bloodfcrblood

[bloodfcrblood]

setting: after the kingdom's return from the events in the west, in king's landing, the lady of house rosby visits the ruling lord of driftmark, to offer her condolences for his lady-wife, and her support for his house in the aftermath ; starter for @deimos-velaryon

saella qoherys stepped into the quiet hall with the practiced grace of one who understood the value of patience. the long, dark gown she wore swirled behind her like an extension of the shadows, as though she herself was a part of the gloomy atmosphere that weighed down the room. she found the lord of driftmark stood near the window, his back to her, but even from behind, she could sense the tightness in his shoulders, the rigidity of his posture. grief, anger... guilt.

she paused for a moment, taking in the scene with a calculated calm, before she moved toward him. her steps were light, deliberate, careful not to make too much noise. when she spoke, her voice was soft, full of the practiced empathy that came so easily to her. “i’m so sorry to hear of your loss, lord velaryon,” she began, her tone the perfect balance of concern and distance. "

“your lady wife was a lovely woman, and i hope those responsible are brought to whatever justice you wish for them.” she continued, her tone smooth as silk, “you should know that you have my house's full support during this difficult time, my lord. should you need any resources, any assistance, I would be more than happy to offer what I can.” she let her words settle, watching him carefully for any flicker of interest. ties to house velaryon were already well established, but saella saw any opportunity to lend a hand - and perhaps seek a favor in return, one day, should she need one of him.

[bloodfcrblood]

saella’s gaze remained fixed on the silver-haired figure as she leaned forward against the railing, intrigued. her eyes were sharp, a glimmer of amusement tucked within their depths, as her wine-slicked fingers lightly drummed on the cup’s rim. the gladiators, now still at attention, were nothing more than an audience to the show unfolding before them.

when rhaegar spoke, her lips quirked upward in a smile—one that was laced with a touch of irony. “rather uninformed, your sources,” he had said. her heart quickened, but only slightly, as she recognized the depth of the game now before her. she was no fool, though she often played one to her advantage. saella had heard whispers of his death, of the mysterious disappearance that had shadowed his name in the wake of the war, and yet here he was—alive, and standing in her arena as if time had chosen to forget him.

she let his words hang in the air for a moment, a knowing glint in her lilac eyes. "ah, braavos," she said, her voice smooth, almost teasing. "a beautiful place, indeed. though I must confess, it has never held quite the same... charm for me as it seems to have for you, my prince." she leaned forward, her posture one of casual authority, as if the very air she breathed was one of command.

"and as for my sources," she continued with a small, but deliberate tilt of her head, "perhaps they simply underestimated the resilience of a prince who refuses to be forgotten. or perhaps they were the ones in need of a more reliable guide." her lips parted slightly, a smile playing at the corner of them. "and yet… braavos is far from the only place that knows how to hide someone, don't you think?"

her gaze softened, but there was no mistaking the sharpness in her words. "you were gone for quite a while, my prince. long enough that even those closest to you thought you were lost to time. i suppose his grace's ascendence to the iron throne was no better time to return?"

Wood met wood in dizzying movements, rudimentary clacks echoing through the round space. Rhaegar could tell the gladiator he was sparring with was wholly overwhelmed by his swiftness, his maneuvers of evasion and the way he struck; sure and bold. With a precision that was not taught in a gladiators ring.

Rhaegar held his breath on the move and exhaled when it hit true. Inhaled on a step back, alike a dance on water itself. It was a flexing of well honed muscles and instincts, smooth like the melted salted butter on his favorite meal as a child. Frustrations welled in his opponent now and again, coming and going like waves. It made for interesting intervals in their sparring session. Drive born from gritting ones teeth and charging ahead, sometimes stupidly and sometimes with a plan behind each movement, seeking their hits to find their target.

Beads of sweat ran down both their faces as their duel mounted to a peak - and then, just like that, it was over.

A shout could be heard overtop their fighting and suddenly, his opponent dropped his arm to his side where he had formerly been mid movement. Alert, the gladiators gazed up at the balcony, near unmoving. Rhaegar let out a deep breath, a slight furrow to his brows as he swiped a sweaty lock of silvery blond out of his forehead. He took his time, turning once around himself before looking up at the balcony with an almost defiant edge to his icy gaze. He would have liked to go on training. This interruption was inconvenient at best.

Setting sight on the lady, though, he found himself relaxing the pinched look on his features. Saella Qoherys was no stranger to him, even if it had been well over a decade since he had last spoken to her. "Rather uninformed, your sources," he called up to where she stood on the balcony, like a figure carved from marble. A statue with light hair and lilac eyes to watch over the men playing their trivial little games. He stepped a little closer, head tipped back into his neck. The wooden training sword was jabbed into the uneven sandy ground so he could rest his palms on the hilt. "Braavos," he admitted, an ease to his voice that had been northing short of practiced over the last three and ten years. "Beautiful place, have you ever been?"

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brows rose in surprise at the name uttered from gaia's lips, and even more, that she had called him her friend. it were not that saella thought that gaia had no friends, quite the opposite, really, but rather, she did not expect her sister to have found a friend in such a high place. "grafton?" she questioned, giving way to the curiosity that lingered in her mind, now. finger moved over the edges of the pages, not quite opening it yet, but hinting to her next move.

"where'd he get it?" she asked, and saella felt the uneasiness of the object in her very hands, a sixth sense of sorts that seemed to make it's way through her veins, the same sort of feeling she had experienced when she drank the blue liquid in the dragon pits some time ago. it was the same feeling that some strange memories of harrenhal, that were not her own, gave her. that alone made her begin to grow more anxious, almost angry that gaia would bring this into their home. she opened it now, not really looking at the page and moreso gauging her sister's reaction to the act. "you can, soon." she answered, holding up the page to gaia. "what is this and where is it from?"

Gaia stopped short when she saw Norbie's journal in her sister's hands. Held aloft like an accusation as lavender stared right at her. Aenogaia bit back a grimace. A foolish misstep on her part, to place the journal right where Saella kept her papers, right where she did the things their ruling lord brother seemed to be wholly incapable of.

She ought to have known. She also knew Saella's views on her downright obsession and with the curse she vehemently denied existed at all.

"It was a gift," she spoke carefully. "From Norbert Grafton." Gaia smiled then, mischievously, even if it was a little shaky around the edges. "I have friends, you know. It may be a bit uncommon, though not unheard of." She hoped this, at least, would be enough to placate Saella, to spare them both another lecture. "Can I have it back?" Gaia reached out her hand across the desk.

[bloodfcrblood]

setting: before the kingdom of new valyria departs to the westerlands, saella is observing her gladiators sparring on the tourney grounds, and notices a familiar, ghostly figure amongst them ; starter for @fromthcfires

context: this is before it is known that rhaegar targaryen lives.

the sounds of wooden swords clashing against one another filled the air as saella qoherys observed some of her best gladiators within the sparring grounds, readying themselves to be presented in the westerlands tournaments. lilac hues keenly watched as a cup of spiced wine hung delicately between fingers. while she often used these opportunities to draw in more sponsors, wining and dining them while they watched gladiators in their element in real time, today she were alone, save for some swords of her house. it were times like these where she solely watched and noted what could be better, though she knew little of the art of the sword, she knew much of what a performance should be - and it were much of that than anything else.

an unfamiliar figure, however, found itself within the ground. lilac hues bore into the figure, who moved sparring sword with ease and skill, nobly trained, for certain, and quick on his feet. he was not one of her men, and she wondered who he was at all. the lady rose to her feet, approaching the railing of the balcony she sat at that overlooked the grounds, and in taking notice of this, the lead gladiator called to the others to cease, and ready themselves to hear what their lady had to say. saella continued to look at the silver-haired fighter in their midst, who's features were that of one who was long dead.

were he a dragonseed? she did not think so. if a dragonseed had come to her ludus, she would have taken special notice, and they would have received different treatment. though their blood was tainted, they were still of old valyria. no - he was no bastard. "it is as if i have been transported back in time, my lord." she called, a small sense of jest in her voice, gauging his reaction.

she were a young girl visiting the crownlands long before the dragons danced and the skies raged with flame and death. saella had known the faces of all the prince's of the realm, both green and black, and she never quite forgot a face. "though last i heard you were no longer of this world." she gestured for him to come closer so they could speak more directly. "where have you been all this time, prince rhaegar?"

[bloodfcrblood]

setting: rosby, after their return from the westerlands, the ladies of house qoherys make a stop home before returning to the court of dragons ; starter for @blocdinthewater

she were not the ruling lady of the house, no, that title was held by her brother's dearest wife, the one who helped house qoherys make their way into the lands of rosby from their settlement upon dragonstone. it were tactical, clearly so, but the marriage seemed successful enough, except for a lack of heir. saella, however, was not quite concerned with such a thing, sought it's delay, even.

there was a faint smell of oak within the halls as she made her way towards the seating room, a spacious area that contained bookshelves, too. the lady often found herself taking to her accounting in her, for the lighting was much better than the rooms that had been dedicated as the solar in this place. she had a mind to redecorate, but no time or patience for it, at this moment.

entering the room she shuffled through her normal documents, however, something nearby upon the table caught her eye. it looks like parchments, a journal, edges frayed and charred, her light grasp causing small black flakes to fall from it. brows furrowed, uncertain of what these were or where they came from. lavender hues looked up to see the image of her sister staring back at her. saella held up her findings, certain she knew of their origin. "what are these?"

[bloodfcrblood]

[bloodfcrblood]

saella rolled her violet eyes, knowing very well that axell was going to be difficult regarding giving her more to spend - a part of her that she would never let him see understood why, but she also knew that they had plenty more, or he would simply earn it back. she never really cared where he got it, or how, only that she continued to live comfortably. over the years she had simply gotten used to a certain lifestyle that she intended to maintain. while their relationship was certainly not the healthiest, she also did not feel any indication he intended to leave her, and she did not intend to leave, either. there was always some strange pull between them, and it didn't matter if it was as if they were under some spell. they succumbed to it time and time again.

"too hard for me? is that why you aren't trying at all?" she snipped back, ultimately a satisfied smirk coming over her lips, dimpling her cheeks, as she plucked the cash from his hand, got on her tippy toes, and kissed the corner of his mouth. "come on, won't you be my good luck charm for a while?"

.

now this was the kind of night axell relished. the smoky haze, the clinking of glasses, and the thrill of gambling. it was far better than the stiff, formal affairs where everyone sipped on cheap wine while pretending to enjoy it. tonight, he was in his element, reveling in the action at the poker tables.

but even the best hand could wait when he spotted a familiar face—a girl from school, now all grown up. worth a little distraction. they had just started catching up when his wife appeared by his side, the other woman quickly slipping away, sensing the charged atmosphere.

“keep losing my money?” he quipped, a smirk playing on his lips as he turned to face his wife. his hand slipped into his jacket pocket to pull out a cigarette instead of his wallet. he took his time lighting it up before speaking. “maybe try something a little simpler if you keep losing. could be too hard for you.” another snide remark to toss into the cauldron of back-and-forth barbs they’d been slinging all night. to anyone overhearing them, it would sound like they absolutely despised each other. and maybe, at times, they did.

but there was also something deeper—an intense fire that burned for her.a force that felt as if letting her go would send him spiraling into an abyss. it was a possessive need, one that made him crave her closeness, even if it meant they were yelling at each other. passionate, messy, but undeniably real.

with a resigned sigh, he reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and handing her a few more bills. “for the children,” he said, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, knowing full well that tonight, she’d be back for more.

[bloodfcrblood]

saella snorted at the comment, of course gaia had always read her better than anyone. they didn't have to always discuss things outright, her sister simply had that way about her. there were times where it felt as if her little sister was actually her elder, and the guilt bore itself deep within her stomach at the thought of having failed in that sense. life had been a whirlwind of chaos for saella, perhaps much at her own fault.

"eh, he's around here somewhere." the truth was they hadn't even arrived together to this event. their tumultuous marriage was no secret. "why thank you." she stated, dragging out the words dramatically as she gave a little pose in her midnight blue, form-fitted gown. a small laugh escaped her as she plucked another cocktail from a nearby waiter, moving to hook her arm in her sisters to go find a seat to take. "what have you been up to lately? how is the business going?"

"Hey," she drew out the word, one eyebrow cocked as she looked at her sister. The night was no longer young, and Gaia wasn't necessarily surprised by the flush on Saella's cheeks, betraying at least some of the glasses of booze she'd indulged in. Gaia couldn't nor would she blame her, she'd done no different.

A small grin built on her lips at the compliment, ruffling the fabric of her black, flowy dress. It had been a lucky find. Gaia found it beautiful as well. Even better; it was comfortable. "You look nice, too. Did you ditch the hubby?" Brow still cocked, though this time more curious than scrutinizing.

[bloodfcrblood]

setting: winter dance, starter for @vlxyrianclaws

there had always been some magnetic pull from saella qoherys to maximus celtigar, some twisted invisible string that lead her to him, over and over again. despite their parting ways after graduating from school, her marriage to axell, him dating other people, they still found each other in and out of one another's lives from time to time. old habits never really quite died between them, and that was precisely what drew her to approach him at the dance, she was sure her husband likely found himself preoccupied with another, anyways, they had already butted heads enough and they had only just arrived.

champagne glass dangled between her fingers as she flashed a feigned smile, blinking long lashes at him. saella leaned an arm upon the cocktail table, momentarily relishing the relief from standing upon her aching feet, they usually went numb by now. "hello, maximus." she greeted him, eyes scanning the crowd before looking to him, again, as if she were looking for someone, and she were.

"don't tell me you arrived alone?" head tilted to the side in mock curiosity, of course saella knew very well he did not, but she always enjoyed the game of cat and mouse they seemed to play, only she were never quite sure which she was at any given moment. "was it your heart of gold lead you back to your old academy for the fundraiser?" she grinned, because in all honestly, she were entirely curious as to what would bring a man like him back here. were it the connections? opportunity? the arrogant part of her mind suggested it were because she would likely be present, but even if that were a small part of it, she knew he would not admit to it, anyways. perhaps she preferred to imagine it was the reason to herself.

[bloodfcrblood]

modern au

setting: winter's dance, starter for @blocdinthewater

the night was young and saella had already overindulged in wine, she knew it, and probably anybody who bothered to speak to her knew it, too. she wasn't foolish enough to embarrass herself, however, and eventually she would slip out and go for a swim in the pool hall, or call it a night. before she could decide on either, however, she happened upon her little sister, and waltzed right up to her. "hello little sis." she greeted, arms crossed over her chest.

aenogaia had probably done better off than most would've thought, and frankly, saella envied the other for having such a strong sense of self, and maintaining that, whereas over the years, she felt she lost bits and pieces of who she was, perhaps by her own fault. it mattered not for she didn't necessarily make any point to fix it, instead finding reprieve in more bad habits. "i'm glad you're here. your dress looks nice."

[bloodfcrblood]

modern au

setting: casino night, starter for @mountainvroyce

it was said to bet on black everytime, or so saella thought she was told, she didn't really like to be told what to do or what bets to place, but she also wanted to win even more. despite that, the ball landed on red, and she had lost her wager, again. the blonde haired woman opened the clutch in her hand, digging around the various items in it, and realized she was all out of money.

that means she would have to ask for more.

saella nodded to the dealer and walked away from the table, eyes scanning the room until she saw the tall figure of her husband in the near distance. she hadn't a clue what woman he was speaking to, nor did she care. she simply approached them and looked at her until she got the hint to walk away. saella then turned to axell and flashed a fake smile, gesturing to his pocket. "i need to get some more chips. it's for the children." she stated, honeyed words lace with their usual venom.

[bloodfcrblood]

Claire Holt as REBEKAH MIKAELSON

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES S03E19 - Heart Of Darkness

[bloodfcrblood]

amethyst hues gazed at the tourney before her, of course unable to present a gladiator of house qoherys up for the competition. she always thought her brother useless in such things. not there he were incapable, but seemed to have such a lack of interest in opportunities, where saella saw them ripe for the picking. it was in that thought she heard the voice of a lord beside her, and hues shifted to look at him.

he were tall, with dark hair, and youthful features. she were not quite up to par with all the names those of the lords of the riverlands, but no doubt she would figure out who he was, sooner or later. "he is, my lord." she replied, tone holding a sense of formality as it always did in such interactions. "the tempers of the riverlords are no secret, i thought it would be interesting to see how my mans hands fare against your own."

light brows rose in interest and surprise at his request, though not entirely odd in itself, she wondered what the thought itself would leave to. "a man who was like him, in his youth. when fighters have no where to go upon victory, they simply stay with my house, and train the younger." she stated, body shifting to face him now as the conversation took a small turn. "he is in the crownlands at present, but i would have no qualms with setting a meeting, should you wish to have one."

closed starter for @bloodfcrblood

"that your man?"

he spoke to the woman beside him, but his eyes were affixed on the gladiator before him, taking part in the hand-to-hand combat portion of the contests. it was supposed to be a friendly competition, quite unlike the show of strength at the tourney in the west, and yet, the gladiator fought with such ferocity that he could not look away.

he looked at her then, renewed interest in his eyes. she didn't look to be much more than a lady of the crownlands, valyrian in appearance, poised and put together. "he fights well," he admitted, a begrudging sort of respect in his tone. "who trains him?" he doubted very much she was the one doing so. she would surely have a master-at-arms, and ben would very much like to know who that was. "i'd like to meet them."

[bloodfcrblood]

(Almost) Every Costume Per Episode + Ilithiya’s embellished purple robe in 1x01

[bloodfcrblood]

saella could sense her sister's anxiousness, and she knew she need rid her of such a feeling before she was to see the king's hand, for that would only draw further suspicion towards her. she exhaled loudly, understanding where aenogaia was coming from, and yet, believing that she were not spoken poorly of. perhaps thought different from the other ladies, but not in a manner that made her seem suspicious of doing something to harm another, especially the queen. "you will wear your best dress, you will speak plainly. you will be fine, i assure it." the cogs of her mind began to turn, should suspicion come to aenogaia, she needed to plan on how to turn the narrative upon someone else. she would decide who that would be, once interviews had been completed.

Even if there came a certain relief with the relevation that Saella had received the same missive, the tightness taking a hold of her insides was not entirely gone. Entirely standard, her sister said, nothing to worry about. Aenogaia's lips pressed together in a tight line. "You don't have to worry about this," she spoke, snatching the parchment back. "No one would ever suspect you of trying to harm the Queen." Gaia was not one to feel self-conscious about who she was or the way she presented herself; but when it could cost her her life, that carefully built structure of confidence gained a couple of cracks. "Look at me, Sae. Look at me and tell me what you think they'll see. Not what you see. What he will see," she lifted the message and shook it a little, referring to the Hand of the King.

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the lady of rosby sat across from the hand, marbled features still as she observed him. he were a squirrely looking man, though he did not seem so skittish as one, rather, he were wise and observant. clearly, he must be, to have been chosen to be hand of the king, as a stormlander, no less. though he spoke the words, they did not necessarily seem as his own, not genuinely. it were all rehearsed, all would be questioned the same, only their answers would decide whatever came next for them.

while saella knew it wise to answer with some semblance of vague honesty, she knew that she were likely higher upon the list of suspects for whatever this was, simply because of the side of the war her house had chosen, and who know sat on the throne. she understood it. should she have ever been born a targaryen, wearing the heaviest of crowns, she would certainly have held the same suspicions of those who opposed her. "certainly, my lord hand." she answered, voice rich and smooth with practiced poise, though no doubt it emitted from her naturally, at this point.

"i do not have any deeply rooted thoughts on the matter. it was clearly an alliance formed out of necessary for funds and the backing of an allied power, no doubt to help fuel and restore our economy." hands clasped in her lap as figure sat straight in her chair. "perhaps in those terms, i hope we can soon maintain our own."

who: @bloodfcrblood what: questioning, in reaction to this post.

there was an open window in the corner of the room of the tower of the hand, the breeze and the wind causing the curtains to waft as the hand of the king walked into the room. the questioning took place within the tower of the hand, precisely because wylliam did not want people to feel as though they were guilty of anything. there was a time and place for settings like dungeons, and as of this moment, wylliam needed to gather what facts he had - and what facts he still needed to know of.

there was an attendant who sat to the left of him who was responsible for writing down the answers given. word for word, no paraphrasing.

"his grace is thankful for your time and your cooperation." wylliam spoke, his tone remaining courteous as he took his seat, both of his arms coming to rest upon the solid wooden oak table. his opening statement was picked carefully though; for it showed that the king was wholly involved in this matter. four questions, four answers; and that was all - no doubt there would be times where wylliam would have extra questions, and they would be addressed then and there.

"i have some questions for you, and it would provide much clarity to the wrong done in this court." he cleared his throat slightly, taking a sip of the sweet wine in his cup, if not to stop his own heart from beating. "it is imperative you answer truthfully, with as much detail as you can remember. your answers are being recorded, and you may need to clarify, or follow up." he paused, as though to let his words sink in. "let us begin."

"what, if any, are your thoughts on the alliance between king jaehaerys targaryen and king tyland lannister?

[bloodfcrblood]

( below is a self-para of what saella qoherys saw when she drank the shade of the evening just before the death of viserys targaryen - trigger warnings: blood, hallucinations, death, fire. )

the initial taste was horrid - perhaps the most pungent thing that had ever surpassed her lips.

saella knew not what convinced her to drink this mysterious blue liquid alongside the others in this room with her, perhaps it were the desire to cease the arguing amongst them of just who would do it. she did not imagine the affect it would bestow on her. the taste was rotten, and then it was not, then it was everything all at once, until she swallowed and it was nothing yet again.

she scoffed, setting the drink down, in a plume of smoke it disappeared before her eyes, the room darkened around her until a piercing scream filling her ears. hands quickly found themselves on either side of her head, yet, the sound grew louder, and louder, and louder, until there was only silence.

a sickly, sinister, silence. the sounds of whispering, muttering in some ancient tongue she could not comprehend began echoing down a dimly lit hallway. her feet began to pace, almost enchanted by the sound as if it were a siren song beckoning her to the depths of an ocean. she opened her mouth, but her voice was caught in her throat - until the taste of blood filled her mouth. lilac hues shifted down to the floor, feet bare and soaked with the red liquid that seemed to surround her, dripping down the walls, the whispering growing louder and louder.

until everything shifted - and she were in the great hall of some rain-soaked, abandoned keep. she suddenly knew where she had found herself when a sinister chuckle came from behind her, the feeling of hot breath down her neck, and within the reflect of a pool of water beneath her, she could make out the image of harren the black, much of his skin burnt, sloughing off of his very bones like well-cooked meat. saella moved to run and she could feel a grip around her arm, tightening, until she managed to free it, falling forward as the room swirled around her yet again.

the smell of smoke and fire filled her senses now, she lay there, the sounds of war, blades clashing and men screaming, coming just from outside. a roar of a dragon and flames now surrounded her. tapestries falling - first that of house qoherys, then that of house strong. saella could feel the heat on her skin and finally - she could scream.

she inhaled, trying to find breath in the fire, and her senses filled with that of the earth and dirt,. she were in the godswood, where the weirwoods loomed over her, their branches weeping with the tragedy of this place. her silver hair stuck to her skin, soaked with the rain that never seemed to stop pouring from the sky.

to her left a shadowy figured appeared - a pale woman cloaked in a dark hood, only her raven tresses could be seen in the dim moonlight. through the sound of raindrops pattering upon already soaked earth - saella could make out the murmurs of the woman just some paces before her. and in her last vision, her last memory before she came to in that very same room in which she began in, she heard these words:

"harrenhal demands a price. for every ambition, a life; for every joy, a sorrow. it is a place where dreams turn to nightmares, where hope is but a fleeting illusion. beware the curse, for it spares no one, and its hunger is never sated."

the sound of a scream pulled her from within her own mind, it was not her now, but another in the room. saella found her back pressed to the stone wall behind her, the other figures in various parts of the room. one, however, was not standing, but lying.

dead. viserys targaryen was dead.

a hand came to her mouth in shock and horror, no gladiatorial battle prepared her for the sight. she was unsure of what had just occurred, of what she had just seen. deciphering between reality and her mind seemed entirely impossible now. what was that mysterious drink? who would want them to have endured the effects of such a thing?

whoever it was, whatever it was - saella had found she unlocked something she did not know was there. something she had denied, disbelieved, and now, she believed. now, she wanted to know more, see more. something in her was discovered this day within a passageway she did not think was possible.

and now that she had the key, she intended to unlock that very door again.