The year is 286 AC. King Jaehaerys II has just passed, leaving the throne without a rightful ruler. While his three children fight for the crown, Winter creeps closer, and unimaginable darkness looms.
Not all alliances will be so typical this time. In fact, many people have a crucial effect on the way this story is told. As for the ending, we only hope there are enough people left alive to tell it after its passed.
Events
Join us for our first event, the wake of recently deceased King Jaehaerys II.
Updates
AUG. 19: So we are now officially open to the public. We have a mini-event flashback thread going on, and our main event just began. Feel free to make a second canon if you can keep both of them active enough.
Don't hesitate in pestering staff with questions; it's what we're here for! Let's raise a glass and make a cheer toward a successful launch of Winds of Winter.
Post by Selvyra Lannister on Jun 15, 2015 19:25:32 GMT
“My lady, would you order the men to search with you?”
As she deftly dismounted, Selvyra side-eyed the member of the elite guard that had proposed the question. “No, but I highly recommend it.” She caught her horse to a tree, twisting the reigns into a knot. “If you do not help me, we might not get back by nightfall, and I have been given a curfew.” Given this information, Rastan, captain of her personal guard, nodded before looking to the other three. “Bolden, search with us. Traffin and Geiser, you two keep watch.” Selvyra gave him a short, barely-there smile before getting to work.
She was dressed in travel garb, all rough and soft leather, save for her shawl – a gold ornamented red thing that betrayed finery. The golden lion that was her family crest was on the men’s shields despite her wishes, making them as much of a target for any potential trouble as standing deer. It was the way the lion roared, she supposed, even as she preferred to purr in silence. But Selvyra had her bow and arrows, so as she climbed ever higher on the hill in quiet scrutiny of the vegetation she did not feel threatened. She had hand-picked her guards and trained with them. Even searching for a rare flower was a systematic show of teamwork, the three involved zig zagging without ever intersecting or covering the same zone twice, with the remaining two flanking them and being watchful.
Truthfully, Selly rarely ever felt as free as when she trekked the hills with her squadron of guards. There was something liberating about their lack of questioning her words or motives, walking in tandem in nearly battle-formation. Often she dreamt for them to stumble upon a great beast and slay it together, but such had only come close during hunting expeditions, and those she liked the least. There was no fun in killing things for sport, which was why she only supported it when the larder grew empty. Today was about something far more entertaining – finding elusive herbs. This particular flower was rare and grew only during this time of year.
She needed at least four and so far two expeditions had brought her one.
Post by Euron Baratheon on Jun 16, 2015 17:50:53 GMT
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WE REMAIN COWARDS
When it came to size, the North dwarfed the Westerlands and it was the Reach that had the most fertile land in all the realm. Even so, there was no denying the wealth of the Westerlands which was dotted with mines that could pour out gold and silver in astonishing quantities. In the center of it all was House Lannister, the richest great house in all of Westeros, a fact disputed only by lackwits and comedians.
Despite all of that, Euron could not say he was very fond of the Westerlands. It was far from the Stormlands and riddled with crags and hills besides. Not really the terrain you want for riding but even so, the knight found himself there, riding along without a care in the world. He had just been at Crakehall, not a particularly lovely sight but a worthy trip since he got to a glimpse at the Sunset Sea, a much calmer sight than the storms that plagued Shipbreaker Bay but not as beautiful. Or at least that is what Euron thought.
He looked to his right, the young squire who Euron had chosen to accompany him was riding somewhat awkwardly, clearly unused to being on horseback. The two of them were flanked by a few Crakehall soldiers who were instructed to see Euron and his squire safely to to Silverhill. "Do any of you know any songs? An adventure without music cannot be called an adventure after all," Euron piped up and after a quick exchange of glances, his squire had begun singing a song that Euron had never heard before.
"If you fight the same way you ride a horse and sing, then you would make a very poor knight indeed," Euron chuckled but there was no spite in his tone. "But at least you're brave," he looked over at the soldiers who had decided to keep quiet. Ignoring them, Euron began to sing too, Alysanne, a sad song in truth but he liked it all the same. He stopped when he saw a mount tied to a tree and instructed his small crew to do the same as well.
"Let's stop here," he suggested. "Maybe we'll meet someone interesting," he knew that the Crakehalls were uncomfortable with this spontaneous decision but they remained quiet. Humming the chorus of "Alysanne", Euron waited.
Post by Selvyra Lannister on Jun 16, 2015 20:16:42 GMT
The Cerum was a flower very few knew of, almost written off as feverish ravings by the scholars of the land. Selvyra found that it grew near veins of silver, uncomfortably rising and flourishing from cracks and crevices amongst rocks. While its healing properties were mediocre for something so rare and short-lived, it was a great adjuvant to other salve the youngest of the castled lions could produce. Also, the hunt for it – the hunt to find some before they withered and perished as if they had never been at all - was what drove Selvyra ever forward.
It was rather a painful task – to be a herbalist and general flower enthusiast in the Westerlands. Selvyra brought most of her stock from trips further south. A private room arranged with pots of greens spoke of her passion, but sometimes not as well as her grip on the longbow. All of her party paused when at some point they turned and gazed to notice the silhouettes in the distance. Another group, also not so large, seemed to be waiting further down, about where Selly had tied her white horse. The silent buzz of a moment’s deliberation passed between Selly and her men. Then the young woman brought down the bow from her back, holding it loosely, non-threateningly, as she began the slow descent of approach. Her guards gathered around her, with Rastan walking in lead beside her, hand leisurely rested on the hilt of his sword. “Two men at the center, one smug-looking and tall – a travelling lord perhaps, not one I recognize,” the man said quietly as they came into view.
Selly wiped the mounting amusement from her smile as they came close enough to have a conversation (provided they were not threatened to stay back). The young woman with golden curls stood just a step forward from the heavily armored men in her retinue, her gaze steady but reserved as it sought that of the brown-haired stranger that seemed to be the center of the confidence in the lot. “Greetings. I am Selvyra of House Lannister, Mistress of Healing at Casterly Rock. May I receive the favor of knowing who takes a break from travel so near my home?”
“I would have ignored you,” she smiled, politely, “but you stand so awfully near my horse the attempt would have proven awkward.”
Notes: You didn't mention any obvious identification signs, so I didn't assume they could see any.
Post by Euron Baratheon on Jun 16, 2015 21:44:07 GMT
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WE REMAIN COWARDS
"See? Aren't you glad we decided to stick around?" Euron nodded towards his squire smugly when the owners of the white horse had begun to approach them. An interesting lot he noted. He also saw that his young squire was less than enthusiastic with this sudden development but whether it was because he feared that a fight would break out or whether it was because he was bad with social situations Euron could not say.
"They're armed, ser,"
He had said it softly, barely squeaked it actually. If Euron had heard, he did not show any sign of it and if Euron did not hear, you could not really blame him. Having said that though, he did notice that one of the men had his hand on the hilt of his sword. There was no self respecting man in the Seven Kingdoms who would attack someone without learning of their true intentions first and as such, Euron was not too worried. This was no war, merely a passing between two sets of travelers.
The two Crakehall knights had already dipped their heads in respect before the woman had introduced herself. A Lannister, she said. It was to be expected after all, the Crakehalls were vassals of House Lannister and this was the Westerlands. To see a lion or in this case, a lioness roaming about would not have been too uncommon. Respectfully, Euron dipped his head also, one hand on his chest.
"Ser Euron of House Baratheon and heir to Storm's End," he greeted coolly. "And my squire, Addam," he nodded towards his squire who seemed too shy to speak. He turned to glance at the white horse for a second before back to the Lannister lady. "I must apologize, my lady. When I saw this fine mount without a rider, I thought that she had been stolen. I was waiting to see if it were true, merely a knight's courtesy," he smiled back, as he loosened his grip on the reins.
Post by Selvyra Lannister on Jun 17, 2015 20:28:46 GMT
Even if she frequented court and sat as often as she could with her parents during trial days or meetings, Selvyra could never be fully aware of all the knights, squires, and servants employed by her house’s vassals. She did as she could when it came to most lords and ladies of prominent seating, but her interest in politics shared house with all her others. So when the Crakehall knights showed signs of deferential recognition, it immediately alerted her to her ignorance, one that extended even farther when it came to rulers of other lands. She did know of Ser Euron Baratheon, of course, as would anyone even remotely interested in the royal houses, but said knowledge went only so far as the name and standing. Moments like these reminded her she should travel farther and be more daring more often.
While she showed no physical signs of it, the revelation of the traveling heir Baratheon did send a chill down her spine. Being in the presence of a future high lord, even on home ground, was not something she could take lightly. As a woman who in her heart of hearts prized peace and understanding, Selvyra felt the creeping claws of responsibility grip her quite suddenly. Even so, that did not mean she should not keep at least an ounce of her playful disposition. Still master over her presentation, the youngest castled lion managed a curtsy despite all of the rough leather. “A pleasure to have my horse guarded by someone of such distinction, Ser Euron,” she dared, giving him another smile. “And I bid you and Addam welcome,” she looked to the knights first to acknowledge her, “even though you seem to have been well-met and accompanied already.”
In the background of their conversation, Rastan respectfully removed the casually ready placing of his hand on the sword-hilt.
“Would it be too bold of me to inquire about the urgency of your passage?” Selly glanced about the lands at large. “Because if you are not so very busy, I would propose a noble quest to you.” She turned her gaze back to Euron. “You needn’t stray from your course, either. We could take it in the direction of your travel.” Being daring seemed to be coming on naturally for Selvyra, but even she recognized the need to pace it. “If you do not have the disposition for it, however, I understand.”
“We can part ways here and return to our respective duties.” She tilted her head, but only a fraction. “Even though I would have preferred your company for a little while longer.”
Post by Euron Baratheon on Jun 17, 2015 21:45:34 GMT
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WE REMAIN COWARDS
He nodded as she spoke, listening attentively to what the Lannister lady was saying. He repeated her name in his head. Selvyra Lannister. He had recalled hearing that name, perhaps once or twice before. Likely, it was his father who mentioned her, the Lannister pack was, after all, quite large. He cracked a characteristic smile when she complimented him, unable to discern whether the kind words were sincere or not but feeling happy all the same.
"My lady is very kind,"
"They saw it fit to escort me. These two have been very good to us," he said, referring to the two Crakehall knights. They seemed happy enough just to get a mention. They weren't very talented singers though nor willing ones either but for some reason Euron thought that Lady Selvyra would have no interest in a trivial fact like that. From the corner of his eye, Euron could see Addam drop his shoulders, possibly more relaxed now that Selvyra's guard had changed the placing of his hand.
It must have been a fight he dreaded after all, Euron thought to himself.
"We came to Crakehall for the Sunset Sea," he told her politely. "Nobody has ever crossed the Sunset Sea to learn what lies on the other side. I had wanted to see for myself," he added. It was the Narrow Sea that the Stormlands bordered, beautiful in its own way but lacking the mystery of the its western counterpart. Beyond the Narrow Sea was the Free Cities but what was beyond the Sunset Sea? Nobody knew but everyone had their own thoughts.
He pondered for a moment about her offer. On one hand, it could not hurt to get friendly with one of the daughters of Lord Lannister but on the other hand, he may arrive at Storm's End later than expected. There was no guarantee that he would not be delayed. He was a man grown though, and it was never in his nature to refuse the offer of a lady.
"If my lady has need of us, we will be more than happy to be of service," he smiled, speaking for his entire host. There was no complaints though. "Assisting damsels is also apart of a knight's duty," he hummed, attempting to justify his choice to the disgruntled squire.
"What is it that you would have me do?" he asked, gazing towards Selvyra.
Post by Selvyra Lannister on Jun 18, 2015 9:43:57 GMT
You said things Selly, now breathe, was the sort of inner monologue going on within the woman after she dared as much as she did. Her insides bundled into quite the tight knot as she awaited Ser Euron’s response, but her composure never faltered. It was always like this when one meandered into the lands of new acquaintance.
Much to Selvyra’s benefit, the high lord-to-be seemed to be of the refreshingly decent and courteous sort. He had praise both for her and his escorts, and she couldn’t well tell if he was sincere either. Imperceptivity slightly, her smile widened. Not only was Euron proving to be well versed in sharing pleasantries, but he had just revealed a curious mind. It took some effort for Selly to keep a sort of vigil sharpness from ruining the casually polite look in her eyes. Even so, she was not about to feign complete indifference about the realm of adventure even though it was often found unnatural in fine women. “Perhaps simply no one has returned,” she offered, as commentary on the Sunset Sea. “I find it unreasonable to think no one has attempted, and perhaps reached what lies beyond.” Mysteries lured many people, after all. Were she not bound to her lands and her station, Selly would surely appreciate such journeys.
It occurred to her that he was probably equally as confined. Even though Euron was a man of wealth and privy to much privilege, there were risks he couldn’t afford to take as future ruler of the Stormlands. His life would be a journey through councils and paperwork, an unending tangled string of duties. Selly decided it best not to breach into new layers of this topic.
Besides, Lord Baratheon’s first son was willing to humor her request. Her eyes lit up with slightly warm light. “It appears the future king is kind as well,” she observed, quietly impressed. If he really considered the wishes of all potential ladies of importance around him, he would make a fine ruler, and quite probably a charming husband. Selvyra reached a hand into the air, turned, and pointed back where she’d come from. “I’m looking for a medicinal flower. It blooms silver and white for quite a short time of the year around these parts. We can search for it as far as we travel together towards your destination.” She returned from her view of the distance to wander over to where she’d left her horse. If they went quite far, it was best to bring her along.
Once all preparations were finished, Selly would arrange beside Euron, on the opposite side to Addam, both of their teams of knights coming to flank them at a reasonable distance. “Just let me know if you or your hosts spot any.” They would all wait for Euron’s lead to begin the search and travel. When they began moving, Selly would return to a prior idea, taken to a slightly different direction.
“Tell me, Ser Euron, is travelling and exploration one of your greatest passions? I imagine you must have seen quite a lot of the world.”
Post by Euron Baratheon on Jun 19, 2015 18:38:27 GMT
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WE REMAIN COWARDS
"Aye. No one has returned. Their ships dragged down to the watery depths by feral krakens. If the stories are to be believed, that is,"
Gently, he caressed his mount in an attempt to soothe him. He was a gelding, one that Euron had gotten a couple of name days passed. They said that gelding a horse would make him less hormonal, make him easier to deal with but that was never the case with Euron's old boy. He was wild and never at ease unless he was on the move. In that respect, there was no horse better suited to the young heir.
He let out a light chuckle. "The Lord of Storm's End wears no crown. Even so, could you call me a king?" he asked, but it was not a question that he expected an answer to. In truth, he didn't even want to hear an answer. The Baratheons dipped their heads and laid their crown at the feet of the Conqueror years ago during the great conquest and the title of Storm King had been vacant since. "We have not seen a recognized Baratheon king in centuries," he sighed but there was no indication of treason in his voice.
He could feel the restlessness of his mount. "A reasonable task. We will do all we can to assist you," he accepted her request and when all of the preparations were done, he urged the gelding on at a brisk enough pace as the others took their favored positions. He looked around, searching for any plant that resembled the description that Lady Selvyra had given them. Euron could not claim to be an expert in botany and before the day was done, he was sure that he would embarrass himself perhaps once or twice by misidentifying a flower.
It was a medicinal plant. That was what she had said earlier and he also recalled her mentioning that she was mistress of healing at Casterly Rock. It was not a title that he had heard of before but it sounded impressive all the same. A highborn lady that was something besides a highborn lady was nothing short of impressive in Euron's opinion anyway. Perhaps they were similar in that regard. He did not want to simply be Lord Daemon Baratheon's eldest son and heir, but someone in his own right, Ser Euron Baratheon and later on Lord Euron Baratheon.
"I have seen much. To call it my passion would not be an overstatement either," he admitted. "As a knight, I often travel to different castles for tourneys and the like. And my father would often bring me to the courts of other high lords. Although I imagine a daughter of Lord Lannister would know all about that,"
Post by Selvyra Lannister on Jun 20, 2015 11:02:26 GMT
He was right, of course, the possibility was highly unlikely. Even without the kraken, many other things could go terribly wrong far out at sea. Selvyra nodded curtly to his words, but any follow-up thoughts she could have had were distracted by how Euron tended to his mount, action she spied on very shortly from the corner of her eye. In the absence of luxury to ask directly, one had to gauge the true character of one’s company through every other small detail. But such consideration was aptly blown away by the knight’s correction of a frankly blatant slip of the thought pattern. Even though he made light of it, Selvyra sat quite frozen, staring ahead in confusion of her own inexplicable verbal replacing of lord with king. By the time he was done, she was ashen pale and gripping on the reigns so tightly. What if he thought that she meant something by it?
“I meant ruler,” she finally spoke, all emotion drained from her tone save for something serious. “A slip of the mind, Ser.” With mortification that now spanned miles to accompany. “Forgive me, I did not mean to imply anything.”
The self-directed perplexity stayed as a shadow with her for some time after. What was done was done, however, and if he thought she meant any treason by it she could hardly sway his impression as a stranger. At this awkward juncture, she very well welcomed her own task, if only it could distract from the prior incident. Nothing short of Euron falling flat on his face could bring about equilibrium about embarrassment after how tragic that word swap ended, for Selvyra at least, one who still needed to learn how to properly laugh at her own expense. It was not the way of dealing with such things in her house, where her parents and eldest sister censored any imperfection. A slight like this was inadmissible.
Since she could not simply feed herself to kraken at this point, Selly nervously continued on alongside Euron, searching for the flower with only half the focus on her side of the field. The confident pacing of Lyria, her horse, began inspiring some rehabilitation to her own lost composure. Euron talking plainly even after also helped, and she was, again, grateful for his kindness. When it came to his knighthood and the activities associated with it, he reminded her of her brother, Tybalt. The experience with court was something altogether different, however. She finally regained the nerve to glance his way.
“Not so much outside of these lands, Ser,” she responded, betraying none of the associated bitterness. “I have been granted little opportunity to leave home, but I treasure the few exceptions.” During which, it seemed, their paths had never crossed. “What I know I know from rumor and what gets written that I can see.” It was her brothers and sister who were prioritized when it came to worldly exposure. But Dirk Lannister was not a name to mention, he had been gone from home for a decade. “My experience with court derives from exposure to lords and nobles here in the west. You could say it has given me the time to pursue other interests as well.” Like getting to know each herb and calmly dealing with wounded men even as they sat bleeding out. Which really reminded her why she had come out here today.
“Since you have travelled so much, you must have met all sorts of people,” she reasoned, turning to him once more from the field where she had been continuing the search. “What sort of men or women have you found to be most worthy of your respect? What were they like?”
Post by Euron Baratheon on Jun 20, 2015 22:13:58 GMT
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WE REMAIN COWARDS
There was nothing that Selvyra Lannister needed to apologize for and although he did not say outright, Euron made it explicitly known with his body language. He could talk for hours about the Storm Kings of old with the good maester when he returned to Storm's End. By now, Euron's knowledge of House Baratheon history could even rival the good maester's but he could never tell the tales with the same allure the more well learned man could. For now though, there was a more urgent matter to attend to.
In reality, there was not much need for a lord's children to stray too far from the nest or in Selvyra's case, the pack. With the exception of the heir, of course. From what Euron knew, the younger siblings were there to be married off to children of their father's bannermen, as to connect both liege lord and vassal. "The Westerlands is beautiful, undeniably," he started with a slight grin. "But there is more. The Kingdoms are seven and it would be sad for any man to die without having seen it in its entirety. Or at least as much as possible," he quickly added at the end. It was unreasonable to suggest that there was any man who would ever see everything the Seven Kingdoms had to offer. Even the most knowledgeable of men learn from books, from the experiences and mistakes of people long gone.
"Perhaps you should accompany your lord father the next time there is an excursion from the Westerlands? A lady should be as worldly as she is mannerly. There are things you cannot learn from your septa,"
Perhaps he was rambling now, just a little bit. In the distance, Euron could see something, most definitely some sort of flower but perhaps not the flower that Selvyra was looking for. He decided to bide his time and when the flower was more visible, it turned out to be nothing more than some random commonplace piece of flora. Of course, Euron did not know its name. Dismissing the false alarm, he focused on her question.
"I've knocked many good men from their horses in the lists," he said, almost boastfully. "And better men have knocked me from mine," he said, this time more modestly. He gently patted his gelding as he spoke. "But just because a man is good with a lance or skilled with a sword does not mean he is worthy of one's respect. In nobles, I look at the way they treat their people. I find that you can discern a lord's nature through how he speaks with his family, with his underlings, with the men sworn to him," but of course there was always exceptions. Some lords were craven fools in truth, others were bold but for every twenty bold craven lord there was a sly and cunning one.
"When it comes to my fellow knights, it is their chivalry that I assess," he told her softly. "After all, chivalry and honor is the only thing that separates a knight from a common killer," the change of tone was sudden but necessary. There was no way that Euron could just sweet coat it. Even if he did, perhaps that would have offended Lady Selvyra. She might have thought that he wasn't taking her seriously.
"But people are people. Those that hail from the Riverlands, those that hail from the Stormlands, those that hail from the Westerlands and even the wildlings that live beyond the wall. They are the same wherever you go, and because they are the same, I can ask you the same question. What kind of people do you respect?" he was strangely curious as to what her answer might be.
Post by Selvyra Lannister on Jun 21, 2015 18:06:14 GMT
He made it sound like it was her decision not to flock away with guards or even of her own accord. The train of worry inside her grinded to a halt to greet annoyance, but the sentiment was fleeting and not meant for him. Selvyra had a very long history of being the one left to tend home when the rest of Casterly Rock’s Lannisters were off to meet the world. “If the wind favors it,” she responded simply, thoughtfully looking ahead. It was hard enough to get a leave to pick or buy her herbs in the Reach, but perhaps it was time to negotiate more freedom. Unconsciously, Selvyra stood up straighter in her seat, her eyes roving around the local flora with practiced patience and new focus.
She listened to him speak of tourneys, or at least begin a point through them. The more he went on the more peculiar it felt to learn he was quite reasonable, noble even by the end. For the most part, Selvyra kept her eyes on the search, catching only glimpses of Euron in-between. The court halls were lined with well-dressed scoundrels everywhere she went, but that she was used to. It was the decent ones she had trouble figuring how to pace around. It wasn’t like she had the freedom to pick her company, not really anyway. The light in her eyes dimmed for a moment of vacant staring at nothing in particular. One day or another she would be sent somewhere probably with even less freedom, and while she did still intend to do her duty, she wasn’t looking forward to the surprise.
What she could do was answer his question. It wasn’t every day that any man cared to even ask her something personal, so might as well indulge. Normally, she would keep to herself, but there was no harm in saying when the person you said it to would simply walk beyond a border that kept you locked in. “People who keep their word and have a love of growing things,” she shared, some sort of fondness slightly warming her eyes as she dared to look up at the few clouds in the sky, but her gaze did not stay there. Instead, it descended to the hill. “I don’t respect people who want to twist and break things down. I feel it takes more effort to create and bring a contribution,” she drew a few lines through the air with her finger.
“I also respect people brave enough to keep to their principles, walking forward, even alone, through all hardship.” The bow on her person felt a little bit heavier then. “Even through ridicule.” She frowned very slightly. “Others may not understand why they do it, but they continue. They have that sort of flame – the sort that makes them find a way through walls. And they don’t just do it to serve themselves, they do it for the very others trying to dissuade them, they do it to protect and keep them safe – even when at the end of the day all they get in gratitude is a disapproving shake of the head.” Selvyra pulled shortly on the reigns to stop her horse then. She went down from her seat, pausing to trail her way to one of the previous flowers she was seeking.
Crouching down, she pulled out a metallic instrument and some sting and cloth, beginning the process of unearthing the flower and wrapping the cloth around the earth-bound roots. “People may be the same, but their customs are different. What passes for decency here may not be the same overseas. I’m not sure you can ask the same question and judge a person by the answer no matter where they’re from. But perhaps you already consider their origins and point of reference.” Selvyra tied the string around the cloth, then went back to her horse to place it within a travel satchel. “I guess it matters what you’re asking the question for – to understand them, or to test them against your own standards.” Finally, she climbed back on her mount and looked over to Euron, her disposition now in tranquil waters where she could watch him from a half-lidded gaze.
“So which one is it, in your case, why do you ask?”
Post by Euron Baratheon on Jun 21, 2015 23:53:29 GMT
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Growing things. He was sure that he didn't mishear her. The love of growing things was not a quality that most maidens looked for., Euron was sure, but he was not in the least bit surprised that it was a trait that Selvyra sought in the people she befriended. The Stormborn knight knew little of plants, and not much about growing things but his word was as good as gold. It was what he prided himself on.
It seemed like Lady Selvyra was gentler than Euron had originally thought yet strong in her own way. "Aye, it is easier to destroy than it is to create," yet it was almost hypocritical what he was saying. In the end, knights were nothing more than killing machines. Razing castles, putting people to the sword, etc. During wartime, this responsibility fell down to the knights. You could argue that it was the lords who gave the commands who should but be blamed but in the end, it was the knights who were doing the slaughtering.
But Euron's young eyes had yet to see war. Yet he could not help but feel like he would one day have to pick up sword and kill for the sake of victory at least once in his lifetime. He thought about what she said for a moment before adding his own response. "And if their principle is to destroy?" he asked. "These people who twist and destroy... if they had reasons for it beyond our understanding then what then?" it was a strange question to ask, one that could potentially end up contradicting one's beliefs. Perhaps it was an inquiry that the knights of the mind, the maesters, asked themselves as opposed to knights like Euron, those who were only good for fighting.
Selvyra had stopped her horse and Euron followed her example. She then crouched down, using some weird apparatus that Euron had never seen before to collect some flower. From where he was, it was hard to see but he tried his best to get as good a look as possible, a curious expression apparent on his face as the Lannister lady mounted again, still speaking all the while. "To understand," he began. "Too often people judge themselves by their intentions and others by their actions," he stated as he thought about Dornish customs, the land that bordered the Stormlands but was so very different.
His attention turned to the flower that she had just collected. "My lady, is that the flower you were looking for?"
Post by Selvyra Lannister on Jun 22, 2015 18:46:27 GMT
Selvyra stared ahead into the unflinching brightness of the horizon. People who enjoyed to grow things were few and far between, if there were any left of them at all. A tranquil stoicism made up her gaze, and even though she had told him what she admired, she was not one of them. The question had not been so much who are you but what do you respect in others. And yet, maybe somewhere deep down, maybe towards people like Euron who seemed good-natured, it was still around. Selvyra did not look into the sky again.
“That is a very vaguely outlined scenario,” she responded initially to his afterthought, and because she knew the core of what he was asking, she had to wonder if she should answer it at all. For Euron to have asked it so delicately, she could only guess his current assumption of her was a great deal brighter than any reality. Selvyra released a slow, barely-audible sigh. “It depends what their destruction is about. Destruction is in itself a form of creation, and sometimes to bring about necessary change something must first be lost.” She brushed a hand into the pocket inside her cloak, extracting a little vile with a bluish-brown liquid in it. Turning towards him, she would await for him to pay attention before throwing it for him to catch.
“I had to turn to dust about twenty herbs to make that essence. It should allow for a grown person to stay awake long after they feel too tired.” It had been trialed and tested on Rastan who now instantly turned pale at the sight of it. Selly smirked over to him, knowing full well, then she looked back to Euron. “I’m told it tastes like rotten slugs and mud.” Selly shrugged, pulling on her horse’s reins as she got distracted by the flower. “Nothing’s perfect.”
Once she got back, she listened to what he had to share about something else that she had asked. To understand, hum? Her eyes turned keen alongside a wry smile. “Or judge others by their intentions.” If a lord on his tall chair wanted a man dead, then surely the man deserved to die. “Yes, this is the flower.” She had been so eager to stash it, it only occurred to her to show it once he asked about it. Selly would pretty much keep it high into the air like a prize until all men had become quite aware of its appearance. A short, sweet smile later and it was back to stuffing it into her pack.
In no time they were back on the road, only now she felt less stressed to find more flowers and simply rested in her seat. “So speaking plainly, I would first need to know why a person needs to destroy and what exactly it is that they are targeting. I cannot offer you one answer to suit them all.” But she surely intended to destroy the very people who wanted to see ash just for the sake of the sight, be it within her power. “If we cannot understand it but it appears to be wanton destruction, then something must be done about it.”
She spied on Euron from the corner of her gaze again. “So what use does this understanding have for you? What do you do with it, once you have it?”
Post by Euron Baratheon on Jun 23, 2015 0:48:30 GMT
●●●
WE REMAIN COWARDS
Her answer was a lot more reasoned than he expected. In a lot of ways, Lady Selvyra reminded him of his own sweet sister, more logic than feelings. It was ironic really, considering Alynne Baratheon's obvious disdain for those of House Lannister. Euron wasn't going to mention that in the presence of one of Lord Lannisters daughters and her retainers though.
"To call destruction a form of recreation. I had never thought about it that way," he admitted, pondering the thought. To repeat the sentence in your head a few times did not help as it was practically contradictory. He had to think about it but before he could come to any feasible conclusion, he noticed that Selvyra had taken something out, a small vile. When it became apparent that he was to catch it, he opened up his fist and she threw it accordingly. He gripped it gently as he inspected it, unaware of its contents.
"Hmm," he mumbled curiously as Selvyra explained. He let out a light chuckle when she mentioned about the taste. He was no stranger to foul tastes, all battlefields smelled of shit and tasted of blood, be it yours or your enemy's. He also had a younger brother who believed he could make a master chef's meal with nothing more than worms and mud and as good older brothers do, Euron humored him.
"Is this a gift from my lady to me? This is a most appreciated gesture," he thanked her, as he handed the vile over to Addam. He seemed fairly interested in it. Euron turned back to Selvyra. "Perhaps I should get you a gift too. A gesture of good faith," he said, although any gift he ever got was always bought and never crafted. As expensive as they may be, they would almost always lose out to something handmade.
He thought about her answer for a moment. He was satisfied with it, happy that Selvyra Lannister was a woman of thought of logic. He decided to answer the question that she had set for him. "I would understand my enemies, and my friends as well. You should know as well as I. As high lords, we have to exchange pleasantries but is to say they are genuine?" he started, he was looking straight ahead. "If we were to be attacked by bandits right now, I would like to know why. Is it my money you want? My mounts? Are you working for someone?" he continued, unsure of whether he was being articulate enough for her to understand.
"If I were not a Baratheon, would I have any friends at all? I can never know but... I want to," he murmured in a melancholic tone. He cheered up immediately though. "But my lady must forgive me! The Gods saw fit to bless me with sword and lance skills equal to the heroes of days gone by yet they did not bestow unto me the soft speech of chamberers,"
Post by Selvyra Lannister on Jun 23, 2015 20:14:02 GMT
Her gaze flitted over to him very briefly. For the greater part of a moment she was tempted to let him think it was a favor, but this man did not inspire her to be overly deceptive. Not so far, anyway. “But you have already grated me a gift well before I finally decided on how to return it – you agreed to lend me your focus and time for this search.” The fact that he had not accounted for that actually proved true the more noble side of his character. It was always good to know for sure. That said though, her smile threatened to flick into a smirk. “However, should the good knight feel inclined to be generous on another occasion, far be it from me to refuse.”A Lannister always paid their debts, however, so Selvyra kept in mind to walk a fine line that held that true. Also, for someone with so much gold, this particular Lannister had different currency to offer as repayment quite often.
The core of her next question was lost on the knight, but such was the way of words and people experiencing just budding acquaintance. Even so, she felt she could pick from his answer the bits that hinted at what truly interested her. “So you would understand others for the purpose of knowing what to expect? Becoming a true-seer, one that can decipher deceit.” She briefly reconsidered his other mentions. “Intent and purpose. Of course you’d want to know why exactly you were attacked and if the threat extends to someone else.” So far she was getting that Euron sought to know to protect himself, or confirm theories that he had that also had to do with himself. Typical, really, but the nature of man was by excellence self-centered. The pursuit of knowledge about one’s company rarely strayed from that tenet, and when it did, it was the consequence of conscious choice.
Selvyra actually prided herself on her ability to explore the character of other people. Perhaps they tried to hide amongst gestures of goodwill and pleasant words, but eventually, always eventually they gave themselves away. It came perhaps as a biting of the lip before stating something, which indicated either doubt or nervousness. Other times lord and ladies alike contradicted themselves by saying how much they liked someone, then late in the day proceeding to take a seat very far from said person. The examples were innumerable, much as the web of patterns that she at all times considered.
At the moment, the young woman reflected upon the melancholy ponders of her current companion. Euron seemed to be a highly practical man, at least at first. He recognized a need for pleasantries, and he designed himself in ways that would be gallant. And yet, he was a man who worried over the nature of his friendships and also over matters of deceit. It did not take a very clever person to figure the knight got so tangled into the superficial aspect of his encounters that he ended up not truly sharing any of his essence at all, clearly never getting to glimpse the essence of others. There would be no doubt in his mind over who was his friend and who kept on just pretending for the sake of his title if he had. Selvyra had no such worries. She knew for sure no one truly knew her, and she was equally convinced no one outside her family would have a care should she perish. True friendship she had yet to find.
“Why do you apologize?” She asked, beyond any need for pleasantries. Willingly or not, Euron had offered a true glimpse into who he really was, and he was not in the sort of company who would simply brush it off. “Speak with your words, I don’t require any others. What use would I have for them? I am also trying to understand, so it would not be a mercy to have me weed through more decorated language to get to the essence of your thoughts. We have known each other a horse ride enough to give up some pleasantries, wouldn’t you agree?” She smiled very slightly as she looked over, but her eyes were knowing and clear. “Unless, of course, you prefer not to.”
It was fine to her either way. People who wanted to truly talk to her could, people who chose to lock themselves away in endless shallow interactions could do that instead. Regardless, she was interested to know, and she had very different reasons for wanting to understand. “What makes you so unsure of your friends’ intentions that you cannot know if they are by your side for the title or your person?”
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