#... 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵 𝑹𝑯𝑨𝑬𝑵𝑨 ﹐ script

[trhowesteros]

❝  i do hope, my sweet boy, you haven't come into any ideas from your brother's little production.  ❞   westerosi  queen  can  only  weather  so  many  storms  at  once,  and  with  a  son  set  upon  pulling  at  the  seams  of  an  alliance  and  a  daughter  running  around  provoking  her,  she  can  take  no  more  insolence  from  her  youngest  son.  ❝   nor that you knew what was to occur,   @steelfyre​  .  ❞

[trhowesteros]

❝  you're either the paragon of bravery or a fool. i've yet to decide which it is.  ❞  gaze  of  old  valyria  turns  upon  the  heir  to  goldengrove,  dragon's  fury  simmering  below  the  surface.   ❝ whichever  it  may  be,  young man, you  must  have  wit  enough  to  know  that  just  now  your house lies far from my favour, @romanceur.  ❞

[trhowesteros]

❝  i demand an explanation.  ❞  quiet  words  are  followed  by  a  sharp  inhale, starlight-haired queen looking  to  her  second  first-born  for  the  first  time,  the fury of a dragon so long subdued within byzantium gaze.    ❝  you  ​​​​​​​are  ​​​​​​​intended  to  ​​​​​​​be  ​​​​​​​the  next  king - and your first act in the eyes of the empire is to go against your vows. to make a mockery of something so sacred.   ❞ a mockery of the blessed rite of marriage, yes. but of her person, too. for how valyrian had worked for the alliance - ensuring all would go to plan in the boy's marriage to the princess adhika. ❝  by  the  gods, @oftroje,  have  you  given  any  thought  to  the  consequences  of  your  actions  ? 

[trhowesteros]

dragoness's  temper  is  already  aglow  as  @cursebrcken  enters,  servants  around  tensing  at  what  they  know  will  surely  be  an  outburst.  knuckles  on  ring  adorned  fingers  clench  around  gilded  chalice  (  a  pious  queen  yet  never  a  penurious  one  )  as  its  forcibly  placed  upon  cupbearer's  tray.  ❝  dear  boy,  you'll  forgive  me  if  i  cut  the  niceties  as  i  ask  if  you've  lost  all  sense  of  honour  ?  of  decorum  ?  ❞

[trhowesteros]

❝  the actions of our kin determine our futures. you'd do well to keep that in mind, @steelfyre.  ❞   for his own sister would be next to stand at the alter, and as one of valyrian's own people - the consequences of such an act being repeated would be dire.  ❝   lord rowan's family will unquestionably be affected by his actions, i have simply uncertain as to just how.  ❞ a pause, old valyria's gaze turning on her master of laws. ❝  what is certain, is my council is now missing a piece.  ❞

[trhowesteros]

❝  i  trust  you've  become  acquainted  with  our  visitors  in  the  days  since  their  arrival?  ❞  sharp  words  -  spoken with a strength she seems to hold so rarely these days  -  are  followed  by  monarch  emptying  her  goblet,  crimson  ichor  slipping  down  her  throat  with  ease.   ❝  have  you  learned  much  of  them,  besides  their ... peculiarities?   i  intend  for  them  to  be  kept  in  high  spirits  as  long  as  we  are  able, @steelfyre.  ❞

[trhowesteros]

❝  your  son  is  but  a  few  name  days  his  junior  -  he  should  have  done  the  same. ❞  except,  her  own  child  would  one  day  be  king,  and  her  legacy  would  be  made  through  him  -  his  would  stand  to  inherit  only  goldengrove.  ❝  but  we  have  always  been  so  wary  to  force  our  children's  hands,  are  we  not? ❞  for  their  grief  would  bring  ruin,  yet  she  does  not  pay  mind  to  their  happiness  -  only  what  is  best.  for  how  her  eldest  girl  stands  as  the  very  poison  that  rots  away  at  all  goodness,  desiring  more  when  she  is  undeserving  of  more  than  her  name.  ❝   you  would  see  your  willas  married  to  that  same  daughter  of  mine  -  yet  you  claim  she'd  see  her  brother  killed.  what  of  her  husband  ⸻  how  can  you  stand  it  if  you  believe  her  so  wicked?  a  kinslayer  would  not  stop  with  blood.  ❞  if  he  were  any  other,  she'd  have  silenced  him  at  once.  if  they  had  not  shared  a  friendship  -  the  closest  she  has  (  and  isn't  that  cruel  to  think  )  in  these  times  -  for  all  others  are  held  beyond  reach,  even  her  own  kin.  especially  her  own  kin.  she  is  not  cowed  as  he  grows  tall,  her  own  smaller  stature  growing  hard  -  gentle  queen  gone  and  in  her  place  the  dragon  she  had  long  pushed  down.  her  voice,  low  and  cold,  holds  steel.  ❝   were  we  willing  sacrifices  in  our  own?  ❞  a  scoff  of  disbelief,  ❝   what  the  girl  wants  matters  not,  she  will  be  queen  one  day.  the  emperor  will  see  his  daughter  give  birth  to  the  heir  to  the  iron  throne,  and  it  is  that  that  will  matter.  the  gods  will  see  to  it. ❞

❝  your  grace,  perhaps  it  is  time  to  face  the  music  -  that  boy  of  yours  should've  had  five  children  by  now  like  you  did  at  that  age,  he  is  no  longer  a  disobedient  youth  ⸺  he  is  a  man  grown,  your  heir.  ❞  his  words  do  not  aim  to  kill,  more  honest  to  her  than  desmond  has  ever  been  -  the  ache  brought  upon  her  are  more  cruel  this  way.  parent's  love  for  a  child  can  break  them.  ❝  even  then,  is  kinslaying  a  youthful  rebellion  too  ?  you  are  lucky  your  prince  of  summerhall  was  not  slain  by  his  sister's  puppets.  ❞  was  he  this  blind  with  his  own  children  too  -  incapable  of  seeing  their  indiscretions,  believing  them  to  be  innocents  when  they  are  the  devil  in  disguise.  ❝  it  is  my  grief  that  allows  me  to  see  things  clear  -  you  have  a  chance  to  redeem  yourself  ⸻  for  this  kingdom,  your  children,  and  those  grandchildren  you  refuse  to  recognize.  our  crown  prince  is  truly  his  mother's  son.  ❞  gaze  moves  away  from  the  targaryen  queen,  hand  covers  his  eyes  as  sigh  escapes  -  his  youngest  no  longer  amongst  the  living,  how  he  wishes  they  could've  traded  places.  foolish  boy.  ❝  and  will  these  gods  prevent  rebellion  when  the  truth  is  unraveled  ?  how  will  the  essosi  delegation  react  when  they  hear  news  about  this  betrayal  ?  ❞  frame  turns,  standing  proud  and  tall,  fire  starts  in  his  eye  as  he  pushes  back.  ❝  who  is  to  say  he  will  wed  the  dagareon  girl,  what  makes  you  think  she  will  be  a  willing  sacrifice  in  this  marriage.  ❞

[trhowesteros]

❝  you  are  mistaken,  in  these  misguided  beliefs  of  yours.  however  they  may  confide  in  you,  they  are  simply  young  -  and  it  is  youthful  rebellion  that  has  them  fight  against  me.  ❞  placating  words  as  she  knots  her  hands  together  ahead  of  her.  her  children  stand  without  a  father  in  an  important  time  in  their  lives,  and  she  without  a  king  by  her  side.  it  is  distasteful  to  think  they'd  speak  such  lies  to  her  own  hand,  and  yet  he  confesses  so  easily  to  it. ❝  i  too  remember  what  it  was  to  lose  a  child  -  how  you  lose  a  very  piece  of  yourself  along  with  them  to  the  stranger.  though  mine  was  my  first,  to  lose  the  youngest  can  not  be  imagined.  i'm  sure  it  is  simply  that  grief  that  speaks  now,  for  otherwise  how  could  you  stand  at  my  side,  as  my  hand  -  and  utter  such  treasonous  thoughts  aloud.  ❞  byzantium  eyes  narrow,  pace  slowing  as  valyrian  queen  accesses  her  most  devoted  acolyte  with  suspicion. ❝  whatever  truths  these  rumours  may  hold,  the  boy  has  no  child  in  the  eyes  of  the  gods  - not  until  he  is  joined  under  the  seven.  not  until  he  weds  the  dagareon  girl.  ❞

his  teeth  grit  together  -  desmond  should  not  be  surprised  the  queen  does  not  falter  but  eventually  the  last  stone  will  fall  ⸺  dominoes  cascading  down  the  line.  ❝  a  shame,  truly.  we  try  so  hard  to  prevent  them  from  making  our  mistakes  thereby  punishing  ourselves  to  an  eternity  of  their  hatred.  it  hurts  does  it  not  when  they  hate  you  with  every  fibre  of  their  being.  ❞  head  shakes  briefly,  ❝  not  that  i  relate.  ❞  psyche  attuned  with  her  body  and  all  reactions,  the  city  could  go  up  in  flames  and  still  the  hand  would  be  too  lost  in  her  majesty,  seeking  out  the  moment  to  burn  it  all  to  the  ground.  ❝  your  oldest  confides  in  me,  in  his  weakest  moments  he  seeks  my  council  ⸺  he  beds  the  highborn  noble  daughters  and  refuses  to  wed  them.  ❞  casual  tone,  it  is  no  revelation  -  they  were  all  young  once.  ❝  your  grace,  why  wait  when  you  can  find  your  first  grandchild  in  the  quarters  of  house  royce  -  your  second  would  be  with  house  ...    ❞  intentional  pause,  hazel  optics  darkened  as  lips  purse.  ❝  yes,  house  dayne,  i  believe  though  i've  heard  rumors  that  little  alicent  targaryen  could've  been  fathered  by  him  too.  ❞

[trhowesteros]

❝  no,   you  know  better.  ❞    gentle warning  in  tone,   for  even  the  most  obediant  of  her  children  has  caused  her  grief,  in  past.  ❝  hmm,  perhaps.  we  shall  see  what  the  gods  provide.   though,   have  none  drawn  your  eye?  i  would  not  see  you  remain  alone.   ❞   for  how  it  tears  away  at  her,  to  have  lost  a  husband  twice  now  to  the  stranger.  it's  enough  to  see  her  scorn  love,  but  not  enough  for  her  to  withhold  from  her  children  the  blessed  act  of  matrimony.

❝ of   course  not,  mother.  ❞   the  answer to both questions was spoken with an uncharacteristic deference. dragon might puff out his chest and show off his wings in the face of mortals, but before the queen herself, more figure than mother, he knew his place.  ❝ i wouldn't dare disrespect your will. ❞   not so blatantly. his antics far lesser in light of recent upset. a ghost of a grin tugged at his lips.  ❝ though, i do hope the day i stand in the sept is far off. ❞

[trhowesteros]

❝ our  children  carry  the  best  and  worst  of  us,  i've  always  thought.  even  when  we  try  to  give  them  only  the  good.  ❞  there  is  a  catch  in  her  breath,  a  moment  of  pause  she  had  not  prepared  for  yet  her  pace  does  not  falter.  ❝  and i'm  sure  i  don't  know  what  you  mean,  lord  desmond  -  for  none  of  my  children  are  wed.  ❞  voice is sharper than before, regal disdain clear in each word. the  bastards  whispered  about  through  the  court,  claimed  to  hold  the  blood  of  her  sons'  within  them,  to be the very dragonseeds she so despises, are  no  grandchildren  of  her  own. rather, they  belong  to  misguided  women  who  wish  to  claim  power  for  their  own.  ❝  still,  i  look  forward  to  holding  my  first  grandchild  in  my  arms  -  within  the  year.  ❞

analytically,  like  clockwork,  he  eyes  her  with  all  energy  he  can  muster  these  days  -  one  day  he  will  feel  whole  again  when  the  color  of  crimson  no  longer  clouds  desmond's  judgements.  ❝  you  are  too  kind,  your  grace.  ❞  he  replies  and  pauses,  metallic  hits  his  tongue  with  the  taste  growing  stronger  -  teeth  stained  red  if  hand  opened  his  mouth.  ❝  indeed,  garlan  is  -  was  -  a  sweet  boy,  gullible  ...  ❞  he  leads  her  out  of  his  office,  handwritten  signature  still  fresh  on  the  paper  as  it  dries.  ❝  we  can  only  try  our  best  when  raising  our  children,  i  am  sure  you  can  relate  with  all  those  grandchildren  running  around.  ❞  it  leaves  oh  so  casually,  the  queen  knows  -  everyone  else  assumes,  the  dragonseeds  are  everywhere  all  at  once.  a  faint  smile  graces  tired  features  as  they  spot  servants  in  the  corridors  trying  to  hide.

[trhowesteros]

❝  indeed, we must.  ❞   a  prayer  is  sent,  in  silence,  to  the  seven  to  give  her  strength. for  it  was  his  own  child  who  had  committed  treason  against  the  crown  -  entering  into  grounds  long  forbidden  to  him  since  birth  by  her  own  order.  the  son  of  her  very  hand  turned  against  her,  yet  her  words  hold  none  of  this  divine  sent  anger  -  instead  compassion  as  a  mother.  ❝   my lord hand - you  can  be  sure  my  heart  weeps  for  your  loss  -  the  child  was  simply  caught  up  in  the  plans  of  another  who  coveted  what  would  not  be  his. a tragedy for us all.  ❞

all  curtains  closed  in  his  tower,  no  sparkling  sunlight  allowed  in  his  chambers  ⸺  it  mirrors  the  hand's  own  life,  youngest  child  stolen  from  desmond  too  early,  the  light  within  him  dims  too.  with  all  the  grace  he  can  minister  these  days,  the  ruling  lord  rowan  invited  the  queen  to  his  office  to  talk  —  and  walk  her  to  the  next  small  council  meeting  convened.  ink  spills  on  pages  as  quill  is  put  down,  optics  scan  his  penned  letter.  there  are  no  regrets  for  what  is  to  come.  disturbed  from  his  slivers  of  peace  by  the  queensguard's  voice,  announcing  her  royal  highness,  a  mother  like  silver  -  haired  lord  is  a  father.  ❝  your  grace,  i  believe  we  must  discuss  some  dire  matters.  ❞  always  to  the  point,  some  things  never  change.

[trhowesteros]

❝  do  not  raise  your  tone  on  me.  it  is  not  i  who  participated  in  this  production.  ❞ tone is harsh, yet no louder than before. for she needs not volume to express rage.   ❝  i  would  have  been  pleased  should  you  have  stayed  loyal  to  your  betrothed.  for  you  were  not  displeased  with  the  change  -  i  know  you  well  enough  to  know  this.  ❞  i  know  you  well  enough  to  know  when  you  lie,  goes  unsaid  -  for  how  their  tells  are  just  the  same.  dragonstone  is  all  she  once  was,  and  yet  -  she  fears  -  far  more  godless.  ❝  i  denied  the  rumours,  prayed  to  the  gods  they  were  not  true  -  and  yet  you  were  seen  with  your  new bride  on  several  occasions  without  escort.  what  am  i  to  believe  -  than  that  this  was  planned? so many rumours spilt from the lips of court - how can i know now which are lies?  ❞ nimble  fingers  tighten on  ornate  goblet,  her  cupbearer  only  steps  away flinching. she needs not stand, instead waves hand dismissively to the boy, ❝  leave us, i have no need of you.  ❞ rather, no need for more whispers to spill from the room. the haste in his exit has matriarch exhaling sharply before her focus returns to kin. ❝  you are not  your  grandfather,  no  -  you  are  too  alike  your  father.   ❞ a  romantic,  who  had  been  too  wide-eyed  to  see  reality.  their  courtship  had  been  short,  an  alliance  made  quickly  to  ensure  rhaena  grant  the  throne  an  heir  once  more  (  she'd  not  had  long  to  mourn  the  first,  and  she  thanks  the  gods  with  each  day  that  rhaeys  resembles  him  so  little  ).  yet  he'd  still  tried,  had  done  his  best  to  bring  a  smile  to  his  grieving  bride's  face  -  and  for  a  short  while  had  succeeded.  this  spark  of  his,  now  gone  to  the  stranger,  has  seemingly  found  itself  in  their  firstborn.  ❝  you  burn  too  brightly,  rhaeys.  i  fear  the  gods  will  only  bring  you, and us all,  misfortune  should  this  continue.  ❞

childhood   memories   flood   psyche,   little   princeling   cowering   in   fear   because   he   committed   grave   sin   -   if   only   he   knew   back   then   that   children   make   mistakes,   a   mere   boy   groomed   to   be   king   one   day.   tongue   darts   out   to   moisten   lips   as   noble   avoids   mother's   gaze,   "   an   explanation   for   what,   your   grace.   i   was   told   to   marry   the   daughter   of   essos'   emperor   and   i   delivered   on   that   promise.   "   from   all   his   little   rebellions,   this   one   was   wrecked   before   they   got   in   too   deep.   "   you   act   as   if   i   defied   the   gods   on   purpose   ⸻   i   expected   to   marry   my   betrothed   on   my   wedding   day,   i   did   not   expect   to   see   my   wife   there   in   her   place.   "   earnest   words,   rhaeys   had   asked   catraena   to   run   away   with   him   but   she   left   him   broken   in   her   silence   ⸺   he   honored   his   duty   -   fulfilled   his   pledge   and   showed   loyalty   to   his   sovereign.   "   my   actions,   mother   ?   "   his   voice   finally   rose,   but   byzantium   optics   -   inherited   from   the   woman   in   front   of   him   -   were   still   shielded   away   from   champagne   -   haired   royal.   "   i   did   what   was   best   for   our   house,   our   kingdom,   and   you   ⸻   should   i   have   stopped   the   ceremony   when   i   unveiled   the   princess   and   saw   she   was   not   my   betrothed,   would   that   have   pleased   you   ?   "   finally,   crown   prince   moves   muscular   frame   to   meet   her.   "   mother,   "   he   adds   belatedly,   as   if   he   were   a   child   trying   to   steal   her   attention   -   to   impress   her,   make   the   queen   love   him   even   if   he   was   not   the   son   she   lost.   "   the   vows   in   the   eye   of   our   gods   where   already   whispered,   it   could   not   have   been   undone.   i   am   not   my   grandfather,   i   will   not   risk   their   wrath.   "

[trhowesteros]

❝ i  was….shall  we  say,  curious,  as  to  what  you  might  have  to  say.  ❞ still, whatever  good  will  through  humour  younger  had  wished  to  draw  from  the  queen  fails, a tick in her jaw the only acknowledgement. ❝  though  not  enough  i  might  take  kindly  to  falsities.     ❞ so  often  surrounded  by  sycophants,  she  has  learned  to  read  honest  men  well  —  prayers  to  the  gods  aiding  in  her  search  for  the  truth  among  the  lies.  and  as  byzantium  optics  gaze  over  the  lord  rowan,  she  stands  conflicted.  ❝  hmm,  tell  me  -  do  you  not  mourn  your  brother,  lord  willas?   ❞  a  small  token  of  good  will,  the  words  of  a  mother  rather  than  queen,  as  she  looks  to  the  boy.  the  same  age  as  her  own  sons,  yet  she  lacks  the  same  care.  ❝  your  lord  father  has  seen  to  tear  at  the  strings  that  bind  our  houses,  all  through  grief.  and  yet  you  would  undo  his  work?   ❞

⟣ ─ ˑ 〃 ۫ 🪽 ❛ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐣𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲 — ❜ the heir to goldengrove bows before the dragon queen : beautiful as always , yet undoubtedly marred with the affairs transpired in the capital as of the last fortnight . painfully aware of darkened lilac gaze upon him : calculating . the bow is graceful , and evidently well practiced . . . if a little stiff . ❛ i must thank you for granting me this audience . ❜ sapphires raise to meet her amethysts . ❛ truth be told , my queen , i often wonder that myself . . . and find myself agreeing on the latter . ❜ a gentle curve of the lip accompanies the tone of slight jest : one at the expense of himself . ❛ a fool : one that failed to notice his lord father so . . . beside himself in his grief . . . ❜ smile wanes as gaze is cast down : remorseful . for this grief - stricken lunatic his lord father is most definitely not , but willas paints the narrative of is easier to process than to believe that he had willingly incited the wrath of the crown onto house rowan , and single handedly dismantled everything house rowan had worked for for years . ❛ i am here to apologize , your majesty . ❜ tone is sincere , and ocean blues lift once more . ❛ as heir and representative of house rowan , i assure you , my queen , that i have every intention to continue the long standing amity between your house , and mine . ❜