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 THE REAVING KING on Aug 18, 2017 4:09:28 GMT
Funeral times were busy times. That was a quote the maester had told Quellon, after the death of his father and brothers. It was true, the Lord Reaver had come to learn. They were busy times—because it was here the seeds were sown for the next funeral.
Quellon, wrapped in grey-gold robes, stood on one of the many balconies that ringed the Red Keep. A book, as always, was near at hand, resting on the lip of the railing. Its cover, a thing of red and black leather, had no title. Quellon flipped through it silently, reading the histories of Valyrian heirs. The Dragonlords were an interesting people. Much could be learned from them.
“Princess,” Quellon said. He spoke in response to the soft footsteps behind him.
He turned half-way, one hand keeping his page in the book, the other resting on the railing. His good eye took in the sight of the royal daughter. Alysannae was who ruled by proxy these last few years. And, if Quellon’s readings had taught him anything, the next heir to the Iron Throne.
“You will be needing my fleet soon.”
There was no need to dance around words. Funeral times were busy times after all.
Alysanne is one of the three Targaryen children who purport they have claim to the throne. The now-dead King decreed Alysanne be Queen, and the unorthodox mother of three plans to become one.
Post by ALYSANNE TARGARYEN on Aug 19, 2017 6:25:05 GMT
The whitehaired matron raised an amused eyebrow at the greeting Quellon gave her without so much as looking in her direction. He was an intimidating man to many, but Alysanne could care less about the tall, brooding men that liked to tower over women.
"You may be right," she said in her normal, airy voice. Even with her father's death still fresh in her mind, she maintained a countenance of lighthearted friendliness. "But perhaps not for the reasons you'd expect. I should probably flee Westeros before one of my brothers figure out killing me will help their ladder climb."
Even though she had not told Quellon of her father's last words, he was smart enough to surmise what kind of dying wish the old king would have. She did not need to say it, but she would just to drive home the effect. "He named me Queen," she said, taking seat at the table and sipping her sweetened wine. "Not that he can actually do that," she jested, "but it was a nice sentiment for a feeble little girl like me, don't you think?"
Post by THE REAVING KING on Aug 19, 2017 18:01:58 GMT
“The last time a dying king named a little girl queen, a civil war burned this continent to the ground.” Quellon flipped through his book. “The Dance of Dragons was a bloody affair. One handled very poorly.
“This will be handled decidedly better.”
Turning to face the princess fully, Quellon fixed her with an unkind glare. The look of a man who would do what was needed, no matter who disagreed or got hurt in the process. Mercy had never been an Ironborn trait—and it had not become one under this Lord Reaver’s rule.
“Your brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, none of them have ruled. But you have.” Quellon sat across from her, leaving his book on the railing. “Your father was wise to name you heir. And he was foolish to do so without more souls to bear witness.
“The Great Council will be a farce. Your kin will be making plans to take the throne for themselves. They will have allies. I am interested in being yours.
Alysanne is one of the three Targaryen children who purport they have claim to the throne. The now-dead King decreed Alysanne be Queen, and the unorthodox mother of three plans to become one.
Post by ALYSANNE TARGARYEN on Aug 19, 2017 18:44:31 GMT
Greyjoys were considered the outsider noblemen, similar to that of House Martell. They were nonconformists, but Alysanne enjoyed Quellon's harsh demeanor. She had never been a fan of sycophants, something that set her apart from her brothers. "Oh, I have no doubt I am the best choice, and that isn't my ego speaking. Merely objectivity."
Quellon and her had an odd relationship that really couldn't be defined by words. It was one where Alysanne knew she was being manipulated and yet allowed it to happen so long as the kingdom still benefitted. "Alright. You've captured my interest." In reality, who wouldn't be ensnared by the idea of the Iron Fleet backing them?
"What do you want in return for open declaration of allegiance to me?"
Post by THE REAVING KING on Aug 19, 2017 18:52:53 GMT
“The Royal Fleet.”
As if reading her mind, Quellon continued. “We Greyjoys have never been trusted. Our past is one of rape and reaving. And that past has kept us weak.”
Quellon indicated the gardens, visible from their balcony seats. “I can name every flower there. Every plant. Every root. My people cannot. They are too used to taking things at random, asking questions after blood is shed.
“Historically, that has been a mistake. But, name me Lord of Ships, give me the Royal Fleet, and my people begin to have a reason to step out of the Iron Islands. To see more of the world, beyond Pyke and its environs.”
If Quellon was a smiling man, no doubt he would be smiling now. Instead he leaned back, his eye never leaving Alysanne—the defenseless, poor, fate-doomed Alysanne. “Give we Ironborn what we’ve never had before, and I’ll bend the knee to you and put you on your throne.”
Alysanne is one of the three Targaryen children who purport they have claim to the throne. The now-dead King decreed Alysanne be Queen, and the unorthodox mother of three plans to become one.
Post by ALYSANNE TARGARYEN on Aug 19, 2017 19:13:57 GMT
Alysanne groaned audibly as he spoke, resting an elbow on the table and her face in her hand. "That is possibly the worst defense for your people I think you could have made. Points for appealing to my love of second chances, though." Quellon was essentially agreeing that his people were nothing but savage rapists and pillagers. But perhaps seeing pretty flowers in Kings Landing would suddenly get rid of their desire to conquer and abuse.
"I can't very well name you until I'm named Protector of the Realms. Only Arkas could appoint you now. All I could offer you, if I agreed, was a promise to name you Master of Ships once I sat on the throne. Unless..." That was exactly what he meant. Which turned the conversation in a much more grave direction.
If he was only asking for her vow to do so, it meant he was fully confident in her winning. And a man like Quellon was only confident in himself. He was the devil on her shoulder.
Post by THE REAVING KING on Aug 19, 2017 20:21:22 GMT
“Half the Royal Fleet is here, and the other half is in Dragonstone. Half a fleet cannot stop me.” Quellon did not break eye contact with Alysanne as he told her his plans to ruin her brother. If she did not break, she’d see in his gaze the conviction of a man who holds no qualms when it comes to murder and death.
“You are the named heir. Dragonstone is yours by birthright. Without his ships, your brother can do nothing. The Dornish will be unable to assist him, for the Iron Fleet will rule the waters and keep them at bay. Eventually they will be forced to surrender. One can only eat dragonglass for so long.
“As for our alliance, no one need know about it. If I reav enough, and if you parley with me, you earn the love of your people. They would give you fancy titles and reward you with men, swords, and reputation. You would be both queen and savior to them. Your brothers cannot claim that.”
Alysanne is one of the three Targaryen children who purport they have claim to the throne. The now-dead King decreed Alysanne be Queen, and the unorthodox mother of three plans to become one.
Post by ALYSANNE TARGARYEN on Aug 19, 2017 21:20:26 GMT
The entire plan was much more conniving than Alysanne was used to. She was a great leader, but she was a flawed person. She was not the wittiest or the most cunning. But she was absurdly aware of the realities surrounding her. "Your entire house is still going to come out looking like the bad guy, and you want me to then give you a position of high authority with the possibility of the kingdom not supporting you or the way I've come into the throne."
Alysanne saw no other way people could perceive the proposed events. "Daeron may very well be infected with madness. His death would be chalked up as a necessary sacrifice. But what of Rhaegar? His greatest crime is stealing the Princess of Dorne, and I'm not too entirely sure the kingdom hates him for it."
"We have to go about things with less confrontation. Or in a way that makes you as well seem a savior. That is, if you want the Royal Fleet." Alysanne did keep her eyes level with him throughout the entirety of the conversation. "I know full well that giving you absolute control of the waters puts you in an extreme position of power -- even more than my own if I am crowned. Don't take me for a fool, Quellon." She sighed and sipped her wine until none was left.
With the sadness of her beloved father passing, her closest friend, Rhaegar, hating her entire being, and her children not stacking up to the potential she believed them to possess, Alysanne turned to wine. Her cheeks blushed slightly as a lovely buzz filled her mind. Thankfully, no one but Quellon was there to see the Queen like this. "I just know that if Daeron takes the throne, he will plunge the Seven Kingdoms into calamity. And if Rhaegar ascends, he won't be able to uphold diplomacy, and that could spell an even bigger disaster." She poured more wine into her chalice. "So when you do decide to snip the strings that attach me to your fingers, don't let my children see."
Post by THE REAVING KING on Aug 19, 2017 22:11:10 GMT
Alysanne was intelligent. Quellon knew that if kept talking, eventually the truth of the matter would be sussed out—only because giving her the half-truth meant giving her plans riddled with holes. That meant a new strategy was needed.
“The fact that Rhaegar has half your ships already means that I already have control of the waters. And yet here I am, trying to barter for your support.” Quellon stood and walked back to the railing. With one arm, he motioned for Alysanne to follow. “We Ironborn have been looked at as savages to be contained for a long time. One way or another, I will change that reputation.
“When I leave here, I will burn your brother’s ships at Dragonstone. That means I will have absolute control of these waters in all but title. As far as I’m concerned, when your father failed to name an heir before all his children, he named me King of the Iron Islands. I have no interest in stretching beyond that—but I do have interest in keeping things that way.”
Quellon pulled another book in his robes. Its cover, one of soft-blue leather, had no words on it. He flipped through the pages almost absent-mindedly. “Time and time again, Iron Kings, Grey Kings, Salt Kings, and Rock Kings have tried to rule Westeros. Fools, all of them. The latest being Harren the Black, who your ancestor killed.”
Quellon stopped on the chapter detailing the life and death of the King of Isles and Rivers. For a moment, he was lost in the stories, the history, the knowledge of what could have been.
Then the book was closed, and Quellon once again was looking at Alysanne.
“Put me into a position to rule the seas and I’ll put you into a position to rule the land. You can do what you want with your brothers once we’ve captured them. The people need not see me as a savior or anything else—only an ally to the queen, and the King of the Seas.”
There was an unspoken threat in what Quellon was saying. Alysanne had no responsibility to take on House Greyjoy as an ally, knowing that there would only be blood in the immediate future. But should she not, then that meant taking House Greyjoy as an enemy—and Quellon, who was already in position to shatter the Royal Fleet, would not be a kind enemy.
Alysanne is one of the three Targaryen children who purport they have claim to the throne. The now-dead King decreed Alysanne be Queen, and the unorthodox mother of three plans to become one.
Post by ALYSANNE TARGARYEN on Aug 19, 2017 22:45:20 GMT
Alysanne perked an eyebrow as he motioned for her to follow. Clasping her drink, she trailed at his side. The situation was finally put into much clearer perspective. "So his fleet burns, or my fleet burns and then his fleet burns."
In all honesty, it made accepting his allegiance much easier. Now, she could make her decision in the face of morality. For the good of the kingdom. That's why her father chose her. Accepting his alliance was the best route. And the least amount of casualties. "Yes, yes. I'll agree to your deal," she sighed out.
"What do you need from me immediately?" she asked, knowing the wake was soon and that Lords from all over Westeros would be in a single location. She downed the rest of her drink and rubbed her right temple in a circle. "I hope it isn't sensibility, because I'm all out of that for the night."
Post by THE REAVING KING on Aug 19, 2017 23:05:22 GMT
And so it was done. Quellon breathed in deeply, his mind abuzz with the happiness that came with victory.
With Alysanne’s allegiance, nearly 300 years of Targaryen rule would come to an end and the Ironborn would be free at last. She had damned all of Westeros to death by drowning—and that meant it could rise again, harder and stronger.
“You’re Queen now. Rule King’s Landing. Talk to the Lords, invite them to the small council meetings, convince them to back you and not your siblings. Treat the Iron Throne as if it is yours, while I handle bringing the rest of this realm under heel.”
Quellon paused.
And then he smiled.
It was dim, lasted only for a moment, but the smile was there nonetheless. His eye turned towards Alysanne. “And I will need you to come to the Iron Islands. To be drowned.”
Alysanne is one of the three Targaryen children who purport they have claim to the throne. The now-dead King decreed Alysanne be Queen, and the unorthodox mother of three plans to become one.
Post by ALYSANNE TARGARYEN on Aug 19, 2017 23:15:10 GMT
Alysanne wasn't necessarily dense, but she didn't have perfect judgment. In her mind, this way was the safest way to take. She didn't think the Greyjoys could really rise up and be something. No one did. But Alysanne could appreciate an underdog, and he definitely was that. Mostly, she overestimated a torn kingdom's ability to fight the Ironborn.
"I'm not entirely sure I can treat the throne as if it is mine if I'm off in the Iron Islands participating in a ritual I don't believe in. You can persuade me and threaten me, Lord Greyjoy. But you can't outright drag me to your lands when the kingdom is in such a fragile state. My answer is no." Despite her hazy mind and sullen state, she was still adamant in her ways.
Post by THE REAVING KING on Aug 19, 2017 23:34:58 GMT
“It was not a request.” Quellon walked back to his seat and poured himself a glass of wine. His body language could easily be read as carrying little for what the queen wanted at this point. “Rulers always seem to think that locations give them power. As if you sitting on that throne makes you stronger. It does not. What you do makes you a ruler, not where you are.”
Downing his glass, Quellon looked back to Alysanne. He did not offer her back the bottle. “If you want to keep my people from starting petty wars and reaving your coast when I die, you’ll want them to see you as one of them. Someone that has their interest at heart. And to do that, you must be drowned.”
Alysanne is one of the three Targaryen children who purport they have claim to the throne. The now-dead King decreed Alysanne be Queen, and the unorthodox mother of three plans to become one.
Post by ALYSANNE TARGARYEN on Aug 20, 2017 3:13:11 GMT
"Please, don't insult me. We both know what this is." Alysanne notably became agitated, something she normally would not have displayed had she been sober. "While what you speak may be the truth, the kingdom will not be stable with a new ruler, who not everyone supports, weeks away from the capital. It will take time." The silvery woman stared daggers at Quellon.
"You've gained monumental ground today. Don't push it. I'm not opposed to severing my own marionette strings." She noticed he withheld her wine. "If you really desire me to be isolated among savages you swear can be rehabilitated, it can wait."
Post by THE REAVING KING on Aug 20, 2017 15:03:17 GMT
“Wine makes people bold. Gives them fire.” Quellon held the bottle up to the light. “My father and brothers loved to drink. You won’t care about this, I know. You still think me a savage. You still think we Ironborn incapable.”
The jarring sound of breaking glass filled the balcony as Quellon smashed the wine bottle on the ground. The alcohol was a bloodstain on the tiles.
“That was a savage thing to do.”
His hand heaved up on the lip of the table, throwing it over the side of the railing.
“That was also a savage thing to do.”
Quellon stood between Alysanne and the exit. Drunk or not, she would not have the strength to get past him. His head slightly hunched, his eye staring at the ground, his arms limp to his side—he looked like a beast, unpredictable, dangerous.
“You do not respect what I am offering you.”
Glass crunched under his boot as he took a single step towards Alysanne. His eye was fixed on her now. In the room behind him, there was knocking on its front door. It was likely the guards, coming to see if anything was wrong. Quellon continued to look at the princess, as if trying to freeze her in place with force of will alone.
“There will be problems in the relationship between our houses if we are not respected.”
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