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 DAELLA BARATHEON on Jun 16, 2015 2:40:54 GMT
'cause i'm just starting to learn
i've always been chasing ghosts
It was important to maintain good relations with the lands and people that they ruled. And it had taken some time, several weeks even, to prepare suitably for the Lannister meet. Saerysa had always though of the lions as beautiful and noble - they were a regal color, while her own more ghostly. The Lannisters had understood the fire the Targaryens possessed long before they saw it from their dragons, and had welcomed them into Westeros with open arms.
Saerysa was travelling with her kin from King's Landing as well as a suitable (but respectable) number of guards. Personally, she thought guards a tip-off of mistrust, but she supposed being safe was better than being dead in the unlikely scenario. They had come with numerous horses, some of which towed the spacious, enameled white and red carriage in the center of the group. All in all, perhaps thirty people or so traversing the road and following the westward sun, now low on the horizon. Sae would move back some of the blinds to stare out the carriage windows: ever closer now they were to the castle over the water, Casterly Rock over the Sunset Sea. She could see numerous torches lit and movement around the stronhold, but it appeared the party wasn't to be in full swing until the Targaryen company arrived.
"It's been so long since I've been to Casterly Rock," Saerysa would murmur as she stared at it. It was kind of like a softer, more welcoming Dragonstone. "I'm actually a bit nervous, really," she said with a shaky laugh.
when it's all said and done, we'll shine like the sun
Violet eyes were locked on her folded hands as if they held all the secrets of the world. All day she had been zoning out, unable to keep her focus on whatever happened to be in front of her. Even the maids had noticed while preparing her for the visit to Casterly Rock. She shrugged it off, said it was nothing, but a pit of unrest settled in her stomach. Something about the Lannister family and their swift acceptance of the Targaryen rule had never settled right with the silver-haired dragoness. There was always the assumption that she was being paranoid, but it was an unshakable force as the carriage brought the woman closer to the lions den.
Movement caught her attention, and Arys lifted her eyes to observe her closest cousin. Following suit, her slender fingers pulled back the blinds of the carriage. Light filtered in to illuminate the small, luxurious space. The cousins both watched the scenery roll into view before their eyes. Casterly Rock was draped in finery befitting such a wealthy house. While Arys had very little in actual dealings with the Lannister family up until this point, she could see clearly that talk of their wealth was not exaggerated. Packed up in the carriage, dressed in all the finery befitting her station, she felt more like a doll than herself. Comparing herself to the woman across from her, she had a sudden wave of inadequacy rush through her. Saerysa had always been the fairest, in her opinion. There was no competition between the two, but in a woman's world, beauty like that would take her far.
Saerysa's words captured the girl's attention. Turning her gaze to rest on the countenance of her kin, the younger girl offered a reassuring smile in response. Reaching out, Arys grasped firmly onto her cousin's resting hand. "Worry not, sweet Sae. You are as picturesque as ever." Despite her numerous attempts, the silver-haired girl had been unsuccessful in calming the princess. As she turned to face the window once more, she removed her hand. "What would you like to do first, cousin? Once the pleasantries are concluded, of course." Perhaps the key would be to get her mind off the upcoming meeting. As the castle's shape drew nearer, Arys did the best she could to shake the feeling of unease. It wouldn't do to be nervous as well. There was simply no place for an anxious heart among nobility.
Post by Selvyra Lannister on Jun 16, 2015 18:09:51 GMT
Selvyra briskly strode to and fro the elected party chamber, fussing over the floral arrangements all the way along the hallway. In the absence of adequate artisans, she had taken the task of decoration upon herself, and the time was very late to be still making adjustments. “Take the garden pansies out of the way, out of the hall!” She instructed the pair of servants that assisted her. “They’re purple and white and need to be by the chairs, where we await to seat our guests. Who brought them out here?” Her golden gown persistently tried to tangle her legs into a tumble but she expertly guided the folds by pull so her rapid pacing remained harmless. “And remember – serve the first lining of food not a moment before they have arrived. The dishes need to be freshly arranged, given before everything melts into itself.”
Some vigorous nodding and rush of servants later, and they were almost ready to receive. There was still the matter of her siblings, some of whom she did not expect to be attending, one she knew never to expect to walk the halls again. Dirk Lannister had vanished from their shared home since she had been but a child verging on her teens.
By the end of her efforts, the halls were swept clean, every relevant room was blooming with so many flowers, and a lining of red carpets was set to lead out all the way expecting the royal carriage. Selvyra was also there, at the very end, her curly hair arranged in part in a braided bun while the rest of it covered her back and shoulders. Standing demure but aristocratic, she waited in quiet nervousness to greet Targaryens. Perhaps all of her preparation about diplomacy was meant solely to survive though this evening.
Post by DAELLA BARATHEON on Jun 17, 2015 9:04:39 GMT
'cause i'm just starting to learn
i've always been chasing ghosts
Her cousin's words, meant to placate, would only churn the cauldron of her doubts, deep and dark as they were, comprised from all the phases of her life. "But what does that mean, really?" she sighed as the landscape continued to roll on by. Arys's touch would at least embolden her enough to loosen the faucet of her thoughts. "I never worry about us," she started. "I know you can always find the right words to represent us. But what about myself? Pleasantries... you talk as if it were a chore -- as if it some step to a greater goal that we're here for. As if I should know what it is. But I don't. And I never do. I don't know anything. Nobody ever tells me anything. I'm not smart enough to know, right?" By the end Saerysa had turned to her counterpart, the shade of the carriage cutting them apart onto different halves of light and dark as if just to illustrate that distance between them.
Yet not a few moments after their carriage had come to a halt and Saerysa had smoothened herself into regality again: the porcelain princess in her fluffy lilac dress and black choker, hair soft and loose. She had let go of Arys and, seeing as their exit was on Arys's side, would wait for her cousin to disembark first. All around her she heard the calls of their guards and the assembling of a formation in front of the entrance to Casterly Rock. As Arys would step foot on ground, Saerysa would slip down behind her like her pale shadow.
"You should have been princess," she whispered in the girl's ear as the two of them would see for their own eyes the lion's reception. The castle lit up from inside with a hundred gold lights, the outer courtyards for seating the lower class with flowers and their scents assailing them. In front of them, a Lannister highborn every bit as noble as the Targaryens in her own way. Beyond her was the red path that lead straight into the castle, like a tongue welcoming them all into the belly of the beast.
Post by Tybalt Lannister on Jun 18, 2015 2:00:47 GMT
Footsteps echoed slow and heavy through the hall as Tybalt strolled his way past a couple of servants deftly hauling baskets upon baskets of flowers to some unknown location. A smile instantly crept its way across his face as he suspected Selvyra was the reason for their frenzied panic and this suspicion was swiftly realised upon his entrance in to the hall, whereupon he spotted his younger sister fluttering about with all the frantic energy of a butterfly trapped in a glass jar. Tybalt’s smile blossomed in to a throaty laugh.
"You look like if you worry any harder, your head might explode!" His words were loud but his voice was smooth, the aural equivalent of a bold spice as he teased the younger girl. The Lannister knight took one arm and swung it around his sister, steadying her for a moment as his voice lowered to a smoother and more reassuring tone. "Just relax; you’re doing a good job! Mother and Father will be proud of you, I’m sure."
He released his sister from his grip and let her return to her work before taking the time to marvel at what she had been putting together. In truth, Tybalt knew nothing of which flowers went with which drapes or anything of the sort but from where he was standing everything seemed perfect. There was clearly no disguising how much more relaxed Tybalt was about this whole affair.
Selvyra had worked incredibly hard putting this together. Seven Hells, she even picked out his outfit for the occasion and it took a week’s worth of arguing for her to allow him to wear his sword with it! He did feel oh so naked without his armour, but he also hoped this silky red and silver blouse she had strapped him in to was enough to make a good impression on the royal family.
Tybalt continued his stroll through the hall as the finishing touches were administered to the proceedings and allowed his mind to wonder as he pulled at the silvery hem of his dress-clothes. It had been some time since he had last seen the Targaryen sisters at a tourney, and even longer since the royal family had visited Casterly Rock.
Last he remembered, the sisters were both very fair and unmarried. Though he was fully aware of how the Targaryens usually approached marriage, he could not help but fancy his chances with one of them. The prestige of the very opportunity to wed a Targaryen Princess alone was enticing enough that Tybalt did not even mind which one he would have to marry if at all. Of course, none of this was his decision to make but a man could dream.
And by the time Tybalt snapped out of his dream, he was already standing beside his sister at the head of the welcoming party. He looked nervously over at the young girl, more worried about her than he was worried about the Targaryens. For her sake alone he hoped this all went well.
Tybalt forced a smile and for a second his own small flutter of nervousness melted away. As if on cue, a horn sounded the Targaryen’s arrival and their carriage and party of guards swiftly made their way to the entrance of the keep. Tybalt felt his chest involuntarily swell with anticipation and the carriage door opened. Perhaps this was his lucky moment? Perhaps he was finally to know who his wife would be.
when it's all said and done, we'll shine like the sun
Before her eyes, Saerysa's countenance completely changed. Worry lined her face, an almost pleading touch to her matching violet eyes. Those same eyes bore into Arys, slightly shocking her. Rarely would the princess open up about what she was really thinking. During these candid moments, the silver-haired girl knew she needed to pay close attention to what was said. While Sae's initial question confused her, Arys merely waited a breath before the girl began to elaborate on her concerns.
The more her cousin spoke, revealing her own confusion and frustrations, the more she felt her heart sink. There was insurmountable pressure on the sweet princess, that was undeniable. Politics required a finesse for cunning and ruthlessness. One couldn't be afraid to get their hands dirty when dealing with malicious lords and ladies. Debauchery, treachery, betrayal; these things and more awaited those whom entered the political theatre of Westeros. As words spilled from Saerysa's lips, the reassuring smile Arys one sported began to dissolve into a thin line of empathy. Taking a breath, she tried to assuage her grievances.
"Saerysa, you are many things. Kind, compassionate, honest, courteous... but stupid? Never has that word ever been so much as thought about you. Our current matter, maintaining our own relations between houses, was born from your knowledge of their importance." This time, her grin was tinged with slight guilt. "It takes a certain amount of tempered distrust and manipulation to navigate your way through courtly proceedings. Your compassion and genuine kindness, that is what sets you ahead to be a great ruler one day. Advisers will handle the affairs, and I will not leave your side. We are bound by fire and blood, that will never change." As the carriage ended its progression and the door began to open, Arys leaned forward and swept a sweet kiss to forehead of her cousin. In a gathering of skirts, she straightened her back as the click of her shoes met the cobblestone.
You should have been princess.
Those words echoed around in her head like a lost butterfly. Now was not the time or the place to show the range of emotions swirling in her chest; the princess couldn't be serious, could she? However, with Saerysa at her side, the dragoness felt determined. She was happy they could share this experience together. Delicate and pure, she was one of the few good things left in this world of shadows and deception. Long ago, Arys silently bore the yoke of protecting the girl - practically her sister - to the best of her abilities. If nothing else came her way, she hoped that fortune to stay true.
Not missing a beat, lavender eyes surveyed the two Lannisters before her. They were indeed lions, with golden hair like sunlight topping their elegant frames. The head of their guard detail stepped forward, standing at attention to introduce the Targaryen maidens. "It is my honor to present her royal highness Saerysa Targaryen, daughter of our lord and sovereign King, Aenar Targaryen II: King of the Andals and First Men; Lord of the Seven Kingdoms; Protector of the Realm; and her cousin, the lady Arys Targaryen; the first of her name, daughter of the brother of the King." As much as Arys disliked pomp and circumstance, she had to admit the introduction was eloquently put. Offering a pleasant smile to the figures before her, the girl waited for her cousin to speak her piece. It was only customary to those of noble rank, and she knew Saerysa was determined to make an impression. Judging by the look on the Lannister boy's face, that much had already been accomplished.
Post by Selvyra Lannister on Jun 20, 2015 9:17:45 GMT
Selly initially fit into her brother’s hold like a very stiff board. It took all of his words and the restraining quality of his affection to deter her focus. Becoming flexible enough, her posture permitted her to turn and poke at his chest just before he released her, a smile on her face. “But I do relax, at night while I sleep.” She regathered her long complex dress in preparation to continue fussing. “Our guests are nearly upon us. Meet me outside to sit in wait for them?” That said, Selly pretty much turned and was off. Tybalt was easy to be like this with, and sometimes the only man who made her feel like she had full freedom over her own person.
So after she finished directing the preparation they both rejoined outside, sat side by side, both pretty much staring at the incoming Targaryens for completely different reasons. For Selly, this would be the first time in the presence of royalty (she noted the marshmallow called Saerysa) and overall great beauty, for both the Targaryen ladies had hair like clouds and eyes from dreams. If Selly had been younger, she could have flushed in envy. At this age, it just gave her a look of genuine respect and admiration. The young woman dipped into an elegant, courteous bow once the introduction was finally finished, moment that marked the reply to it from the Lannister guard. “Receiving them, Ser Tybalt Lannister, first of his name, and Lady Selvyra Lannister, first of her name, children of Lord [Name] Lannister of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West.”
Once that was over, Selvyra smiled politely to the two Targaryens. “I bid you welcome to Casterly Rock, your grace,” she nodded to Saerysa, “and my lady,” another nod for Arys. “If it pleases you, we have arranged for a feast in honor of your visit.” She turned only a fraction, motioning towards the long, red rugged entry into the Castle, a silent invitation for the two silver-haired women. “I hope your journey here has not been too strenuous?”
OOC: apologies for the wait + I didn’t know if Tybalt has any other titles, same for the yet to be claimed Lord Lannister.
Post by DAELLA BARATHEON on Jun 20, 2015 15:47:55 GMT
'cause i'm just starting to learn
i've always been chasing ghosts
As they were being introduced, Sae found herself looking at people's feet more than anything. It was a bad habit, a terrible habit really, but every time she tried to correct herself and glance upwards she ran the risk of meeting someone else's eyes, everyone else's eyes, and that judgement was just a bit too much on a mind already weighed down with heavy words.
Ruling was an awful lie. Saerysa could never be a ruler. In fact she was terrified of such an outcome, because that would mean that her Aegys would be dead and that the realm would fall into ensuing chaos through her vestal fingers. It had been easy to brush such doom out of the way when she was sitting in the alabaster gardens with only the company of a book newly minted and watery lapping of fountains, but she was out in the world now. And the world was filled with people every bit as noble as her, more so even, people that had less and took more and would continue to take more until they had reached the top and the only thing left to cast down were the gods themselves. She need only raise her head and look ahead to see people who would do better than her.
But maybe there was hope for her yet, if she had strong people she could rely on. Oh, how she wanted to grasp her cousin's hand tightly right then and there and throw her into a hug and tell her that she meant everything, but Saerysa knew that the other great houses were not as open with familial bonds. At least, not in the way the Targaryens knew them.
The marshmallow princess would take in a fluttered breath and raise her head as the introductions ended to smile shyly at the Lannisters - handsome, really, the gold and red combination. Why had she not thought of that before? It seemed much more welcoming than black and red, much more well-intentioned. And she felt like the two Lannisters astride like matching pins were well enough intentioned, though gods know she made that mistake often enough.
"Not strenuous but idle, Ser Tybalt, Lady Selvyra." She would nod politely to each as she referred to them. "A feast would be wonderful; I would not want to keep my hosts hungry, either."
Post by Tybalt Lannister on Jun 20, 2015 17:43:33 GMT
Tybalt bowed in respect and remained silent as his sister spoke to the Targaryen retinue. It was very much her event after all, and if Tybalt had one job amongst the rest of the pageantry it was to stand still and look pretty. Luckily for him, looking pretty came even easier to him than battle. He was going to have no problem fitting in with the rest of the party.
Selvyra led them through the hall towards the feast she had prepared and Tybalt followed on alongside them. He found his way to the side of the younger Targaryen, standing no less than two heads above her. The difference in size between the two was of no surprise considering their difference in profession and, indeed, gender but it served to highlight to him just how long it had been since the four of them had last seen each other.
”It is an honour to receive you both, My Ladies.” He began. His voice was as it had been with his sister earlier: thick but light, with the quality of silk. ”It feels like it must have been a whole lifetime since we last had the pleasure. I daresay I was not even knighted at the last tournament we attended together? Though I could be wrong: taking a lance to the face can do terrible things to a man’s memory.”
A throaty chuckle came forth from Tybalt’s lips. He was referring to an infamous incident a number of tourneys ago where a member of the kingsguard had managed to break their lance after striking his helm dead-on. Not only did Tybalt remain on his saddle but he was able to go for a full two more rounds before the knight finally unhorsed him. He may not have won the event but he had won favour with the crowd for sheer gall and endurance alone.
”I hope to not repeat the incident any time soon, of course but perhaps we will see you at the next one?”
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