#oc: elayna reyne
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writingbylee · 2 days ago
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i be here— ready to cheer💕💕
Due to you being blood, Tymon will respect you marrying Elayna should you do so.
OH SHIT???? JOHANNA???
It would also help alleviate the rumors swirling as to why you have yet to marry
just let the man be a little gay goddamn
In the early years after they ended their illicit relationship, he might attribute the joy as ungentlemanly eagerness, despite him being the one to break it off.
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD TYLAND AND JOHANNA LORE OH MY GOD
If he is entirely honest with himself, which he does try to practice given most of Jason's flaws stem from a lack of self-awareness…
um i think i’m obsessed with Tyland? i think i’m in love? how is this happening??? so quickly???
Abrogail and Larys Strong stand amongst the crowd, which is expected given their uncle and niece are arriving.
OOOOOO HEY ABBY!!!!!!!
He slides them as he would beads on an abacus. Later, he shall sort everyone and figure out specifics, but for now, all he needs is numbers. 
OBSESSED with this glimpse into Tyland’s psyche and how he both manages and plays the proverbial “game of thrones”
Otto's appraisals tend to be favorable when the subject doesn't back down or flinch. 
I LOVE SEEING INTO TYLAND’S MIND OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDD
“I'm heartened to see Lia joining us.”
OOOOOOO HEY LIA!!!!!!
The wheelhouses roll in, the Lannister's first and the Reynes following.
i literally got so caught up in the story that i forgot that i was trying to pull out the bits i liked the most whoopsies
Both behave exactly as they should. Yet Tymon almost smirks as he observes the crowd, his eyes lighting in an almost cruel way, a shark surveying for his next meal. By contrast, Cerelle's cool appraisal, while still an assessment, comes off as more intrigued than anything else. She surveys everyone with an air of excitement.
LOVE this breakdown of how quickly Tyland sees and reads, accurately, the changes in Tymon and Cerelle. such a good look into how Tyland moves those people around his abacus!!
Assuming the worst of family isn't a good look. 
fucking TYMON oh my LORD
Perhaps it's best Tymon sees him as useless and aging. 
oooooo Tyland’s got your fucking playbook Tymon, get FUCKED
He must speak with Alon anyway. It might be prudent to go out of his way to befriend Alon.
hmmmm would it now👀👀
Tyland instinctively knows Elayna would ruin him were he a younger man.
babe i’m pretty sure she’s gonna ruin now as an older man— but whatever helps you sleep better at night my guy
I AM OBSESSED WITH THE WHOLE SEQUENCE WHERE TYLAND NOTICES THAT ELAYNA MOVES PEOPLE AROUND LIKE HIM. like i literally cannot pull out a favorite line because id just be copy and pasting the entire thing. the joy and nervousness in Tyland as he sees it, betraying him to still be that young man on the inside who is about to be ruined by Elayna. Tyland wanting desperately for Elayna to see it in him as well, and then she DOES. it’s so good. it’s just so good.
Much to his surprise, Cerelle looks at Elayna with a strangely wistful expression, one Tyland is intimately acquainted with.
NOT THE SAPPHIC SADNESS AHHHHHHHHHH
once again got sucked into the story and completely forgot to pull out my favorite bits of text because it’s all just so GOOD
OH MY GOD THE CONVERSATION BETWEEN TYLAND AND ALON!!!!!!! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO HAVE COHERENT THOUGHTS WHEN YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOD???????? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO THINK ABOUT ALON’S SICKNESS WHEN IT MAKES ME SO SAD????? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FATHOM THE IDEA OF ALON KNOWING WHAT HE WANTS FOR ELAYNA BUT ALSO KNOWING THAT MUST BE HER CHOICE?????? EVERYTHING ABOUT THAT CONVERSATION MAKES ME WANT TO SCREAM AT THE SKY AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
no coherent thoughts. only Alon and Elayna. and also Tyland.
Wheel of Fortune: The Fool (Emperor, Upright)
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Story summary: Elayna Reyne often imagines herself being someone and making a name for herself but only in the way young girls do. Unfortunately, when Elayna makes her way to King's Landing as one of Cerelle Lannister's ladies-in-waiting, Elayna finds dreams come with a price. Chapter summary: The Lannisters and Reynes arrive at King's Landing. Tyland begins the process of sorting and accounting for changes they may cause. Word count: ~6.5k Author's note: I want to thank @writingbylee and @baba-fett because y'all are always some of my biggest cheerleaders. I also want to think @emilykaldwen and @ewanmitchellcrumbs for letting me borrow Abby and Lia respectively. It means so much that y'all trust me with your OCs!!! Masterlist , Previous chapter
My good brother,
I apologize for my lack of letters as of late. Cerelle and Tymon's eight and tenth nameday is almost a moon away, and much preparation is to be done, both for the festivities and for their futures. 
Both their father and I agree it is time both come to the Red Keep. We have ensured a place for Cerelle as one of Princess Helaena's ladies-in-waiting. Tymon shan't be staying as long. I bring him merely so he may begin to make more thorough connections. It will be good for both of them, and I trust both of them to take initiative. 
I have a favor to ask of you. It is a large ask, but I fear no one else can help me. I would not mention this if it weren't important.
Tymon has taken an interest in Alon's daughter, Elayna. Despite multiple conversations, he cannot be deterred. He is determined to marry her. While the marriage is advantageous on paper, a union between Tymon and Elayna is ill advised. Most marriages learn to work towards a common good. I cannot see the two of them achieving a point of equanimity.
My son is headstrong, as I'm sure you have picked up on from my letters. Normally, this attribute is beneficial, but it isn't in this particular instance. This is where I must ask a favor from you. Tymon will not respect most men. Due to you being blood, Tymon will respect you marrying Elayna should you do so.
Alon shall join us on the trip to King's Landing, and he can speak with you more about this idea. We have conversed about it so this will not come as a surprise to him. Don't take this to mean I do not care for Elayna; I see much potential in her. I have done all I can for her, but the refinement she is in need of is not something I am equipped to deal with. You are in a much better position to do so. 
It is an advantageous match. It may help open some of the few doors still closed to you. It would also help alleviate the rumors swirling as to why you have yet to marry. Ordinarily, I don't grant rumors and whispers my attention, but they have turned nasty as of late. 
We shall leave in two moons time, not too long after the festivities. It shall be nice to see you again. Your presence is missed here. 
Your friend,
Johanna 
Tyland reads over the letter once again. The letter is nearly 3 moons old, and he keeps other, more recent, correspondence from her since then, but the contents of this one interest him still. Johanna’s preference for not sugar coating the truth behooves, and occasionally amuses, him. He places it back on his desk and pads over to his study window. The carriages should be there within the next several hours. This shall not be the last time he checks; he is inexorably drawn to the window, waiting and watching, eagerly awaiting Johanna’s arrival.
Tyland no longer feels strange when he sees her. In the early years after they ended their illicit relationship, he might attribute the joy as ungentlemanly eagerness, despite him being the one to break it off. Now, his joy stems from seeing an old friend. Truth be told, Tyland almost prefers her friendship to their scandalous affair. Hiding it still makes him sick with anxiety and worry, the fear of being found out never going away entirely. Distance doesn't always doom love, but it certainly destroys affairs.
In the late hours of the night, Tyland catches himself wondering if Cerelle and Tymon might be his. The others are not, he knows this for a fact. No proof exists, but the thought sticks in his mind. 
Tyland sighs. He shakes his head in an attempt to clear it, banish all distractions. He drums his fingers on the windowsill. Johanna rarely asks much of him yet this request sours in his mouth. Perhaps it is the acknowledgement of the rumors as to why he hasn't married yet. Even now, despite everything he has achieved, people gossip about him. The longer he waits, the more people question why. None are so bold as to say directly what they think, but he hears the term “bachelor” thrown around in hushed whispers. 
Tyland runs his hands over his face. He should at least get to know Elayna, he supposes. It wouldn't hurt. He looks out his study window once more, pursing his lips together. If he is entirely honest with himself, which he does try to practice given most of Jason's flaws stem from a lack of self-awareness, Tyland hesitates at the idea of giving up his current life. While the constant barrage of letters irritate him, he enjoys the freedom he has. He inhales and slowly exhales. 
“I shall give it a chance.” Tyland murmurs. 
It would be an advantageous match, both for his family and for himself. Jason's hubris and inattentive nature endangers them; taking advantage of Jason's foibles would be easy if it weren't for Johanna. Marrying the only Reyne daughter strengthens the bonds and takes away any incentive of undermining or rebellion. It also strengthen his position, incentives forward movement, perhaps towards Master of Coins.
Tyland nods. 
It isn't a terrible idea. He can't truly judge how good of an idea it is until he meets Elayna, but on paper, it is a fairly solid suggestion, certainly one he'll take under advisement. 
********************************************
Tyland stands in the courtyard. The arrival of the Lannisters and Reynes causes buzz, and more people stand with the greeting party than he expects. Despite it not being for him and his family, pride creeps through him and settles in his chest. Abrogail and Larys Strong stand amongst the crowd, which is expected given their uncle and niece are arriving. Queen Alicent and Otto stand among them, again not a surprise due to Otto's first wife being a Reyne as well. Truly, more people stand in attendance than Tyland expects, and the sight raises his spirits significantly. 
Tyland rolls Johanna’s suggestion around in his head as he notes who stands in the courtyard and on the steps, each person's ties and allegiance a number in the equation. He slides them as he would beads on an abacus. Later, he shall sort everyone and figure out specifics, but for now, all he needs is numbers. 
“I imagine you are excited to see your nephew and nieces.” Otto's voice almost makes Tyland start. 
“I am.” Tyland smiles. “I haven't seen them in quite some time.”
Otto nods. He interlaces his fingers behind his back. Tyland watches him, keeping his best blandly happy expression on his face. He doubts Otto suspects anything, and he will not give him a reason. 
“I do wish my brother was able to make the journey.” Tyland offers as a way of distraction. It isn't as if he is lying either, he does wish Jason could be here, even if he would be irritated with him before the end of the week.
“It is one of my few regrets I was not able to see my brother and nephews more. Yet I wouldn't change it. The Realm comes first.”
“A sacrifice made in name of the Realm is a worthy one.” 
Otto lets out a low noise of agreement. He studies Tyland for a second, gaze cool and appraising, but Tyland stays steadfast. Information is knowledge, and Tyland gleans what he can from watching interactions. Otto's appraisals tend to be favorable when the subject doesn't back down or flinch. 
“I'm heartened to see Lia joining us.” 
Tyland means what he says, but it is also a self-serving statement. Changing the conversation gives Tyland a chance to breathe, releasing him from Otto's scrutiny for a moment. Few see Tyland for who he truly is. If Otto pays too much attention, he may get a peek behind the carefully crafted façade, which is not exactly what Tyland wants. 
Otto doesn't need to know the full extent of Tyland’s ambitions. He doesn't need to know if things go according to plan, Tyland sees himself as Hand within the next decade, perhaps within the next five years if he plays his cards right. Otto is crafty, he surely expects Tyland desires more than Masters of Ships. However, if he sees Tyland as a threat, Tyland will gain no traction.
Better to let Otto think he aims for Master of Coins, a more than respectable position.
“Yes.” Otto turns his head. As he looks at his wife, Tyland swears Otto's jaw softens the slightest amount. He turns his attention back towards the gate. “My understanding is Alon has done much to keep the peace and ease tensions.”
Oh. Tyland tries not to blink. Tensions between the deceased wife's family and the new wife isn't a new issue, he supposes. Alon reaching out shifts dynamics, and if he reaches out to one, he surely reaches out to more. Alon may be in many people's good graces. 
A bead on the abacus slides. 
Thank the Seven Tyland makes time for people. He fears it may not be enough some days, given how much damage control he must do when Jason comes around, but anything helps. He loathes it, but in his sleepless moments, Tyland wishes he had been given the gift of gab. Not because he likes talking, precisely the opposite; he wishes it came easier to him because it feels so difficult and even tedious, depending on the person.
“Alon is a good man.” Tyland pauses. Oddly enough, he remembers Alon being the one to give him the idea. Not directly, of course, but Alon put the idea in Tyland’s head as an offhanded comment. With his new knowledge of Alon reaching out to Lia, Tyland wonders if it was on purpose.
He could offer the tidbit now, a fact about him that may cause Otto to look at him in a better light, but before he can, a crier catches everyone's attention. The carriages are close. Everyone in the courtyard turns towards the portcullis and gate, the chatter easing into whispers. People shuffle about the area, and Tyland moves instinctively with them as everyone shifts into their respective places. No one moves too far, they more move outward and away from clusters.
The wheelhouses roll in, the Lannister's first and the Reynes following. Tyland watches the wheelhouse eagerly. The closer he gets to seeing his family, the more his body almost vibrates. While he came here with a purpose all those years ago, he still misses his family, even Jason on occasion. He cannot say he misses everyone from Casterly Rock; a good portion of why he left is because of the people. Jason being named heir over him still stings on occasion, and the treatment after absolutely hurts. He consoles himself with his position now, but some damages cannot be undone.
Johanna exits the wheelhouse first. She looks much the same as Tyland remembers, the only sign of the years passing the wrinkles on her face. Tymon and Cerelle both stand taller than Tyland expects. He accounts for some growth, given it'd been several years since he's last laid eyes upon them, but he didn't prepare himself enough. Tymon stands almost as tall as Jason. In stature, he looks much like his father, but his eyes and facial features are more Johanna’s. Cerelle appears much the same as Tymon. Yet as Tyland looks at them, the difference between the two couldn't be plainer. 
It's in their eyes.
Both exit with the appropriate amount of decorum. Both behave exactly as they should. Yet Tymon almost smirks as he observes the crowd, his eyes lighting in an almost cruel way, a shark surveying for his next meal. By contrast, Cerelle's cool appraisal, while still an assessment, comes off as more intrigued than anything else. She surveys everyone with an air of excitement. When her eyes land on Tyland, Cerelle smiles. She smiles at him exactly the way she did when she was a young girl, eagerly greeting him and plying him with questions about King's Landing. Tyland smiles softly back. 
Otto and Alicent greet Johanna first. Tyland stands back and awaits his turn, content on observing for now. While speaking with Johanna is one of his priorities, it isn't as if another opportunity won't present itself. Besides, if his nearly 20 years of being at court has taught him anything, appearing too eager to speak with someone will not only raise eyebrows but also invite unwanted eavesdroppers when the important conversion occurs. 
When Johanna turns away from Otto and Alicent and towards him, Tyland takes his cue. He steps forward.
“Johanna.”
“Tyland.” Johanna’s tone warms up when she addresses him. They step towards each other but remain the appropriate distance apart, although the distance is still much closer than Johanna stands to most. “It is good to see you.”
“ ‘Tis good to see you as well. It has been far too long.”
“Uncle.” Tymon steps forward, hands clasped behind his back. “You look well.”
Were Tyland a fool, he might believe Tymon's words. Unfortunately for Tymon, Tyland was not born yesterday. While Tymon's tone is convincing, he nearly looks through Tyland. Tyland suspects he only doesn't because he is kin. 
“Tymon. As do you. You are much taller than I remember.”
Irritation flashes briefly through Tymon's eyes, not true anger but the aggravation of talking with a doddering relative. It hurts for a second, but Tyland pushes past it. While it does sting, being seen as old is to his advantage; Tymon will stay out of his way if he perceives Tyland as useless. Guilt briefly washes over Tyland. Assuming the worst of family isn't a good look. 
“Uncle!” Cerelle nearly chirps. She sounds genuine in her greeting unlike her brother. Out of the pair, Cerelle holds a soft spot in Tyland’s heart. He suspects she exploits it on occasion, as young adult are wont to do, but he doesn't mind as much as he should. Cerelle at least has the decency to treat him as family, no matter how long it's been since he's last seen them. 
“Cerelle. ‘Tis good to see you. Your mother told me you have good news?”
“I do. ‘Tis very exciting news.” Cerelle nearly beams. Tymon's upper lip twitches.
“We both have exciting news.” Tymon corrects Cerelle. 
“And I am at liberty to discuss mine.” Cerelle's matter of fact tone nearly makes Tyland raise an eyebrow. He looks at Johanna out of the corner of his eyes, wondering the exact nature of Tymon's news. Johanna’s displeasure is brief but strong. Tymon must catch it for he smiles, stiff but a smile nonetheless. 
“Forgive me. Your news is more pertinent.” 
Interesting. Tymon sounds surprisingly sincere, which feels at odds with the knowledge his apology isn't of his own volition. Still, Tyland zeroes in on the slight smirk, a brief twitch of Tymon's lips betraying him. 
Perhaps it's best Tymon sees him as useless and aging. 
The footman announces the beginning of the Reynes leaving their wheelhouse. Cerelle and Tymon slot themselves neatly beside Johanna and Tyland. 
Tyland finds himself waiting with almost baited breath. However long it has been since he's seen his family, it's been much longer since he's seen Lord Reyne. Rumors swirl about Alon's health. Normally, Tyland pays them no heed, but given he has the opportunity to find out for himself, he is a little curious. 
Alon demounts.
The rumors clearly come from how Alon looks. Alon stands much taller than most normally, but he almost seems shorter today. Tyland almost raises an eyebrow when he sees Alon with a cane. A quick glance over at Johanna confirms Tyland isn't seeing things; Johanna turns her head at the same time Tyland does and nods when Tyland does lift an eyebrow. She doesn't mouth anything yet her look conveys it all. Johanna shall tell him about it when she gets the chance. Tyland turns his attention back to the wheelhouse.
Hopefully all isn't as it seems. Alon sits at nearly 30 years of ruling Castamere, longer than many live. His death portends changes, no doubt massive ones. Tyland glances over at Otto. Of course, when those changes happen, Tyland will be questioned. He purses his lips together. He must speak with Alon anyway. It might be prudent to go out of his way to befriend Alon. Certainly, he doesn't think it would hurt.
Elayna is next to exit the wheelhouse. When Elayna descends, Tyland’s gaze focuses on her. A quiet feeling builds within his gut. Without speaking a word to her, Tyland instinctively knows Elayna would ruin him were he a younger man. She's gorgeous, and the way she carries herself makes it clear she is aware of this fact. Watching her brings memories of the women his age at Casterly Rock, the ones who marry early because many sought them out. 
She surveys the crowd with an air of nervousness and excitement in equal measure, but Tyland sees a quiet coldness lurking beneath the surface. It's in her eyes. They're wide with awe yet it isn't fixed. When her eyes move from person to person, the awe and apprehension slip, not overt enough most would notice but enough Tyland notes it. The look is no longer alarming but almost familiar, stirring a sense of recognition within him. 
Elayna counts. Elayna counts like him.
Elayna sits with her own abacus, pulling the people along the track into where she thinks they belong. Obviously, others do the same. Sitting on the Small Council gives Tyland a perfect view of how many people scheme and plot here, but they move people differently than him. Tyland stares at Elayna for a moment, waiting for the expression to return. Words aren't his speciality, numbers are, meaning he couldn't explain why he recognizes she moves people like him, at least on the initial step. Yet he feels it within his bones and chest, sensation spreading from his heart and disseminating outward, she's like him. 
Still, the worry from earlier gnaws at him, tempering his elation. Her counting is merely the first step, how she sorts and what she does are two different steps entirely. As surely as he recognizes Elayna is like him, he also sees the differences begin. Being wanted by others sets them apart. Tyland hears of it happening every year, how young men and women who are desired become different once they realize the hold they have over others. 
“Don't let her smile fool you.” Tymon's voice nearly makes Tyland jump. He realizes, rather belated, he was staring at Elayna. Tyland turns his head. Tymon keeps his gaze forward. “She may seem friendly, but I assure you, she is not.”
“Oh?” Tyland arches an eyebrow. 
“Yes. I made the mistake of befriending Elayna before I truly got to know her, and while Lord Reyne is content with his position, his daughter strives for more. If you understand my meaning.” Tymon sniffs. “I don't like using the word ambitious towards women because it seems... ugly.”
It seems Johanna wasn't exaggerating in her letter. Tyland merely nods.
“I see.”
What can he say to such a statement? Tymon presses his lips together. He stares at Alon and Elayna, watching intently as both Queen Alicent and Otto greet them. Tymon exhales after a long minute. His fingers flex against his sides. 
“Cerelle will corroborate.”
Of course Tyland gazes at Cerelle, intent on gauging her reaction. Much to his surprise, Cerelle looks at Elayna with a strangely wistful expression, one Tyland is intimately acquainted with. Cerelle clears her throat. 
“Perhaps we should speak with others. I don't wish to monopolize your time, Uncle.” Cerelle's mask falls perfectly into place, an excited young girl once more. Tyland turns towards Johanna.
“Shall we have supper together? Tomorrow night?”
Tyland offers not only out of politeness but also curiosity. It gives him an excuse to pry and find out more, unearth the history clearly at play here. Besides, Johanna will no doubt want to speak with him as soon as possible. Johanna dips her head. 
“Yes. That would be nice.” 
The three of them move towards the next group. Tyland presses his lips together. Already, he must exchange his abacus for a more useful instrument. These new pieces of information cannot be slid, he must analyze them. 
The sound of a cane on stone makes him turn. Alon and Elayna approach him, Ryman lingering behind them. 
“Ser Tyland. It has been quite some time.”
“Lord Reyne. It has indeed.”
“This is my daughter, Elayna.” Alon gestures to Elayna. Elayna curtsies. Tyland dips his head in response. When she stands once more, their eyes meet. Tyland waits with baited breath for a sign, an indication, she recognizes they are alike in some manner. The hope is juvenile, a fleeting and foolish emotion, but it burns within him.
He sees it. Tyland’s eyes catch hers as she appraises him. Her eyes widen, guilt crossing her face. Tyland smiles, not for politeness sake but to ease her worries. Elayna blinks. He almost sees her breath catch in her throat and then release, shoulders dropping a fraction. The recognition creeps into her hazel eyes. Tyland’s heart speeds up.
“It is an honor to meet you. Lady Johanna speaks very highly of you.”
Elayna's voice is lower pitched than he expects but not unpleasantly so. Quite the opposite, in fact. Much to his surprise, he hears more of a Castamere accent than a Casterly Rock one, and it sends a small bit of warmth through his body. 
“I'm heartened to hear that.” Tyland murmurs. “She has spoke of you to me as well. She says you've been an excellent friend to my niece.”
Elayna positively beams at his words. A strange ache forms within Tyland’s chest at the sight and blooms outward, filling him with a pleasant, almost buzzing, sensation. The corners of his lips lift, curling into a small smile in response.
"You flatter me.” Elayna tucks a stray strand of hair back into her braid. She looks at him from beneath her eyelashes for the briefest of seconds. 
“I speak the truth.”
Elayna grins. She ducks her head in an attempt to hide it. Alon gently clears his throat. The throat clear is meant for Elayna, and she straightens up at it. Still, her smile remains. It sends blossoming warmth through his entire body. Alon steps forward. 
“When you have the chance, I should like to catch up more fully with you.” Alon keeps his voice low. Elayna stays back a pace, but her head turns towards her father, clearly wanting to know what he's saying. Tyland nods. 
“Of course. If your travels were not too strenuous, perhaps we can do so this afternoon?” Johanna’s letter tells him what she wants from him but Alon's intent remains a mystery. This piece of information means he can better approach what Johanna asks of him. 
“That sounds excellent to me.” Alon nods, lifting his cane slightly and rapping it on the ground. “Perhaps we can meet while the girls settle in? It will take me less time to get comfortable.”
“I have some work I must do, but once it is done, I shall let you know.”
“Excellent.” Alon steps back. “I shall see you later today then.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Ser Tyland.” Elayna curtsies.
“The pleasure is all mine.” 
Elayna's eyes light up with delight, her cheeks turning slightly pink. Pride surges through Tyland. Her reaction is genuine, and the realization makes his head spin slightly. Jason gets those sorts of reactions, never him. Alon begins walking, and Elayna dutifully follows, keeping close to his elbow. 
A squeal of delight interrupts his reverie. He turns. Elayna steps away from Alon as Abrogail runs towards her. The cousins meet in the middle, both of them eagerly clasping the other's forearm. They chatter excitedly. Alon shakes his head, but even from behind, Tyland senses it's a fond head shake. He turns his attention towards the cousins. 
He studies them closely. Abrogail and Prince Aegon are close, close enough people talk. He suspects within the next two or three years, the idea of marriage between the two will surface. Even if it doesn't, it's obvious Abby will always have Aegon's ear, whether she is aware of it or not. 
If Elayna and Abby remain close, then Elayna may have an indirect line to Aegon. While Viserys still lives, Rhaenyra sits as heir, but all her legitimacy dies in the eyes of the Small Council when Viserys does. None of them speak it outright yet moves are made every day for this inevitability. A line to the future King would never hurt. Certainly, it would aid Tyland’s ten year plan. 
Another bead slides. 
********************************************
His brief conversation with Elayna lingers in his mind as he goes about his duties the rest of the day. 
Several fruitless hours pass.
Tyland stares at the ledger in front of him. Ordinarily, he distracts himself after an important conversation, finding he gains more after he gives himself time. Reviewing a conversation too soon leads to obsessing over what was said and unsaid, which, ironically, means he misses the key points because he bogs himself down in the minutiae. Yet he cannot think of anything else. All he pictures is Elayna's smile.
Maybe this is beneficial. Meeting her does change how he views Johanna’s letter. He is only a man; bright eyes, a pretty smile, and sincere flattery do work wonders. However, as much as he is taken with Elayna's appearance, and he is taken he cannot deny it, he keeps the warnings in mind as well.  More accurately, Tyland reminds himself of Johanna’s words, not Tymon's.
Tymon may be blood, but blood doesn't guarantee brains. Tymon's youth also factors in Tyland’s opinions. Tymon is barely ten and eight, what can he possibly know? Tyland isn't entirely unsympathetic, truly. He remembers what it was like when he came to King's Landing, only ten and nine, a year older than Tymon. Tyland winces softly as a particularly embarrassing memory comes forward. 
Tyland sighs. After a second, he caves to his desires and rubs small circles on his temple, even though it won't alleviate the pressure. Of course, it cannot be simple. Nothing directly involving him ever can be, despite his best efforts. He rests his hands on the table in front of him, careful of the ink in the ledger. After a moment, he exhales and looks towards the ceiling.
No answers come. No divine inspiration strikes. No help in any shape arrives. Tyland closes his eyes. Once again, he must come up with his own solutions and deliver himself. 
Speaking with Alon is a start. Tyland opens his eyes, nodding softly. All he needs is a starting place. While he loathes not having a concrete plan of action, it makes him quite literally itch on occasion, he doesn't have enough information for a plan. He needs cursory research, and meeting with Alon provides it.
Tyland gathers himself. At supper, he shall glean more information, learn what he can. A single stray tidbit may aid his cause and center him, give him direction and purpose. The meeting with Alon will be of tremendous help; knowing Alon's plan will, at the very least, give him a bargain chip. 
Tyland stands up, closing the ledger. Surely Alon is settled by now. He could wait, he supposes, but the thought doesn't sit right within him. 
The walk to Alon's apartments doesn't take him as long as he expects. Alon’s position gives him a more than decent apartment, so Tyland doesn't have far to travel. 
Alon greets him cordially. He stands without aid but stays close to the wall. Weariness clings to him like a coat. Without the pressure of presentations and greeting, Alon relaxes. Tyland notes the bags under Alon's eyes and the slight discomfort and stiffness in his posture. 
“Ser Tyland.” 
“Lord Reyne. I hope I'm not disturbing you.” Tyland pauses. “If you are not quite settled in yet, I don't mind speaking at a later time. We do not have to make time now.”
He does mind. Alon’s condition is the reason he offers. Alon shakes his head almost vehemently. 
“Nonsense. I will always make time for those from home. Certainly, I shall make time for an esteemed member of the Small Council.” He steps aside, and Tyland enters.
“How are you finding things here? Are they as you remember when you were younger?” 
Alon shakes his head, letting out a soft laugh. 
“Things are quite... different. I don't recall the Faith of the Seven having as much hold, but. My memory may be failing me in my old age.” Alon keeps his face impassive and schooled, but a slight glimmer in his eyes betrays him. Tyland lowers his head and presses his lips together in a bid to keep his expression neutral. 
“My memory must be failing me as well then.”
A hiccup of a laugh escapes Alon, lips twitching. He presses them together. The barely suppressed grin betrays him trying not to laugh. After a moment, he clears his throat. Warm civility falls naturally into place. 
“Prithee, come in. Have a seat.” Alon gestures towards the main room of the apartment. Tyland steps forward and further into the space. Despite it being early in Alon's stay, Tyland glances around the area. Living spaces often tell much about a person. A book case catches his attention. It stands mostly empty except for several books on the top shelf. They're old and worn, not doubt memorized from how many times they've been read.
“ ‘Tis actually fortuitous you came by. I was about to come speak with you myself.” Tyland turns his attention back to Alon. Alon gestures towards one of the highball chairs. Tyland takes a seat, Alon following and sitting in the chair across from him. 
“Yes. I am sorry about the delay. Several matters were more complicated than I thought initially.”
“I figured as much. As Master of Ships, you must be busy.”
Tyland nearly preens at the mention of his title. He is but a man, and while he pretends otherwise, flattery and recognition of his status do grease the wheels. He clears his throat and sits up a little straighter. 
“You said you wished to speak with me?” Tyland settles his hands in his lap. 
“I did.” Alon dips his head. “ ‘Tis about my daughter.”
“I see. Johanna said you might wish to speak about Elayna.” 
“Did she now?” Alon raises an eyebrow. Tyland tries his best not to swallow or stumble.
“Nothing bad. She merely suggested it. She seems to think I might be of use. I actually wanted to speak with you myself about it so I may know more.” Tyland watches Alon carefully. “She did not elaborate much on the issue. Out of deference to you, I assume.”
“Johanna is very proactive. I do wish she had informed me she was writing you. To answer your question, we both wanted to talk to you about Elayna's future.” Alon stops. He presses his lips together as he carefully selects his next sentence. “I need someone to watch Elayna while she is here. Someone who will keep her on the right path.” 
Alon opens his mouth and then stops. A brief look of concern crosses his face before a loud, harsh cough escapes him. The sound comes from deep within his throat, and Tyland leans forward, ready to call a Maester at any moment. Alon manages to reach for his drink with unsteady hands. As he does, his sleeve falls down his arm some, revealing dark and angry bruises. Tyland’s eyes flick from the bruising to Alon's face. Alon drinks deeply and greedily before setting down his goblet. When Alon lowers the goblet, Tyland catches the smell of the concoction, heart dropping some at the implications. The look must show on his face for Alon sighs. 
“I bruise rather easily these days. ‘Tis no one's fault but my own.”
“You should have the maesters take a look at them.” Tyland frowns. Alon waves him away. 
“The maesters have more important people to attend to.” Despite Tyland’s position, the authority in Alon's voice keeps his mouth shut. Tyland leans back in the chair. Alon coughs once more, this one not as violent. He clears his throat after, the look of irritation on his face one Tyland understands.
"I know it is a lot to ask. But I would not ask if it wasn't important.” Alon's voice comes out strained. Tyland leans forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs. 
"Your illness has progressed, hasn't it?" 
Between the strong herbal stench coming from Alon's drink and the loss of vitality, Tyland feels confident in what the answer will be. Alon’s frail state all but confirms his suspicions. Still, he needs to hear it from Alon. Alon presses his lips together. He looks away for a moment before letting out a sigh. 
"The maesters say I will be lucky if I see next summer." He scoffs. "They know much, but I know my body and my will better than them. I have two more winters in me." He turns his attention back to Tyland. "Two winters isn't as much as I would like. I need to ensure Elayna's security before then. You're the only one I trust to treat her properly.”
Tyland blinks. He pauses and then clears his throat. As Alon's only daughter, Alon is always fiercely protective of Elayna. Pride swells within him but doesn't go far as his brain recalls Johanna’s letter. Alon isn't putting forth a betrothal but mentorship.
 “If it is truly so much of a-”
“No!” Tyland pauses. “No, I mean. Yes. Yes, I will watch her, it would not be a burden. I merely...” Tyland stops. He tries collecting his words. Alon raises an eyebrow in vague amusement. “Why ask me? Would it not make more sense to betroth her to someone and have them ensure her safety?”
Alon dips his head. He presses his lips together and drums his fingers on his lap for a second. Eventually, he gathers the correct words.
“ ‘Tis hard to explain to someone without children, but. No matter how well you treat them and try to do what's best for them. Occasionally, instead of doing right by them, you wrong them. I fear I err'ed in my judgement. It was what was best at the time yet I don't find solace in that knowledge. I... I do not wish for Elayna's last memories of me to be me doing wrong by her again.” 
Alon's voice cracks, tears welling up in his eyes. A surge of panic briefly overtakes Tyland. Should he... does he comfort Alon or avert his eyes and pretend he never saw? Alon sighs. He closes his eyes, and when he reopens them, clears his throat. Full dignity and determination return to his voice, an even keel once more. 
“She is prideful and stubborn, which means finding her a lord husband is no easy task. Too many men see a difficult woman and see something either to be tamed or broken. My daughter will not receive the same treatment as an errant horse. I also know if she doesn't want to do something, she will make it quite difficult.” He lets out a dry laugh. “She comes by it honestly. Her sin is my sin. It must be her decision, or at least appear to be her decision.”
Alon fixes Tyland with a look piercing into Tyland’s very soul. His green eyes see through Tyland's physical body and into his character. Instead of shrinking back, Tyland meets him evenly. He keeps his gaze on Alon's, unblinking. Whatever Alon seeks, he shall not find it in a man who shrinks before him; Tyland shall meet Alon where he stands. Alon nods and blinks once, the silent and wordless approval sending a rush of pride and euphoria through Tyland.
“I know we haven't spoken in many years, but you would not be where you are if you weren't patient and reasonable. Elayna needs a guiding hand. I trust you. I trust you to keep her even keeled, and I trust you to give her sound advice. I don't want someone with their own ambitions clouding her judgement. She has enough of them on her own.”
This time, Tyland allows himself to preen. His chest puffs out slightly, and he lifts his head a little higher. His spine softly cracks as he sits up a little straighter. 
“I appreciate your words.” He murmurs, attempting to downplay his reaction. Alon’s eyes sparkle.
“I speak only the truth.”
Tyland clears his throat. Alon’s praise feels genuine, and for once in his life, Tyland isn't sure what to do. He falls back onto the tried and true scripts. 
“I am honored you asked me. I shall ensure Elayna makes the best decisions.”
“Excellent.” Alon smiles. It's a genuine smile, full of warmth and appreciation. “It should not be too difficult. I also asked Lia to keep an eye on Elayna as well for when Johanna returns to Casterly Rock.”
Tyland leans forward despite himself. He arches an eyebrow.
“Lia?”
“Yes.”
“I'm not sure I follow your logic.” Tyland tilts his head slightly. Alon’s eyes glitter.
“You are more than suited to guide Elayna through most of the political world, but parts of it neither you nor I can teach. And as much as I respect Lady Johanna, her politics are more suited to Casterly Rock.” 
Tyland takes a moment, absorbing Alon's words. It makes sense. Tyland can help guide Elayna through certain decisions based on what he knows about the people around him, but she would need another woman's help when it comes to balancing the heart with reality. Slowly, Tyland sits upright. He nods, an impressed expression slipping onto his face. Alon continuously surprises him. 
“I must confess. I never would have thought of that.” 
“ ‘Tis my job as a father to think of these things.” Alon smiles at the compliment nevertheless. 
“I'm sure she appreciates it.” Tyland murmurs. He watches more weariness seep into Alon's being. Alon coughs again, this one not as severe as earlier but nevertheless painful. He clears his throat. 
“I am sorry to say this, but I fear my travels are finally catching up to me.” Alon's voice comes out a bit strained and weak, a bit of exhaustion creeping into it. 
“I understand. It is long trip.” Tyland stands slowly. Alon starts as well, but Tyland stops him. “You need your rest. I can see myself out.”
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rainwingmarvel7 · 2 months ago
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Happy holidays @queen--kenobi! Here’s a moodboard of your lovely girl Elayna as a little gift!❤️
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sikudastoner · 3 months ago
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(@queen--kenobi) Mabel and Elayna's kids natch hehehe
Ughhhh I was gonna send a Mabel x Elayna x Tyland ask first. You beat me to it 😔.
Name: Walden Reyne.
Gender: Male
General appearance: His mothers look almost like sisters, so I imagine he’s like them but tall or average height (Mabel is tall, I forgot how tall Elayna is but she gives tall girl energy.) He definitely has Mabel’s unibrow but she shaves or plucks it everyday. I’m not saying Tyland has a type… I’m just saying…
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Personality: Oh god, a spoiled brat. Mabel is incapable of saying no and he inherited Elayna’s brattiness. Otherwise, I think he’s a sweetheart, mayhaps a bit of a gentleman? I think he’s got two awesome moms so not much could go wrong. Very charming. He’s like Randel and does everything in his strength to not become Tymon.
Special Talents: Card games and gambling.
Who they like better: Mabel, it’s easier to manipulate her into getting what he wants.
Who they take after more: Elayna
Personal headcanon: I feel like his gaydar is unmatched and undefeated. @ tymon lannister you can fool all of westeros but you can’t fool Walden.
Faceclaim: Josh Whitehouse
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writingbylee · 2 years ago
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Run Home, Lion Cub
Rating: Mature
CW/TW: violence, language, guns, Tymon Lannister (cause that man needs his own warning)
lots of love and hugs to @queenopresskenobi for letting me be a part of this world and write for her amazing characters!! if you want to read more from this Western AU, definitely check out her My Dear Elayna series!!
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divider by @samspenandsword
“Howdy.” Lyanna said as she pulled the door open, a smile creeping across her face.
Her black bandana had been pulled under her chin, but her hat blocked her eyes. Tymon Lannister sputtered as he went backwards down the front steps and back with the men he brought with him.
“You’re not…” Lyanna heard someone in the crowd say and she snorted.
“How embarrassing this must be for you, lion cub, to fail so spectacularly.” Lyanna tilted her head up ever so slightly so they could all see the glint in her eyes as she rested a hand on one of her revolvers and started casually tapping her fingers against it.
“We have no quarrel with you, Stark.” Tymon called and Lyanna let out a low chuckle at that. Her off hand was slung on the front of her belt, and she kept her good hand hovering over the revolver.
“You sure about that, lion cub?” She watched as Tymon bristled at being called a cub. “Last I recall, you shot one of my men. Not to mention…” Lyanna trailed off as she looked at the crowd behind Tymon with their torches and pitchforks.
“Where is Elayna, Stark?” Tymon spat it out in the air, as if Lyanna’s last name was an insult.
“Oh, the woman who left your slimy ass at the altar?” Lyanna’s voice was full of mockery. “She’s right where she belongs. Out of your reach. So I suggest you take these men and get off this goddamn property.” Lyanna kept politely smiling, as if this was a conversation she had everyday. Her off hand didn’t move from the front of her belt, but she twitched the fingers of her good hand over her revolver. Some of the men in the crowd took a step back at the motion. Lyanna’s smile curled away from politeness and bent towards cruel.
“You’ll regret this, Stark.” Tymon called and Lyanna laughed.
“Oh I surely doubt that, lion cub.” Lyanna said. After a tense moment of silence, she used her off hand and drew her revolver. Before any of Tymon’s men could react, Lyanna had already fired, shooting Tymon in the shin. He cried out in pain as his leg crumpled beneath him, and one of his men grabbed under his arm to keep him standing. “Now get!” Lyanna raised her voice, gun still pointed at Tymon. “Before I decide to start aiming higher.” Tymon grumbled and motioned for his men to get back on their horses. “Seban!” Lyanna called out, and a man with a dark beard stopped moving and barely turned to face her. “I have a letter for you. From your sister.” Lyanna tossed the letter out into the still night and Seban walked the few steps to pick it up from the ground.
“Thank you.” Seban said it so quietly that Lyanna almost missed it. She gave him a nod and then turned her attention back to the rest of the men.
“Run home, lion cub!” Lyanna called out in Tymon’s direction. “Do me a favor, spit on Tywin’s grave when you get there?” Lyanna smiled again at Tymon’s tense posture on his horse as he whipped his head around to glare at her.
“Lyanna.” She heard Will whisper from the window behind her. “That was uncalled for.” She shrugged and kept her gaze forward.
“Eh. Worth it.”
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divider by @samspenandsword
Follow @princess-lyanna-stark for more about Lyanna Stark!!
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lady--elayna · 2 years ago
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Okay but Elayna and Tyland getting into a fight in the modern AU when Elayna gets her memories back
"You never loved me!" Elayna spits. She intends for the words to be venom, but they come out open wounds. "You loved what I could do for you! You loved what I would do! You loved the fact I lo- I cared about you!"
Tyland watches her, unmoving from his seat on the edge of the bed. His hands remain on his thighs.
"Are you quite done?"
Elayna laughs.
"Fuck you. Don't you fucking hide from me. Not now. I've seen you, the real you."
"If you had, you would know what you said was a lie." His mask breaks for a second.
"Is it, though? Because you don't do anything without looking at the future, at getting what you want."
Tyland sighs.
"Do you want honesty? Or do you want to be angry?"
Elayna almost recoils. Tyland shifts. He seems almost in pain, as if he doesn't want to speak but feels compelled. He must be. Being open after hiding who he really was from everyone must hurt. His fingers twitch.
"You're partially right. At first, that was the goal. I saw in you what I needed. I needed a good wife, one who was devoted and smart. One who could play the game without getting both of us caught." Tyland breathes through his nose. "I thought I would like you enough to do my duties as your husband. I didn't think I'd love you."
His admission makes her skip and then double beat.
"I knew I was more fond of you than I should be. You took me by surprise." Tyland purses his lips. "I didn't realize how fo- that I loved you until you came back married to Aemond." He moves his hand to his hair, running his fingers through it before bunching it at the back. He drops his hand. He shakes his head. "Tymon was not the only Lannister upset."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"It wouldn't have mattered. Nothing could be done." His lips curl. "Aemond also would have had my head. That would have complicated things."
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princess-lyanna-stark · 2 years ago
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hi today i’m thinking about Modern AU Lyanna and Elayna getting absolutely trashed in their college apartment with Helaena on a Friday night
only to wake up Saturday morning and run a sixteen mile training run for the NYC marathon in two months
to then finish their run and immediately go to their favorite brunch spot to get tipsy on bottomless mimosas
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queen--kenobi · 1 year ago
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!!!!!!!!! YES! YES YES YES
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cesare paciotti shoes with tiny swords on them!
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rainwingmarvel7 · 4 months ago
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I'm gonna cheat and offer Elayna BUT. I want to know who you think she'd have the most interesting dynamic with
(Hi it's @queen--kenobi sdasd being perceived on main)
Ok what’s really funny about this is that I was actually going to send you an ask about Elayna right before you sent this😂
I was gonna say Kaleb for this but since I asked you about them I’m gonna go with someone else, just for fun (but I definitely think she’d have the most interesting dynamic with him, I just wanna do something different lol)
Elayna + Therese
The brat best friends. Therese and Elayna are the girls with the most attitude in the Red Keep, and everyone knows it. They can bond over the drama they have with the Targtowers, especially Aemond. Now, Therese being a Targaryen might cause some drama on its own, but I wouldn’t imagine it being that much of a deal, except maybe until the Dance starts. But like, they absolutely would gossip together and judge everyone because they can. I just think they’d vibe honestly, at least for a little while.
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lady--elayna · 2 years ago
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Elayna's phone rings.
She nearly jolts at the sound. Alon doesn't stir. His chest rises and falls with regularity. Elayna grabs her phone, fully intending on ignoring the call. The name flashing across her screen makes her pause.
Katie, one of the younger nurses, walks by at that moment. Perhaps she came over to check on Elayna.
"We'll watch him." She offers.
"Thank you." Elayna stands. She accepts the call as she heads towards the doors. Alon taught her to always take calls outside when in public places, so as not to disturb anyone else.
"Hello?"
"Miss Reyne." Tyland's voice greets her from the other end. His tone is almost bland.
"Mr. Lannister." Elayna makes her way out of the chemo ward. "How are you? I heard you're back in Paris."
"Yes. I arrived last week." Tylands hums. "I must say, I could be better."
"Oh? What's wrong?"
"I just got a troubling call from Jason." Tyland keeps his tone friendly and approachable. "He says he had a meeting with the Targaryens, and we lost our contract."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Oh, I don't think it's news to you." Ah. Elayna smirks to herself. That's the crack in his benign bean counter facade she wants to see. "He said we lost the contract to Castamere Financial. More specifically, we lost it to you."
"To me?" Elayna hums. She walks out into the hospital courtyard. "That's very flattering, but everything is still run by my father."
"Jason seemed under the impression it was to you."
"I will be working closely with the Targaryens, yes. But that does not mean it was lost specifically to me or because of me."
Tyland makes a small noise over the phone. "I see."
"You know Otto Hightower is a fickle bitch. He probably got upset with Jason and decided to punish him."
"Oh, I have no doubt Jason upset him." Tyland sounds almost amused. "I talked to Otto as soon as I heard. He says you were the one who brought Jason's indiscretions to light."
Elayna rolls her eyes. She barely stops herself from muttering something derogatory about Otto. "You make it sound as if I tattled. All I did was bring up concerns, but they were not why the meeting was called."
Tyland makes a low noise, one indicating he's not convinced.
"I didn't know the meeting was even happening until last week. I didn't even know I was to do anything other than be there until today." She offers. "I thought I was just along to ease any future transitions."
"So you didn't know you were tapped to work with them?"
"I didn't." Of course Elayna had her suspicions. She never asked, though. Mostly so she could answer this question honestly and in a way that made her not a threat.
Tyland stays silent for a moment. She wonders... If circumstances were different, what would he say? She finds for the briefest of moments she wants his verbal approval, like she used to get.
"Do you need to talk Jason off a ledge?" She teases to fill the space.
"No. He merely asked me to talk some sense into you. If that hasn't worked by now, I'm afraid it never will."
Elayna places a hand over her heart.
"You wound me."
"Yes, the truth can hurt." Tyland hums. "How is your father?"
Elayna swallows.
"Are you asking in a business capacity or friend capacity?"
"Friend."
"As well as can be expected."
"And if I said I was asking in a business capacity?"
"As well as can be expected."
Tyland lets out a low chuckle. "It sounds as if you don't trust me."
"It’s more..." Elayna sighs. "I don't particularly want to talk about it." She stops. "That, and I don't trust you right now."
"Probably wise."
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princess-lyanna-stark · 2 years ago
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hi today i’m thinking about all the similarities between Lyanna and Elayna cause on the surface they seem like such different people but they really aren’t
how they both are close to their fathers
how they both pine after their soulmates because they think they are unlovable
how in the Western AU, they both get monikers and become infamous
how in the modern AU, they both end up with “failed engagements”
how in canon they’re still connected, 100s of years apart, through the fact that they both become Queens, not for power but to protect their families
i just love them
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queen--kenobi · 1 year ago
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I got Keira Knightley for Elayna Reyne, Brandon Sklenar for Tymon Lannister, and Pzm Grier for Kau'ra!
For fun anonymously (or not) recast a faceclaim for my OC.
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queen--kenobi · 5 months ago
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SCREAMING AND CRYING I got both my commissions from @felrija back, and y'all!!! I cannot express how much I love them, these are both absolutely perfect. They are absolutely gorgeous and just... exactly what I pictured
I cannot get over how in love Tyland looks with Elayna in the first one, and the second one is just !!! Oh I love how both Elayna and Cerelle look, and how they're looking at each other and I just !!!!!!!! Thank you so much
I put the reference photos under the cut so y'all can see how amazing these are. Genuinely I cannot express how perfect they are and how much I love them I literally want to frame them
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queen--kenobi · 7 months ago
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Wheel of Fortune: Prologue
Story summary: Elayna Reyne often imagines herself being someone and making a name for herself but only in the way young girls do. Unfortunately, when Elayna makes her way to King's Landing as one of Cerelle Lannister's ladies-in-waiting, Elayna finds dreams come with a price.
Pairings: Cerelle Lannister x OFC (Elayna Reyne), OC (Tymon Lannister) x OFC (Elayna Reyne), eventual Tyland Lannister x OC
Chapter summary: News finds its way to Elayna. Some of it is good but most of it is bad. Elayna learns when it rains, it pours.
Chapter warnings: implied NSFT (wlw action, BDSM themes, D/s dynamics), discussions of domestic violence, some suicidal ideation, and sexual harassment. Also Tymon. Yeah, a lot for a prologue I know.
Author's note: Hi hello it's finally here! I know it's taken 5ever and a day, but it's here! I'm so excited to introduce everyone to Elayna in canon and Tymon as well. I want to thank @writingbylee for being my cheerleader and helping me since day one with Elayna you have no idea how much that means to me. I also want to thank @baba-fett and @emilykaldwen for being willing to listen to me try and figure all this out
Waves crash against the unyielding cliffside.
Elayna sighs. She looks down to the waters below. Jagged rocks stick up from the ocean, the edges sharp and dangerous despite the weathering. Elayna tilts her head. In the dying light, the areas where the rocks cluster almost look like teeth to her, the giant gaping maw of an unknown beast.
What would it be like to die upon those rocks?
What would it be like to kill someone upon the rocks? How long would someone suffer in the blistering sun and salty air? Would they die upon impact, or would it break their back and render them immobile, unable to stop the slow creeping of the Stranger?
She bites the inside of her lip. The pain stops the morbid thoughts, she finds. More and more as of late, her brain keeps coming back to them. They circle her brain like vultures awaiting the dying. Elayna closes her eyes and inhales slowly. Some days, she cannot tell if she wishes to kill or be killed. She thinks it is the latter of the two. She has no true wish to die, only to escape her suffering. Her life has become a prison she cannot escape from no matter how much she tries.
Then again. Is it truly a prison when she has willingly given her captor the keys? When the prison is of her own making?
She exhales. She pauses and rubs her face. 
If only she could talk to Cerelle. If only she could make her see...
“Elayna!”
The familiar voice makes Elayna's hairs stand on end. Elayna wants to ignore him. Maybe he'll go away if she pretends he isn't there. Of course, it has never stopped him before, so why would it now? Slowly, Elayna lifts her head.
Tymon walks towards her. He seems to be in a good mood. A smile graces his features. The wind blows his hair gently. Elayna looks at his eyes. His eyes turn first when he's angry; he can keep the smile up and make it seem genuine even when his eyes make it clear he wants nothing more than to commit an act of unspeakable violence just by looking him in the eye. His jaw betrays him next. 
His smile is always the last thing to go. 
“Tymon.” Elayna tries her best to answer his smile. She tries to force it to reach her eyes. It feels too tight, too fake. A surge of panic overtakes her. What if he sees it's fake? Will he ignore it? Will he pretend to not see it until he can use her lack of enthusiasm against her? What if it provokes his ire? She blinks. Her eyes must show her fear, she can't have that. 
Tymon laughs. When Elayna opens her eyes, she sees him holding his hands up. 
“Woah.” He sounds as if he is calming down a spooked horse, not a human being. She can hear the clear amusement in his tone. Elayna bites down on the inside of her cheek. She cannot sneer at him; no one else is around, and she is too close to the edge of the parapet. Despite her early thoughts, Elayna has no desire to be pushed off the castle.
“I did not mean to startle you. My sincerest apologies.”
“Think nothing of it. I was just under the impression I was alone.”
“One might begin to think you want to be alone.” Tymon stops right beside her. The sleeve of his doublet almost brushes against the sleeve of her dress. Elayna's skin crawls. “I noticed you left particularly early.”
“I needed some fresh air is all.” Elayna looks out towards the sea. “I spoke with Jeyne Marbrand. The incense they use in their Sept must be quite... strong.”
Elayna sniffs delicately as if to prove her point. Tymon lets out a small chuckle. He places his forearms on the low wall. 
“Yes, I have noticed that as well.” Tymon turns his head to the side. His green eyes inspect her. “Where is Cerelle? I thought if I found you, I might find her.”
Elayna swallows.
“Cerelle is talking with one of the Tarbeck daughters, I believe.” Gods above, she hates she knows this. “There's talk of one of them being brought in as one of Tyshara's ladies.”
Tymon hums. He looks back out to the ocean once more. He inches his forearm towards her. Elayna tries to subtly move her arm away. She reaches up and adjusts her necklace before placing her arm down. 
“Mother spoke to me today.” 
“Oh?” Elayna arches an eyebrow. “What did the two of you speak about?”
“Many things.” Tymon fidgets with one of the many rings on his fingers. “Mostly of the future.”
Elayna nods. Within a fortnight, Cerelle and Tymon would be celebrating their eight and tenth name day. The feast tonight kicks off the events to follow. The future looms large over everything now; all the politics and planning finally moving into action. A bitter, acrid taste surges into Elayna’s mouth. For all that Johanna cares about Cerelle, she will also use her, as is the way. A son ensures the line while a daughter ensures treaties and potential comfort in old age. 
She knows what will most likely become of Cerelle, but she has no idea what awaits her. For years, she and Cerelle would joke about having to find two brothers to marry. Naturally, Cerelle would marry the eldest and Elayna the younger. Elayna presses her lips together. She gazes at the far away horizon, feeling as if she herself is as much of a distance away from her own body as the horizon. Those plans... Well. They were no more.
She hears shifting, the rustle of clothes against the stone wall. Elayna forces herself back into her body. She turns her head. Tymon now stands with his back to the wall, facing away from the sea and into the courtyard. He crosses his arms.
“The plan is for you to accompany Cerelle to King's Landing when we leave.” 
“I'm aware.” Elayna tries to keep her tone pleasant. “I'm looking forward to it.”
Tymon turns his head to look at her. He evaluates her for a long moment. 
“Did you hear that from my mother or sister?”
“Cerelle told me. Why?”
Tymon smirks. “Then you don't know the good news yet.”
“Good news?” Elayna huffs a laugh. “Let me guess. Your father found an uninhabited island and named it after Cerelle?”
“Don't be ridiculous.”
“You're right, that is ridiculous. He named it after Tyshara.”
Tymon rolls his eyes. “I am the first born son.”
“Yes, but I've been under the impression islands are she's. On account of them being pretty to look at.” Elayna sees a brief flash of irritation on Tymon's face. “So the good news is not an island.”
“No, it isn't an island. That would be excellent news, but this is better.”
“Better than an island? Hmm. Dalton Greyjoy dying. Ideally a slow and incredibly painful death.”
“Alas. One can only wish.”
“Cerelle is betrothed to a Hightower? Is that it?”
Tymon scoffs. Elayna bites the inside of her lip to keep from giggling. As dangerous as it can be, she does enjoy annoying Tymon. He thinks himself to be so smart, to the point he corrects anyone he deems lower than himself. Yet, somehow, he falls into every single conversational trap she creates. It's almost as if he can't help it; he has to try to make someone else look like an idiot, even at the expense of making a fool of himself. 
The apple never falls far from the tree.
“No. It is not Cerelle marrying a Hightower.” Tymon sniffs almost delicately. Annoyance laces every word. Elayna has no doubt in her mind if she pushes more, she will push too far. Normally, she might relish in the chance to pick a fight. Instead, she decides to play nice. “I'm sure mother has higher ambitions for her.”
“What is the good news, then?”
Tymon looks at Elayna. His gaze feels intense. Elayna looks back at him. 
“Once Cerelle is settled and has found a husband, mother suggested you might come back. With us.”
Elayna's heart doesn't just sink; it plummets. It drops from her chest to her stomach the same way a boulder falls from a cliff. 
“I'm... I'm afraid I don't follow.”
“Don't play dumb with me, Elayna.” Tymon smiles, and for the first time, his smile itself scares her. “Isn't this what you wanted? I would think so, given all the times you have tormented and teased me. Finally, Mother has come to her senses about everything as well.”
“Tymon, I genuinely do not know what you're talking about.”
Tymon sighs. It's one of the most patronizing sounds Elayna has heard. It makes her skin crawl and jaw tighten.
“Mother wants to ensure you and Cerelle have ample time together before Cerelle is married. Once Cerelle is settled, our betrothal will be made official and announced.”
Elayna instantly regrets not jumping off the castle and onto the rocks below. A sour, bitter taste floods her mouth. She stares at him. 
“We're...?”
“To be married. Do keep up, Elayna. I cannot have a wife who is slow on the upkeep.”
Elayna's years of practice prevent her from snarling at him. Her upper lip still twitches. Her jaw clenches. She glares daggers at him. 
“I'm not slow!” She pauses. Tymon gives her a look as if he might hit her should she say more. “I am merely... surprised. I wouldn't have thought I would have been a contender.”
“I thought my fondness for you was evident.” Tymon tilts his head. He almost seems genuinely confused as to why Elayna doesn't understand. “ ‘Tis a good match.”
“Surely there are better matches. One of the Lefford's daughters per-”
Elayna's next words are muffled. Tymon surges forward and kisses her. The beginnings of his beard feel rough and unpleasant against her skin, as do his lips. He takes advantage of her parted lips to try and slip his tongue into her mouth. It feels wet and gross against hers, almost slimy. An unpleasant shiver runs up her spine. Elayna clamps her teeth down on his tongue. She means it as a warning bite.
It works.
Tymon pulls away, fury blazing in his eyes. His smile drops.
“Tymon. I don't... this isn't appropriate!” Elayna hisses. “Nothing has even been announced or made official, you cannot just kiss me like that.”
“I don't care.”
“Well I do. Your reputation may not be at stake but mine is.”
Tymon stares at her, his expression unreadable. Elayna's chest heaves. 
“Why would your reputation be ruined? Everyone knows you are mine and mine alone.” He reaches forward and attempts to touch her face. Elayna jerks backwards and away from him. 
“Tymon.” 
Both Elayna and Tymon turn towards the sound of the voice. Tymon scowls. Cerelle stands on the parapet as well. She looks radiant, the setting sun lighting her in beautiful hues. Cerelle has her father's hair and eyes but everything else about her comes from her mother, down to the cold expression she wears.
“Cerelle.” Tymon greets. His tone matches the coolness of Cerelle's face. “I was wondering where you were.”
“So you thought to seek Elayna out?” She steps forward. Tymon’s upper lip twitches, but he manages to wrangle it under control at the last second. Elayna takes the welcome distraction and begins to put some distance between herself and Tymon.
“Yes, well. The two of you are close.”
He makes it sound almost disgusting. Elayna glares at him. Still, she doesn't say anything, not wishing to draw his attention to her. Cerelle tilts her head. A perfectly curled ringlet of blonde hair falls into her face. 
“Elayna is not my keeper.” She sounds as if she wants to laugh.
“No, but you are Elayna's.” 
Cerelle raises an eyebrow. “Speak plainly. If you have an issue with my relationship with my ladies-in-waiting, say so and be done with it."
Tymon lifts both his hands in the air. He chuckles softly, a sly smirk making its way onto his face. 
“I meant no offense, dearest sister.” He lowers his hands. 
“I take offense to your actions, not your words.” Cerelle steps forward. Her gait remains surprisingly steady. Elayna knows, though. She sees the barely repressed anger and tense jaw, the way Cerelle clenches both her hands into fists for the briefest of seconds before clasping her hands in front of her, the flare of Cerelle's nostrils as she nearly stalks towards her brother. 
“My actions?”
“Yes. Your actions. Mother has made it explicitly clear you are not to be alone with Elayna. Yet you openly defy her and seek out Elayna when I am busy.”
Tymon swallows. Elayna sees his Adam's apple bob. She takes advantage of his surprise and almost scurries over to Cerelle. Cerelle seemingly doesn't react to her presence.
Tymon stares at his sister for a long moment. Cerelle stares evenly back at him, her steely gaze not dissimilar to Johanna’s. Tymon must make some sort of expression because after a long minute, Cerelle's brow furrows. She raises one eyebrow. The left side of her mouth lifts slightly, not quite into a sneer but certainly a scoff. Annoyance rolls off of Tymon. His hands clench into fists for a second before he thinks better of it.
“Very well.” Tymon tries to sound pleasant, as if he's truly deferring to his sister. The blazing storm in his eyes says otherwise. He bows his head. “I shall do as instructed. Do try to not hog all of my future wife's time.”
He turns on his heel and heads towards the other set of stairs. Elayna watches him from her place behind Cerelle. She waits until he disappears from sight to speak.
“Thank you.” Elayna murmurs. She tries to effuse her gratitude into every word. Cerelle tries to keep her steady gaze. Despite her efforts, her expression softens, the hard edges of her jaw easing and forehead relaxing. 
“I cannot rescue you all the time.”
“I know. I don't expect you too.”
Elayna steps forward. Cerelle does as well. 
“Mother wants to see us as well. After she talks to Tymon.”
Cerelle stands torn. Elayna sees it clear as day. Cerelle refuses to close the distance, but with each passing moment, her posture relaxes some. 
Elayna moves first. She steps closer to Cerelle, stopping two paces away. 
“I'm still mad at you.” Cerelle looks away as she speaks.
“I know. I made a mess of things.”
“I'm not going to forgive you easily.”
Elayna steps closer. She could reach out and touch Cerelle if she wants to but opts not to do so.
“How would you like me to apologize?” Elayna looks around for a second. The two of them are alone. “I've been told I have a silvertongue when it comes to apologies.”
Cerelle's stern exterior fully breaks. She blushes. Red rises from her neck to her cheeks.
“Elayna!” She hisses. “Not here.”
“Oh, I wouldn't dream of doing that here.”
Cerelle finally closes the distance between them. She reaches out and loops her arm through Elayna's. 
“We should get back to the feast.” Cerelle lightly traces a finger down Elayna's forearm. “If we don't, they'll come looking.”
“Whatever my Lady desires.”
The look on Cerelle's face sends a pleasant tingle along Elayna's spine. Cerelle hums. Elayna bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling victorious. Cerelle's expression no doubt means a delightful night lies ahead of them, one Elayna imagines many women only dream of happening to them. Her own eight and ten name day is still several moons away yet many ladies have taken to giving her womanly advice. She cannot bite or scratch for too much passion may scare her husband, and it is unseemly to mark him with her nails and teeth. He may mark her as he wishes, though. His pleasure must occur; some women say she can experience it while others say she must not. Do not get on top for he will get sick since to do so is an abomination and sin. He must never look at her nether region except for when he slides into her.
All the rules make her want to laugh. While she cannot say she has experience with men beyond a kiss, she doubts the rules. If they are true, men have weak constitutions.
Cerelle never complains about her being on top or whose pleasure comes before the others. Cerelle never cares if Elayna’s mouth finds its way to Cerelle's lips or clit. Truth be told, she seems to enjoy the act quite a lot. Cerelle does prefer Elayna not mark her; Elayna has no qualms about being marked so long as it isn't visible. 
Despite her gender, Elayna finds herself performing more husbandly duties than most men. The only rule existing between them is they must not break their maidenheads. It is the only thing their husbands may have before them. 
Elayna's greed knows no bounds; everything a husband could take is hers except for that one thing. The same goes for Cerelle. She owns everything except Elayna's maidenhead. Elayna can only dream of that happening.
“Perhaps I will need you tonight. I would like to spend time with my boon companion.”
“I am always at your service.”
They begin to walk towards the stairs. Cerelle's grip keeps Elayna close, as if she thinks Elayna would go far. Elayna would never. If she could, Elayna would chain herself to Cerelle. She would put a collar around her neck like a hound and hand Cerelle the lead. She wonders if it would surprise Cerelle but doubts it would; Elayna often kneels at Cerelle's feet and whines like a bitch in heat.
“Behave.” Cerelle squeezes Elayna's arm. Elayna starts. She gazes at Cerelle with wide eyes. 
 “I am!”
“Physically? Yes. Mentally?” Cerelle clicks her tongue. 
“Oh?” Elayna arches an eyebrow. “And where exactly did you learn to read minds?”
“I didn't. I just know yours well.” 
The two of them finally enter the turret. Elayna listens in case someone is coming up the stairs. She sees and hears no one. Before Cerelle can lead them down the stairs, Elayna maneuvers them towards the wall. As soon as Cerelle's back is against the stones, Elayna pounces.
Cerelle's lips slot against hers perfectly. Cerelle squeaks in surprise, which makes Elayna grin into the kiss. Cerelle quickly recovers. Elayna groans when Cerelle digs her fingers into Elayna’s hair. She avoids Elayna's intricate braids, instead opting for the thick, brown curly hair at the base of Elayna’s skull. Those strands of hair being messy can be explained away; her braids falling out of place can't be. Elayna braces herself. She places one forearm on the wall by Cerelle's head. Her other hand rests on the bodice of Cerelle's gown. She wants nothing more than to ruck up Cerelle's skirts and trace the creamy expanse of skin she knows lies under the red silk. Caution makes her stop. Fabrics wrinkle all too easily. 
Still, Elayna can only be cautious for so long. She inches her hand upward, fingers grazing the underside of Cerelle's breasts. The motion makes Cerelle stop. She digs her fingers hard into Elayna’s hair, her nails nearly digging into Elayna’s scalp. She pulls Elayna's head back. Elayna isn't sure if the sound escaping her mouth is from pleasure or pain. 
“No.” Cerelle's chest heaves. She doesn't look angry, despite her tone. “You aren't forgiven yet.”
Elayna pouts. 
“How am I to be forgiven if you won't give me a chance?”
“You have to earn forgiveness. Me giving you what you want will only reinforce your terrible behavior.” 
“You speak of me as a dog.” 
“Perhaps if you behaved, I wouldn't have to treat you like one.”
“I am not a dog.” Elayna huffs. Cerelle arches a perfect eyebrow. She lets go of Elayna’s hair.
“Oh? What are you then?”
“Is not a dog not enough?”
Cerelle snorts. Despite her derision, Elayna sees the fondness in Cerelle's expression.
“No. You are not a dog. They can be taught manners.” Cerelle hums. A devious smirk appears on her lips. “You're a kitten. You refuse to listen and learn, you act as if you're above the rules, and you believe if you want it, it is yours. However, you don't have the claws nor teeth to back your attitude up.”
Elayna stares at Cerelle, wide eyed. She opens her mouth in an attempt to respond, but no sound comes out. She feels hot, not just her face but her entire body. Her breath comes in short bursts. 
“I...”
“Yes?” Cerelle tilts her head. “You what?”
“You... you...”
“Is my kitten having trouble finding her words?” Cerelle grabs Elayna's chin and forces Elayna to look at her. “Answer me.”
“You're so... so mean.” Elayna whines. She tries to bury her face in the crook of Cerelle's neck to hide her embarrassment. Cerelle's grip on her chin prevents her from doing so. Cerelle clicks her tongue in mock sympathy, a direct contrast to the delight dancing in her blue eyes.
“Behave tonight, and I might just let you find out how mean I can really be.”
She lets go of Elayna’s chin. Her blue eyes meet Elayna’s hazel ones. Cerelle seeks reassurance, from the way she looks over Elayna to make sure what transpired is truly alright to the way she frowns when she sees the small red indentations from her nails on Elayna’s chin. Elayna smiles. She presses her forehead to Cerelle's. Both of them close their eyes. They stay still for a moment, breath falling into line with the other's.
“You promise?”
Elayna opens her eyes and grins. Cerelle's eyes fly open. She stares coolly at Elayna. Elayna tries her best not to laugh. 
“I would be careful if I were you.”
“But what if I want you to make me regret it?”
“Then you cannot complain later.”
The sound of footsteps makes both girls back away from each other. Cerelle smooths out the wrinkles in her dress with one hand while Elayna checks her hair. None of her braids appear to be loose. She tucks the small amount of hair Cerelle accidentally removed from the carefully done hairstyle and stuffs the ends as best she can into her braids and held up hair. The two look at each other. Elayna scans Cerelle and nods. Cerelle does the same for Elayna.
“Shall we join the others?” Elayna offers her arm to Cerelle.
“I think it best.”
In the whirlwind of the feast, Elayna forgets about having to speak with Johanna. She spends most of the night dancing and laughing. No one yet knows of her creeping fate; Elayna takes advantage of this fact. Truth be told, she refuses to imagine what her future looks like. Instead, she decides to enjoy the moment. 
The moment includes Elayna staying with Cerelle as the first night of festivities begin to wind down. They don't even bother to come up with an excuse if they're questioned; it's happened a million times before after a feast and will no doubt happen again. Everyone knows the two are inseparable. 
“Elayna.” Cerelle murmurs from the dark. They lay in bed together, Cerelle pressing up against Elayna from behind. One of her arms lightly rests over Elayna's hips.
“Yes?” 
“You have yet to make good on your promise and apologize to me. Properly.”
Elayna hums. She rolls over to face Cerelle. They both wait for a second.
“I suppose I can.”
*****************
“I don't want to marry Tymon.”
Elayna knows not the hour. She assumes early since the darkness seems almost oppressive. Elayna rests her head just underneath Cerelle's bare breasts. Cerelle sits mostly upright, lounging on some pillows. One of her hands rests on Elayna’s head, fingers gently intertwining into Elayna’s dark curls. 
“You must.” Cerelle gently scratches Elayna's scalp in a comforting gesture. A tinge of sadness colors Cerelle's tone, though. Elayna buries her face into Cerelle's soft curves. She takes a moment to find her words, tasting each one on her tongue. 
“He scares me, Cerelle. He scares me so much. I... I worry he means to harm me.”
Cerelle sighs. The bed creaks. Cerelle brings one hand down and places her fingers underneath Elayna's chin. She tilts Elayna's head up so she can look at her. 
“He would harm you if you were betrothed to another.” Cerelle speaks bluntly. She never minces words when it comes to important things. “I hope Mother and Father realize this. Perhaps this is their way of mitigating damage. If you don't marry, violence is inevitable. If you do marry, mayhaps it will be... limited.” 
“I doubt it.” Elayna frowns. She looks away into the darkness. Cerelle gives her that luxury. “He doesn't love me. He doesn't even like me. He just sees me as an object to own.”
“Most men see their wives like that.”
“I know that! But... I sometimes...”
“You sometimes what?” Impatience bleeds into Cerelle's tone. 
“It feels as if he sees me as little more than a broodmare for prized horses.” 
Cerelle doesn't say anything. She neither confirms nor denies Elayna's accusations. Instead, she takes a strand of Elayna’s hair between her fingers and gently plays with it. Elayna lowers her head. She shuffles up the bed some, intent on placing her head on Cerelle's chest to hear her heart beat.
“I can't save you all the time.”
“I'm not asking that of you.” Elayna huffs. “I can rescue myself if need be. I'm just... I'm frightened, Cerelle.” 
Elayna's whole body trembles. Cerelle shushes her. She places her hand back on Elayna’s head. Elayna tries to relax into Cerelle's embrace; her body refuses to obey her commands. Every part of her tenses. Cerelle sighs. The sheets shift, a whisper of silk, as Cerelle reaches down with her free hand and takes Elayna's hand in her own. 
Elayna waits for Cerelle to say something, anything. She waits for words of comfort. Cerelle stays silent for an uncomfortably long time. Eventually, Cerelle sits up some and presses a kiss to the top of Elayna’s head. 
“Go to sleep, Elayna. We can talk about these matters in the morning.”
****************
Johanna calls for them after breakfast.
Thankfully, the two of them were already decent. Three years of practice means their timing is down to an art. No one ever expresses any suspicion.
“Cerelle. Elayna.” Johanna looks between the two of them. The pair sit opposite Johanna. Elayna’s back stands ramrod straight while Cerelle almost leans back in her chair. “ ‘Tis time to begin looking at the future. The Lord Lannister and I have discussed this, and we have come up with a plan.”
Elayna and Cerelle exchange a look. Elayna raises an eyebrow to which Cerelle blinks. Johanna watches them.
“One of Princess Helaena's ladies-in-waiting injured herself badly, to the point she must retire and go back to her family. Truly a shame what happened to her. Rumors are she is now a cripple. Despite how unfortunate this is, a princess should never be without.” Johanna meets Cerelle's eyes. “I have arranged for you to be one of Princess Helaena's ladies-in-waiting. She needs someone more confident than she, and I know you will serve her faithfully. Elayna, of course, will follow as one of your ladies.”
“We're going to King's Landing?” Cerelle grins. She looks to Elayna, eyes glittering with hope. Elayna grins softly in return.
“Yes.” Johanna nods. “Even though you are one of the Princess's ladies, I do expect you to spend time with your uncle. He will be able to provide valuable instruction. Your father would have sent you earlier, but now I believe you will be able to fully grasp any advice given to you.” Johanna turns her attention to Elayna. Elayna almost wants to shrink back. “You, of course, will ensure Cerelle's comfort and safety. I also think it would behoove you to accompany her when she visits with Tyland. You may learn things as well.”
“Of course.”
“Good.” Johanna places her hands in her lap. “Cerelle. You're dismissed. I wish Elayna to sit with me a while.”
Cerelle and Elayna exchange looks. Elayna doesn't move, even as Cerelle does. 
“Mother.”
“Cerelle.”
Cerelle takes her leave then. Elayna adjusts her position in her chair. 
“Tymon spoke with me.” Elayna watches Johanna. Before she takes a sip, Johanna indicates with a gesture for Elayna to be poured a goblet.
“Did he?”
“He said you spoke to him about a betrothal. Of him and me.” Elayna tries her best not to pout or look too sullen. 
“Your father will accompany us when we go to King's Landing. Jason or I will suggest the idea then.”
Elayna frowns. She leans back in her seat. Johanna sets her goblet down. 
“Elinor. If you would leave us.”
The servant curtsies before leaving. Elayna waits to hear the soft close of the doorway to the servant's quarters. Johanna eyes Elayna. Her hands rest in her lap. 
“Do you not wish to marry Tymon?” 
“ ‘Tis not that! I'm just... I don't mean to question you, but I do not see how I am the appropriate choice.”
“Tymon will need someone who can reign him in once he is in charge. Someone practical who knows the ins and outs of this place.” Johanna takes a drink from her goblet. Elayna tries not to fidget and keep her hands still. “Even if he were not set on you, you are the best choice. Whether you recognize it or not, you are everything but a Lannister in name. ‘Tis time that changes.”
Elayna purses her lips. She bites down on her tongue to keep herself from saying the immediate thought in her mind. Truthfully, she does not want this marriage; she wants no marriage as of now. It is inevitable, she knows. Elayna is acutely aware of this fact. It doesn't ease her mind on the topic. 
Johanna stares Elayna down once more. Eventually, she places her goblet down with a sigh.
“ ‘Tis time for you to grow up.” Elayna nearly flinches at Johanna’s steely tone. “I know of you and my daughter. I have... indulged you both and kept your secret, but it cannot go on any longer. You both have your duties. I will not let our reputation be tarnished because you refuse to give up antics more suited to young girls. Indiscretions like this do not go on for several years nor do they go as far as it has. The time for that is over.” 
Elayna trembles. Fear courses through her body.
“I understand, my Lady. Forgive me.”
“I keep this quiet not for you but for Cerelle.” Johanna’s nostrils flare. “I do not agree with what the two of you have done in the slightest. I recognize the impulse, but it cannot continue.”
Elayna dips her head. She feels frozen, stuck to her chair even though she wants nothing more than to run. Johanna clearly sees it. She leans forward and places a hand on Elayna’s knee.
“If you were a man, it would be done. Cerelle deserves a loyal husband. I meant it when I said you were one of us.” Johanna’s voice softens for the briefest of moments. When she pushes back to her full height, the harshness returns. “But you are not a man. It can't continue.”
“It can't. It won't continue.” The words taste bitter. 
Johanna leans back in her seat. She picks up her goblet again. 
“Good. To prove your commitment and to show you keep your word, you have a task. You are to target Prince Aemond. Find out what he likes, what he dislikes. Learn everything you can about him. Then, you will feed this information to Cerelle. I can't ask for a betrothal outright. The future is too uncertain. I can, however, obtain it other ways. When you come back, you will be betrothed to Tymon and marry him.”
Elayna nods.
“Are we in agreement?”
“Yes.”
“Look me in the eyes when you say it.”
Elayna blinks back tears. She clears her throat and poorly suppresses a sniffle. She inhales. 
Lifting her head is the hardest thing she's ever done. 
“We are in agreement.”
Johanna smiles. It doesn't meet her eyes; it's a socially expected smile. Her lips stay too close together, and her eyes blaze.
“Excellent. You are dismissed.”
Next chapter
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queen--kenobi · 1 year ago
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Y'ALL. Y'ALL.
You have no idea how excited I am about this Elayna piece I commissioned from @felrija!!! It's literally so perfect and exactly the way I imagined it in my head!!!!! I'm so happy withit y'all have no idea!!!!!!!!!!
The reference paintings for y'all so you can see how GOOD this looks
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queen--kenobi · 8 months ago
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Last line challenge
Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like). 
Ty for the tag @patchmates !!!!!!
So. I'm gonna do two because I've got both a SFW and NSFW one going hehehe
(Putting tags up here: @emilykaldwen @baba-fett @ewanmitchellcrumbs @huramuna @lya-dustin @selfproclaimedunicorn and anyone else who might want to!)
Tylands nods. He seems content with her answer. He leans back in his desk chair, lacing his hands as he does so and placing them in his lap.
"How is your dad?"
For the NSFW
Tyland inhales sharply as Elayna moves her hand slowly up his thigh. She drags her nails lightly over the fabric of his swim trunks and moves closer towards him, nestling into his side. Tyland’s eyes go dark as he looks at her.
Elayna tilts her head up. She pauses when her lips are centimeters from his, so close if he were to just lean down the slightest bit, he could kiss her. His blue eyes focus on the curve of her lips. Elayna smirks.
"You can touch me, you know." She breathes. She takes hold of his hand and places it on her thigh, pressing his palm into the space just below the ties of her bikini.
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queen--kenobi · 6 months ago
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Drag Me Out like a Cigarette
HotD Big Bang 2024 Teaser
A very light warning for Aegon being a dick, but it's not too bad
Aegon scrutinizes her. He narrows his eyes and stares at her in an almost calculating way. Elayna shifts. It's not an expression Elayna has seen on him before, and it almost makes her nervous. Aegon seems to see what he wants because he leans back slowly. A playful smile makes its way onto his face. 
“Did the two of you fuck?”
Elayna barely manages to keep herself from withdrawing in shock. Instead, her nostrils flare with indignation. Aegon tries to raise his eyebrows. The motion causes him pain; it makes his jaw clench and eyes screw shut.
Instinctively, she steps forward, wanting to offer help and ease the pain in any way she can. Elayna almost reaches out to grab his hand but catches herself.
"Well?" Aegon still sounds in pain. His question covers his slip-up. "Did you or did you not fuck?"
“No. We didn't.” Her words come out a hiss. Aegon nods. He doesn't seem entirely convinced.
“Do you want to?”
“That is not an appro-”
“ 'Tis a yes or no question.” Aegon looks at her. 
“I...” 
If Aegon were not so injured, he would raise his eyebrows and jut out his chin. He stares at her. Elayna screws her eyes shut.
“Answer me.”
She takes a deep breath. 
“Yes.”
Coming to @hotd-bigbang in Autumn '24!
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