islands. it was one thing for her father to wed a foreigner-- a southerner no less, and yet another to tweak their long held traditions as a result of such outside influence.

before adria and her siblings were born, the iron islands had been stronger. harder. men paid the iron price, took salt wives as they should, pillaged, raided, and sailed... it was the old way, of their fathers, and their fathers before. now, it was safe to say that their unbridled savagery had been replaced with a tamer sort of life. while the ironborn still retained the old way, lord geyjoy had placed limits on the extent of violence permitted in raids, how many wives a man could take, and had loosened the restrictions on trade with the mainland. their main export was iron ore, and this had given them greater foothold with the other noble houses. while the greyjoys would never be those to abandon their traditions for money or popularity, it seemed they did know when to acquiesce when necessary, as long as it benefitted them in the end.

. . .

king's landing was as deplorable as adria had come to expect. this was her first time there, but already, she couldn't hide her distaste. the voyage had lasted just under two weeks over sea, and several days by land. the home of the queen was unfortunately not the welcome she had wanted. as the lord and lady's entourage swept through the streets, greyjoy bannermen galloping in tow, adria could not help but turn up her nose. back home, the worst odors tended to come from the sea. high tide would push dead fish to the shore to be picked by gulls, and the grassy season swept in hoardes of kelp. king's landing on the other hand, was worse. the smell of urine, stale water, diseased backstreets, and rotting food permeated the atmosphere like a disease. against her optimism, adria entertained the idea that perhaps house greyjoy shouldn't have come. tired, half-lidded eyes focused lazily on the people in the streets. she peered at each passerby through the intricate window panes as they rushed by in a blur. it wasn't until the carriage slowed that she realized how close they were to the castle. adria took that moment to turn to her mother, who she hoped was not too burdened.

"mother, i don't think we should have come." she exhaled and pressed her back against the seat dramatically, seemingly not realizing that her mother was a southerner herself, and may have been offended.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[Jabroni]

Markas Lannister

That was the cost of doing business. It behooved Markas to study the latest grain yields ad nauseum if he wanted to extract maximum profit. For example, how well did the Tullys fare last year? The Tyrells? What was the quarter yield delivered per town or settlement? To your average Joe or Jane, these remained dry and trivial pursuits, but all Markas saw was money, money, and yes...more money.

"In propriety of Appleton and adjoining lands, the township claimed five bushels per acre. Total yield tagged and bagged exceeded 467,000 bushels of wheat in Year Two Hundred and Eighty-Three. Notarized herein by Maester Llewyn of Oldtown." He found that rather hard to believe. Appleton had a motte and bailey, sure, but they could barely feed a thousand men-at-arms let alone support an entire city's population.

"My lord..."

Markas sighed, lowering his reading spectacles. "What is it, Garrat?"

"The festivities will soon begin."

"Ah, very well. I suppose watching up-jumped hay boys lose a few teeth could provide some entertainment. Have Byrron and my wife meet me at the quintain. Oh...and I suppose you could inform Lady Cassia as well." It mattered not whether she attended the joust. All eyes would be on her later during the feast where there were more chatting opportunities. Then again, some of these dumber lads might flock early in the name of chivalry or some such nonsense. They might even dedicate their entire tournament run in her name.

 

[neverbackdown]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood Excited

location Kings Landing

outfit https://cdn.cliqueinc.com/posts/291...ashion-291014-1610147855882-square.700x0c.jpg


tag c h a n a

Daphne Tully

/* ------ right side ------ */

Daphne had been sitting relatively quiet in the carriage as they travelled to Kings Landing, her eyes watching the blurring colours of flowers and fields as they passed, a small smile present on her lips that had been there since she finally convinced her brother to let her come the night before. "Are you excited m'lady" the voice broke through Daphne's thoughts and Daphne turned to look at her help and dear friend Eloise "I am indeed, I have always wanted to see Kings Landing" Daphne's grin grew as she spoke, finally allowing the excitement to overtake her while no one of importance was around, knowing that once she left the carriage she would need to regain her poise and elegance once again.

Whilst the purpose of going to Kings Landing was invitation for the Lords to court the new Queen Rhaella, her mother had assured her that there would also be plenty of Lords dismissed by Queen Rhaella with whom Daphne could maybe spark their attention. It was for this reason that Daphne needed to be on top of her game and on the best behaviour when they entered the city.

Daphne turned her attention back to the window as smiled as she realised they had officially reached their destination, her eyes scanned the skyline until she saw it, the castle up ahead. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes for a second, Daphne pushed the bubbling excitement down, a small soft smile replacing the excited grin as she turned back to Eloise. As Daphne went to speak she felt the carriage slow to a halt and raised her eyebrow in confusion. As she opened the carriage door to ask why they had stopped, she watched as her brother dismounted his horse and began to walk away.

Without so much of a second thought, Daphne got out of the carriage and lightly ran to catch up with her brother, ignoring the shouts of baelin longthorpe that she should stay with them, and how it was unsafe in this part of the city for a Lady. "Where are you going?" she asked as she caught up to her brother, her footsteps falling into unison with his. "the smells are wonderful" she commented as an afterthought as her eyes scanned her surroundings the soft smile present on her features once again.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[savageshores]

Location

Kings Landing, the Red Keep

Outfit

Here

Mentions

N/A

hear me roar

cassia lannister

After the very long journey from Casterly Rock to Kings Landing, Cassia was spent. She moved on autopilot, bidding her Uncle farewell for the time being, ignoring Byrron at all costs, and following the Maestar closely behind. He escorted her all the way to the Red Keep, introducing her to anyone of importance to the crown, and handing her over to a handmaiden that she assumed would be hers during the stay.

As Cassia is led through the halls of the Keep, her mind starts to wander. Daydreaming of another life in which a blonde haired beauty controlled the castle, people avoiding her gaze lest she found their stares reprehensible, scheming and lying her way to sitting on that throne of swords. A sad smile pulls at her mouth, she could have been wicked, unassuming, and brilliant. Instead, the handmaiden walks ahead of Cassia, back turned and without a care for potentially offending her. Should she say something?

It is quite rude to walk ahead of a Lady.

The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she swallows them. This was not her castle. She was not her handmaiden.

Cassia is brought to a large wooden door. It seemed like something out of her fairytales.

"This is your room, Lady Lannister." The handmaiden steps aside, gesturing to the door with her warm brown hands. "Please let me know if there is anything you require." Not waiting for Cassia to follow up on that request, she sweeps down the halls.

"That was rude." Cassia finally speaks the words aloud, to no one.

Inside the room it was fairly spacious. A four poster bed sat in the middle of the space, a large dark oak dresser with a mirror taller than her sat atop, facing the bed. There were three large carpets spread across the flooring, and stacks upon stacks of books. Her heart swells. Would it be so terrible to lock herself away and read to pass the time?

She gently closes the door behind her and falls to her knees beside the closest stack, immediately scanning the covers.

There were plenty of histories of the former houses that sat on the Iron Throne. Cassia had studied them extensively, with nothing else to do. Her powers as Lady Lannister was delegated to Maestar Jarak, as she was deemed unfit in his eyes. Since she was only but a girl, there was no point she could truly argue on. Not that she wanted to, anyway. He was terrible enough.

Shucking her coat off, Cassia settles on her side and flips through the first book. It details the many religions of the realm. The Faith of the Seven, the Old Gods, the Drowned God, the Great Stallion, R'hllor... she had heard of them all, but had not truly studied them. She leans her back against the foot of the bed and begins to read.

It seems like hours have passed by the time there's a quick rapping on the door. She looks up, surprised. The handmaiden from earlier peeks her head around and makes a face. Of course, how often did she find a Lady ignoring the comforts this room had to offer to sit on the hard stone flooring? She covers the expression easily. "My Lady, festivities are beginning if you wish to attend."

Cassia opens her mouth and closes it. The Maestar had not instructed her on what to do once she settled into her room. Was she to wait until this evening?

"I..." She trails off, lost.

"Yes, my Lady?"

At that moment, Garrat sidles up beside the handmaiden. He worked for her Uncle, Cassia rarely saw him unless her Uncle was at the castle. "What heavens are you doing on the floor, girl? Up you get. The festivities are beginning and your Uncle thinks it wise for you to join."

She could have sighed in relief. Permission. Closing her book, Cassia attempts a genuine smile at the both of them. "I would like to attend."

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[bayleen]

Morgana Greyjoy

Mood:

Tired

Location:

Kings Landing

Outfit:

no

Tags:

c h a n a (Adria)

Watching her daughter closely in worry, she cursed her other children. She kept a mental note not to let them get close to her unborn child and give it unneeded trauma. Turning to her husband's voice, she noticed Adria releasing her hands; she felt that uneasiness again, worrying that her daughter might be trying to put a front for her father. The Lord chuckled at his daughter's remark, "Yes, it is, and you're handling it pretty well." he said, ushering both girls into the ship. Morgana followed, leaning on her daughter for balance and not looking at her husband; she spoke impatiently, "Where're the twins?!" trying to get her voice across the wind, rapidly picking up.

"They departed this morning."

Finally making her way up, she let go of her daughter, watching as her husband made it safely to the top. 'Yes, because sending two idiots to Kings Landing is smart' Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath to calm herself down. Her husband was wise, but his fault always was that he trusted his children too much. Turning to look at Adria, she smiled quickly, "I'll be a second dove." Turning to her husband, she locked her hand in his, walking with him to the front of the ship, which probably wasn't a good idea considering the wind was whipping her hair back and forth, "Can we talk?"

The Lord nodded, "If this is about the twins-"

Morgana cut him off, letting go of his hand. She knew this was a touchy subject, but she firmly held her ground, ignoring the beating she was getting on her face from her hair, "It's about Adria." clearing her throat, she continued, "Don't pressure her into marriage if she finds someone then it's meant to be just like we were-"

Now it was the Lord's turn to cut off Morgana as he spoke sternly, "Morgana comprehend that I can't do that."

Morgana scuffed, "Oh please, you know what, Lord Greyjoy? Just throw yourself overboard!" turning her back, she screamed, "Goodbye, drowned lord." But before taking another step, her ankle gave up on her expecting to hit the hardwood floor. Lord Greyjoy caught her, "My daughters aren't peace treaties." For a moment, there was only the sound of crashing waves.

Not making eye contact, he spoke, trying to get his point across, "But If the boy is true, I will give her away."

----

The Carriage rattled on these uneven roads, but her attention was on her ankle, feeling a sharp pain. She caught her husband staring at it, opening up her fan; it smacked her husband in the face, not showing much concern, "Oh my are you alright?" he touched his right eye, glaring her down.

The Lord, still eyeing Morgana, spoke, "It hurts a bit."

Morgana smirked, fanning, giving herself a light breeze to get rid of the stench slowly filling up the Carriage, "mmm, don't die." Morgana seemingly was too caught up in herself to notice her daughter struggling to breathe as she voiced her opinion. Switching over next to her, she fanned her daughter's face. Morgana was used to the smells of King's Landing, although she spent most of her time in her father's home, "Well, we're here now, my dove. Fear not. The palace smells like lavender."

The Lord scoffed, "Come on, Adria. It's not that bad."

Still fanning the air around Adria, Morgana rolled her eyes, "It's not surprising that she can't stand disgusting smells. Have you seen Pyke? Its citizens don't walk around without having bathed in centuries."

The Carriage came to a halt, "Stay here." The Lord exited the Carriage talking to the guard and showing proof of their name before opening the door and helping out his ladies, "We'll walk from here." Morgana felt relief. She wanted to change her clothes and take a long bath.

♡design by stardust galaxy, coded by uxie♡

Cordelia

Mood:

Invested in Cassia

Location:

Kings Landing

Outfit:

Mask; Dress

Tags:

savageshores (Cassia)

"The lord of light acknowledges you and thanks you for your benevolence," Cordelia spoke slowly, taking time to enunciate her words. You could almost hear her accent. The man standing before her was a wealthy sponsor who wished to stay in the Lord of lights' good graces. This didn't stop Cordelia from exploiting him since she had no source of income but her sponsors. Looking up, the older man met Cordelia's eyes behind her black mask. Catching his eye, she smiled as he bowed and left the room. Standing in an empty room Cordelia turned to the table, picking up the pouch, and now that it was clasped in her hands, she could feel the strain in her hand a very generous donation indeed; she laughed, realizing the man had left his room.

Walking toward the door, she froze at the sound of footsteps, only opening the door when they faded. She turned to leave until she heard a small voice, and once that small, meek voice echoed in her ear, it was as if she needed to see who it belonged to. Heading in the direction of the voice, she saw a little girl the maid had exposed the young girl as being Lady Lannister. Watching the maid as she left, the little Lannister found her voice, "That was rude."

She was weak, but there was potential. Watching the little figure enter the room. Cordelia wanted to meet the Lannister, but she still had more sponsors to meet. After what seemed like forever, Cordelia gave the last pouch to a young girl no older than 14; Amy, a young slave girl, had purchased it was an unnecessary thing she did. But another follower of the Lord of light wouldn't hurt, "Will you go see the Lannister girl now?" Amy threw the last pouch in a black crate.

Cordelia watched as Amy locked the crate, "Lady Lannister." she corrected her before answering her question with a simple yes.

Amy looked down before quickly chirping back up, "I think she's the one the lord speaks of." Cordelia responded with a smile as she patted Amy on the head before exiting the room. R'hllor's visions had always been hard to decrypt, but one thing was sure the one R'hllor prophecized wasn't the Targaryen queen. She is a queen who is running out of time. Her madness will burn not only her but those around her. Cordelia stopped in her tracks, realizing she was too late and Lady Lannister was already out the door. Turning to leave, a book caught Cordelia's eye going into the room, not paying attention to the passers-bys. She picked the book up, reading its contents, and a smirk made it to her mouth.

---

Following the lady to the tournament waiting for the right moment to talk to her, she was very considerate, not cutting off either party and took off her mask to not scare the young lady before she spoke, "Lady Lannister."

Kneeling to the girl's level, she handed her the book, "I didn't take the Lady for a follower." she spoke with an eerily subdued voice, "Although the book isn't accurate."

♡design by stardust galaxy, coded by uxie♡

 

[savageshores]

Location

Kings Landing

Outfit

Here

Mentions

Markas Jabroni & Cordelia bayleen

hear me roar

cassia lannister

When her father was alive, Cassia remembers attending few jousts, too young to comprehend what she was witnessing. Bystanders seemed to enjoy it immensely. Cassia was just thrilled to be walking around castle grounds without Maestar Jarak breathing down her neck.

A crowd of women by the tents where some of the knights were speaking with each other got her attention. One pretty blonde split away and rushed towards her, a bundle of yellow and red flowers woven around some vines in hand. "My Lady! Lady Lannister, I am so happy to hear you could make it." She thrusts the flowers into her arms and Cassia clumsily takes hold of it. "We made this for you. To gift to one of the knights." Her voice drops an octave as a wicked smile crawls across her small doe-like face. "Personally, I would watch out for Eliar Grimm. He has spoken of you."

That meant nothing to her. "Oh. Thank you." The girl deeply bows and heads back to her crowd of giggling fools.

Cassia slowly turns, bewildered, and spots her Uncle. A weird relief sweeps through her. No matter if the Maestar did not want her to attend these festivities, as he would never be so bold to go against the Blackfox. She strides towards him, hands twisted against her stomach. "Uncle Markas." She greets, immediately taking a seat beside him. Part of her was nervous he would walk back on the offer, tell her to go back to her room and waste away until the evening.

They did not talk often. Maestar Jarak did not let her roam the castle halls on her own accord, unless it had been a few days since anyone had seen her and she was expected to make an appearance lest rumours of her supposed passing were to spread. In those cases, Cassia would simply do a lap around the castle halls but never beyond the walls. She would sometimes find her Uncle in their library. A hobby that the two seemed to share, though she doesn't expect he knows of this.

"How have you spent your day, Uncle? I was brushing up on some history myself. Religions." She specifies and spares him a look.

He was so so much like her father. She had not seen her Uncle's temper, so there was not much to compare to, but they were the spitting image of each other. Her father had lost his warmth towards her near his end, when producing a boy became near impossible, but sometimes she thinks maybe... like Cassia, when he looked at her, he saw her mother. It would not change anything. He was responsible for why her life is on a downward spiral, but there was a time when her father did not hate her. Did her Uncle feel the same? Was she a disappointment to him for being a niece instead of a nephew?

"Lady Lannister."

Cassia startles at the unexpected voice. Her head snaps to the girl before her, almond shaped blue eyes stare kindly back at her. She didn't seem too much older than her, and Cassia was mesmerised as she knelt to her level. She holds out a book and it takes a moment to recognise it. "I didn't take the Lady for a follower."

Truth be told, Cassia was not entirely sure what religion she followed. The Faith of the Seven was popular in her House, a religion that the Maestar pushed her towards, and she supposed she had found some peace in it. But as for some of the religions she had scanned over today, the Seven was not a religion she found herself dedicated towards.

The girl lowers her voice. "Although the book isn't accurate."

Unsure of how to approach the girl, especially with Uncle Markas overhearing the exchange, Cassia clasps her hands together to ground herself. "Which religion might that be? I find myself questioning my beliefs these days." Realising she should be more cautious with this girl in front of her, seeing as she had obviously entered her room after she had left, and was bold enough to approach her in public, Cassia swallows her nerves and asks, "What is your name?"

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[NightQueen]

Loren Tyrell

Location: Kings Landing



Loren sat at the balcony overlooking ship breaker bay, the goblet of Dornish Red in his hand. He had been here 2 days, and already he was receiving reports from some of those in his employ. It was mostly generic things like “this lord was seen in this brothel” Which while funny to read had little to no value. Since the Tourney had been announced, his brother wrote to him from Highgarden advising the benefits of travelling to attend.

He sat there, the sun on his face as he thought back around to the time of the late king’s death. He had been squiring in Storms End and the news rocked the kingdoms, especially when whispers began to come from the capital about what had happened. Of course, in his mind Loren thought the Kings Guard had failed spectacularly in their duties but would not mention these thoughts to anybody. He was no green boy in this game that is played.

Reading the letters that had arrived from his siblings as well as Lord Baratheon and confirming there was no sensitive or damning information in them, he put them into a box with a lock and decided to go and see about the request he had put in at the blacksmiths for a new blade. A tourney was to take place so naturally he had to look and have his best equipment.

He had decided to be a dual wielding swordsman, hence he needed a pair of blades that worked well. He could hear the training instructions from the sellsword he had trained with. For every 2 weapons they can see, have 2 they cannot. It seemed like the height of summer as the sun beat down as he wondered towards the street of steel. The sound of hammering loud as blacksmiths were working in their shops. Children giggling and chasing each other as he went to the shop he had called on when he arrived 2 days previously. Checking on the progress of his 2 new swords.

Once his business was concluded he purchased some candied cherries, a favourite of his sisters. Making his way back to the keep, he wondered what would unfold during the tourney. Having so many nobles in the capital tended to bring out peoples games and moves in the never-ending game they all played.

 

[c h a n a]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood hungry

location king's landing

outfit inspo here

music vibes take a listen

interactions neverbackdown savageshores

lord devon tully

/* ------ right side ------ */

as devon sauntered towards the bakery, he was caught by surprise as his sister's voice caught his attention. he hadn't realized she'd seen him from her carriage, and in all honesty, he was a bit annoyed at the intrusion. it was like that often when they were kids, and despite being grown up by now, devon still had the tendency to view daphne as his annoying baby sister who always wanted to tag along. he turned his head to look at her and rolled his eyes playfully. it would have been rude to tell her to go away, and he wouldn't dare do so. king's landing could be dangerous for a woman after all.

the bakery was an unassuming presence along the bustling cobbled streets, save for it's defining feature: a striking blue canopy hung across it's wide entranceway, sporting a decorative illustration that resembled a loaf of bread. the lord reached into his pocket, retreiving two coins in preparation for his purchase. those who had gathered around had now begun to disperse to make way, and then regroup as he approached the man sitting behind a decadent display of steaming pastries. the other man's face was somewhat hollow, and his cheeks had a ruddy glow. devon pursed his lips awkwardly and glanced at those who had allowed them to skip the line. while some onlookers had paused to watch, others shuffled by without acknowledging the tully duo. it's not like devon expected people to bow down at the very sight, but he understood that it was unusual for a lord and lady of their station to just waltz up to the neighborhood market.

the lord cast the shopkeeper a polite smile, and then remembered his sister was there. he extended a casual hand towards her in a sort of pointing gesture "what do you want?" in front of them lay several choices. most were variations of plain breads, like wheat or sourdough rolls, but some of them were decorated with cocoa, sweet powder, honey, or seeds. to the side, there appeared to be a container of neatly wrapped spreads in wax paper, like whipped butter and cream.

as he awaited his sister's reply, devon took a second to glance around. some of the passersby had begun to disperse at the realization that the tully's weren't there to entertain, and others had turned their attention to a new presence. it would be an understatement to say that devon's attention was stolen. brows furrowing in an attempt to recognize the approaching woman, he would almost appear like he was judging her, though that was far from true. in a few seconds, he'd mentally noted the way the woman's gown fit her frame, and the way her dark hair complimented golden skin. daphne would probably have to slap him back into reality before the shopkeeper ushered them to leave or take their pick. impressed, though not wishing to be rude, devon collected his thoughts and returned his gaze back to the display, arms now crossed over his chest.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[savageshores]

Location

Kings Landing

Outfit

Here

Mentions

Devon c h a n a & Daphne neverbackdown

unbowed, unbent, unbroken

rayne martell

Sweet aromas of sugar and honey invade Rayne's senses as she steps into the bakery, far better than the smell of the streets. It was different in Dorne, the baked goods were more savoury than sweet and Rayne had a certified sweet tooth from birth. She had been craving the souths lemon cakes after traders in the Shadow City had opened her eyes during one of her secret excursions.

Eyes pivot towards her as she moved through the bakery, one hand resting on her abdomen and the other hand brushing the surface of nearby chairs, but her attention is elsewhere. She had taken note of the banners, and knew she was looking at Lord Tully and his sister. She also notices the fleeting way he sizes her up. Devon Tully. Lord of Riverrun, the killdeer, enjoys a good lay from what she can remember listening to Syndra drone on and on about foreign affairs. He carried himself well. She wondered if his charm would match his boyish handsomeness. And the girl... well, she's a petite little thing.

Rayne cannot help but smirk. She would enjoy getting to interact with another House before it's expected, maybe her older sister could thank her for the potential ally and trust her with things of more importance.

"Lord Devon Tully, isn't it?" Rayne sidles up beside him, overlooking the spread of baked goods. She peers around his solid build to acknowledge the girl. "And Lady... Daphne! Lady Daphne. Quite the journey you must have had to end up here. Anything catch your eye?" She directs that at Devon, brow arched. It would turn out that even after what she imagines as days on the road, he smelled better than half the things in this bakery.

"Personally, I will be walking away with at least three honey crispels. They smell utterly divine." Rayne leans forward, eyeing up the wares. She'd take some sweet bread back for Eleanor. Her little sister would surely love to visit the market, but even Rayne knew better than to escort her through these streets.

Twisting her head to the side to take in the Lord once more, she smiles slyly at him. "I take it you've come to win the Queen's heart."

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[Jabroni]

Markas Lannister
Mentions: savageshores bayleen

Turning to Cassia, "The Seven-Pointed Star, is it? Disgustingly optimistic, but useful to understand the rabble." His stance on religion had always been plainly known among the family. It's partly why people saw Markas as a "dark presence" like Aunt Mariyam used to say.

He certainly wondered whether Cassia took their earlier conversation seriously or if she really was fascinated by the Seven. With other people, Markas didn't care how he came across as long as he was winning. But this was different. He had to be careful around her so as not to get the wrong idea, because one day soon she would reach the age of majority. Furthermore, Cassia could never be allowed to join the church, not over his dead body.

Markas washed down some sweet figs with a splash of Arbor red, but as soon as Cordelia pulled into view, it was all he could do not to spill his drink. Thankfully, the exotic, masked traveler payed no attention to him and the topic seemed to carry over nicely. Half wanting to save face, he simply listened to the exchange. In fact, they were actually speaking some sense.

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

• Waverly Baratheon

• 
  
  
  
  Waverly Baratheon
  
  
  
  Making the journey from The Wall to Kings Landing was a long and tiring trek that Waverly knew he needed to make now and would one day have to make again. The lands beyond the wall were treacherous beyond compare but the threat he was worried about no longer came from Wildlings but rather something far more sinister. Several ranger units had gone beyond the wall and come back with reports of the dead rising and a cursed army in the making, if they returned at all. Several men Waverly had grown to consider brothers and friends were among the missing and presumed dead. They were strong men, skilled fighters, not the kind to go down without a fight. Because of this the young former Lord believed this threat to be very real and intended to do his best to get the Lords and the crown to believe it as well.
  
  During his journey south Waverly had stopped through some of the noble houses and met with their lords. He stayed as their guest, rallied men to go back to the wall, sent escorted prisoners to begin their training with the watch, and attempted to fill the Lords in on as much of what was going on as he could. At some point several days ago he had met up with the caravan of House Tully and had been riding with them ever since. He was happy to serve as another sword to keep them safe and to get the opportunity to make his mission known to Lord Devon Tully. At night Waverly had sat by the campfires of their tents and talked with the men, even sharing stories of things he had witnessed beyond the wall. He told them of Wildlings, giants, monsters they had heard of as boys. It wasn’t meant to scare them but he knew by the smell of several guards that the tales had been a tad bit more frightening than he meant for them to be.
  
  Now Waverly was riding into the Red Keep at Lord Tully’s side and when Devon and his sister Daphne journeyed off after a delightful smell he helped to get the horses settled before finally catching up. By the time Waverly managed to catch up with the Tully’s they had found their way to a bake shop that smelled absolutely delightful. Just one look at the bread reminded Waverly of how under supplied his brothers at the wall were and he instantly felt ashamed to be here while they faced the cold, hunger, and growing threat. Looking as stoic as ever Waverly dipped his head in greeting towards Lord Tully and Daphne before catching sight of Lady Rayne Martell. He had never met her before but by her looked and the way in which she carried herself he knew instantly who she was from the research he had done before embarking on this mission. “My Lord, my Ladies.” He greeted politely. He was once like them, a lord, an heir to the Baratheon house, but he had given all of that up. For a moment his heart hurt as he thought of the very thing that drove him to join the Night’s Watch and he allowed the image of Letta’s face to enter his mind. “I apologize for the interruption.” He stated as he stood with the same solid posture he had grown up learning. “I fear I may have caught up with you at a bad time, would you prefer I take my leave?” He inquired, not wanting to impose.
  
  savageshores c h a n a neverbackdown
  
  
  
  
  TEMPLATE © BOKEH
  
  

 

[neverbackdown]

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mood Excited

location Kings Landing

outfit here


tag c h a n a

Daphne Tully

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Daphne noticed her brothers posture stiffen when she made herself known and she sighed inwardly wondering when her brother would ever be happy with her company. They were not little children anymore and yet she was aware that her brother still viewed her as same. She caught him roll his eyes at her in a playful manner and she smirked before raising her eyebrows at him in an amused manner.

Daphne suddenly became aware of the people watching them and moving out of their way and she fought herself to keep from looking confused by it. Instead she allowed a soft smile to grace her lips and gave small greeting nods to people whose attention she caught. Looking around her now and especially at the people present she tried to gauge how they lived. She had heard whispers that the stark premonition might finally be coming true and due to this she had become a bit more observant of people's situations and circumstances. Although she was aware that there was not much she could do for the civilians of Kings Landing and she was sure her brother would have a lot to say if she tried to give out money right now and so she sauntered on as she pushed her thoughts to the back of her head.

The smell of the baked good was overwhelming in the best way possible as they reached the stand containing a variety of baked goods. When her brother asked what she would like, Daphne pursed her lips in thought before pointing towards one covered in cocoa "I'll have that one please".

Daphne felt someone approaching and turned in time to see a girl coming to a stop beside them. Daphne hurriedly tried to place the girl now talking to them and the fact that she appeared to know both their names made Daphne need to get it even more. Daphne carefully but quickly studied the girl, a delicate smile on her lips to hide how hard her brain was currently working as she took in her accent, clothes and appearance, trying to remember what her mother had thought her prior to her travels to Kings Landing. Finally it clicked and Daphne had to stop herself from cheering out loud. "Princess Rayne, It's a pleasure to meet you" Daphne's voice was strong and confident yet also held a delicate tone, the voice of a Lady or so her mother has told her before.

She watched as the princess clearly started to flirt with her brother as she did her best not to smirk.She wondered if he would pick up on the very telling lines or would be oblivious like a lot of men seem to be. Daphne thought about going back to the carriage or for a walk a little further down the town, her lips pouting slightly as she tried to decide if her brother would give out or not if she walked off. As if answering her prayers a familiar voice sounded beside her and she turned to face Deputy Commander Waverley. "No need to apologise" Daphne assured him a smirk playing on her lips as she said the next line "but maybe we should take our leave, I will meet you back at the horse's brother" Daphne gave her brother a knowing look before walking off with the pastry in her hand. Daphne had purposely gone the opposite direction of where they had left the troop and horses, she wanted to explore the city knowing full well herself that this might possibly be the only chance she got. "So tell me Commander, when do you plan to return to the wall, and do you miss it?". Daphne had to say she had quite liked the Commanders Company on their travels finding him easy to talk to and in her opinion and genuine guy, she also found his stories of what was beyond the wall fascinating and had decided she would quite like to visit it at least once in her life.

As the pair walked, Daphne realised quite quickly that they were heading into a poorer part of the city as the people began to look dirtier and thinner. She noted how the colours appeared to drain from the cobblestones and walls the deeper into the city she got, it had an unkempt appearance to it. Her eyes fell on two small children sitting on the side of the path, she could not tell if they were family or friends but one looked about 8 and the other must have only been 6 at the most. They looked unfed and unkept and it hurt Daphne to see such a thing. Before Commander Barathon could say anything or stop her Daphne walked over and knelt beside the two children who looked at her in awe, completely unaware of people beginning to stare. She quickly unwrapped her pastry from its wrapper and broke the bread in half giving a piece to each child a gentle smile on her lips. "Here you go, eat this child, are you ok?" Daphne looked the children over and could tell that they were ok just it was obvious that times had been tough on their family, it broke her heart to see underprivileged situations. As Daphne went to stand up the little girl hugged her and a small joyful laugh escaped her lips as she gently hugged the child back. She didn't mind the dirt that was probably now on her dress, sure it would wash out.

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