#v. not peace but turmoil ; asoiaf i

[caracarnn]

He had been ruminating about far too many things of late: Daenerys' safety ever since the assassination attempt, the fact that they were getting closer and closer to their intended goal, and the feelings that had been coursing through him ever since she had tossed that bridal wreath at his feet. That had filled him with excitement, nervousness, an overwhelming feeling of love that he wasn't even sure what to do with it. Rand wanted more than the barrenness of the life that he had always lived with. But then she had come into his life and it had given him something more. Except there was only one thing left for him to do.

Turning the corner he found the rooms that the girl lived in and he lifted his hand to knock. A moment passed, he waited, offering a nod of his head to one of the nearby guards. The door opened then and he looked down at the girl there before him. "Hey..." he greeted with a small, somewhat faint smile. "...mind if I come in? It'll only be for a few minutes..." - @inabcck

[caracarnn]

He could tell that maybe she didn't want to go at all and he wondered if there was just a way to get out from under the thumb that moved most of the pieces here in the Capitol. It seemed unfortunate that most wouldn't be able to make a move were it not for the opinion of the queen. Maybe that wasn't the right thing to think, but Rand couldn't really help it.

His thoughts were distracted when she came out with the dress on. She did a twirl and he couldn't help but smile at her appreciatively at her. "It looks perfect on you." He told her as he moved towards her, stopping just short. "Whether you want to go or not one thing is certain...I'm sure that every eye will be on you tonight."

“It won’t. Red is part of the Targaryen sigil,” she reassured him, his touch drawing a warm smile from her. Aelerys was probably the least politically-driven member of her family, bar the young Aegon, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t like her family. She was protective of her loved ones, and now, that included Rand. Her passion could also burn hot, though it was something she hadn’t fully tested yet.

A gesture at one of her handmaidens had the red and gold dress brought to her. “Hmm. Alayce did outdo herself this time. This is beautiful.” Maybe too beautiful, but her personal seamstress kept her youth in mind when making her dresses. “As for whether I want to go or not, it’s immaterial. She’s the queen; her wishes should be obeyed.” A belief that didn’t reach her eyes, and she glanced at him before she stepped behind the partition to put the dress on. It fit perfectly, as always, and she couldn’t help but do a little twirl as she stepped out and towards him.

[astradrifting]

A Dream of Spring, and variations thereof

The phrase ‘a dream [for] spring’ only occurs once in the text of ASOIAF, in the chapter where Jon and the wildlings arrive in Queenscrown. Jon remembers Ned and Benjen discussing a plan to resettle the Gift with new lords.

His lord father had once talked about raising new lords and settling them in the abandoned holdfasts as a shield against wildlings. The plan would have required the Watch to yield back a large part of the Gift, but his uncle Benjen believed the Lord Commander could be won around, so long as the new lordlings paid taxes to Castle Black rather than Winterfell. “It is a dream for spring, though,” Lord Eddard had said. “Even the promise of land will not lure men north with a winter coming on.”

(Jon V, ASOS)

Given that Jon remembers it quite well, this conversation likely happened in the long summer just before the start of AGOT, meaning that the spring Ned was speaking of is actually the one that will come at the end of the series.

It might just be a quirk of how asearchoficeandfire’s search engine works, but searching the phrases “a dream of/for spring” comes up with only two other results within the main books. The first one is from Ned’s POV:

The memory came creeping upon him in the darkness, as vivid as a dream. It was the year of false spring, and he was eighteen again, down from the Eyrie to the tourney at Harrenhal.

(AGOT, Eddard XV)

The second one is from Jaime’s POV:

The castleton outside the walls had been burned to ash and blackened stone, and many men and horses had recently encamped beside the lakeshore, where Lord Whent had staged his great tourney in the year of the false spring. A bitter smile touched Jaime's lips as they crossed that torn ground. Someone had dug a privy trench in the very spot where he'd once knelt before the king to say his vows. I never dreamed how quick the sweet would turn to sour.

(ASOS, Jaime IV)

It’s interesting that throughout the whole series, a connection between dream imagery and spring only ever comes up in association with the Tourney of Harrenhal, set during the year of the false spring. It was a period of time that could be considered ‘a dream of spring’ too, in a much more negative sense. Though everyone thought winter had broken, the warm weather only lasted a couple of months before the cold winds came again. At the same time, the relative peace of the realm was shattering after the tourney. It was possibly intended to be the start of change, as Rhaegar might have planned to use it to gather a council deposing Aerys, but whatever was intended never went through and Rhaegar just caused brand new problems. It was a dream of spring in that the spring wasn’t real, it was fleeting and followed quickly by winter, and a war that ravaged the Seven Kingdoms.

The Ned and Jaime passages both carry on this theme. Jaime states it explicitly, that the sweet turned sour quickly, while Ned goes on to describe the dreamlike, idyllic atmosphere of the tourney, up until the moment it all went wrong:

He could see the deep green of the grass, and smell the pollen on the wind. Warm days and cool nights and the sweet taste of wine. He remembered Brandon's laughter, and Robert's berserk valor in the melee, the way he laughed as he unhorsed men left and right.

[...]

Robert had been jesting with Jon and old Lord Hunter as the prince circled the field after unhorsing Ser Barristan in the final tilt to claim the champion's crown. Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty's laurel in Lyanna's lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost.

(AGOT, Eddard XV)

The only time spring and dream imagery is linked together positively is in the Jon passage above, which talks about a plan for renewal and stability in an area that has faced a lot of turmoil, but one that must be put off until after the coming winter. That it contains nearly word for word the title of the last book is pretty strong foreshadowing that this plan will become relevant, hopefully that Jon will be able to carry out his father-uncles’ dream to resettle the Gift.

The Tourney of Harrenhal was arguably the beginning of Jon’s story; where his parents first encountered each other, the catalyst for the whole political situation at the beginning of the series.

It’d be poetic if Jon’s story was bookended by a false hope of spring at the start, and the true dreams of spring at the end. The situation after Harrenhal is already being set up in reverse for the end of the series. The harshest winter in years has just arrived. War has already ravaged the Seven Kingdoms, and there are only more wars yet to come. But by the end, even if it’s still winter there will be hope for a real spring - Jon’s attempt to depose an unsuitable monarch is going to go much better than Rhaegar’s, and he’ll get a chance to enact Ned’s plans for the Gift with the wildlings.

Incidentally, the last search result for “a dream of spring” is from The Mystery Knight. Dunk is talking to Daemon II, a Blackfyre prince who has hidden himself as a man with dark hair called John the Fiddler. They have a discussion about John/Daemon’s dreams, during which Dunk recalls a memory of another tourney held in the spring:

"I dreamed it. This pale white castle, you, a dragon bursting from an egg, I dreamed it all, just as I once dreamed of my brothers lying dead. They were twelve and I was only seven, so they laughed at me, and died. I am two-and-twenty now, and I trust my dreams." Dunk was remembering another tourney, remembering how he had walked through the soft spring rains with another princeling. I dreamed of you and a dead dragon, Egg's brother Daeron said to him. 

The tourney Dunk is referring to is, of course, our beloved Ashford Tourney :)

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

Hi! Thank you for your awesome blog. Regarding Duncan and Jenny, if GRRM said in an interview that love between a lordling/lady and a peasant never happened in the past, and beeing ASOIAF very realist and all, why do you think we wrote such couple? I get that he married for love, ironically against his father's wishes, but he could fell in love with a noble, nowing his place, why a peasant? Or is it just for the songs?

GRRM hasn’t said that romance between a lord and a peasant never happened, that people never went outside their class structures, he said it never happened without consequences. And serious consequences were definitely what happened; Duncan and Jenny’s marriage was a major source of friction, and there is a direct line from it to the downfall of House Targaryen.

Prince Rhaegar loved his Lady Lyanna, and thousands died for it. Daemon Blackfyre loved the first Daenerys, and rose in rebellion when denied her. Bittersteel and Bloodraven both loved Shiera Seastar, and the Seven Kingdoms bled. The Prince of Dragonflies loved Jenny of Oldstones so much he cast aside a crown, and Westeros paid the bride price in corpses. All three of the sons of the fifth Aegon had wed for love, in defiance of their father’s wishes. And because that unlikely monarch had himself followed his heart when he chose his queen, he allowed his sons to have their way, making bitter enemies where he might have had fast friends. Treason and turmoil followed, as night follows day, ending at Summerhall in sorcery, fire, and grief. –thoughts of Barristan Selmy, ADWD, The Kingbreaker  

“Why did they wed if they did not love each other?”“Your grandsire commanded it. A woods witch had told him that the prince was promised would be born of their line.”“A woods witch?” Dany was astonished.“She came to court with Jenny of Oldstones. A stunted thing, grotesque to look upon. A dwarf, most people said, though dear to Lady Jenny, who always claimed that she was one of the children of the forest.”“What became of her?”“Summerhall.” The word was fraught with doom.

–ADWD, Daenerys IV

It had long been the custom of House Targaryen to wed brother to sister to keep the blood of the dragon pure, but for whatever cause, Aegon V had become convinced that such incestuous unions did more harm than good. Instead he resolved to join his children in marriage with the sons and daughters of some of the greatest lords of the Seven Kingdoms, in the hopes of winning their support for his reforms and strengthening his rule.With the help of Black Betha, a number of advantageous betrothals were made and celebrated in 237 AC whilst Aegon’s children were still young. Had the marriages taken place, much good might have come of them … but His Grace had failed to account for the willfulness of his own blood. Betha Blackwood’s children proved to be as stubborn as their mother, and like their father, chose to follow their hearts when choosing mates.

[…]

It was true that Aegon had been a friend to the smallfolk, had practically grown up among them, but to countenance the marriage of the heir to the throne to a commoner of uncertain birth was beyond him. His Grace did all he could to have the marriage undone, demanding that Duncan put Jenny aside. The prince shared his father’s stubbornness, however, and refused him. Even when the High Septon, Grand Maester, and small council joined together to insist King Aegon force his son to choose between the Iron Throne and this wild woman of the woods, Duncan would not budge. Rather than give up Jenny, he foreswore his claim to the crown in favor of his brother Jaehaerys, and abdicated as Prince of Dragonstone.Even that could not restore the peace, nor win back the friendship of Storm’s End, however. The father of the spurned girl, Lord Lyonel Baratheon of Storm’s End—known as the Laughing Storm and famed for his prowess in battle—was not a man easily appeased when his pride was wounded. A short, bloody rebellion ensued, ending only when Ser Duncan of the Kingsguard defeated Lord Lyonel in single combat, and King Aegon gave his solemn word that his youngest daughter, Rhaelle, would wed Lord Lyonel’s heir.

[…]

Prince Jaehaerys was not as forceful as his brother, but when Duncan defied his father to follow his own heart, and the king and court yielded to his desire, the younger prince did not fail to take note. In 240 AC, a year after Prince Duncan’s marriage, Prince Jaehaerys and Princess Shaera each eluded their guardians and were secretly married.

[…]

Jaehaerys and Shaera would have two children, Aerys and Rhaella. On the word of Jenny of Oldstones’s woods witch, Prince Jaehaerys determined to wed Aerys to Rhaella, or so the accounts from his court tell us. King Aegon washed his hands of it in frustration, letting the prince have his way.

[…]

Corrupted by the example of his brothers, even King Aegon’s youngest son Prince Daeron vexed his father in like manner. […] Prince Daeron brought to his father, Aegon, an altogether deeper sort of grief when he was killed in battle in 251 AC, leading an army against the Rat, the Hawk, and the Pig. Ser Jeremy died at his side…

[…]

Though friends and counselors sought to dissuade him, King Aegon grew ever more convinced that only with dragons would he ever wield sufficient power to make the changes he wished to make in the realm and force the proud and stubborn lords of the Seven Kingdoms to accept his decrees. […] What became of the dream of dragons was a grievous tragedy born in a moment of joy. In the fateful year 259 AC, the king summoned many of those closest to him to Summerhall…

[…]

… the blood of the dragon gathered in one …… seven eggs, to honor the seven gods, though the king’s own septon had warned …… pyromancers …… wild fire …… flames grew out of control … towering … burned so hot that …… died, but for the valor of the Lord Comman …

[…]

…the tragedies of Aegon the Unlikely’s reign had trimmed the noble tree of House Targaryen down to just a pair of lonely branches.

–The World of Ice and Fire

Because of Duncan choosing Jenny, the tradition of Targaryen incest continued, as well as the miserable marriage of Aerys and Rhaella. Because of Duncan choosing Jenny, Aegon was unable to make the alliances he needed to make the changes he wanted to make to Westeros. Because of Duncan choosing Jenny, Aegon looked to dragons instead, and so the Tragedy of Summerhall happened. Because of Duncan and Jenny, the once thriving House Targaryen was wiped out to only 5 people (soon 3) named Targaryen and one (soon two) named Baratheon. From which we can see the seeds of Robert’s Rebellion, and the end of the ruling House Targaryen.

And all that singers remember is “Jenny of Oldstones, with the flowers in her hair”.

Hope that helps!

[caracarnn]

@qanedanegros - 🐉

This was his first time being in King's Landing and the interest had faded the moment he had smelled the place, seen it for what it was. What sort of grand city was this? He had seen ruins beyond the Narrow Sea that were far more beautiful. He had been directed towards this place by one of his men and, of course, he knew what it was. They didn't have Brothels in the Red Wastes but he knew exactly what these women did. It wasn't so much their profession but the way that they were treated.

He nodded his head in response, understanding. "What if I could offer you protection?" He suggested, lifting his gaze up to meet hers. "Is that something that you'd be willing to allow?"

[caracarnn]

Her hostility towards him was something that he hadn't expected upon coming here. He had thought that maybe things between them would be somewhat tense given these distant arrangements but this? Families and Wise Ones conducted arrangements in his clans but no one offered up a response this severe. Maybe he shouldn't have expected anything else but he couldn't help but be a bit uncertain now that he stood there. Uncertain and at a complete loss as well.

After following her into the room he stood at the center and then turned to face her. The room around him was foreign to him. On the road here he had slept in the tents erected by his people but this room - there was finery everywhere he looked and Rand really wasn't sure at all how to respond to it. Or, even, what he was meant to do with any of it.

He cleared his throat once she was finished, leveling his gaze with hers. She was clearly determined not to make him feel welcome, of course that wasn't something that he was offended at. He hadn't expected something affectionate upon first meeting at all.

"Forgive me for my ignorance regarding your customs but..." he paused, clasping his hands behind his back. "...if this arrangement is not something that you want why don't you speak to your father?"

     OF COURSE, IT HAD BEEN an army that had drawn Tywin Lannister into a promise of marriage to his daughter. Was she truly surprised by this? Had she TRULY expected there to be some other reason than adding power to the Lannister name? No. But she had hoped.

     When she was asked whether this choice had been brought to her attention, she glanced back at the man again, a look of surprise on her features. “You plainly know very little about Westerosi customs,” she told him, marching down a long hallway to a set of rooms at the end of it. “No, it was not brought to my attention. I was to wed the Prince, right up until the moment my father decided your army was more important.” It had not been near as set in stone as she had made it out, but now it was CERTAIN she would not wed the Prince.

     Pushing through a heavy wooden door on their left, she stood slightly out of the way, so he could follow her inside. “These are to be your chambers for the duration of your stay here.” Her tone of voice heavily implied she hoped that his stay would be short. “Servants have been assigned to you in case you need something.” Her teeth clenched together at the next words, words she had been instructed to speak by her father, otherwise she would have never said them. “And if you wish for my company, for perchance a walk in the gardens, my chambers are at the end of the hallway on the other end of the grand staircase.” Again, her words implied so much more than was really spoken. In this case, the express wish that he NOT come find her for ANY reason.

     “Was there anything else you wished from me, my Lord?”

[caracarnn]

@leschanceux -  🐉

Coming here was perhaps the wrong thing to do. Following one's dreams as prophecy was also something that he shouldn't rely on so heavily. Only, he knew that he had a mission, something that had to be done. Maybe it was helping The Young Wolf? As he had heard him be called in these parts. The War of the Five Kings. Maybe Rand had crossed the Narrow Sea none too early? But Robb Stark had a just cause and Rand was sure that siding with him, letting his Clan fight for the North wasn't the wrong thing at all. He threaded his way through the men in the camp and found himself at Robb's tent. "Your Grace..." he hadn't known that was the way to greet men like Robb until just this week. People didn't greet one another so formally in the Red Waste. "...Might I...have a word?"

[caracarnn]

Rand gave a hint of a smile as he made the few steps that brought him towards the other. The dragon was indeed a magnificent creature and Rand felt excitement as well as nervousness thread through him as he regarded it. What would he be able to do once he came towards the dragon, setting his hand on it? That was a rather compelling thought.

A hard swallow was taken before he reached his own hand out, fingertips dancing over the scales. A small hiss left his lips and then a small laugh followed it as he lifted his gaze to meet the others. Daeron certainly seemed comfortable in himself and the dragon. "You're right." He says, lingering smile. He couldn't help his excitement, he really couldn't. "He doesn't mind a stranger getting this close?"

@percentstardust - cont'd from here

[caracarnn]

She seemed a curious sort and that related to something in him as well. He ventured off to places that he shouldn't go, as was deemed by those of his clan. His curiosity often outshone the rules however. He couldn't help but imagine different worlds, think of other cultures and what it might mean to immerse oneself in them. Even then as he regarded the woman before her, with the magnificent wolf at her side, he had to wonder about where she was from. A flood of curiosity entered him at the thought. Would it be overstepping were he to ask? They didn't get many outlanders out here and her accent alone proved to be from very far away.

"How does your wolf find it?" He asked, his eyes lingering on the beautiful animal. He had never seen one before, only read of them, and further curiosity spiked within him. He wanted to go nearer but he figured she would not appreciate that until permission was given. "Lyanna...that is a beautiful name." He offered with a small smile. It sounded like a song or something like it. His hand reached up to touch to his chest. "My name is Rand of the Taardad Aiel." His eyes went upwards to look at the blazing sun. "The sun wont fall for sometime. Would you like shade? Some water?"

@northsrose - cont'd from here

[caracarnn]

Upon seeing the man before him he could see the weight of something there on his face. He looked worn, stressed. Rand could only imagine. Being in the Wastes, and named Clan Chief so early, had been stressful enough. Rand could only guess at what this man carried what with the war and everything else that had happened to his family. He takes back his initial thought of coming here to him and, instead, offers a smile of his own. "I was wondering..." he began somewhat thoughtfully. "...if you would like to take a drink with me?" From inside his coat he draws out the small bottle that he kept with him always. "You carry heavy burdens but we must be careful." He offers a further smile then. "This is rather potent."

There were many people in his camp, supporting his cause in their own ways, and Robb was grateful for each and every one of them ( at least most of the time ). As much as he missed home, missed the simplicity of living under his father before the Lannisters had come and ruined it all, Robb wouldn't wish to be anywhere else now. Not when he had all these people relying on him to win this war and become their King in the North. He thought he'd managed to escape the campaigning and morale boosting for today, had retired to his tent when a voice broke the peace. Sighing internally, he glanced up at the visitor, trying his hardest not to let his weariness show lest he offend somebody from a family who might prove crucial later on. "Yes, of course," he tried for a smile, "come in."

[caracarnn]

He notes the bitterness that exudes from her talking and Rand has to wonder what led her there to this moment. Of course he knew the stories and talk of what had happened here in the Capitol. King's Landing had indeed been a hub of scandals and violence and he could see that maybe she was at the center of it, given everything that had happened to her family. He understands how that sort of thing changes you much like his own experiences shape him.

"I would have really enjoyed seeing your dragon." He told her with a small smile, leaning on his elbow as he held her eyes closely. "Have you become a dragonrider since?" He wasn't sure what happened to her dragon but he hoped that he wasn't crossing any boundaries by bringing this up.

A small smile marked his lips as he nodded his head. "I've heard that most people hate the Capitol but...it's so different from Essos, from the Red Wastes..." he trails his gaze towards the slit windows, watching the silk draperies sway in the city breeze. "...I think that I could get used to a place like this. Unless you don't think that it suits me?"

@dragontwiins - cont'd from here

[caracarnn]

Even though the idea of climbing up onto the back of a dragon terrified him, it was also a very exhilarating thought. He couldn't imagine being that high up and apart of something so separate from himself. Aelerys was close to her dragon, that much was obvious, and he felt a swell of pride all through him when she offered him that invitation. He felt like he could do just about anything then and she would stay with him, if she was actually going to give him something like that.

Reaching into the bucket of meat he grabbed some and then did as she instructed. The meat was thrown out for Caelum to eat it and he watched the entire interaction with delight. He hoped that Caelum liked him too. "I'd love that." He told her with a certain amount of shyness because he didn't want to seem assumptive. "I hope that I did that right."

Aelerys understood his wariness, so she didn't smile or laugh at his nervousness. Instead, she approached him and placed a hand over the one holding the raw meat. "Yes, just throw it as hard as you can." Turning her head over to Caelum, she murmured in Valyrian for him to be nice. That earned her a low growl of assent as the dragon moved closer to easily catch the meat in its mouth.

Rather than step back, she stayed next to Rand to comfort him, and to make sure that Caelum's mischivous side didn't cause any accidents. "I hope he likes you. Maybe I can take you out on a ride if he does." Not a small offer. She couldn't remember a time when a Targaryen allowed an outsider to ride with them on their dragon, but somehow, that invitation felt...right.

[caracarnn]

He was glad that she had agreed. Maybe it was make believe, some sort of idealistic thought. Of course he had never been the sort to romanticize whatever it was that existed in the world but he could invest in it right then. He let out a small breath and looked into her eyes, watching the way that the night seemed to pass like a soft shadow across her face. He could speak in possibilities even if they weren't cemented.

"You're right." he said finally and then he carefully nudged at her with his shoulder. He had a million things wrong in his head, the world was falling to some kind of darkness and yet here they were - "If dragons can come back why can't we find something to create ourselves?"

The world seemed to be changing but Nelene still was in-between if it was for the best or the worst. Her hands rested on the shield in her lap and traced the fading design on it. Where she be in this new world? Would it welcome her or would she simply stay beyond the wall just to feel safe for the rest of her days? Hope was nestled deep down in her and Nelene didn't know how to let it fester and become more. There was more to fear than be happy for her in her eyes but she was hardened like most who had grown up in the ice and snow. "Perhaps we could.." Creating the light themselves? That didn't seem so far-fetched but even then how long would it last? Her lips curved into a small smile. "A light that we created and show the way I guess it can be done. There's been strange things happening in the world. Dragons are back and roam the skies. Anything can happen..."

[caracarnn]

He felt that she had absolutely no cause for embarrassment because those sounds were going to infiltrate his dreams for nights to come, something to keep him going when they were apart. The very thought that it had been him that had drawn them out of her was enough to make him dizzy. He didn't much care that some of his people, at first, had assumed that she wasn't good for him he had fallen for her all the more during that time. Rather quickly too. Of course, the opinion towards her had changed into a favorable one and his feelings had only grown deeper.

She pulled him closer, those soft hands of hers touching him. He can feel her more now, the flush of her body against his own. He liked the press of her breasts against his chest, the way that she accepted him inside of her as eagerly as he entered her. Her words wrapped around him and he lowered his face down to her neck, breathing her in, his tongue catching the light sheen of sweat that covered her skin. "I love you, Aelerys." He breathed out into her neck, against the strands of her hair as his hips moved with hers, anticipation thrumming inside of him. "Only you..." and he murmured it over and over like a prayer.

“But I got so loud,” she said, covering her reddened cheeks with her hands. “You made me make those noises.” More of a statement of fact than an accusation, and she looked at him in awe, her fingertips grazing along his cheek. When she started out on her plans to form an alliance with Rand and his people, she hadn’t planned on falling for him. Not even when her uncle ‘hinted’ that she seduce him to secure his loyalty. Aelerys knew that a stronger alliance would be one formed out of a genuine desire to be loyal to each other and not when manipulation was involved.

Yet there she was, whimpering at the memory of his voice and the intimate touch of his hand on her thigh. She knew then that she was hopelessly falling deeper for him, and that same sentiment was murmured as she pulled at his waist to have him take her deeper. Considering that she might have said it in Old Valyrian, she echoed it again just before her breath hitched: “I love you…”

[caracarnn]

He noted the look on her face, how she seemed to beam over the talk of the North. He can imagine that she must truly love her home. He thinks back to the Red Wastes and he feels an inner longing inside of him towards it, knowing that maybe he might never return there. Why would he? He had come here based on the dreams that had plagued him night after night after that comet had shot through the skies. Dreams were hard to ignore and Rand didn't intend to do that - even if there was a yearning to return home.

"If you love the North as much as you say why have you planned to leave it?" he questioned softly, not at all demanding but more interested in the idea that someone would leave their home just as he had. "Is there something in the South that you want?" There was for him. But did he dare tell her that? "As for stories of Westeros," he smiled at that. ",I suppose that they aren't common but one hears things and one...must try to understand the world that they have heard so much about."

     HER BROW FURROWED AT THE somewhat cryptic answer she got, wondering if there was more meaning behind the words than there seemed to be. It had been a very personal question though, so could she really blame him for giving such a strange answer? “I was unaware of stories of Westeros were told in such far away places that whole armies came to verify them.” She was used to living in Westeros and was not quite sure if it genuinely was so inhabitable that other people would want to seek it out.

     “You mean the North?” She asked in response to his question, glancing around as though the answer to it were lying on the side of the road. “It has been my home my whole life. It is a harsh land and many Southron lords would die if forced to live here.” She sat a little straighter, pride shining in her eyes. “But I love it. It is beautiful and takes care of those who take care of it.” A small shrug of her shoulders. “I know very little about the lands below the Neck. Only what stories have told me. This is the first time I am traveling South.”

[caracarnn]

He had always dreamed of visiting the Dragonpit ever since he was a little boy. Anyone in Westeros had heard the stories about the dragons and the pits that harbored them. These were the creatures that brought terror to the Seven Kingdoms and Rand was more than intrigued to be walking through here as though he were an invited guest.

The sight of the dragon startled him. He had only ever seen one in passing, flying overhead like a shadow streaking across the sky like a light. Seeing one up close however shocked him and he stared with surprise as he moved towards the meat bucket, to grab some from inside. "Just toss it out?" He asked somewhat nervously.

Compared to previous generations of Targaryens, the dragons in the pit were limited. The newly hatched and the eggs were kept in a separate part, one that only the royal family and a select, highly trusted few could access. But those she passed seemed to grow bigger in size the further down the tunnel they went, and once Caelum's chambers were reached, the quarters were fewer, indicating the size of the occupants.

She heard a familiar rumble, and she practically ran to her dragon's snout to hug it and whisper reassurances that Rand was a friend and not to be scorched. The attendant with her set the bucket of raw meat down, so they could start throwing the slabs of meat at Caelum, who happily caught the food midair and swallowed them whole. "Go on," she said, encouraging him to throw some meat, too.