#Asogfabb

[rideroftheredqueen]

Mending Family Ties

Encountering Floris in the library had made Rhaenys realise that her Baratheon cousins were all at The Red Keep. It had been embarrassing not being able to recognize Floris, but it had been years since she had seen her cousin, formative years for the young woman.

Recognizing Maris was somehow easier. The clever storm, wasn’t that how her own mother referred to Maris? It had not been easy to realise just how close her own mother was with her younger cousins when their own relationship was still strained.

“Maris?” Rhaenys called out as she spotted her cousin near the dining hall. “Sorry,” she added as she finally caught up to Maris, now slightly out of breath and rubbing her side. These last few days she had begun to get stitches at the slightest of movement. Calm little hippocamp, please. Muña will remember to move slower, promise.

“I heard Floris and Lady Jocelyn arrived. And that you arrived with Princess Rhaenya. It took me an embarrassing amount of time, to realise that I would have a chance to catch up with all my Baratheon cousins during this royal wedding.” She said with an easy smile. “Though, Floris didn’t seem too pleased to run into me,” she added with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

“Mother – Lady Jocelyn – tells me you’re quite studious? Which languages are you capable of reading? If you don’t mind my curiosity?” Rhaenys asked, she had always loved languages, especially High Valyrian and had been fortunate enough to find a husband who shared her love of languages, though he had never quite mastered High Valyrian. “And I was wondering whether you might share Princess Rhaenya’s fondness of lemon cakes?”

A starter for @thecleverestorm

[ladyregentclarice]

What is Said Behind Closed Doors

Part of @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood

~ Starter for @black-queen-rising ~

The Red Keep is a terrifying maze of staircases and passageways that would likely take Clarice a good amount of time to come to understand and be able to navigate herself. Though she wished that she would ever remain in such a place long enough to do so, Clarice knew that as her sons regent, if he had need to be in Kings Landing and its Red Keep, then so should she.

Her gaze focused on the attendant before her, guiding them through the labyrinth that was the Red Keep to the Tower of the Hand, to where Princess Rhaenyra claimed as her domain as her father’s Hand. Up the many steps they went, her hold on her son tightening as she felt his small, chubby fingers tighten in the fabric of her dress.

Silently, she thanked the Seven in learning something of the delicately and subtlety of politics, and had seen to it that they weren’t gowned in green nor black for this meeting. Instead, they had taken inspiration from the city and the Red Keep itself, in dressing in red. That deep scarlet of blood, of health and prosperity and conquest and tradition. It suffused every building save few, Clarice noted before when the Tyrell envoy entered the walls of the city. Red was traced on doors, on gables, eaves, and walls.

Lyonel, whose wardrobe contained a majority of greens and golds and rich browns, had been uncaring in the additional color in his wardrobe as one would expect from a two year old. Clarice had ensured that their attire was heavily embroidered with flowers, especially the golden roses of House Tyrell, though she had ensured other florals were added to ensure none mistook them from Lannisters. Her hair had been braided coronet that’s interwoven with a velvet ribbon, though how odd it felt to be about without a veil as she has worn since Lorence died.

She feels the slightest of touches on her back, of Jon ensuring her steadiness of foot while holding their little lord. He and Roger, who was tending to his lady wife, had been her lifeline these past two years in ensuring that her son remained safe. In ensuring that peace and order was the law of the land in the Reach. To give the Targaryens no further cause to cast their sights towards Highgarden, or give their kin in Oldtown the opportunity to further their hold on the region.

And now, set before the future of House Targaryen, it took everything she had to set her son - her only child - down before the Hand of the King and curtsied with her head bowed low as the Targaryen attendant announced who they were to Princess Rhaenyra. Silently thankful that Lyonel had remember what she had told him to do, in bowing politely and uttering a polite “Hallo, Princess.” Her heart filling with pride in her little sapling and bittersweetness that Lorence would never witness this.

“How may Highgarden serve the Realm, your Highness?” Clarice finally spoke, begging her voice to not break and for her hands to not sweat as she gazed into the eyes of a dragoness.

[lordhusband]

Adored by the Realm: Day 6

The Red Keep, King’s Landing, Westeros, 15th day of the 12th moon 129AC The sixth day of wedding celebrations: Adored by the Realm.

The Third Tourney

The sun already stood high in the sky when Corlys woke up. He reached out, only to find the rest of the bed empty, no sign of Rhaenys. Perplexed he sat up, rubbing his face. There had been too much good wine and later fine spirits during the wedding feast. The sun had peaked up over the horizon by the time he had gotten back to bed. Rhaenys had left the party earlier, urging him to stay and enjoy himself.

“Princess?” He called out and swung his legs out. The mason stones felt icy against his feet. There was no fire going in the fireplace. How late was it?

“The tourney is about to start, my lord,” his steward said upon entering with fresh clothes and a tray of food. “The Princess Rhaenys has gone down to look at the agricultural competitions.”

“When did she leave?” Corlys asked as he grabbed a roll and took a bite.

“She was up quite early. I believe she had breakfast with the children in the dining hall.”

Corlys raised his brows and took off his night shirt, letting his steward help him get dressed as he ate some food.

“There you are,” Rhaenys said with a smile as Corlys stepped into the royal loge. “Good morrow.”

“Good morrow, my princess,” Corlys said and greeted her with a tender kiss, stroking her cheek before he looked around and bowed his head to the rest of the people gathered in the royal loge. “Why didn’t you wake me when you left? How did you get down here?”

“Because you had barely slept, when I got up. The hippocamp woke me up early. And I rode down here in a carriage, I did not exert myself.”

Corlys nodded and reached out taking her hand, entwining their fingers as the final tourneys begun.

Their grandsons had fared well, Corlys knew Daemon had been training them. It was paying off. Especially young Joffrey showed great talent in the jousting, steering his horse with skilled ease.

As the final joust ended Corlys got up and reached out towards his wife.

“Won’t you escort Rhaenyra? I’d like a word with Daemon.” Corlys raised his brows at her but nodded.

Dining and Dancing in The Royal Gardens

After a much-needed rest Rhaenys shifted and peppered Corlys’ nose with kisses. “Wake up, lord husband. There’s another feast and more dancing to attend,” she whispered. Rhaenys slowly got out of bed, wincing as her stomach tightened once more. She closed her eyes and focussed on her breathing. This wasn’t real labour, that much she could tell. But real labour was getting closer by the day.  

Valaena helped her get dressed. Light fabrics that clung to her curves and a warmer shawl for when the sun set. There were rumours of fireworks, which Rhaenys was excited to see were true. She adored fireworks, but it was a rare treat, even for a princess.

Naturally Corlys finished getting ready before her, sitting beside her as Valaena began to twist her hair our of her face. “Tomorrow we can rest, the evening garden party will conclude the wedding celebrations.”

“And then we must plan the trip home. You and the hippocamp have been busy, you need rest more than I do.”

Rhaenys chuckled, catching Valaena’s eyes in the mirror. They both knew Corlys was still feeling the effects of last night’s spirits. “Yes, of course,” she said.

Corlys placed a new necklace around her neck.

“What’s this?”

“A Daenaera creation, princess.”

Rhaenys beamed as she got up and took Corlys’ arm.

“Stop…” Rhaenys said as they reached the bottom of the last flight of stairs. She turned enough to bury her head against Corlys’ shoulders, allowing the tears to fall against his clothes. Her back ached; her hips felt like they were dislocating at each step. She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but Corlys was patient and Rhaenys relaxed as his hand traced patterns against her back.

When they made it to the party, Rhaenys sat down after greeting the family. Curtsying Rhaenyra had almost caused her to fall over and make a scene. Corlys fussed over her as she sat, crouching beside her.

“Princess?”

“I’m fine. I just need to sit for a moment,” she whispered softly. “Maybe for the night,” she reasoned after a moment. “Now get up, people are staring.”

Corlys took a seat beside her and Rhaenys reached out and took his hand. They remained seated throughout the dinner, even though sitting only did little to ease the pain. The sun was still setting as Rhaenys leaned in and whispered. “Help me back to our rooms?”

Corlys nodded and rose. As she mentally readied herself to the painful walk back, Corlys made sure to say their good nights to the family, albeit earlier than expected.

Tears were streaming freely down her face, as Rhaenys reached the bed and sat down. Corlys moved swiftly around her, helping her undress and helped her lift her legs up on the bed so she could lay down.

“Don’t cry, my princess.” His words were warm and tender, easing the sadness she felt about missing out. “Look,” he said and gestured to the windows, “I believe we will be able to see the fireworks from here.”

“You’re too kind,” Rhaenys said softly.

As the sky darkened Rhaenys settled on her side with her head on Corlys’ chest. Her pain had eased, and they had coupled gently. Rhaenys hadn’t realised how much she had missed being that close to Corlys.

A loud bang caused them both to jerk, followed by chuckles as bright colours filled the night sky outside their window.

“Braavosi fireworks. Lord Greyjoy procured them, I’ve been told. “

“Darling Lord Dalton. You better watch out, lord husband, he’s quite the sailor.”

Honourable mention: @rogueprincedaemontarg, @black-queen-rising, @thedadkraken, @princejoffreyvelaryon, @littlevelaryon

[lordhusband]

Ex son-in-law, father of my beloved granddaughters Baela and Rhaena ♥️

Character Promo:

Daemon Targaryen - prince & wielder of dark sister

@rogueprincedaemontarg - Part of A Song of Golden Fire and Black Blood RP

The younger son of the late Prince Baelon and Princess Alyssa Targaryen, Daemon is 50 years old, a Prince of The Realm, and the second husband of Crown Princess Rhaenyra. After serving several stints as the Commander of the City Watch of King's Landing, Daemon now sits on the Small Council as the Master of War; a position far too concerned with bothering various Lords to send him updated rosters of their bannermen for his liking. He is the father of Lady Baela and Lady Rhaena by his second wife, Lady Laena Velaryon, as well as Princes Aegon "The Younger", Viserys "Vis", and Baelon, and Princesses Visenya and Aemma with Rhaenyra. Daemon is praised as a skilled fighter and dragon rider, doting husband, and good father, but it is often whispered he also has the tendency to be violent, stubborn, and unpredictable.

home - our plot - discord - wanted ads - message - q & a

[rideroftheredqueen]

Adored by the Realm: Day 6

The Red Keep, King’s Landing, Westeros, 15th day of the 12th moon 129AC The sixth day of wedding celebrations: Adored by the Realm.

The Third Tourney

The sun already stood high in the sky when Corlys woke up. He reached out, only to find the rest of the bed empty, no sign of Rhaenys. Perplexed he sat up, rubbing his face. There had been too much good wine and later fine spirits during the wedding feast. The sun had peaked up over the horizon by the time he had gotten back to bed. Rhaenys had left the party earlier, urging him to stay and enjoy himself.

“Princess?” He called out and swung his legs out. The mason stones felt icy against his feet. There was no fire going in the fireplace. How late was it?

“The tourney is about to start, my lord,” his steward said upon entering with fresh clothes and a tray of food. “The Princess Rhaenys has gone down to look at the agricultural competitions.”

“When did she leave?” Corlys asked as he grabbed a roll and took a bite.

“She was up quite early. I believe she had breakfast with the children in the dining hall.”

Corlys raised his brows and took off his night shirt, letting his steward help him get dressed as he ate some food.

“There you are,” Rhaenys said with a smile as Corlys stepped into the royal loge. “Good morrow.”

“Good morrow, my princess,” Corlys said and greeted her with a tender kiss, stroking her cheek before he looked around and bowed his head to the rest of the people gathered in the royal loge. “Why didn’t you wake me when you left? How did you get down here?”

“Because you had barely slept, when I got up. The hippocamp woke me up early. And I rode down here in a carriage, I did not exert myself.”

Corlys nodded and reached out taking her hand, entwining their fingers as the final tourneys begun.

Their grandsons had fared well, Corlys knew Daemon had been training them. It was paying off. Especially young Joffrey showed great talent in the jousting, steering his horse with skilled ease.

As the final joust ended Corlys got up and reached out towards his wife.

“Won’t you escort Rhaenyra? I’d like a word with Daemon.” Corlys raised his brows at her but nodded.

Dining and Dancing in The Royal Gardens

After a much-needed rest Rhaenys shifted and peppered Corlys’ nose with kisses. “Wake up, lord husband. There’s another feast and more dancing to attend,” she whispered. Rhaenys slowly got out of bed, wincing as her stomach tightened once more. She closed her eyes and focussed on her breathing. This wasn’t real labour, that much she could tell. But real labour was getting closer by the day.  

Valaena helped her get dressed. Light fabrics that clung to her curves and a warmer shawl for when the sun set. There were rumours of fireworks, which Rhaenys was excited to see were true. She adored fireworks, but it was a rare treat, even for a princess.

Naturally Corlys finished getting ready before her, sitting beside her as Valaena began to twist her hair our of her face. “Tomorrow we can rest, the evening garden party will conclude the wedding celebrations.”

“And then we must plan the trip home. You and the hippocamp have been busy, you need rest more than I do.”

Rhaenys chuckled, catching Valaena’s eyes in the mirror. They both knew Corlys was still feeling the effects of last night’s spirits. “Yes, of course,” she said.

Corlys placed a new necklace around her neck.

“What’s this?”

“A Daenaera creation, princess.”

Rhaenys beamed as she got up and took Corlys’ arm.

“Stop…” Rhaenys said as they reached the bottom of the last flight of stairs. She turned enough to bury her head against Corlys’ shoulders, allowing the tears to fall against his clothes. Her back ached; her hips felt like they were dislocating at each step. She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but Corlys was patient and Rhaenys relaxed as his hand traced patterns against her back.

When they made it to the party, Rhaenys sat down after greeting the family. Curtsying Rhaenyra had almost caused her to fall over and make a scene. Corlys fussed over her as she sat, crouching beside her.

“Princess?”

“I’m fine. I just need to sit for a moment,” she whispered softly. “Maybe for the night,” she reasoned after a moment. “Now get up, people are staring.”

Corlys took a seat beside her and Rhaenys reached out and took his hand. They remained seated throughout the dinner, even though sitting only did little to ease the pain. The sun was still setting as Rhaenys leaned in and whispered. “Help me back to our rooms?”

Corlys nodded and rose. As she mentally readied herself to the painful walk back, Corlys made sure to say their good nights to the family, albeit earlier than expected.

Tears were streaming freely down her face, as Rhaenys reached the bed and sat down. Corlys moved swiftly around her, helping her undress and helped her lift her legs up on the bed so she could lay down.

“Don’t cry, my princess.” His words were warm and tender, easing the sadness she felt about missing out. “Look,” he said and gestured to the windows, “I believe we will be able to see the fireworks from here.”

“You’re too kind,” Rhaenys said softly.

As the sky darkened Rhaenys settled on her side with her head on Corlys’ chest. Her pain had eased, and they had coupled gently. Rhaenys hadn’t realised how much she had missed being that close to Corlys.

A loud bang caused them both to jerk, followed by chuckles as bright colours filled the night sky outside their window.

“Braavosi fireworks. Lord Greyjoy procured them, I’ve been told. “

“Darling Lord Dalton. You better watch out, lord husband, he’s quite the sailor.”

Honourable mention: @rogueprincedaemontarg, @black-queen-rising, @thedadkraken, @princejoffreyvelaryon, @littlevelaryon

[lordhusband]

Adored by the Realm: Day 1

The Red Keep, King’s Landing, Westeros, 10th day of the 12th moon 129AC Crown Prince Jacaerys’ 21st name day, the last day of Mother’s Day Celebrations, the first day of wedding celebrations: Adored by the Realm.

Mother’s Day Celebration

“Next Mother’s Day Celebrations we will have an almost one-year-old,” Corlys said as he pressed a tender kiss to Rhaenys’ bump. The weeks spent in King’s Landing had been good for them. He could tell Rhaenys was soothed by the presence of family and though she was still visibly uncomfortable most of the time, her smiles came easier and seemed more sincere.

The Mother’s Day Celebrations had been a challenging celebration for years. Corlys wondered how Rhaenys had fared in the early years after losing both their children. Even as he returned to her, the Mother’s Day Celebrations had been sombre and quiet. He had watched Rhaenys put on a brave face, celebrating with Rhaenyra and the grandchildren, but he had also seen her tears once they were alone, heard her sobs when she thought no one would hear her. It had gotten better each year, fewer tears and softer smiles.

Corlys leaned up and kissed Rhaenys’ lips, before he procured a present from his pocket and placed it in her hand. “It’s just a small thing,” he said as she sat back on the bed and watched her unwrap the present.

“Corlys…” Rhaenys’ eyes brightened, her smile widening as Corlys watched her pull out the string of blue-toned pearls. “These are incredibly rare; how did you get so many of them?”

“There are one-and-twenty of them. I’ve been collecting them since Jacaerys’ birth, with the intention of gifting them to you on the day he came of age.” Corlys explained with ease. Rhaenys’ look of disbelief had him chuckle and he leaned in, kissing her again. “I wasn’t sure what sort of jewellery I should have them incorporated into, so I’ll let you help design something special.”

“Thank you Corlys. They are beautiful, I’m sure we can come up with something special,” Rhaenys said with a bright smile.

“Are you ready for the parade?” Corlys asked as he got up and extended his hand to Rhaenys. As she took it, he helped her stand.

Grand Royal Parade

Corlys helped her into the carriage and Rhaenys shifted the pillow behind her, so they would provide the support she needed. Corlys seated himself beside her and made sure that her legs were covered with warm blankets.

“Thank you,” Rhaenys said as she leaned back, just in time for their carriage to take off. Rhaenys saw many familiar faces in the crowd, she waved and smiled, just as her mother had once taught her. Some she had known since her own childhood, walking through King’s Landing with her muñazma, sitting with her muñazma listening to the women of King’s Landing – or rather all of Westeros – coming to her, bringing their concerns to Women’s Court. Her muñazma had raised her to rule, knowledge she had since passed onto Rhaenyra, but also used as the Mistress of Driftmark.

There were young faces in the crowd, children making their way to the front to see the royal family in their regalia. The first event of the wedding celebrations. Rhaenys was equal measures of nervous and excited. Her and Corlys had chosen black and gold for their outfits tonight, reminiscent of the robes they had worn at Rhaenyra and Laenor’s opening feast.

Corlys’ hand found her thigh as they paused by the Sept. Rhaenys nodded encouragingly. “Go, put in our donations and then return to me, I’ll be fine,” she said with a smile. She couldn’t help but to grin as Corlys kissed her, before he stepped down and walked towards the Sept with most of the royal family.

“Princess?”

Rhaenys turned to the other side, smiling as she spotted a very familiar face. “Violet!” Rhaenys had met Violet when they were both young children. She had spent hours in Violet’s family’s candle making shop, which her muñazma had encouraged, believing building a good relationship with the small folk, was vital for a good ruler. “I haven’t seen you in … “

“It’s been years, Princess. Are you with child?”

Rhaenys waved the guards off, as she noticed them closing in on them. “Violet’s a friend,” she said, before returning her attention to Violet. She took Violet’s outstretched hand and pressed it against her bump. “I am. And I am due within this moon.” She said with a grin.

“But this wedding is for your grandchildren, yes?”

“Oh, don’t remind me,” Rhaenys chided playfully. “Do you still prove candles to the Sept?”

“No, they picked another vendor when my father died. I took over but…”

“But they prefer to do their trades with a man,” Rhaenys reasoned easily. “What about the castle?”

“The Queen, back when she was hand of the King, renewed the agreement when I took over. So I have my hands full. My sons and their wives work with me. And my grandchildren. I have seven now.”

“I’ll make sure to come by soon, I want some of your candles at High Tide.”

“I’ll look forward to it, Princess.”

Rhaenys waved at her friend, just as Corlys’ return made the carriage sway.

“Who was that?”

“Violet, the candlemaker,” Rhaenys explained, wincing as the carriage set off again.

The Opening Feast

“Lord Corlys Velaryon, Master of Driftmark, Lord of the Tide and his wife The Princess Rhaenys, Mistress of Driftmark, Lady of the Tides. Grandparents of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon and Lady Baela Targaryen.”

Corlys kept one arm around Rhaenys’ waist, holding her hand with the other as he guided her down the stairs, entering the great hall in time for the opening feast. Light bounced off the gilded threads in their outfits and Corlys was proud to walk beside Rhaenys, who masked her pain and discomfort with practised ease.

As they reached the main table, Corlys bowed, as Rhaenys dipped into a respectful curtsy. Corlys felt her grip on his hand tightened and he was quick to help her up, before anyone would notice.

Being the grandparents of both bride and groom had given them some logistic challenges with the seating arrangement. Corlys walked with Rhaenys to the bride’s side and helped her to sit. He kissed her temple, before he seated himself at the groom’s side of the table.

As the meal concluded and the music began, Corlys and Rhaenys reunited on the dance floor. Normally they’d spent the night in the middle of the room, but tonight they stayed on the edge of the crowd, taking it slow. Any sound of people falling or raised voices made Rhaenys jump in his arms, memories of the son’s wedding causing old wounds to rise to the surface.

Long before the end of the night, Corlys and Rhaenys sought out Jacaerys and presented him with a Velaryon signet ring. “This was… This was Laenor’s,” Corlys explained quietly. “Or parts of it was. I found when we were looking for our formal robes. Laenor and Vaemond’s. I had them melted down and rings made for you, Lucerys and Joffrey. Something to remember your roots by when you become a Targaryen king.”

They made it back to their room, still able to hear the music from the feast. Corlys knelt down as he removed Rhaenys’ shoes and stockings. He moved swiftly removing her garments as tears ran down her face. “I’ll get the tincture for you,” he said as he helped her into her nightgown and kissed her forehead. “Valaena will help you take down your hair.” When Corlys returned Rhaenys was in bed, under the covers, but her bright eyes shone in the candlelight. “It’s a thick mixture,” he said as he brought the cup to her lips. She drank without question and when Corlys settled down beside her, she was already asleep. He reached out and stroked her bump gently, until he too drifted off to sleep.

Honourable mentioning: @notatargaryenbastard, @black-queen-rising, @moondancer-rp, @rideroftheredqueen

[rideroftheredqueen]

Adored by the Realm: Day 1

The Red Keep, King’s Landing, Westeros, 10th day of the 12th moon 129AC Crown Prince Jacaerys’ 21st name day, the last day of Mother’s Day Celebrations, the first day of wedding celebrations: Adored by the Realm.

Mother’s Day Celebration

“Next Mother’s Day Celebrations we will have an almost one-year-old,” Corlys said as he pressed a tender kiss to Rhaenys’ bump. The weeks spent in King’s Landing had been good for them. He could tell Rhaenys was soothed by the presence of family and though she was still visibly uncomfortable most of the time, her smiles came easier and seemed more sincere.

The Mother’s Day Celebrations had been a challenging celebration for years. Corlys wondered how Rhaenys had fared in the early years after losing both their children. Even as he returned to her, the Mother’s Day Celebrations had been sombre and quiet. He had watched Rhaenys put on a brave face, celebrating with Rhaenyra and the grandchildren, but he had also seen her tears once they were alone, heard her sobs when she thought no one would hear her. It had gotten better each year, fewer tears and softer smiles.

Corlys leaned up and kissed Rhaenys’ lips, before he procured a present from his pocket and placed it in her hand. “It’s just a small thing,” he said as she sat back on the bed and watched her unwrap the present.

“Corlys…” Rhaenys’ eyes brightened, her smile widening as Corlys watched her pull out the string of blue-toned pearls. “These are incredibly rare; how did you get so many of them?”

“There are one-and-twenty of them. I’ve been collecting them since Jacaerys’ birth, with the intention of gifting them to you on the day he came of age.” Corlys explained with ease. Rhaenys’ look of disbelief had him chuckle and he leaned in, kissing her again. “I wasn’t sure what sort of jewellery I should have them incorporated into, so I’ll let you help design something special.”

“Thank you Corlys. They are beautiful, I’m sure we can come up with something special,” Rhaenys said with a bright smile.

“Are you ready for the parade?” Corlys asked as he got up and extended his hand to Rhaenys. As she took it, he helped her stand.

Grand Royal Parade

Corlys helped her into the carriage and Rhaenys shifted the pillow behind her, so they would provide the support she needed. Corlys seated himself beside her and made sure that her legs were covered with warm blankets.

“Thank you,” Rhaenys said as she leaned back, just in time for their carriage to take off. Rhaenys saw many familiar faces in the crowd, she waved and smiled, just as her mother had once taught her. Some she had known since her own childhood, walking through King’s Landing with her muñazma, sitting with her muñazma listening to the women of King’s Landing – or rather all of Westeros – coming to her, bringing their concerns to Women’s Court. Her muñazma had raised her to rule, knowledge she had since passed onto Rhaenyra, but also used as the Mistress of Driftmark.

There were young faces in the crowd, children making their way to the front to see the royal family in their regalia. The first event of the wedding celebrations. Rhaenys was equal measures of nervous and excited. Her and Corlys had chosen black and gold for their outfits tonight, reminiscent of the robes they had worn at Rhaenyra and Laenor’s opening feast.

Corlys’ hand found her thigh as they paused by the Sept. Rhaenys nodded encouragingly. “Go, put in our donations and then return to me, I’ll be fine,” she said with a smile. She couldn’t help but to grin as Corlys kissed her, before he stepped down and walked towards the Sept with most of the royal family.

“Princess?”

Rhaenys turned to the other side, smiling as she spotted a very familiar face. “Violet!” Rhaenys had met Violet when they were both young children. She had spent hours in Violet’s family’s candle making shop, which her muñazma had encouraged, believing building a good relationship with the small folk, was vital for a good ruler. “I haven’t seen you in … “

“It’s been years, Princess. Are you with child?”

Rhaenys waved the guards off, as she noticed them closing in on them. “Violet’s a friend,” she said, before returning her attention to Violet. She took Violet’s outstretched hand and pressed it against her bump. “I am. And I am due within this moon.” She said with a grin.

“But this wedding is for your grandchildren, yes?”

“Oh, don’t remind me,” Rhaenys chided playfully. “Do you still prove candles to the Sept?”

“No, they picked another vendor when my father died. I took over but…”

“But they prefer to do their trades with a man,” Rhaenys reasoned easily. “What about the castle?”

“The Queen, back when she was hand of the King, renewed the agreement when I took over. So I have my hands full. My sons and their wives work with me. And my grandchildren. I have seven now.”

“I’ll make sure to come by soon, I want some of your candles at High Tide.”

“I’ll look forward to it, Princess.”

Rhaenys waved at her friend, just as Corlys’ return made the carriage sway.

“Who was that?”

“Violet, the candlemaker,” Rhaenys explained, wincing as the carriage set off again.

The Opening Feast

“Lord Corlys Velaryon, Master of Driftmark, Lord of the Tide and his wife The Princess Rhaenys, Mistress of Driftmark, Lady of the Tides. Grandparents of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon and Lady Baela Targaryen.”

Corlys kept one arm around Rhaenys’ waist, holding her hand with the other as he guided her down the stairs, entering the great hall in time for the opening feast. Light bounced off the gilded threads in their outfits and Corlys was proud to walk beside Rhaenys, who masked her pain and discomfort with practised ease.

As they reached the main table, Corlys bowed, as Rhaenys dipped into a respectful curtsy. Corlys felt her grip on his hand tightened and he was quick to help her up, before anyone would notice.

Being the grandparents of both bride and groom had given them some logistic challenges with the seating arrangement. Corlys walked with Rhaenys to the bride’s side and helped her to sit. He kissed her temple, before he seated himself at the groom’s side of the table.

As the meal concluded and the music began, Corlys and Rhaenys reunited on the dance floor. Normally they’d spent the night in the middle of the room, but tonight they stayed on the edge of the crowd, taking it slow. Any sound of people falling or raised voices made Rhaenys jump in his arms, memories of the son’s wedding causing old wounds to rise to the surface.

Long before the end of the night, Corlys and Rhaenys sought out Jacaerys and presented him with a Velaryon signet ring. “This was… This was Laenor’s,” Corlys explained quietly. “Or parts of it was. I found when we were looking for our formal robes. Laenor and Vaemond’s. I had them melted down and rings made for you, Lucerys and Joffrey. Something to remember your roots by when you become a Targaryen king.”

They made it back to their room, still able to hear the music from the feast. Corlys knelt down as he removed Rhaenys’ shoes and stockings. He moved swiftly removing her garments as tears ran down her face. “I’ll get the tincture for you,” he said as he helped her into her nightgown and kissed her forehead. “Valaena will help you take down your hair.” When Corlys returned Rhaenys was in bed, under the covers, but her bright eyes shone in the candlelight. “It’s a thick mixture,” he said as he brought the cup to her lips. She drank without question and when Corlys settled down beside her, she was already asleep. He reached out and stroked her bump gently, until he too drifted off to sleep.

Honourable mentioning: @notatargaryenbastard, @black-queen-rising, @moondancer-rp, @lordhusband

[lordhusband]

Prior to Queen Rhaenyra's Coronation Ball

“It should have been you,” Corlys said, moments after Rhaenys’ ladies closed the door behind them, leaving him alone with his wife. “The crown should be yours,” he repeated as he walked up to her. The look she sent him spoke volumes. It’s been thirty years. Let’s not do this today. “I know, I know,” he said and placed his hands upon her hips, smiling as her arms wound around his neck, her fingertips tickling the hairs on his neck.

He was dressed to perfection. Velaryon blues, soft pliable leather details. The decorative breastplate with the Velaryon hippocamp embossed. Even his belt buckle showed the Velaryon insignia. He had half expected Rhaenys to wear Targaryen colours; reds and blacks. Or black and gold as she had worn at Laenor and Rhaenyra’s wedding. But when she had asked him to bring a specific blue silk from High Tide he was proud to learn that she would be displaying Velaryon colours at the coronation ball.

“Will there be dancing tonight?” He asked, lips close to hers. He expected a yes but received only a peck and a smirk in return, before she pulled from him. “Come, Princess. Let’s celebrate our new Queen.”

Word count: 200

@black-queen-rising @rideroftheredqueen @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood

[ladyregentclarice]

Golden Rays, Golden Roses

(Closed starter for @aliandramartell-1)

She hadn’t expected an envoy from Dorne to be in attendance at court, let alone headed by its ruler.

The day was no different in King's Landing, even as the preparations of more arrivals came to be known to Clarice through the whisper of her maid as she ensured her mistress was readied for the day. Over the past few days, if not weeks more and more men and their families had arrived, with those of higher standing and rank staying within the Red Keep and those lower finding lodgings within the nicer sections of the city.

And while Clarice knew that the Targaryens had, apparently, ironed out who will be next to sit upon the iron throne, there was still a flutter of fear in her belly. Wondering if it was a mistake in being here, in bringing Lyonel here. Surely she should’ve had him stay within the safety of the walls of Highgarden, with Jon and Roger remaining there to protect him should anything happen to her. So that only she would be in harms way, should the dragons fight among themselves.

Even as she walked the halls, she feels their ogling gazes of the court.

She would not pretend to entertain the idea that she wasn’t pretty, for she knew her looks were agreeable. But it was not her looks that made them look, but her position as her sons regent. It was the power she possessed, ruling for her infant son over the fertile, powerful, and wealthy (though surely the Lannisters would argue who possessed the wealthiest region) Reach. It almost made her wish for her mourning veils again, to hide from their hungry gazes as she walked past them all, until she caught sight of some Dornish nobility, something she hadn’t expected to see at the court of the dragons given Dornes refusal to join the realm under Targaryen rule.

Princess Aliandra Nymeros Martell, or at least that is who Clarice presumed the elegant young woman whom the Dornish nobility circled like the moon circled the world, was a beautiful young woman. Regal, Clarice would say, with thick, dark hair and equally dark eyes from what Clarice could see. But what she couldn’t see is the why.

Why would they be here? Is Dorne seeking to merge with the rest of the realm? Are they to bend the knee to the Iron Throne? To King Viserys, or to his heir? Or was this their way of seeking out any weaknesses in which to strike against them all and bring chaos and death to the Stormlands and Reach borders?

She had to find out, for her poor nerves would not be able such uncertainty. Not with Lyonel here at court. Seven, she’ll even put him on a dragons back herself- with a dragonrider, maybe Prince Daeron or one of the young ladies who were dragonriders- if it meant keeping him safe.

“What a rare delight this is, to see Dorne represented so elegantly here at court.” If Lorence was alive, he would know the right words to say to this Dornish princess, but Clarice wasn’t him and was still learning the delicate nature of politics. However, she did know her courtesies and so when she approached the Dornish Princess she had smiled, and gave a bow. “An honor to meet you, Princess.”

[ladyregentclarice]

Challenge:

Write a scene (at least as long as the post requirement so 200+ words but it can be as long as you like) between your character(s) and any other character within the RP that is NOT currently written or playable! This can be between your character and someone else who is writable but hasn't been taken yet, between your character and an NPC because they're too young, or even a flashback between your character and someone not playable because they've died before where we currently are in the story's timeline!!

She visits him, with a bouquet of baby’s breath, sunflowers, and lavender before the sun even began to stretch its rays across the eastern sky. She comes alone, the only time she was these days, and silently she is thankful for the silent agreement to allow her this time with Lorence. Especially now that his statue had been completed, the likeness both a comfort and a knife in the heart as she placed the bouquet at its feet and gazed upward towards its face as she remembered the horror of that day.

“He is not in pain,” The maester tells her as they stand in the entrance of the tent, the air thick with the scent of sweat and horses and blood. “He has been given milk of the poppy to ease his pain, however…” Clarice could barely hear the man as he spoke of her husband, of the injuries done to his person that gave no hope of recovery. She feels as though she is in a daze, hardly aware of those around her or even the gentle press to cross the threshold into the pavilion that felt like a floral tomb.

And there, laid out as though already on his funeral bier, was Lorence.

She moves towards him slowly, with each step silently begging to be woken from this nightmare as she gazed down at her husband. His eyes were shut, his skin so pale he would’ve blended with the sheets if they weren’t so stained from his blood, his skull incised under his skin, as if his injuries was determined to devour him to his bones.

Clarice choked back tears, fighting furiously against them as she didn’t want him to see her like this. To see her disconsolate; he needed to take strength from her presence, know that she—

“Clarice.”

Immediately she is at his side, taking his hand that felt alarmingly cold to her touch. And in his eyes, red-rimmed, she saw fear. For he did not feel the pain of his injuries anymore, because of the drugs administered, but there was a deeper pain that caused that fear.

Lorence knew he was doomed.

His fingers dug into her flesh as he rasped at her to listen, weakly tugging at her until she leaned in, breathing in the fetid smell of blood and sweat and death.“You must listen to me. I must tell you…I…I failed you. I was a fool, and I have spoiled your happiness with my foolishness.”

“No, you haven’t. Don’t say such things.”

“Clarice.” His hand gripped her wrist, not hearing her refutes as he fought to speak. “Jon and Roger will be castellan and steward for ly-Lyonel, but you will be his regent. You must be his regent.” She must have looked as though she might pull away in disbelief, but icy grip held her in place and his face- By the Seven, his face! “You must work with them, to make Lyonel safe in his lordship. Promise me.” And with tear filled eyes, she promised, and Lorence sighed, fingers unraveling from her wrist, his body limp.

Clarice gazed up at the stone rendering of her husband, tired in a way that she felt in her very soul. It clung to her like a marriage cloak, a heavy weight of exhaustion from just trying to survive one day to the next. Whoever came up with the lie that time healed all wounds, Clarice wanted to scream at them for such a lie.

For time will not heal this wound.

[ladyjocelynbaratheon]

Jocelyn offered the young prince a kind smile. She remembered all too well how it felt to be a child in the capital. She had argued with her father, after he had sent her to live with her older half-siblings, the King and Queen, she wanted to go home. Home had always and would always be Storm’s End. Dragonstone had been a rightful contender to home while Aemon had been alive.

“Thank you. The journey here was hard, I can never quite make up my mind whether to travel by land or by sea to get here, both ways seem too uncomfortable in my opinion. I am here for the wedding and to catch up with family. The Red Keep provides well for its guests, I have no complaints.”

Jocelyn raised a curious brow. Had the boy really called Rhaenys his grandmother-aunt? What a silly title, but for the Targaryen dynasty it would often make sense. “Yes, I am to become a grandmother again, a blessing this late in life. Though also strange and two of my other grandchildren are to be wed. And I believe your mother, The Realms Delight, Our Queen is expecting twins, so there’s a fair chance your wish for another brother might be granted. Exciting times all around,” Jocelyn commented, though she truly found it embarrassing that her daughter and son-in-law were expecting a child this late in life. The sheer knowledge of the fact that they still coupled this far into their marriage was knowledge Jocelyn had not wanted.

She deliberately made no comment about the gender of her grandchild to be. Both Corlys and Rhaenys had been adamant that it would change nothing in the succession of Driftmark and Jocelyn had seen too many family members die in childbed, leaving the children without mothers. She worried too much about her daughter’s well-being, despite their, at times, strained relationship to truly be excited about the babe to come.

“May I ask which books and scrolls you’ve taken from the library?”

Of distant kin

starter with @ladyjocelynbaratheon

Viserys walked towards his chambers clutching several books he had bought from the library. Though the number of tomes in his grasp wasn't vast, their collective weight was considerable, weighing down his arms. Although despite their unwieldyness he was able to carry them, he wondered with a smirk if his recent squiring was to blame.

Just then one of the books on the top one with a dark blue cover toppled over, Viserys cursed under his breath as he bent down to begin to pick it up, but then the other books he was carrying fell over in quick succession as well. He sighed and kneeled down to pick up the fallen books, huffing in frustration and began to rearrange them like they were blocks and he was Baelon or Emma. 

"Damn it," he muttered as he tried to maintain his balance while gathering the books back up into his arms. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a woman leaning over the sunny balcony, and despite her not staying in King's Landing often, he still recognized her lady, Jocelyn Baratheon, the former wife of the pale prince Aemon and the mother of his grandmother Rhaenys.

Viserys paused in his tracks, his usual curiosity propelled him forward to greet her. He approached her with a mixture of eagerness and trepidation, unsure of how she might react to his greeting.

"Lady Jocelyn," he began, his voice faltering slightly "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

[lordhusband]

Adored by the Realm: Day 7

The Red Keep, King’s Landing, Westeros, 16th day of the 12th moon 129AC The seventh and final day of wedding celebrations: Adored by the Realm.

Garden Party

Corlys kept a close eye on Rhaenys as they made their way down to the final day of the wedding celebrations. He was glad to see that she seemed to be doing better than she had in days. He paused as she winched, but as she shook her head they carried on.

As the young royals quickly surrounded Rhaenys, Corlys took his leave to inspect their surroundings. Warm lights, fresh foods and a calm atmosphere. It seemed almost like any other family meal, though there was excitement in the air. Corlys didn’t know what the cause of the excitement was, but it felt good. The last party for a wedding tended to be a quiet affair, full of farewells families prepared to be apart again for a long time.

By chance he and Rhaenys were not seated together, princess Visenya had taken the seat meant for him. Corlys grinned and gave both princesses a kiss on the cheek, before he took the seat meant for the little princess.

Excitement seemed to grow as the sun set. Corlys found Rhaenys in the crowd and wrapped his arm around her waist. Only then did he understand the reason for the excitement. Prince Aemond proposing to Rhaena. Rhaenys was crying once more, luckily from happiness as she leaned against him.

Corlys noticed her stance changing and he shifted enough to look at her. However, Rhaenys was not looking at him, she was looking towards Rhaenyra and Daemon. Corlys followed her gaze, unsure what was happening. “Princess?” He asked as she seemed to relax again.

“My labour has begun. I’ve made arrangements for Daemon to fly me home on Caraxes. You are to follow by sea on The Sea Snake, quickly, but safely. I’ll be waiting for you by the Driftwood Throne. Don’t be late.”

Corlys could hardly keep up with the things that her words set into motion. Valaena brought down her things. Daemon left the party. Soon Corlys stood in the dragon pit, watching his wife and her cousin mount a dragon, preparing to take off without him. “Rhaenys…!”

“Hurry, Corlys.”

High Tide, Driftmark, Winter Solstice 21st day of the 12th moon 129 AC

Labouring by The Driftwood Throne

“Princess you should be in your chambers, in bed.”

Rhaenys remained quiet as the surge moved through her. She needed quietness around her. Kezmya’s constant talking at each surge was beginning to annoy her. She had done this twice before, and even though this pregnancy had been different, labour felt no different that it had when she was eight-and-ten or twenty. Even at six-and-fifty her body knew what to do. The surge came to an end and Rhaenys began walking around the Hall of Nines once more.

“No, I will remain here. Velaryons are born by The Driftwood Throne. Laena was born at Low Tide, Laenor was born right here. And for the love of The Seven, stop talking when a surge is happening or get out!” Rhaenys hissed as she turned to her lady-in-waiting and the acting Maester of Driftmark.

Kezmya had not experienced her pregnant or in labour before. Valaena Darklyn née Velaryon, Corlys’ cousin and one of her closest friends, had been there in the early stages of labour with Laena and Alyssa Penrose née Baratheon, her own cousin, had been there in the early stages of labour with Laenor. In the final stages it just been her and Corlys, as Rhaenys had wanted it.

It had been five days since she had left Corlys in King’s Landing at the final celebration of Jacaerys and Baela’s wedding. The waters were rough at this time of the year, but Rhaenys hoped he would make it in time. Her surges had been on an off for days, but since noon they had been increasingly regular and came more often.

“Princess you should be resting.”

“Kezmya, no.” Rhaenys said as she stood, rocking her hips from side to side to alleviate the ache that had been persistent for almost half a year now. Almost since the pregnancy was discovered. “That might be best from your experience. But I know how to do this. Once Corlys returns the babe will make its entrance to this world.”

“With Lord Corlys in the room?”

“Yes, Kezmya. With my lord husband holding me up, I will deliver this babe into the world by The Driftwood Throne. And only then I might need some aid. For now, I need your company and distraction, between the surges.”

“Kezmya, they’re asking for you down by the harbour, a young boy got a nasty cut. I will stay with the princess,” Alyssa said as she came through the spiral hallway entering the Hall of Nines. “Hello Princess, The Sea Snake has been spotted,” she said as she walked up to Rhaenys.

Rhaenys nodded, glad that Corlys’ ship had been spotted, and waited for Kezmya to leave. “Hello Alyssa. That is good news. The surges are coming close now.” Rhaenys sighed as Alyssa put her hands on her shoulders and pressed her thumbs against the tight muscles. “Oh…” Rhaenys gritted her teeth as another surge took over. She was thankful that Alyssa pulled back her hands but remained close. Close and quiet. It hurt more than the last one, and Rhaenys whimpered softly as it came to its end, leaving her panting. “How close was The Sea Snake?”

“Quite close.”

“Corlys!” Rhaenys turned as she heard her husband’s voice. They met in the middle of the room and Rhaenys leaned into his embrace, inhaling deeply, letting the scent of salt and sea calm her.

“I got you, Princess. Thank you Alyssa.”

“May The Seven bless you, cousins.”

“Corlys…” Rhaenys said as another surge came on.  She turned in Corlys’ arms and leaned against him, as his palms came to rest on her swollen stomach, lifting it gently. Rhaenys smiled slightly as she breathed through the pain.

“Did your waters break yet?” Corlys asked as the surge came to an end, but he didn’t let go. Rhaenys had told him many times, that when he lifted like this, it relieved much of the pain. He had done the same when she had laboured with Laena and Laenor.

Rhaenys shook her head slightly, before leaning her head back against his shoulder. “Not yet.”

Soon the surges became almost unbearable and Rhaenys whimpered in pain, leaning heavily against her husband. “Daor….” She hissed, digging her fingers into Corlys’ clothes.

When her waters broke there was a moment of relief and Rhaenys lessened her hold on Corlys’ clothes.

“The babe will be here soon,” Corlys said running his hand gently over Rhaenys’ stomach, lifting her long petticoat up little by little. Rhaenys was thankful for the help of getting out of the sweaty and now wet clothes. She followed Corlys as he guided her closer to The Driftwood Throne. “Both Laena and Laenor was born at the break of dawn, this little one might be born in the dark of the darkest night of the year.”

Rhaenys smiled softly. Corlys was right. She could feel the shift inside. The babe would be there soon. “Can you do this?” She asked quietly. Corlys was hardly young anymore, often needing a cane nowadays.

“Of course I can.” He reassured her and wrapped his arms around her from behind once more. “Planning to set a record about the length of your labour?” He teased her lovingly and placed a kiss against her temple.

“Only if by record you mean the fastest and I believe that’s already been too late,” Rhaenys said softly and placed her hands over Corlys’. “I want this pregnancy to be over. I want to feel like myself again, ride my dragon and my lord husband. I want the ache to lessen and be able to move without pain.”

Five strong urges later and Rhaenys brought forth her and Corlys’ third child. She lifted the babe into her arms and cleared its nose gently, causing the little one to cry out. Cheers of joy could be heard outside the Hall of Nines and Rhaenys turned to her husband. “We have a daughter.”

After the afterbirth had been delivered, Rhaenys indulged in a quick hot bath, before putting on a clean nightgown. Once settled in bed, Corlys eased the girl into her arms and Rhaenys gently helped the babe to latch on to her nipple. “You can go and send the announcement now, lord husband.” Rhaenys returned the kiss, Corlys gave her, smiling happily as she watched his proud smile. Ravens were sent to Kings Landing, Dragon Stone and Storm’s End, ensuring their family would know their child had made it safely into the world.

It is with the greatest pleasure; I can inform you that The Princess Rhaenys has given birth tonight on Winter Solstice. A daughter called Alysanne Rhaenyra Targaryen Velaryon. We call her “Nyssie”. We are looking forward to introducing her to you. Lord Corlys Velaryon of Driftmark.

Honourable mention: @aemond-one-eyed, @rhaenaspearls, @rogueprincedaemontarg, @black-queen-rising

[rideroftheredqueen]

Adored by the Realm: Day 7

The Red Keep, King’s Landing, Westeros, 16th day of the 12th moon 129AC The seventh and final day of wedding celebrations: Adored by the Realm.

Garden Party

Corlys kept a close eye on Rhaenys as they made their way down to the final day of the wedding celebrations. He was glad to see that she seemed to be doing better than she had in days. He paused as she winched, but as she shook her head they carried on.

As the young royals quickly surrounded Rhaenys, Corlys took his leave to inspect their surroundings. Warm lights, fresh foods and a calm atmosphere. It seemed almost like any other family meal, though there was excitement in the air. Corlys didn’t know what the cause of the excitement was, but it felt good. The last party for a wedding tended to be a quiet affair, full of farewells families prepared to be apart again for a long time.

By chance he and Rhaenys were not seated together, princess Visenya had taken the seat meant for him. Corlys grinned and gave both princesses a kiss on the cheek, before he took the seat meant for the little princess.

Excitement seemed to grow as the sun set. Corlys found Rhaenys in the crowd and wrapped his arm around her waist. Only then did he understand the reason for the excitement. Prince Aemond proposing to Rhaena. Rhaenys was crying once more, luckily from happiness as she leaned against him.

Corlys noticed her stance changing and he shifted enough to look at her. However, Rhaenys was not looking at him, she was looking towards Rhaenyra and Daemon. Corlys followed her gaze, unsure what was happening. “Princess?” He asked as she seemed to relax again.

“My labour has begun. I’ve made arrangements for Daemon to fly me home on Caraxes. You are to follow by sea on The Sea Snake, quickly, but safely. I’ll be waiting for you by the Driftwood Throne. Don’t be late.”

Corlys could hardly keep up with the things that her words set into motion. Valaena brought down her things. Daemon left the party. Soon Corlys stood in the dragon pit, watching his wife and her cousin mount a dragon, preparing to take off without him. “Rhaenys…!”

“Hurry, Corlys.”

High Tide, Driftmark, Winter Solstice 21st day of the 12th moon 129 AC

Labouring by The Driftwood Throne

“Princess you should be in your chambers, in bed.”

Rhaenys remained quiet as the surge moved through her. She needed quietness around her. Kezmya’s constant talking at each surge was beginning to annoy her. She had done this twice before, and even though this pregnancy had been different, labour felt no different that it had when she was eight-and-ten or twenty. Even at six-and-fifty her body knew what to do.

The surge came to an end and Rhaenys began walking around the Hall of Nines once more. “No, I will remain here. Velaryons are born by The Driftwood Throne. Laena was born at Low Tide, Laenor was born right here. And for the love of The Seven, stop talking when a surge is happening or get out!” Rhaenys hissed as she turned to her lady-in-waiting and the acting Maester of Driftmark. Kezmya had not experienced her pregnant or in labour before. Valaena Darklyn née Velaryon, Corlys’ cousin and one of her closest friends, had been there in the early stages of labour with Laena and Alyssa Penrose née Baratheon, her own cousin, had been there in the early stages of labour with Laenor. In the final stages it just been her and Corlys, as Rhaenys had wanted it.

It had been five days since she had left Corlys in King’s Landing at the final celebration of Jacaerys and Baela’s wedding. The waters were rough at this time of the year, but Rhaenys hoped he would make it in time. Her surges had been on an off for days, but since noon they had been increasingly regular and came more often.

“Princess you should be resting.”

“Kezmya, no.” Rhaenys said as she stood, rocking her hips from side to side to alleviate the ache that had been persistent for almost half a year now. Almost since the pregnancy was discovered. “That might be best from your experience. But I know how to do this. Once Corlys returns the babe will make its entrance to this world.”

“With Lord Corlys in the room?”

“Yes, Kezmya. With my lord husband holding me up, I will deliver this babe into the world by The Driftwood Throne. And only then I might need some aid. For now, I need your company and distraction, between the surges.”

“Kezmya, they’re asking for you down by the harbour, a young boy got a nasty cut. I will stay with the princess,” Alyssa said as she came through the spiral hallway entering the Hall of Nines. “Hello Princess, The Sea Snake has been spotted,” she said as she walked up to Rhaenys.

Rhaenys nodded, glad that Corlys’ ship had been spotted, and waited for Kezmya to leave. “Hello Valaena. That is good news. The surges are coming close now.” Rhaenys sighed as Alyssa put her hands on her shoulders and pressed her thumbs against the tight muscles. “Oh…”

Rhaenys gritted her teeth as another surge took over. She was thankful that Alyssa pulled back her hands but remained close. Close and quiet. It hurt more than the last one, and Rhaenys whimpered softly as it came to its end, leaving her panting. “How close was The Sea Snake?”

“Quite close.”

“Corlys!” Rhaenys turned as she heard her husband’s voice. They met in the middle of the room and Rhaenys leaned into his embrace, inhaling deeply, letting the scent of salt and sea calm her.

“I got you, Princess. Thank you Alyssa.”

“May The Seven bless you, cousins.”

“Corlys…” Rhaenys said as another surge came on.  She turned in Corlys’ arms and leaned against him, as his palms came to rest on her swollen stomach, lifting it gently. Rhaenys smiled slightly as she breathed through the pain.

“Did your waters break yet?” Corlys asked as the surge came to an end, but he didn’t let go. Rhaenys had told him many times, that when he lifted like this, it relieved much of the pain. He had done the same when she had laboured with Laena and Laenor.

Rhaenys shook her head slightly, before leaning her head back against his shoulder. “Not yet.”

Soon the surges became almost unbearable and Rhaenys whimpered in pain, leaning heavily against her husband. “Daor….” She hissed, digging her fingers into Corlys’ clothes. When her waters broke there was a moment of relief and Rhaenys lessened her hold on Corlys’ clothes.

“The babe will be here soon,” Corlys said running his hand gently over Rhaenys’ stomach, lifting her long petticoat up little by little. Rhaenys was thankful for the help of getting out of the sweaty and now wet clothes. She followed Corlys as he guided her closer to The Driftwood Throne. “Both Laena and Laenor was born at the break of dawn, this little one might be born in the dark of the darkest night of the year.”

Rhaenys smiled softly. Corlys was right. She could feel the shift inside. The babe would be there soon. “Can you do this?” She asked quietly. Corlys was hardly young anymore, often needing a cane nowadays.

“Of course I can.” He reassured her and wrapped his arms around her from behind once more. “Planning to set a record about the length of your labour?” He teased her lovingly and placed a kiss against her temple.

“Only if by record you mean the fastest and I believe that’s already been too late,” Rhaenys said softly and placed her hands over Corlys’. “I want this pregnancy to be over. I want to feel like myself again, ride my dragon and my lord husband. I want the ache to lessen and be able to move without pain.”

Five strong urges later and Rhaenys brought forth her and Corlys’ third child. She lifted the babe into her arms and cleared its nose gently, causing the little one to cry out.

Cheers of joy could be heard outside the Hall of Nines and Rhaenys turned to her husband. “We have a daughter.”

After the afterbirth had been delivered, Rhaenys indulged in a quick hot bath, before putting on a clean nightgown. Once settled in bed, Corlys eased the girl into her arms and Rhaenys gently helped the babe to latch on to her nipple. “You can go and send the announcement now, lord husband.”

Rhaenys returned the kiss, Corlys gave her, smiling happily as she watched his proud smile.

Ravens were sent to Kings Landing, Dragon Stone and Storm’s End, ensuring their family would know their child had made it safely into the world.

It is with the greatest pleasure; I can inform you that The Princess Rhaenys has given birth tonight on Winter Solstice. A daughter called Alysanne Rhaenyra Targaryen Velaryon. We call her “Nyssie”. We are looking forward to introducing her to you. Lord Corlys Velaryon of Driftmark.

Honourable mention: @aemond-one-eyed, @rhaenaspearls, @rogueprincedaemontarg, @black-queen-rising

[rideroftheredqueen]

Adored by the Realm: Day 5

The Red Keep, King’s Landing, Westeros, 14th day of the 12th moon 129AC The fifth day of wedding celebrations: Adored by the Realm.

The Wedding Ceremony

Corlys stood tall, representing the Velaryon family as vows were said in The Sept. Rhaenys was not by his side. He could barely see her from his place, but knew she stood representing Baela’s Targaryen heritage.

The Father – Clever Laenor ought to stand where he stood. He would have been so happy for Jacaerys and Baela. He would have loved the tourneys.

The Mother – Darling Laena ought to stand where Rhaenys stood. Glowing with pride at her daughter’s wedding vows.

The Maiden – Baela’s childhood was coming to an end with each passing vow. It felt final, Corlys found it strange that the little girl would truly be a woman.

The Crone – Corlys looked back towards his mother-in-law. How would he feel if he lived long enough to see great-grandchildren get married?

The Warrior – Jacaerys, the future of the realm. Laenor’s pride and joy, Corlys first born grandchild. He would forever hold a special place in his heart, even when he would no longer be Velaryon.

The Smith – Corlys smiled as Jacaerys placed the wedding robe over Baela’s shoulders. It had been made for his own wedding to Princess Rhaenys and truly displayed the close ties between the houses Targaryen and Velaryon.

The Stranger – Too many lives had been lost, people who ought to be here and celebrate with them. Corlys knew the future was unknown, but hoped and prayed that his grandchildren would experience fewer losses than his and their parents’ generations had.

Upon leaving the Sept Corlys reunited with his wife. She was a vision in sea blue and ocean green tulle, Velaryon colours, showing off her pregnancy proudly. She squeezed his hand tightly and he met her eyes. This time it wasn’t physical pain; this time she was emotional and Corlys could tell she had been fighting hard against the tears. Corlys leaned in close and whispered: “Now we get feast and dance.”

The Wedding Ball

The feast was magnificent. Perfection in every bite. The attention to detail made even the smallest gesture special and memorable. Rhaenys laughed and cried happily through the speeches, feeling at ease surrounded by family, sitting beside Corlys.

When the music began and Corlys asked her to dance, she accepted easily.

“How are you feeling, my princess?”

“Happy,” Rhaenys answered, before they followed the music. The song ended and Corlys bowed to her. Rhaenys nodded and watched as he went and asked Rhaenyra for the next dance. Rhaenys steered towards the edge of the dancefloor.

“Mumuña, can we dance?”

“Of course,” Rhaenys said delightedly as she took Princess Visenya’s hands and danced with her. After they danced, they took a seat on one of the settees, with a perfect view of the dancefloor. Visenya curled up against her side and Rhaenys smiled as her little hand stroked the curve of her belly tenderly. It was clear it was something The Little Princess had done before. Rhaenys lifted her eyes to see Corlys dance with the bride, darling brave Baela.

“It’s all right,” Rhaenys said as Visenya yawned. “Settle down, I’ll stay with you.”

“But I want to see when they leave for the bedding ceremony.”

“It’s not that interesting. They go through a door and the door is closed, while the rest of us continue to celebrate.” Rhaenys said soothingly as Visenya shifted and put her head in Rhaenys’ lap.

As Rhaenys watched Corlys dance with Daenaera, she traced patterns against Visenya’s shoulder and neck. She couldn’t help to be grateful on a day like this. Her family, united and celebrating the next generation. A grand wedding, which still felt like a family affair with all her favourite people.

“Muña, are you all right?” Rhaenyra asked as she paused by the settee. “I can have Nya …”

“… leave her be. I’ve got this,” Rhaenys said easily. “Dance, celebrate your children. Let me sit here and watch. I’m perfectly happy right here,” she added and waved her off.

Rhaena stopped by soon after, but Rhaenys waved her off too, only for Corlys to ask her for a dance. “Have fun,” Rhaenys urged happily.

Shortly before the bedding ceremony, Visenya was taken to bed. Rhaenys walked up to the bride and groom and gave them each a hug. “I’m so happy and proud of you,” she told them earnestly. “Laena and Laenor would be so proud,” she added before she pulled back.

Rhaenys stepped into Corlys’ arms and leaned against him, swaying gently to the music. “What do you think, will we be great-grandparents within the next year?”

“It’s possible,” Corlys replied with a chuckle against her ear.

Honourable mention: @black-queen-rising, @thelittleprincesstargaryen, @littlevelaryon, @moondancer-rp, @rhaenaspearls, @notatargaryenbastard, @lordhusband

[thelittleprincesstargaryen]

“Oh yeah, Mumuña loves Dragonstone. She grew up there,” Visenya said with a bright smile. “Meleys is not old. Vhagar is old and she’s flying with Aemond, right?” She added with a shrug. “I think it’s because of the babe, like Syrax won’t fly with muña, maybe Meleys won’t fly with mumuña because of her babe? I can’t wait for my dragon to be big enough to ride. Though I do love when Aemond offers me a ride on Vhagar, she’s so big and fierce.”

Visenya easily noticed her cousin’s uneasiness. “Jaehaera?” She questioned and sat up, turning to face her cousin. Visenya was used to being concerned about her, but now she was concerned about her cousin, her almost-twin. “Why not? Something wrong with your bed or the bed here? I’m sure we can find a solution to that. You can even come and share my bed!” She offered enthusiastically. “It’s big enough for two, I promise.”

Visenya shifted slightly and reached out, touching her cousin’s hand gently. “Or maybe the Maester can give you a tincture?” She suggested with a soft smile. “They’re not great tasting, but they help. Oh, and lavender balm on your feet and behind your ear, I have some in my room. And warm baths.”  

By the middle of the 11th moon, the Maesters gave up keeping Visenya inside. The outdoors with the warmth were too luring and Visenya had founds ways to make it outside, despite the Maesters’ warning. Nothing ill had come of it, while she was still on the mend after her long and serious bout of blood-tinged-phlegm of the lungs, she was no longer sick.

When Visenya learned that Jaehaera – and the other Targaryens of Dragonstone – were coming she was delighted. Jaehaera and herself were often compared, only with good things and they enjoyed each other’s company.

“Did you know that The Princess Rhaenys Targaryen is also staying at The Red Keep, at the moment?” Visenya asked. The stories of Aegon and his sister-wives always reminded her of her mumuña. She knew Rhaenys was not her grandmother, but she had asked her if she would allow her to use the title, after asking her muña about it. Both muña and The Princess Rhaenys had agreed. “But she didn’t fly here on Meleys, so I don’t know whether her dragon is in the pit…”

Visenya looked up at her cousin. “Are you well, Jaehaera?” She asked quietly. She knew the signs of sickness too well, but was unaccustomed to seeing them on anyone but her own reflection. And looking at Jaehaera reminded her of her reflection a fortnight ago.

[lordhusband]

Adored by the Realm: Day 5

The Red Keep, King’s Landing, Westeros, 14th day of the 12th moon 129AC The fifth day of wedding celebrations: Adored by the Realm.

The Wedding Ceremony

Corlys stood tall, representing the Velaryon family as vows were said in The Sept. Rhaenys was not by his side. He could barely see her from his place, but knew she stood representing Baela’s Targaryen heritage.

The Father – Clever Laenor ought to stand where he stood. He would have been so happy for Jacaerys and Baela. He would have loved the tourneys.

The Mother – Darling Laena ought to stand where Rhaenys stood. Glowing with pride at her daughter’s wedding vows.

The Maiden – Baela’s childhood was coming to an end with each passing vow. It felt final, Corlys found it strange that the little girl would truly be a woman.

The Crone – Corlys looked back towards his mother-in-law. How would he feel if he lived long enough to see great-grandchildren get married?

The Warrior – Jacaerys, the future of the realm. Laenor’s pride and joy, Corlys first born grandchild. He would forever hold a special place in his heart, even when he would no longer be Velaryon.

The Smith – Corlys smiled as Jacaerys placed the wedding robe over Baela’s shoulders. It had been made for his own wedding to Princess Rhaenys and truly displayed the close ties between the houses Targaryen and Velaryon.

The Stranger – Too many lives had been lost, people who ought to be here and celebrate with them. Corlys knew the future was unknown, but hoped and prayed that his grandchildren would experience fewer losses than his and their parents’ generations had.

Upon leaving the Sept Corlys reunited with his wife. She was a vision in sea blue and ocean green tulle, Velaryon colours, showing off her pregnancy proudly. She squeezed his hand tightly and he met her eyes. This time it wasn’t physical pain; this time she was emotional and Corlys could tell she had been fighting hard against the tears. Corlys leaned in close and whispered: “Now we get feast and dance.”

The Wedding Ball

The feast was magnificent. Perfection in every bite. The attention to detail made even the smallest gesture special and memorable. Rhaenys laughed and cried happily through the speeches, feeling at ease surrounded by family, sitting beside Corlys.

When the music began and Corlys asked her to dance, she accepted easily.

“How are you feeling, my princess?”

“Happy,” Rhaenys answered, before they followed the music. The song ended and Corlys bowed to her. Rhaenys nodded and watched as he went and asked Rhaenyra for the next dance. Rhaenys steered towards the edge of the dancefloor.

“Mumuña, can we dance?”

“Of course,” Rhaenys said delightedly as she took Princess Visenya’s hands and danced with her. After they danced, they took a seat on one of the settees, with a perfect view of the dancefloor. Visenya curled up against her side and Rhaenys smiled as her little hand stroked the curve of her belly tenderly. It was clear it was something The Little Princess had done before. Rhaenys lifted her eyes to see Corlys dance with the bride, darling brave Baela.

“It’s all right,” Rhaenys said as Visenya yawned. “Settle down, I’ll stay with you.”

“But I want to see when they leave for the bedding ceremony.”

“It’s not that interesting. They go through a door and the door is closed, while the rest of us continue to celebrate.” Rhaenys said soothingly as Visenya shifted and put her head in Rhaenys’ lap.

As Rhaenys watched Corlys dance with Daenaera, she traced patterns against Visenya’s shoulder and neck. She couldn’t help to be grateful on a day like this. Her family, united and celebrating the next generation. A grand wedding, which still felt like a family affair with all her favourite people.

“Muña, are you all right?” Rhaenyra asked as she paused by the settee. “I can have Nya …”

“… leave her be. I’ve got this,” Rhaenys said easily. “Dance, celebrate your children. Let me sit here and watch. I’m perfectly happy right here,” she added and waved her off.

Rhaena stopped by soon after, but Rhaenys waved her off too, only for Corlys to ask her for a dance. “Have fun,” Rhaenys urged happily.

Shortly before the bedding ceremony, Visenya was taken to bed. Rhaenys walked up to the bride and groom and gave them each a hug. “I’m so happy and proud of you,” she told them earnestly. “Laena and Laenor would be so proud,” she added before she pulled back.

Rhaenys stepped into Corlys’ arms and leaned against him, swaying gently to the music. “What do you think, will we be great-grandparents within the next year?”

“It’s possible,” Corlys replied with a chuckle against her ear.

Honourable mention: @black-queen-rising, @thelittleprincesstargaryen, @littlevelaryon, @moondancer-rp, @rhaenaspearls, @notatargaryenbastard, @rideroftheredqueen