#arc ii ⊱ WOMEN'S WICKED WAYS

[goldenclarice]

𝐀𝐑𝐂 𝐈𝐈: 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 → a summary of events during the timeskip

(featuring @sabithafrey-rp @daltongreyjoy-rp @sirenalannysgreyjoy @payapreciouspenny @princejoffreyvelaryon)

Queen Rhaenyra's reign has changed things vastly and Clarice's role as Lady Regent has not been spared from this dizzying shift, but she has not let herself be deterred. As one the of strongest voices against the the Iron Islands' ruling liege and their vassals convening in court, least of all to stake their interests in the the small council, Clarice had been all too perturbed at securing peace agreements between the two regions with the exchange a Tyrell son of noble birth, anointed with the seven oils and named in the rainbow of light, for a godless fledgling bastard of Pyke. However, after being presented to the newly legitimized Lady Penny Greyjoy by Lord Dalton Greyjoy and Alla Florent, Clarice knew as soon as she laid eyes upon her that she could welcome her into Highgarden and into her heart. "She will be a daughter to me," she had promised the fearsome Lord Dalton. "I did not know Penny as a seed in her mother's belly, or as a soft babe in the arms of the man who contributed to her conception. My new daughter has come to me already a girl, missing some but not all of her childhood teeth. I am glad to receive her into my halls and my homeland."

Lady Clarice was also glad to not enter into trade negotiations with the Iron Islands, even while she still ensured that the ironborn were to not raid and reave in the Reach any longer. Later on, she had received news of the trade negotiations between Dorne and the Iron Islands with a scoff. Part of the agreement had been to not call upon her southernmost vassals to intercept these ships, but Lady Clarice has been heard to say that she also stills her hand if only to see how long this ruse between these two faraway regions will last. However, it is Lord Jon Tyrell that had grown all the more discontented as time went on. In a manner that was always contemptuous, and always fruitless, Jon had gone into theatrical tirades in an attempt grasp for an offense that would match the one served to his honor and to his weakening image of Clarice. It is by Jon's spite and the harshest critics of the peace agreement negotiations that Lady Clarice's image does begin to sour, with many calling her a conniving woman that has betrayed the Tyrell's and made two innocent children the pawns to her ambitions. To assuage these sentiments, Clarice organized a tourney to celebrate the third name day of her son, Lyonel, and called upon knights and squires of the Reach of both noble and common birth to compete in martial games with the prizes not only being monetary, but also the guarantee of her patronage. In display of her beneficence, she would assure their reputation as knights financially (as patrons are also sponsors) and theoretically in connections to a noble house (championing for noble houses and wearing their colors). The fine selection of men who had won in the contests were glad to receive their Lady Regent's patronage rather than having been shipped away to some border garrison.

The next event that followed Lyonel's name day tourney was a welcoming ball in honor of Lady Penny. It was an evening with great fanfare where the honored guest became a beloved novelty, delighted over by all. Invitees arrived to witness Clarice's newly remade family, curious to get a look at the girl who had so spectacularly regaled a grand evening. As the days went on, Clarice filled her daughter's days with artists, educators and a septa so that they could engage her in topics of numbers, philosophy, religion, and the arts. It is from these innovators that Clarice hopes that Penny will learn her sensibilities so that she may lead a morally just and divinely inspired life. However, it seemed to Clarice that Lord Dalton always arrived to undo her work. His visits to Highgarden are unwelcome and consistent, but she withstands him for the sake of Penny even if she had allowed his entrance inside the castle a sparse few times. The presence of men and knights of strength double during Lord Dalton's visits to let him know that he is not trusted. Lady Alannys's presence is less welcome as well, but as she comes with Prince Joffrey on the dragon Tyraxes, more consideration is taken into making her visits more welcoming only while she remains in the presence of a Prince of the Realm. Still, among the maid servants of the castle it is known that Clarice has asked them to inconspicuously separated Lady Alannys and Prince Joffrey at times so that Lady Leila Rowan can beguile the prince instead. It is Lord Toron, Lord Dalton's heir, that has been ignored altogether. While he has not embarked to Highgarden, he has written plenty of letters to Clarice with requests to establish trading voyages at the Arbor. These letters have gone unanswered even if she shared weekly correspondence with his father where Lady Penny and Lord Henley's wellbeing are discussed, with some of these letters even including portraits of Lady Penny in the Myrish painting style and Lord Henley by Lord Dalton's unsteady hand.

Clarice's correspondence with Lady Sabitha of The Crossing was a different matter altogether. Clarice was not so unfamiliar with herself to not recognize that she might have grown infatuated during their initial meeting, and while they continued to socialize at the Red Keep, Clarice started to believe that she may have spun their friendship into something that couldn't and probably never will be. Still, Clarice was happy to receive Lady Sabitha's ravens and quickly grew enamored at her friend's poems that sent her heart racing. Clarice could be seen writing into the long hours of the night until one day she received word from Lady Sabitha that she was pregnant. It was an easy decision to brave a journey of hundreds of miles to the The Twins with Lyonel and a small retinue from Highgarden. Lord Roger Tyrell had petitioned for more important tasks as of late, and Clarice was all too happy to appoint him as castellan in the meantime while Lord Jon had grown distractible in his duties. It was at the Twins, where much attention had been paid to Lady Sabitha's wellbeing, that their passionate love affair began. None could be seen without the other thereafter, and while Clarice was seen entering the guest room during the nights and emerging from it in the mornings, the bed had always been neatly arranged from the day before and many of her items and smallclothes were found in Lady Sabitha's chambers. There was much talk about Clarice's unexplained animosity towards Lady Amarei Charlton and how quick she was to dismiss her at every turn, and on one occasion, these ill feelings had culminated into a heated argument between the two that no one but Lord Forrest had been able to qualm. Nevertheless, Clarice continued to visit the Twins as much as time allowed, with Lord Roger ever poised to prove himself as castellan in her absence.

[theredripper]

𝐀𝐑𝐂 𝐈𝐈: 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒

→ a one-shot during the timeskip ( 1 / 2 )

“My lady, do not go in there yet if you can help it,” the quartermaster of the Cursed Emerald warns, fresh from the doorframe of her captain’s quarters. Her skin is blanched and her eyes are wide as though Toron had drained her of her lifeblood, and Rohanne wonders how hot her son’s blood runs tonight. “He has been in a foul mood since his return on the midday, throwing things about and such. He refuses us all. Perhaps if —”

“Malwine.” Rohanne’s tone issues the quartermaster a warning of her own, the corner of her mouth and jaw set firm as she strides unflinchingly into the headwind of Toron's destruction. She does not hesitate when she turns the secret key she had cut of his quarters into the keyhole, but what she finds is ghastly to her all senses. The scent of her son’s blood comes as black smoke in an already dark room, and as she continues her macabre walk to the edge of his bed, she listens on to the sound of his wheezing as he lays flat on his back, his chest rising and falling slowly with great pain. She considers the bowl of honey and flagon of wine at his bedside and the iron poker in the hearth of a growing fire.

“I know you have traveled far and from great travail,” she announces herself with a grim, iron tone. Her hand ghosts above his swollen eye with morbid care.

Toron makes no note of her presence, one eye staring emptily to the grain of wood above him. His wounds no longer weep with fresh blood but they are open and sensitive all the same, his face and torso lined in a mass of blue and green bruises. Sweat drips from his body and his skin is sickly pale and sallow. Despite being the clear victor here, he looks displeased, agitated, dark. Rohanne watches him strangely for a protracted moment before she rips his shirt open in one brusque movement. “I will make the repairs,” she decides, sparing no moments indecision. “You’re burning and you smell sweet with sickness. Only the dying burn.”

“I’m dying. Let me have my last moments to myself.”

“Stupid boy.” His mother's breath shakes in agitation, straining into his shoulder as she heaves him forward into a sitting position. She sits beside him and soaks his blood, fever and sickness on a wet sea sponge in preparation for the wine she pours onto his face and torso into a long cascade that soaks into the sheets under them. She trickles clean water into his lips. “There is life in you yet.” Her finger brushes against the broken skin of his nose in reminder of the many things he has inherited from his father. A reminder of where he is needed. Toron winces in pain. “There is use for you still.”

Toron slowly turns his closed, inflamed black eye in her direction. “Give father what he requires and leave.” At this, Rohanne chuckles to herself while she mixes honey in the bowl and dresses it onto his wounds, covering them with strips of linen. When she is done, she walks to the fireplace and pulls the iron rod from the fire.

"A stupid child who does not know what he says. You belong to him,” she notes offhandedly as she advances towards Toron with the red-hot iron in hand, making light issue of Dalton’s claiming of his son and how it had always been more important than any blood that she and Toron shared. “His firstborn son.” Her eyes steady onto him with a severity that had always demanded for more. “You will not deny him.” In a quick motion she pressed the flat side of the hot iron against a piece of linen, his skin sizzling with the heat and pain of his skin being mended together by fire. Toron cries out in pain and shock at her violence, seizing him with a sensation that sends him into a fit of maniacal laughter. “So you must live and make yourself right by your father.” Rohanne commands him above the sounds of his delirium, driving the hot iron into each wound one by one until he is made anew. There’s a stirring in him, a harshness, a rush of blood to his face that comes under her abrasive preening. Rohanne has dressed him in clean clothes and pressed him against her hip, one arm around his waist and another holding the loot of The Black Crane as she leads Dalton's unsteady son into the darkness of the night and onto the deck of The Raven. When they come upon Lysa, Rohanne addresses her with a smug, self-satisfied smile as she wields Toron's name in vainglory:

"Tell my lord that his son and heir has returned from high sea and wishes to see him at once."

[asongofgoldenfireandblackblood]

Coming soon on A Song of Golden Fire and Black Blood

Half a year after the coronation of Westeros' first Ruling-Queen...

Court has been called back to session in King's Landing to celebrate the wedding of Crown Prince Jacaerys and his future Queen, Princess Baela. To celebrate the occasion Queen Rhaenyra and Princess Baela have put enormous efforts over the past six moons to revive Good Queen Alysanne's "Women's Court" proceedings, and host the first of a new era where they are as frequent as they are highly regarded, lending the Crown's often overwhelmed ear to women of every strata and station so the voices of those that ground and uphold their kingdom may be given their proper due. Meanwhile, Lords from across Westeros and all the Seven Kingdoms, have found the revival to be their greatest evidence yet that Rhaenyra has far overstepped the position she ultimately holds by their good grace: To favor a sister over a brother because the King's word is law, and Lords must remain firm in their right to name their own heirs, is one thing, for that woman to ascend without seeming to spare any mind towards the precedent they have overlooked and privileges they have granted her is another entirely. Whispered judgements and quiet dissatisfaction are growing into the rumblings of a war headed by Lords who were once Kings in their own right and backed by the Faith many have begun to believe their Dragon Kings, and Queen, have forgotten holds this Realm together in ways even the beasts they're bonded to who bring them close and closer to divinity never will. As the days dwindle to her first child's marriage, and the final assertion of the last two decades she's spent continuously cementing Jacaerys oft-speculated, but never outright contestable, claim Rhaenyra is eight moons pregnant with twins, faced with her first true challenge as a ruler, and to maintain the hard-earned peace of two acclaimed Kings, will have to put not only the future of her reign but her faith in those she once considered her greatest threat and rely on the council and support of her Prince Half-Brothers and The Dowager Queen to ensure The Realm does not spiral into a civil war fueled by grudges and led by forces much greater and more powerful than any conflict that may once have been capable of dividing The Realm into Black and Green. House Targaryen must reforge old ties and relearn what it means to be not just one House but one family, it is no longer a matter of success, or stability, but of their very survival.

Arc II of A Song of GF & BB begins on September 14th.

[robingrafton]

confrontation brewing

( a part of @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood )

starter with @benjen-mormont

After the wedding of Prince Jacaerys and Princess Baela, Robin finally felt he could relax. While he never truly felt relaxed in his life, endlessly worrying over duties he himself had to manage and the problems of others, sometimes he felt a night out alone helped him to feel at peace. While preferring to be in the company of others, sometimes a lonesome journey could set his mind straight.

So this night, he chose to travel to the same tavern he had taken his best friend Jacaerys to for his bachelor party, only days ago that was. It was a nice place, full of people he knew and was friendly with, but not overly close with to where they would not bother him tonight.

He settled in his seat, a table by himself and his glass filled in front of him. His drink was a sort of mead, something the lady serving him knew he liked but he had never quite asked what it exactly was. He had gotten through one serving when he felt as if he was being watched, making him tense once again.

His brown eyes wandered around the tavern, anxiously looking at those who he knew. None of the others seemed to be looking at him, and he would have passed off this feeling as irrational if it were not for the man his eyes settled upon. Finally placing the person who seemingly could not keep their eyes off of Robin, it was a man who Robin somehow recognized, but could not place...

He stood up abruptly, leaving his table and glass behind, long forgotten. Moving closer to the mysterious man, his memories finally gave him an answer of where he knew this other. At Jacaerys bachelor party... he stared at me the whole time as well!

While Robin was open to making friends with anyone, he would not tolerate rudeness. He had put the staring aside the other day as to not ruin his friends party, but this night he would not. Walking faster now, he strode towards the man's table, ready for answers.

"There seems to be a problem between the two of us that I have not figured out yet. Care to share it? Or will you continue to stare me down, hoping your eyes will do damage to me? Who are you?" He could not help himself as the questions poured out, not giving the other a chance to answer until he had asked all of them. Examining the other all while his words tumbled out, he noticed that the man looked familiar in a way that was more than just some random person at a tavern. As if he was someone of a great house... but Robin ignored that feeling for now, waiting for answers to his inquiries.

[gysellablacktyde]

character challenge for @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood

challenge: write a scene of your character either in the direct lead up or aftermath of the wedding, women's court, and all related celebrations.

collaboration with @lady-of-knives

The day of Prince Jacaerys and Princess Baela's wedding was getting closer, and Gysella decided to look for flowers to use for her hair within the gardens of the Red Keep. Her dress for the wedding celebration was going to be green, as that was a color representing her house. Well, her house before she was married, that is. She was on the look for flowers that were black, as black was another one of her house colors as well as her husbands house. Black flowers seemed rather a rarity in this vast garden of brightly colored plants, so Gysella had been searching for quite some time.

Her searching began to feel dull, so she took her eyes away from the flowers to look at others who were around her. Many faces she did not know, as well as some she did. Her eyes eventually fell on a woman around her age, a lady she instantly recognized as Berena Bolton. The two of them had met before, but it was brief as well as uncomfortable. She was a Lady in waiting to Princess Baela, just as Alannys was. Gysella was still wary around those not from the Iron Islands, and Berena was a Northerner. Gysella could not remember how many Northerners she had known in her lifetime, but it was very few.

Curious, Gysella walked closer to the Bolton girl. What was she doing out in the gardens? Suddenly Gysella felt curious about more things. What do Northerners wear to weddings? Does this girl act as she has heard Boltons act in many stories before, flaying and torturing their enemies? Perhaps there was something to learn from talking to her, so Gysella made her way closer towards Berena. Once she arrived in front of her, she tilted her head to the side, examining the lady in front of her.

"Berena Bolton. Do you remember me? I am Lady Alannys' friend." Gysella gave Berena wary eyes, continuing to look at her outfit. She barely gave the other girl a second to respond before continuing to speak. "I have a question I was wondering. I am out here in the gardens today in search of flowers for my wedding outfit. What do Northerners wear to an event like this?"

[sirenalannysgreyjoy]

Respect cannot be demanded, only earned: with @black-queen-rising

Alannys didn’t know what to make of this meeting.  She should have expected it.  Now that she and Joffrey had been courting for a significant amount of time and their affection for each other had only grown, it was obvious Queen Rhaenyra would want to ensure Alannys would be able to fit into her family, though perhaps more importantly, into court life.  She’d invited Alannys to her rooms to look through gowns for Baela’s wedding festivities, a kind and normal gesture from what Alannys had been able to gather.  The Queen was one of, if not the most, fashionable women in the kingdom and she seemed to be more than happy to share that knowledge to anyone who asked for it.  Alannys hadn’t asked, but she imagined being allowed into the family required she be deemed presentable.  The idea annoyed her, but she told herself she could endure it for Joffrey.

She was torn on how to feel towards Queen Rhaenyra.  She didn’t know her well, but she knew Joffrey adored her.  Despite having such a demanding position, it seemed she did her best to be present in her various children’s lives.  Alannys knew from her own family that was no small feat and it said a lot about Rhaenyra’s character that she’d made it a priority in her life when so many other things could have taken precedence.  Yet, Alannys felt wary of her.  While she had grown a bond of trust and friendship with Baela and a love for Joffrey, she couldn’t help but feel wary.  Alannys wasn’t the most knowledgeable about court life, but she knew a predator when she saw one.  Whatever others may wrongly think, Alannys had quickly recognized Rhaenyra to be every bit of a dragon, just as dangerous as any of her ancestors had been.  

One of Rhaenyra’s ladies let Alannys into Rhaenyra’s rooms and she froze, knowing what she was supposed to do and suddenly finding herself unable to do it.  She had practiced curtsies in one of the Red Keep’s various ballrooms with Jynessa Westerling, laughing and throwing their gowns out in dramatic sweeps as they lowered themselves slightly towards the floor.  Though Jynessa had taught her the movement in preparation for this very meeting, Alannys realized she had only been playing pretend.  Now that she was facing the Queen, she couldn’t make her knees bend.  Greyjoys did not bow and respect couldn’t be demanded, only earned.  Every captain had to prove themselves to their crew if they wanted their loyalty and despite custom, and perhaps even her betrothed, demanding that respect simply because of Rhaenyra’s position as both Queen and Joffrey’s mother, Alannys could not force herself to bend.  She supposed there was still a will of iron inside her after all.

However, despite what most greenlanders may have thought, Alannys had been raised with some manners and she smiled as calmly as she could despite her nerves.  “Queen Rhaenyra, thank you for inviting me here today.  Joffrey was very pleased we would be spending time together.”  Alannys hoped Joffrey would be a safe topic as one of the only things they had in common.  “He speaks highly of your knowledge of fashion.”  Alannys could only hope Queen Rhaenyra wouldn’t try to insist on Alannys wearing a highly ornamental gown with layers of fabric and lace.  While Alannys had often admired such dresses, she didn’t think she would ever feel like herself wearing one.  She may have adjusted to court life in many ways, yet her fashion still remained quite simple except the various accessories she enjoyed putting into her hair.

[helaenasdreamfyres]

Precious Time

( a part of @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood )

Starter with @shrykosjaehaerys

Any time that she was able to spend time with her beloved children, Helaena would take full advantage of it. With all of the wedding preparations finally paying off for the royal wedding that was tomorrow, she knew her and her family would be more than busy and less able to spend private time together. So, today her and her sweet son Jaehaerys decided they would fly Dreamfyre and Shrykos together.

Jaehaerys was her child that was most similar to her, their personalities and faces matching in such an extreme way that it was commented on by others often. It seemed she passed on her shy and timid demeanor to her eldest boy, and her other children were all their father in their lovable social ways. It brought her and Jaehaerys closer it seemed, that they could always understand one another and loved nothing more than to fly their dragons together in the peace and quiet of the morning.

After they finished their flight, the pair dismounted their dragons near the dragon pit. Helaena pet Dreamfyre, feeling her hot scales. Dreamfyre was an extremely protective dragon despite her calm nature, and she often moved herself to shield the people and dragons she cared for, even if there was no danger near. At the current moment, she stood right in front of the smaller dragon Shrykos, shielding Helaena and Jaehaerys from the sun it seemed.

“Dreamfyre is protective of you and your dragon, sweet one.” Helaena said to Jaehaerys, smiling and laughing. “She loves you both very much.” Helaena then walked away from Dreamfyre’s head towards her son. “Are you excited for the royal wedding tomorrow? I know it will be a lot of people to be around at once, but you will have your siblings and Visenya by your side, it will be fun I am sure! Your father and I will be there with you as well, if you ever feel you need a break from the crowds please don’t hesitate to tell us.”

[thefourthstormfloris]

Ours is the Fury

( a part of @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood )

starter with @cassandra-of-baratheon

Despite everything Floris had assumed for the royal wedding, that it would be terrible and she’d embarrass herself and things such as that, she’d ended up having fun. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been happy at a public gathering, and in fact, she believes she had never been. This was the first time she could be at any sort of event and enjoy herself. Between dancing with her betrothed Ser Garmund, conversing with Lady Hightower, thinking about her new dog she was promised, and being with her older sister Maris, she seemed life had no problems at all.

It was the time of the wedding ball, which were to be held in the gardens. Lady Samantha Hightower had chosen a yellow dress for Floris, and as she always eagerly accepted Lady Sam’s ideas, she ended up wearing it. It was something she has seen others look strangely at her for wearing. She had never in her life worn the color yellow, gold accents had been on her black dresses, but never before had a pure yellow dress been placed on her before. She decided she wanted to try new colors, a decision she never thought she would have made, but nonetheless she found the dress very stunning. Things were changing for her at a rapid speed, and all of it felt positively beautiful.

But, there was one thing in her life that was still confusing, and that was the relationship between her and her eldest sister, Cassandra. While Floris felt dearly close to Maris and felt positive towards Ellyn, her and Cassandra had always been cold towards one another. Cassandra was the clear favorite to their parents, at least that was the way Floris saw things. Her parents never gave her a second glance the way they did for Cassandra, and they never praised her half as much. Floris was the disappointment, and Cassandra was heir, and Floris felt the hatred in her heart like a scar that refused to fade, there for everyone to see.

So when the Baratheon family arrived to the wedding ball together, standing next to her eldest sister had felt extremely uncomfortable. They had nothing in common, barely spoke to each other, and now had to stand here and present themselves as happy and beautiful to the court. Looking up at Cassandra, Floris tried to examine how the other was feeling, but she could not. She could never read her older sister the way she could read Maris, or even Ellyn. She never knew how she felt.

But she wondered if Cassandra had noticed this change in Floris, or if she was stuck in her own world of duties for the Princess Baela, not noticing her youngest sister. For what seemed like the first time in her life, Floris spoke up. “Sister…�� she started, voice soft and quiet. “It must be nice to see your Princess wedded.”

Floris looked at her dress, remembering who had gifted it to her. “I am not sure if our parents passed the news onto you, but I am betrothed to Ser Garmund Hightower now. I’m not sure where I will be going after the wedding, perhaps to Oldtown, I do not know…” She stopped suddenly, unsure why she revealed her confusion about her life after the wedding to Cassandra. Perhaps she wanted to give something to Cassandra that she could understand, share a small part of her heart to her that she had never done before. This wedding had been a time of firsts and Floris was ready to face a first with her sister.

[oscartullyofriverrun]

Creating a Home: with @lord-kermit-of-riverrun

Oscar sat on a low stone wall by the gates of the Red Keep, scanning the road ahead for any sign of his brother’s approach.  According to the last letter he’d received from his brother, he expected to arrive today but anything could have held him up from a muddy stretch of road to a tavern filled with beautiful women on the outskirts of King’s Landing.  Oscar didn’t mind waiting though.  He had brought a book outside with him, a tome with an in-depth look into warfare. There was battle strategy involved of course, but the book also stressed the importance of things lords often overlooked such as morale, sanitation conditions, and the level of trust between the various men called from different areas of the region.  Usually the book easily kept his attention, but he couldn’t seem to focus and instead kept rereading the same lines over and over again.

Lately, Oscar had been thinking more about the future.  His conversation with Lady Sabitha had allowed him to see he might actually be able to take charge of his own future and shape it into something he wanted.  For the past six moons, Oscar had been stuck in a cycle of grief, frustrated with his father’s coldness, his mother’s complicity, and his brother’s aloof nature.  He’d been searching desperately for a place to call home without ever realizing he might have the strength to create one himself.  What he wanted more than anything, what he had always wanted, was to improve both the Riverlands and his house.  He’d spent the past few days drawing up plans on different policies he wanted to try and he could only hope his brother would be open to talking about them once he arrived.

A part of him yearned to go wait for Kermit at the training yard, forcing his mind to clear of everything but the steps of his opponent and the weight of his sword in his hand, but he was worried if he missed his brother’s arrival he wouldn’t see him until he decided to seek Oscar out. He didn’t want to wait until his brother got around to deciding he wanted to grace Oscar with his presence.  Kyle’s attention had always been difficult to catch and even harder to hold. Oscar had long since learned how to best make himself unavoidable when he wanted Kermit to pay attention to him, though what should have felt familiar felt frustrating and tiring today.  Despite everything though, Oscar was excited to see his brother again.

The moment he saw a familiar looking horse approach the gate, Oscar leaped to his feet and ran to stand beside the guards as they let Kermit inside.  Distantly, Oscar realized he probably should have let his brother get further inside before he started talking, but his excitement to see Kyle overtook his common sense.  “I was beginning to worry you had been taken by bandits.  Actually, I’ve been reading and I think we should be working on improving our agriculture.  We’ll never catch the Reach, but if we can provide our people reliable food throughout winter, less of them well have to turn to robbery,” Oscar paused to take a breath and to give his brother a bright smile. “How was your journey?”

[jeynearrynvale]

Challenge for @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood

Pt. 1 leadup to Jacaela wedding

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Jeyne sat in the main hall of the Eyrie, it was quiet and cold. A deliberate setup on her part, she wanted the atmosphere to be just right as she made her announcement. The prince Jacaerys and princess Baela were to be wed soon; she would not be missing out on the festivities. It had been too long since she’d seen her family and longer still since she had been at court. Jeyne was dying to know what was really happening there, to get a sense of the city’s atmosphere. As such, she needed to name someone to rule in her stead.

The logical option was her cousin, Ser Joffrey. He was perfectly capable and more than qualified to rule in her absence. However, the man was insistent that he not be left behind. She’d left him in charge when she had made her way to the Queen’s coronation. And she could understand his jealousy, the capital was splendid with all of the talented Targaryen women organizing things. So reluctantly, she had written him off as a possible option. She knew there were those who were salivating at the chance to seat up here and gaze down at the Vale beneath them. To feel the warmth of power that washed over one as the moon doors creaked open, the wind rushing up to steal your balance as you gazed down, down, down.

No, it would never do to have anyone who genuinely craved the power and prestige of the seat sit it in her absence. It would only cause her more problems down the line and Jeyne had enough problems. She just wanted to have a nice, smooth journey to King’s Landing. Then she wanted to relax and enjoy herself. She didn’t want to worry about another idiotic coup attempt while she was gone. Jessamyn was coming with her along with a gaggle of young ladies and Jeyne was determined that it be a time of joy and wonder for all of them. There was only so much warmth she could bring up to the Vale. It would be splendid to spend a moment basking in the glow of the red keep. It would be buzzing with life, exploding with grandeur. Just the place to be for anyone who knows anything about parties and Jeyne was an expert in them.

So she sat stone faced and still, her back stiff and straight. She wore a cream gown and the shorter sleeves caused gooseflesh to raise on her arms. She’d ordered the moon doors be thrown open for this announcement. All of the lord and ladies of the Vale were gathered below her, anxiously throwing glances towards the open pit. She fought back a smirk at the pale faces. It was showtime after all.

“I’ve called you all here because I’ve decided who is to rule in my absence.”

She paused and gazed around the room at them. The tall white pillars of the room made them all look tiny in comparison.

“Anyone wishing to lodge a complaint can throw it in the suggestion box.” She then gestured towards the moon doors.

“Right.” She smiled at them. “Let’s get on with it. I have decided that the lady Amanda will rule in my stead.”

A harrumph of protest went up around the room, muted but still there. Jeyne raised an eyebrow and subtly signaled to her guard to push the crowd forward. Ser Joffrey was nearly beside himself with laughter at the panicked expressions but the crowd did fall silent.

“I know what you’re thinking, but the suggestion box is there for a reason! Really, if you have an issue-“ she tilted her head towards the doors, clicking her tongue. Indicating where they should voice those suggestions.

It was then the Redfort woman stood and made her way to the doors, standing just mere feet away as she bellowed down below. “Can we get a fucking fire going?”

Jeyne watched in amusement as the crowd parted to allow the lady to step back. Clapping her hands together she ordered the doors closed and a fire lit.

“Now, does anyone else have anything to say?”

She could see ser Arnold slipping out of the back of the hall. She knew he was fuming but when she cut her eyes to his son, she saw Eldric was enjoying her theatrics. She mentally shrugged, rather the son anyway. He was much better company. She saw various lords eyeing each other up as if mentally conversing about their lady liege who’d lost it all. Jeyne sat giddy in her seat, it was time to pack.

[goldenclarice]

twelfth month of 129 ac      king's landing, exiting the red keep                   @stunningladysam​

the point of exit of the red keep is as a river and hordes of trout swimming upstream, churning under the blanket sounds of chatter and palfreys that bristle under the grip of a liege’s knees or from the push and pull at being harnessed to a wheelhouse. only here clarice is uncharacteristically filled with a mildness more often seen in hummingbirds – it asks for very little, and takes even less. all it needs is some sun and favorable winds to carry her wings onward so that she may drink in every cup of beauty. as it were, a throng of courtiers and sycophants mark the arrival of the lady oldtown, pressing upon her like a gurgling stream swallowing a single floating water lily. clarice stands at the threshold of her wheelhouse, advancing forward as hummingbirds do when they seek to slake their thirst on the sticky nectar-center of a flower. 

"my lady sam!" lady tyrell called out enthusiastically in shades of freshness and familiarity that bespoke of their shared origins at the banks of the mander and the vines that lined the winding paths of their metropolises. “would you like to ride into the city with me?"

[theredripper]

𝐀𝐑𝐂 𝐈𝐈: ���𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 → a summary of events during the timeskip ( 2 / 2 )

On the beginning of the sixth moon of the year 129 AC, Toron and his uncle Veron, along with a host of their men, traveled by dromond into the waters of the Narrow Sea to lay siege to a trading galley by the name of The Black Crane, a Volantene ship captained by a man of certain renown that had monopolized the market of Valyrian treatises and tomes. Toron had unhappily but willingly traversed these waters as emissary for his father, Lord Dalton Greyjoy, because of a bargain that had been struck with Lady Calla Celtigar. Due to the international ramifications of two of the Queen’s advisors colluding an attack against a foreigner of the Free Cities that bespoke of important contacts, Toron had taken fire to the news of this bargain and had threatened pandemonium unto the whole of Westeros in his rage. It was not long after their estrangement that Lord Dalton arranged for Toron to train under Ser Steffon Darklyn so that he'd be too busy to devise plans and he’d be forced to stay in King’s Landing. It was not an arrangement that Toron had been keen to take, and so it was by the candlelight of these long nights that Toron had begun to plan a raid of his own: after the raid on The Black Crane, The Cursed Emerald and its crewmates were to slip away from the Narrow Sea and into the Mander to begin raiding every coast of the realm until finally making their eventual siege of the westerlands. After many weeks of careful planning and several days out on open sea, the ironborn descended upon The Black Crane with wooden cudgels and bitter steel. The accompanying host were like to say that Toron had been distractible during the skirmish, driving his blade into their enemies heads all the same but with scarce focus, noted in the carelessness with which he trounced onto his enemies with no forethought to his line of defense. Still, the ironborn had come away with the lion’s share of plunder: jewels, Valyrian steel daggers, and a red, singed tome bound in human skin. Toron had also come away with a swarm of injuries that’d left him unconscious for two days. By Veron’s command, Toron, his crewmates and the loot of The Black Crane were brought back to Dragonstone, the island that Lord Dalton had secluded to. This change of course prolonged Toron’s plans of  invasion and so his weak condition only worsened in his fury. It was an act of wretched hopelessness when he began to refuse all help from his crewmates, barring himself instead in the privacy of his quarters during the onset of infection and delirium. It was Rodrik, his brother and First Mate, who called upon Rohanne’s intercession and by whose intervention Toron began to make a recovery in the following days. 

It was plain that the forbidding halls of Dragonstone lacked the peace and quiet that Toron needed. He prohibited the company of his father and his wives, eschewed Lady Jeyne Wylde and her children, but sat audience to the Targaryens of Dragonstone as needed. Toron instead took residence on The Cursed Emerald that had been fastened at the port of the fishing village. The nine days and nights he sojourned in the horrid island were spent in bed rest and in the creation of a new map of the Narrow Sea for his father’s study. It was a map unlike anything Toron had created for the reason that he had come in possession of advanced nautical instruments from the plunder of The Black Crane. As it were, the ironborn had only ever had access to rudimentary navigational aids such as sunstones, the position of stars, sounding lines that measured the depth of water, and the use of mountains and valleys as landmarks when sailing along the coast. These instruments, instead, allowed for more precise map projections and scales of distance as well as a windrose network that detailed shoals, harbors reefs, and islands along the coastlines. It was drawn on vellum paper (extending to the equivalent of 4 feet high x 5 feet wide) in highly stylized ink of various colors. Toron had long ago kept sea journals that he had transcribed from Dalton’s empirical observations of winds, currents, ports and safe anchorages, and the conditions of shores which aided in the creation of the map, too. 

On the ninth day of his stay, Toron arrived unannounced to The Raven and waited for his father in his study. The map lay unrolled on the desk and with no explanation of its origins, though anyone who knew Toron well enough could see that the handwriting was his. Toron also made no prolongations or grandstanding gestures to express how remorseful he felt and so he only stared ahead while Dalton looked at it. Finally, he knelt before his father and kissed the Greyjoy signet ring on his finger in a sign of fealty and goodwill. When Toron rose from the floor, he placed his own sunstone gemstone in Dalton’s hand as an unspoken assurance that he would remain in King’s Landing and that they would see each other again. “Besides,” he added, “you’ll need it to find the sun that lays hidden behind the mist and fog of this dreary shithole. I can’t tell up from down most days. In fact, I’d thought the Red Kraken had turned purple instead!” At that, he had laughed heartily for the first time in weeks before disappearing into the mist and setting course for King’s Landing.

At King’s Landing, Toron spent his days with Ser Steffon Darklyn not as a red faced squire desperate to prove himself, but as a solemn warrior who turned to the sword many years ago. He found Ser Steffon to be a fighter who knew from training, a knight who knew from experience. By contrast, Toron had been trained by his father in the acts of ruthless slaughter and relied upon the grisly experiences of battle to grow the sword in his greedy, grasping hands. What the Lord Commander offered, instead, was precision: he taught him against superfluous, wasted movements and trained him to wield lances and morningstars and how to withstand the charge of a vanguard on foot and while mounted on a steed. Above all, Toron learned that wielding a sword was congruent to discipline and rectitude, in showing mercy to his enemies, and how these enlightened acts led to deeds that made a man worthy of the White Book. Toron remained a cynic unto these sentiments but was a quick study nonetheless, even while he had frequent spats with Ser Criston Cole and Ser Lorent Marbrand. But the one figure who he enjoyed above all in the training yard was Prince Joffrey. Once, a Prince of the realm and the legitimized salt son of the Iron Islands would have been diametrically opposed to one another, but it was at the swords crossed point that they found common ground. Their friendship was such that in Toron’s name day he was gifted a mighty sword, the likes of which could be worth its weight in gold dragons on the Streets of Steel atop Visenya’s Hill. It was not Nightfall, but he loved it all the same. 

In effect, Toron’s namesday gift instilled a gravitas to his training to a disquieting degree that the court of King’s Landing were like to say that he was fixing to assassinate Daemon Targaryen if the need to meet the mainland’s biggest military asset with force drew near once the Iron Islands declared war against the Crown. Toron did little to assuage these concerns and in fact inflamed them with grandstanding demonstrations of his martial prowess – in this way, it was like living back in Pyke. He learned long ago that the only way people came to respect him was by inspiring fear and fanning the flames of his reckoning. It could be said as well that the company he kept did not help his reputation. Princess Aliandra of Dorne was a frequent companion of his at King’s Landing, a figure both equally reviled and awe-inspiring. They were both foreigners to the sensibilities and intricacies of the court of King’s Landing, and in each other, they understood more and less than the illusion of being good people or the concession of being wicked: rather, the pair of them saw the world for what it was, and how this is was not a thing so binary as the rest believed. In their time together, this led them to delight in life’s finest and most terrible experiences together: drinking, gambling, disrupting the streets of the capital by the clamoring of their steed’s hooves on the cobblestones, and all the pleasures of the mind but never the body. Toron could not help the way which he unabashedly looked at her, and it could be said that his yearning for her tethered him further to the mainland. Still, pursuing her was not so much as a question of propriety but a risk - in the months that followed, Toron had received news that his father had brokered a marriage pact with the First Magister of Lys, a noble banking family that would make the Iron Islands fertile in gold and trade. Toron was to marry Larra Rogare, and while he was glad to receive her and her dowry, he could not help the doubt he felt in marrying a woman whose disposition and Gods he did not know. This was still the opportunity he had been waiting for all along and he faced it with a stiff lip, even if he found it hard to face Aliandra at times. 

At times, Toron found himself more alone than he was back in Pyke; he could count on his father and mother to be elusive as always, but for the first time in his life Toron found himself bereft of his cousins by Amarys and Esgred, both of his aunts well-tempered advice, Alannys’s wiliness, and Penny’s jabbering. Penny’s absence was hardest felt by him and it was by this reason alone that he could not bring himself to visit her in Highgarden. Each visit would lead to a new farewell and a new wound on his heart. It is why he preferred the impersonality of letters rather than the stream of heart wrenching goodbyes upon the sandbars of the Mander. Perhaps it is because of these absences that Toron did not eschew Lord Corlys’s company any longer. Lord Corlys and Toron coincided many times along the port of the Blackwater Rush and in the halls of the Red Keep, but it wasn’t until Toron’s return from Dragonstone that he told the Sea Snake of his recent travels and how each wound had been worth its blood in plunder. Much to Toron’s surprise, Lord Corlys invited him to Hall of Nine so that he could regale him with stories of his own and he could showcase the treasures he possessed. It wasn’t until four moons later, in the final days of the tenth moon, that Toron finally set course for Driftmark. He suffered a great fright by Meleys who sat defending the coast, but once allowed into the castle, he lay witness to Lord Corlys’s storied legend and all the priceless treasures he had come away with in his nine great voyages. For the first time in his life, Toron did not steal from the dragons horde of treasures, finding that he prized Lord of Driftmark's stories far more, especially those of his most recent expedition to Qarth.

It would not be until a few days later, on the eleventh moon, that Toron set sail to King's Landing once again, awaiting the return of his father and Penny.

[asongofgoldenfireandblackblood]

Six moons subsequent to the coronation of Westeros’ first Ruling-Queen, ravens have once more been sent to summon every caliber and shade of the kingdom’s noble families back to Court at The Red Keep...

...This time to celebrate the wedding of Queen Rhaenyra’s heir, Crown Prince Jacaerys, and his cousin, step-sister, and betrothed of nearly twenty years, Princess Baela. They have flown out, however, to meet a Realm steeped in far more tension, ambition, and gossip than most could have dreamed half a year ago.

The soon-to-be-newlyweds are, of course, a source of much of the whispers and more, many speculating the only reason such a pairing has only lasted so long because of the new Queen’s desperation to restore favorability towards her family’s Valyrian looks in her son’s progeny after her own poor luck in the matter, the Prince held only by his duty to a union made when he had hardly learned to walk, and the new Princess wholly satisfied with such an otherwise suspect arrangement because of her own intent to rule not with but through her blushing groom. Another couple amongst the Targaryen Royals, Prince Aemond and Princess Rhaena have set gossip of their own aflutter, with a courtship lasting all these past six moons and no proposal seeming to dawn on the horizon, spectators have proposed the second son may have been more infatuated with the chase than its subject, while others murmur the proclaimed Pearl is only using him as a shield until someone better comes along…or comes of age.

All the while halfway-reliable reports that Prince Aegon the Younger has been spotted on many an evening gallivanting through the streets of Fleabottom, his younger brother Prince Viserys has grown fond of playing kissing games with his own, male companions, and their sister Princess Visenya has been all but neglected during her Queen-Mother's latest pregnancy, causing the girl in turn to act out with uncharacteristic misbehavior and grow sour towards the nearing arrival of her new siblings. More worrying still, in the five moons since his betrothal to Lady Alannys Greyjoy, Prince Joffrey has spent more and more of his time with the Ironborn. Some say this is his way of rejecting the Faith of the Seven, leaving the Gods for the Drowned God, becoming more barbaric because of their influence on him, and leaving behind the kind and courtly boy he was in trade for the temperament of a Greyjoy.

Queen Rhaenyra herself has, unsurprisingly, sparked even more whispers throughout her court and across the kingdom than all her children combined. After the very first weeks of her reign were marred by an attempted poisoning, a speculated miscarriage, a shock pregnancy announcement, and even more shocking political appointments, her Grace could not be faulted for attempting to draw the public eye anywhere else, but she has not. While her supporters and detractors alike found the new installation of stained glass in the high windows of the Red Keep's Throne Room honoring The Seven unveiled during her coronation to be impressive, it was not hard to notice the wrought iron seven pointed star which had hung above The Iron Throne for nigh on two decades had been replaced by the Targaryen sigils that had not hung there since Septon Barth became Hand to King Jaehaerys.

Meanwhile the new Queen's closest ladies have caused gossip of their won to fly between loose lips and the cracks in the Red Keep's walls; Lady Roslin Vance believed to be conspiring with the head housekeeper and whispered witch of her brother, Lord Larys', stronghold at Harrenhall to kill him via magical means after a long string of failed assassination attempts in vengeance for her assertions he was behind the deaths of their father and older brother. The interim hand of the Queen and her lead Lady-in-Waiting, Lady Calla Celtigar has further drawn rumors that she has soured since Queen Rhaenyra's coronation at odds with Her Grace over her pregnancy, others speculating she dislikes the public attention she receives as Hand, and the boldest claim that she was scorned in illicit advances by one of the Lords of the Small Council. These murmurings accompanied by whispers that the Lady Celtigar has been taking keen note of powerful Lords of the Realm, especially those who seek high positions on Queen Rhaenyra's council, and her judgment as thorough as it is fierce.

As the Dowager-Queen Alicent has all but entirely absented herself from Court in favor of spending her days on Dragonstone and tending to the affairs of her children and grandchildren, speculation has grown that the new Queen's disregard towards The Faith showcased in everything from her change of heraldry, to the appointment of Dalton Greyjoy to her small council, and now the invitation of a Dornish Envoy to attend the wedding and restart diplomatic negotiations between the two kingdoms has driven Queen Alicent to flee her own home of the past three decades over the hostility. Although, those less charitable in their views on the Dowager claim she has done so not from Rhaenyra's hostility, but out of self preservation, as to spare herself the prying eyes of the continuing investigations into who was behind the attempt on her stepdaughter's life the night of King Viserys' funeral. All the while, the head of the aforementioned party from Sunspear, Ruling-Princess Aliandra, is believed to have arrived looking for a Westerosi groom of her own, perhaps even from the long time rival-Kingdom's royal family itself.

Speaking of Dragonstone, the elder Prince Aegon has been causing his own, characteristic share of speculation; most pressingly that he has been harboring several aggrieved parties in familial disputes between fathers and their daughters and wives, slowly building up his own harem for Seven only know what ends, without a care in the world as to what Lords he angers in the process. Meanwhile, since Queen Rhaenyra ascended the throne, Princess Helaena has been involving herself in the ruling of Dragonstone more often than noticed before causing claims this is because Helaena feels she is robbed from her right to be Queen, and she is making up for this by ruling Dragonstone. Or, worse yet, she is readying herself for the duties of being The Queen. Princess Rhaenya too has been acting most unusually spending long hours on the island's sept and eliciting rumors that she has already lost her tongue as punishment after a secret admire made her with child, though the Princess herself did finally come to threaten any more slander against her would be met with dragon fire. Her twin, Prince Daeron, on the other hand, who has spent the past half year serving as the commander of the City Watch for his older sister's new reign, has casually confirmed but not yet to which one it has seems that the Prince Daeron has gotten over his fear of the sea and been traveling on many days to Storm’s End to see his future wife, whoo he's been heard calling his "shining light". Even one of the youngest amongst the family, Princess Jaehaera is whispered to be dabbling in Valyrian blood magic, seeking to use ancient and forbidden practices to enhance her connection with dragons, some claiming even to resurrect a dragon long believed to be dead whilst conducts strange rituals in the dead of night, and using her own blood in these experiments.

Across the bay on Driftmark, the most unexpected news was announced by Princess Rhaenys, that the five and fifty year old is pregnant once more, causing speculation of dangerous treatments from Asshai, a plot to produce a new heir for Driftmark over Prince Lucerys, and turmoil within the Princess' and Lord Corlys marriage. The Sea Snake himself has recently been making frequent appearances at court without his wife, which while catalyzing rumors of turmoil in and of itself, has now become fuel to a raging fire of gossip and conspiracy over whether he has set off on a voyage to Qarth against his own will on orders of the Queen, or in a purposeful attempt to absent himself from his wife's potentially perilous labors. Meanwhile—the so-called "White Worm"—Lady Mysaria, has purportedly welcomed home her own bastard daughter with Prince Daemon, once believed to have died in her cradle, Zhaerina, after many years spent away from the Crownlands. And in the midst of it all, whispers are growing that a girl from Spicetown has claimed the wild dragon called "Sheepstealer" on the isle's shores, perhaps a royal bastard claiming a perceived-denied inheritance, perhaps something even more dangerous.

Throughout the Kingdom the most widely remarked upon matter has quickly become the negotiations to maintain peace between The Iron Islands and The Reach. While most of the conditions are expectedly concerned with safe passage and trade agreements, wards, though some have claimed hostages, have been exchanged on both sides in the form of Lord Dalton Greyjoy's youngest daughter by one of his "salt-wives" Alla Florent, the legitimized bastard Penny Greyjoy, and the Castellan of High Garden and late-Lord Lorence's eldest cousin Jon Tyrell's son, Henley. The Lady-Regent Clarice Tyrell, for her part, has seemed significantly more pleased with this arrangement than either Ser Jon or Lord Dalton, leading many to believe the once gentle and fair image of the Lady Regent of the Reach has soured through using these children as her pawns. Not least of all because by taking away her greatest detractor’s heir, the highborn and common folk alike speak on the evilness of her ways in which she ensures that Jon Tyrell is brought to heel. A seemingly never-ending source of gossip as of late, however, the Lady-Regent has also drawn many judging eyes for the long visits she's taken with Lady Sabitha Frey over the past half year, and while both women's supporters claim it is simply Lady Clarice supporting her newfound friend through a twin pregnancy, the boldest amongst their opponents claim Lady Sabitha's pregnancy is a sham all together to hide that she has truly fallen in love with The Golden Rose.

The little Lady Penny has even sparked gossip of her own, reports highly divided in claims that she brought an entire boat of wild animals she claimed to be "pets" in accompaniment to her wardship at High Garden, rebuked by glowing praise she is stunningly poised for a girl her age, much less one of Iron Islander origin, and has won the hearts of all those who reside in and visit her new home with her compassion and sweet wit. Lord Dalton, in turn, has been spending a remarkable amount of time on the island of Dragonstone with Prince Aegon after the pair first grew close around Queen Rhaenyra's coronation, sparking many a rumor that all of his salt-wives are, in fact, simply a facade to true his true amorous feelings; rumors not assisted by the fact Princess Helaena has begun to grow most wroth at the Lord Greyjoy's presence. Further, The Lady of House Hightower and wife to it's elderly head, Lord Ormund, Lady Sam, has purportedly been evading her own embarrassment that—while one of the harshest voices at the table in the peace dealings between The Reach and The Iron Islands—her eldest sister, Lady Sansara Serry, has grown near-mad with love for Lord Dalton, going so far as to beg to run away with him in secret before she and her husband left court after the Coronation.

There has been no shortage of rumors concerning the young ladies of Court either. Lady Cerelle Lannister was claimed to have been buying poisons a few moons ago, and only a fortnight before the ravens were sent was accused by the Red Keep's chief ratcatcher of kidnapping many of the castle's cats for hereto unknown purposes. Meanwhile, Lady Maris Baratheon was recently speculated to have wed in secret to a rich man and possibly taken the spot as the heir of Storm’s End though Princess Rhaenya has finally spoken and defended her close friend on this rumor, alongside Lady Maris reaffirming she will not be the heir. More recently, however, she was caught seen holding hands, with the Lady Elaena Snow while the two were extremely close, embroidering beneath the Red Keep's heart tree while Princess Rhaenya was away from her ladies' side and purported to have been out with the yet to be identified man she's whispered to be hoping to marry soon.

The third Baratheon sister and Lady in Waiting to Princess Rhaena, Lady Ellyn, has been noted to be away from court interactions for an advance of a moon's time, a rarity for the Baratheon daughter, who was most seen at court. Reportedly, Lady Ellyn had a public spat with her elder sister Cassandra that caused her lord father to withdraw her from public outings and causing her not to have spoken to her family and friends except her elder sister, Maris, the Princesess Rhaenya and Rhaena, alongside her Lord Father. The two Baratheon sisters have reportedly been in each other's company for an abnormally advanced time, even for sisters. Though, the most scandalous whispers have been elicited from two of Princess Baela's Ladies in Waiting, Lady Alannys Greyjoy and Lady Teora Grafton. With their recent betrothals to Prince Joffrey and Ser Petyr Mooton respectively, the notably sharp witted, cunning, and some claim wild young women have given many cause to believe they intend to secure their unions with an heir or two as quickly as possible, and then—one way or another—dispose of their grooms to live in comfortable widowhood where no may question their notoriously strong wills.

The young Knights and Lords of Court may still outdo them, however, Lord Cregan Stark's continued frequenting of Court combined with his distaste for it's politics showing no signs of fading has caused must speculation he has continued to be drawn back to the so-called nest of vipers by a woman who has earned his heart's affection. Amongst the Manderly sails, sailors speak on the position and strength of the Greyjoy fleet among the ships of Westeros. They question the Queen for Lord Dalton Greyjoy's position as Master of Ships and the favor offered to his children. Torrhen Manderly shares their words and often speaks of concern over the strengthening of House Greyjoy. Torrhen himself, however, has been a recluse at court, more often found at the docks of King's Landing. He only comes to the castle for his lady sister and accompanies his liege lord, Cregan Stark, but most believe Torrhen himself wishes to be away from the 'nest of vipers' known as King's Landing. He is in turn, not the only young heir who has turned their ire towards the Lord of the Iron Islands, Joss Westerling earning the court's attention for over a moon in his show of uncharacteristic bravery in defending his House and home from the Lord's seeming carelessness for other's hard earned gains.

Amongst the prominent Rivermen in King's Landing, Oscar Tully caused quite a scare amongst the Court disappearing for a fortnight with no trace and drawing speculation of kidnapping or even an accidental death before returning unharmed, gossip only sparking further when it was discovered his older brother and heir to Riverrun, Kermit Tully, was mostly unconcerned with his disappearance, and only moderately pleased when Oscar returned. One of Crown Prince Jacaerys' closest friends Ser Willam Vance has drawn speculation he is carrying on a secret affair with a highborn lady already married to a powerful lord. Several witnesses claimed they have spotted the two meeting in secluded corners of court gatherings, exchanging stolen glances and secret notes also that Willam has secretly been considering renouncing his position as heir to House Vance, wishing to free himself from the responsibilities and pressures of nobility, to flee with his forbidden love. All the while the heir to the Iron Islands himself, Toron Greyjoy, has spent the past half year under the command of Ser Steffon Darklyn, learning the ways of the sword of mainland Westeros as a way to inconspicuously remain at King’s Landing. However, voices have begun to grow in the claim that he is preparing to assassinate Daemon Targaryen if the need to meet the mainland’s biggest military asset with force draws near should the Iron Islands go to war with the Crown...

...And so begins Arc II of A Song of Golden Fire and Black Blood.

[robingrafton]

future life together

( a part of @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood )

starter with @ladylaceyvance

It was the time of the wedding feast, and Robin had made sure he grabbed the seat next to his betrothed, Lacey. He would not suffer being apart from Lacey for any longer than he needed to, and the craziness of the wedding, though very enjoyable, had him longing for her comforting presence more than ever. His lovely Lacey she was, as he liked to call her. There was many names he had given her, all in an attempt to praise her and make her feel special. But every time he saw her, the name " lovely Lacey" had popped into his head, and so it stuck.

Leaning back slightly in his chair, he looked at her from the corner of his eye, observing what she was eating. On his own plate in front of him was topped with his favorite food, apple cakes. Though it was not usual or proper to eat cakes before supper, Robin did so anyway. It was a feast after all, and he should be allowed to feast on whatever he liked, was the way he saw it. But when it came to Lacey, he carefully examined what she had on her own plate, making sure it was enough. He did not want her to be hungry, and he constantly was anxious over her health, to an almost obsessive degree.

He reached out to her, grabbing her hand from on top of the table, not caring who would see. "It is good to sit down with you, after all of the excitement." With his free hand, he took a sip of wine. Placing his goblet down next to his plate and their linked hands, he turned his face fully towards her.

"It is nice to see the pair finally wedded..." While the words were entirely true, his thoughts trailed off to his own future. His own future wedding, with Lacey. Though he was no Prince or Princess of the realm, he hoped he could make their wedding just as memorable and meaningful as this one had been. He hoped he could give her everything she had ever wanted and more. Because she had already given him that much.

"One day we will have a wedding as beautiful as this, I promise you. Even if not as grand, I will make ours perfect. Though, with you as the bride, it is already perfect enough for me." He squeezed her hand, trying to communicate the sincerity of his words. That no matter what, just being next to her was his idea of perfect.

"How are you feeling after all of these events? Tired? Hungry? Please, eat, don't let my conversation stop you." While nothing had seemed out of the ordinary with Lacey, he still felt it was of utmost importance that he made absolutely sure she was alright. It lessened his anxiety when she gave him a verbal acknowledgement or even a nod of the head that she was fine.

[gysellablacktyde]

blossoming friendship

( a part of @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood )

starter with @cerellelannister2

Before she had arrived here for the very first time, Gysella Blacktyde proclaimed there was nothing she would ever like about Kings Landing. That thought was quickly proven wrong, as Gysella had found herself visiting the gardens extremely often as of late. The flowers here seemed to grow more vibrant and lively in comparison to the ones she had cared for back home. Though Gysella would never openly compliment this place, her appreciation was shown through how much time she was spending here.

Being in the gardens helped her expand her knowledge of plants and gardening, knowledge that she wanted to bring home with her once she left Kings Landing. Roaming around the gardens had been a nice escape from the busy life she had known lately as well, and the never ending cycle of drama she had gotten herself into. She preferred to come here alone. Though, Gysella sometimes wished there was someone who could help her find what she needed here.

Currently, she was strolling through the pathways, looking for lavender. Her most favorite plant she sought out during every adventure she had outdoors. Though, today she could not seem to find anything she was looking for. Her eyes scanned the vast array of colorful flowers, not noticing any of the purple fragrant plant she wanted.

The gardens were constantly full of other people, and though she wasn't thrilled to ask another for help, she had seen another women around her earlier who looked intriguing to her. By the way the other lady was dressed, she had to have been of a very important family. She had blonde hair and a beautiful face, Gysella thought. The two looked of a similar age, and the mysterious lady was interested in the plants just as Gysella was. So she decided to seek her out.

Gysella walked over to where she had remembered the blonde woman to be earlier, and saw her doing exactly what she had been before. Gysella planted herself next to the lady, looking closely at her face. She looked familiar, but Gysella could not figure out her name. She decided she would trust that it was not someone she was enemies with, as she would surely have remembered if this woman had slighted her before. "Hello, I'm lady Gysella Blacktyde. Who are you?" Barely stopping to give her the chance to say her name, Gysella stated her inquiry. "You seem to know about plants, yes? Will you help me look for lavender, I have been searching for a long while." Gysella stood with her hands folded across her chest, waiting for a response.

[oscartullyofriverrun]

Oscar didn’t know why he was being called to Lady Sabitha’s solar.  His father hadn’t been well enough to make the journey, but both Kyle and his mother Lady Jenny had traveled to The Twins to pay their respects at the funeral. If Lady Sabitha had any political concerns she wanted to address with the ruling family of the Riverlands, Oscar couldn’t imagine why she would come to him first.

Perhaps she was simply being kind, though Oscar couldn’t imagine having the energy to be kind after losing a husband while pregnant with twins.  Then again, Sabitha’s strength was revered around court so maybe it wasn’t so strange.  There were other rumors that explained why Sabitha wasn’t as sad about her husband’s death as she should have been, but Oscar didn’t bother entertaining them. Even if they were true and Sabitha was romantically inclined towards women, that didn’t mean losing Forrest wasn’t difficult at the very least when it came to her son and unborn twins losing a father.

Oscar gave his name to the Frey guard standing outside the door who inclined his head in acknowledgement before opening the door to Sabitha’s solar and closing it behind him.  Oscar’s eyes were instantly drawn to the chess board and he smiled, wondering if Sabitha had specifically set up the board because she had heard about his love for the game. “I understand, my lady.  My mother always said being pregnant with one child was a trial, so she could never imagine what it must be like carrying two children at the same time.”  Oscar felt slightly nervous in the older woman’s presence, though he did his best to hide it.  Sabitha always seemed so self assured and in control, both qualities Oscar wished he had but knew he lacked.

He sat across from Sabitha and clasped his hands under the table to keep himself from fidgeting with the chess pieces in front of him like a nervous child.  “I enjoyed the walk.  The Twins is a very lovely seat, especially with how it spans the river.”  Oscar paused, gathering his courage before asking directly, “Why have you asked to see me today?  I’ll admit, usually most lords or ladies want to speak with my brother before they speak with me.”

4th day of the 2nd month, 130 AC

with.— @oscartullyofriverrun

Forrest's funeral might have ended, but Sabitha's ever lasting list of task was always full these days. Most widows withered with loss, Sabitha instead was blooming. Suspiciously bright after such tragedy, she was aware rumors would ignite if her smiles were noticed publicly.

Instead, she hide. Show herself in public covered in veils and black dresses, Forrest could get that respect for the next weeks. Sabitha visit the Sept often and lighted a candle for him. For Theo's loss. She was a new woman under the eyes of the court, a regent.

Rulership was no stranger to her. Soon she'd have her twins. She hoped for just one daughter. She prayed for her more than anything else. Her candles melted and the wax lost its warm, but her intuition swore two daughters will come to her.

Until that day, she had work to be done... and plans she had to complete. Sabitha organize the chess in front of her for the fifth time, anxiously waiting for her guest.

When organizing guests into neatly distributed rooms inside the Crossing; she accounted for the Brackens and Blackwoods, kept them as far away from each other as possible; her family was near her apartments; and Lady Clarice was back at her side. Everyone else was arrenge around those choices.

The Tully's were granted the highest place of honor near Forrest's old chambers. Fitting of their station and preventing any fighting over someone else (her in-laws) deserving such treatment.

This meant Ser Oscar Tully would be forced to walk across the bridge all the way to Sabitha's chambers. Her solar was welcoming a lot of people lately, most came to say goodbye and wish her good luck as her pregnancy reach its end. Today, she was expecting something brighter to talk about.

The guard announced Oscar's arrival and Sabitha nod her head in acknowledgement.

—I apologize Ser, I'm in no condition to walk right now... or stand actually, my feet are killing me. Although by experience I can say one gets accustomed to walking the distance between the Twins, I hope it wasn't a bother. Please take a seat.