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 Daemon Baratheon on Jun 17, 2015 19:21:07 GMT
OURS IS THE FURY
Daemon had no need to put on airs in his own keep. His wooden cane rested against rough stone as the Lord of Storm’s End stood in front of a wide table. A scroll of parchment, a great map of Westeros almost as wide, lay across its surface, yellow and worn on its edges. Next to it, a thick tome sprawled out, its pages open to a section that described a family tree for one of the Great Houses of Westeros — House Lannister. They were but one of several families that Daemon had glanced over as he skimmed through the tome’s pages. And, to mesh with the smell of old paper, the soothing scent of wine filled his nostrils. Daemon sipped from his glass, looming over the text in front of him.
Aside from being a proud lord and skillful politician, Daemon was a loving father. He was not afraid of appearing compassionate and kind to his children, but still demanded their respect and held lofty expectations for their futures. In particular, his eldest son and daughter embodied the epitome of youthful and strong Baratheons, and he looked upon them brimming with pride. Euron would be a worthy successor as the future Lord of Storm’s End, and Alynne proved every bit as fierce as her male counterparts. But both were fully grown stags, unmarried and thus still residing at Storm’s End. In order to keep their house strong for generations to come, that had to change.
Daemon had not made his final decisions. He trusted his kin more than anything else in the world, and even though his final decisions would be uncompromising, he wanted to discuss his plans with his children first. He loved and respected them enough to hear what they might have to say. But when he summoned them to meet him in his great study, Daemon refrained from telling them why.
Post by Euron Baratheon on Jun 17, 2015 20:19:22 GMT
Euron's eyes slowly opened, the stinging sensation in his head was still present causing him to let out a groan as he forced himself upright. Darkness was all around him, the only source of light being a lit candle at his bedside. Wiping the cold sweat from his face, Euron drifted back to full consciousness. He had a nightmare, a distressing one too as he could feel his heart pounding at an abnormally fast rate.
"I must have fell asleep..." he mumbled to himself as he tried to recall the contents of his nightmare. He remembered men being flung from their mounts to the ground and then trampled over by retreating allies, the clashing of steel against steel still rang in Euron's ears. The images were vague but there was one thing that the young knight could recall quite clearly: a stag on fire.
No, that was wrong. It was the standard of House Baratheon that was on fire.
Dismissing his feverish dream and making a mental note to ask the Maester for some herbs later, Euron got out of bed, grabbing a silk robe as he did so. His father had summoned him he remembered, yet would not inform Euron as to why. The nature of the meeting was the last thing the young knight was thinking about before he drifted off to sleep and had that unsettling dream. He just hoped he was not too late to answer his father's summons.
He was outside of the great study now, the door shut to him as it often is. He thought about knocking but decided against it. After all, it was his father who had summoned him. Slowly, Euron edged the door opened and entered closing it shut behind him. Unusually, the first thing he noticed was not his father but rather the map that was sprawled across the table. The cane and the tome were also noteworthy but they were not the reason why Euron was here. He edged slightly closer to his father, making his presence known with a familiar yet staunch greeting.
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 Jun 19, 2015 3:31:11 GMT
i beg for you to tell me
“please don't cry”
@house baratheon
The amount of loyalty and devotion Alynne held in regards to her kin was unmatched. She held nothing but pride and respect not only for her elder brother and father, but for her house in general. Stags, they were. Strong, stoic, fierce when needed. While other houses played political games and worried over petty gossip, the Baratheons worried about real issues. They concerned themselves with affairs that actually mattered. Alynne was thankful that gossip, lies, and infamy were no words ever used to describe her family concerns.
Alynne was the only daughter and second eldest in the main Baratheon line. With so many younger siblings, she tried her best to mirror the image of Euron and Daemon so that she could serve as a role model for the others. They were both men of their word, and both unflinching in the face of an obstacle. She looked up to them and desperately tried to prove her worth to them.
When she arrived, she found her brother already there. Her eyes fell to the table, and the word Lannister immediately stood out to her. She blinked once, twice. Offering a small smile, she then greeted her brother and father. "Good evening Father, Euron." She came to stand next to the table, curiously peering down at what her father and brother seemed so interested in. She kept silent for the moment, eyes averting briefly to steal a glance at her brother and father before glancing down at the table once more.
Post by Daemon Baratheon on Jun 20, 2015 0:20:57 GMT
OURS IS THE FURY
The doors to Daemon’s study roared as Euron slid through their opening. Tall, handsome, and strong, Euron embodied the essence of House Baratheon perfectly. Daemon smiled proudly at his heir, and nodded his head to acknowledge his arrival. “Welcome, Euron,” he called out. While glancing at the spitting image of Baratheon youth, Daemon wondered how his son would react to the political plots of his father? Though renown for enjoying women, political marriage proved an entirely different pleasure…or pain. Fortunately for Euron, regardless of whom he eventually married, he would inevitably rule over Storm’s End and the Stormlands. Not so for Alynne, who entered the study mere seconds behind her brother.
“Evening, Alynne. There’s wine, should either of you like,” their father’s voice resounded off the walls, as he gestured toward a stone windowsill several feet to the side of the table. Silver goblets stood in the waning sunlight, next to a pitcher half filled with Arbor red. As Daemon enjoyed another sip, Alynne approached the table, and her eyes bounced from map to book to her kin. Daemon took notice, his eyes squinting at his daughter as he lay his glass down onto the map’s portion of the Shivering Sea. Alynne’s eyes had drifted over the current page of his tome, whereupon House Lannister’s name greeted her gaze. Daemon knew she disliked them, their cunning and underhandedness only surpassed by their extraordinary affluence.
“Euron, Alynne,” Daemon began, regardless of his children’s preparedness. “Watching you grow up has made me immeasurably proud. When I look upon the both of you, I know our House is in good hands. And it’s time you both did your duty, as a man and woman fully grown.” Daemon glanced down at his tome briefly, before rising his eyes to meet both of his children’s. “I’ve summoned you to discuss this matter with me. Not many fathers give their sons and daughters a chance to voice their feelings on their own marriage. I will do what must be done for our family, but out of my love for you two, I would at least give you this chance to influence my decision.”
Post by Euron Baratheon on Jun 20, 2015 2:19:41 GMT
Euron accepted his father's greeting, a curt nod of acknowledgement and a warm enough welcome. When Lord Daemon had been the age Euron was now, he had already known fatherhood. More than once as well. He was older now, yet not as aged as he would have people believe. As it would turn out, Euron was not the only one that had been called to the study as a mere few seconds later, his sister had entered.
"Alynne," he greeted.
Euron had rejected the wine at first. A rather subtle rejection with no words, he simply stayed put after it had been offered. However, when the nature of this summoning became apparent, the young heir floated towards where the silver goblets were waiting, yet his ears remain perked, absorbing his father's every word. It was only until Lord Daemon had stopped speaking that Euron poured the wine and a generous portion for his sister as well, should she ask for it.
As the eldest, he felt like it was only appropriate that he should be the first to speak. And that was precisely what he did. "Father," he began after taking his first sip, the sweetness of the wine taking him aback slightly. Euron knew that his father was doing both him and his sister a great kindness by having this talk. Had this been any other lord, this meeting would have gone differently. Rather than a discussion, this would have been the first meeting between Euron and his wife to be, more than likely a complete stranger that he has only ever exchanged pleasantries with if at all.
He thought for a second. Was there any woman in the Seven Kingdoms that he desired in a way besides carnal? If he said there was, then he would have been lying. "I ask only for a girl suitable to be the next Lady of Storm's End. One worthy enough to take our name. Pray tell, have you already found a match?" he inquired.
Whether Lord Daemon saw it fit to wed Euron to some highborn widow or the daughter of a high lord who had not even flowered yet was irrelevant. In the end, he had the truth of it. This was his duty, and it was finally time for him to deliver.
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 Jun 21, 2015 22:01:31 GMT
i beg for you to tell me
“please don't cry”
@house baratheon
The nature of this family meeting was quickly revealed. Alynne would be lying if she said she had not been expecting such a conversation to happen soon, but she lived in denial. She thought that somehow she would live in the Storm's End castle forever with her brothers, watching them all grow up and have babies. Surely this was not a big blow to Euron, for he did not have to move away. He did not have to fear that his wife might be an abusive tyrant. Briefly, the Baratheon daughter closed her eyes and turned her head away slightly. The name Lannister circulated back into her brain, and she felt herself cringe. She was being given an opportunity to potentially sway her father's mind, and this was more than any lady was normally given. She had to take advantage of it. She did not want to live in King's Landing with the devilish Targaryens, and she sure as hell did not want to live in Casterly Rock -- the lion's den.
"Jon Stark," she said quietly, timidly. Saying his name made her cheeks tint red. The two had only met once, but she had been enamored with the man. Maybe not romantically, but he was a better option than a rapist or sleaze. "Or, I mean -- whatever you think is best, Father," she added upon hearing Euron's response. He gave a much more diplomatic answer, and she then felt silly. They were being given a chance to speak up about their preferred mates in life, but Alynne knew that her job as a daughter was to make the betrothal process as easy as possible on Lord Baratheon.
After speaking again, she forced a pleasant smile on her face. Their father was a man who always had a plan. He likely already had suitors in mind. For Euron, there were probably several women Lord Daemon could choose from. Euron would be inheriting these lands, after all. It was much harder marrying off a daughter than a son. And Jon Stark likely had several potential wives lining up to be Queen of the North, or whatever title was whispered among the cities these days.
Post by Daemon Baratheon on Jun 21, 2015 23:21:18 GMT
OURS IS THE FURY
Daemon studied his children carefully, surprised with their reactions. Euron immediately deferred to his father’s whims. Though a respectful gesture and expected of a lord’s firstborn son, the ease at which Euron submitted slightly confused Daemon. His one condition that his wife be suitable to serve as the next Lady of Storm’s End and worthy of the name Baratheon was one Daemon considered without question. He believed several noble women in the Seven Kingdoms posed such a match. “I have several considerations, Euron. Lannister, Martell, Targaryen...you have enough noteworthy options. All strong houses, all with daughters of beauty and character—and all close to our lands to solidify our family’s strength next to the crown.”
Unlike her brother, Alynne meekly suggested a name. Daemon’s eyes locked onto his daughter, watching her cheeks redden into the same shade as his wine. She surprised him more than Euron, as Alynne had a reputation as a fierce woman unafraid of voicing her mind. Yet she spoke her chosen name timidly, before quickly following up with a far more traditional response. A sudden smile tried to hide her embarrassment, but her words could not be regained once uttered. Daemon reached for his glass and took another sip, closing his eyes and mulling over the name in his head.
“Jon Stark,” he repeated, laying his glass back down on the map. His left hand reached for the great tome in front of him, and he flipped the old pages until an ink direwolf glared back at him. A family tree covered the bottom portion of that page, beneath a wall of text describing the house’s origins. “Firstborn son of the Warden of the North. A suitable match indeed, Alynne.” His eyes shifted from the text to scan the rigid outlines of the North on the map. “The Starks are an old and honorable house. Yet they are further away from our lands then any others, by far. You know this, Alynne. You’d be further from your home than if matched with any other great house.”
Post by Euron Baratheon on Jun 22, 2015 0:25:31 GMT
His father had addressed him first but did not say anything particularly unusual. Lannister, Martell, Targaryen, the three names fought for dominance inside of Euron's head as he tried to picture his potential wife, this time a clearer picture. In the past, he had always imagined a woman, comely of face with hips suitable enough to grant him many trueborn sons.
Golden locks, olive skin, purple eyes.
Euron knew of the disdain that his only sister had felt for House Lannister. They were a people more cunning than gallant, or at least that was how it was for most of them, true enough but that was no ill thing. A child of Baratheon and Lannister would be blessed with both wits and strength. After, he began to think about the potential matches with House Martell and House Targaryen, but his attention was immediately grasped when he heard his sister actually name a suitor.
He turned to look at his sister, her cheeks were red and she was clearly flustered. She had even uttered Jon Stark's name in a tone that Euron was unaware his younger sister was capable of. "Jon Stark is but a maiden," he began, swirling the contents of the goblet as he spoke. His words were harsh, but he made no attempt to cover up his obvious disapproval. He glanced at his father for a split second before turning back to Alynne. "Father has the truth of it. Jon Stark is the heir to somewhere very, very far away from here," he took a sip before gently placing the goblet back on the windowsill. Slowly, he made his way to the great map of Westeros sprawled on the table.
"We share our borders with the Reach, the Crownlands and Dorne," he began. "The North is large and can field a massive army if need be but the Tyrells can match them man for man. Not only that, their wealth can even match that of even the Lannisters and they are our neighbors besides," he continued, his eyes never leaving the map. Suddenly, he turned up to look at his father.
Perhaps his words would earn his sister's spite, but there was nobody in this room who could deny Euron's dedication to his House. "What my dear sister sees in the Stark boy is irrelevant. If we are thinking with our heads and not our hearts, we should arrange a match between Alynne and the heir to Highgarden," he finished as he studied the map again, this time he was looking at the border between the Stormlands and the Crownlands.
"Allow me to ride to King's Landing. I won't return until I can bring Princess Saerysa with me. If I do that, my heir will not only be heir to Storm's End but a direct cousin of a future king," he stopped. Perhaps he was out of line but it was of no consequence. In the end it was his father's decision but Euron was unwilling to allow Lord Daemon make it without having heard his son's opinions first.
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 Jun 22, 2015 2:02:34 GMT
i beg for you to tell me
“please don't cry”
@house baratheon
Two reactions from Alynne would ensue. To Father's response, she merely cast her eyes downward and heaved a silent sight. The North was indeed far from their homelands. But what difference did it make, truly? Would she ever see her father and mother again, save for the birthing of any children she had? And what of Euron and her younger brothers? They were even less likely to travel for any reason to see their sister. And depending on the man she married, traveling to the Stormlands might very well be impossible. At least with Jon, a man she trusted, she knew that she would be given the same freedoms she was given by her parents here in the stormy grounds of Baratheon territory.
"I am aware, Father." She opened her mouth to speak but was stopped short by Euron's even harsher words. And at this, her second reaction was anger. She stood by silently, allowing him to finish his words. Despite how infuriating he was being at the moment, she did respect him and would not interrupt. But she would not stand back and nod along. "How easy of you to possess such thoughts. You will get a beautiful wife who will move here and do everything you say." His suggestion was not as crippling as it could have been. He did not name a Lannister, but a Tyrell was not exactly her dream House either. They were rich and held arguably more power than most of the great houses in the Seven Kingdoms. But she knew nothing of the Tyrells, nor anything about their son. She turned slightly anger-filled eyes from Euron to her father, though they softened with a faint pleading behind them. "Not every man is like Euron. He will be a great husband, a great Lord. I trust Jon. And besides, would it not be wise to have power in the North for when the South turns to chaos?"
It was a situation waiting to happen. News of the current King's senility was spreading fast, and no one could help the feeling of paranoia that something drastic was going to happen soon. The North very well could be the safest stronghold in Westeros. With Euron already connecting himself to the royal family in King's Landing, she felt she could argue that another Southern connection would be irrelevant. The girl who had just moments ago declared indifference toward her marriage proposal was now fighting against both the men's wishes. "Perhaps mother should be here," she added. After all, her mother would understand, wouldn't she? Euron sacrificed nothing in this ordeal.
Post by Daemon Baratheon on Jun 22, 2015 3:16:16 GMT
OURS IS THE FURY
Oh, she knew. His daughter understood the geopolitical landscape of Westeros, no matter how far off they aligned from her heart. Daemon looked at her face, blushed and trying to hide away passion. But he would not be first to reply. Euron’s critique was harsh and instant. A maiden, he called Jon Stark, and heir to lands too far from home. He glanced at his father, who returned his look, and held it while his heir continued to lash against Alynne’s desire. As he watched his son place down his goblet and return to the table, he recognized that behind his sharp attack on Alynne’s feelings were practical and strategic observations – and Euron did not err, for the Tyrells ultimately posed a better match for their house. But Daemon would hear out the reasons for Alynne’s feelings, curious in her apparent trust in the young heir to the North.
Alynne would no longer sound shy, nor take her brother’s rejection without resistance. She was not wrong, either, for firstborn sons did not suffer when taking a noble wife into their own home. Euron would inherit Daemon’s title and land one day, but Alynne’s happiness rested on the character of her husband. She trusted this Jon Stark, and Daemon wanted to know why. But Euron had a request to ask of his father before Daemon could ask for more from his daughter. “...Yes, Euron, I have considered that as well. I recently answered Prince Aegys’ summons and met with him on Dragonstone. He intends to visit us shortly, and he may bring Saerysa with him. But in the interest of time, I permit you leave for Kings Landing and meet them first. Do not anger the prince, however. I would not want to see your haste strain my relationship with him or his father. That is of paramount importance.” Indeed, their unofficial pact could make or break the kingdoms.
Daemon then spun to face Alynne, and slowly approached her so that they stood barely arm’s length apart. When she mentioned her mother, Daemon simply sighed. Surely, he would need speak with his lady wife before making the final arrangements for their children. “Alynne, tell me true, how have you come to trust this Jon Stark?”
Post by Euron Baratheon on Jun 22, 2015 17:36:00 GMT
There was no need for him to march. No doubt a raven would be sent beforehand. If his father was to be believed and the prince was planning on visiting Storm's End, why should Euron go to King's Landing in such a haste as though he were a common beggar? All he had to do was wait within the safe confines of Storm's End for the prince's and hopefully, the princess' arrival.
He decided to stay quiet, only nodding as if to acknowledge his father's words. Had this conversation been had this time a few years ago, Euron may have already stormed out to prepare a small host to escort him to the capital but he was older now, and wiser. The prince was of the same age as him, and if his blood was anything to go by, a madness waiting to happen. Euron would not risk angering him, not until he knew more. He would need to ask his father more about the prince's summons later on.
Euron then turned his attention to Alynne, their father having already begun his approach towards her Euron stayed in place and perked his ears. Truthfully, he was interested in what Alynne had to say as well. Why did she trust this Stark boy so much? Perhaps she had forsaken the Seven to worship trees with the northerners? That was another thing, actually. There was no sept in Winterfell, they all took faith with the old gods there.
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 Jun 22, 2015 22:42:02 GMT
i beg for you to tell me
“please don't cry”
@house baratheon
Euron remained silent, and Daemon brought up his summons with the prince. Alynne had almost forgot about it. If it had been another time or place, she would have inquired about the meeting. Exactly what did the first prince want from their father? And why was he now intending on riding to the Stormlands? Alynne did not like it. Nor did she like the prospect of a Targaryen living in their lands, even if it was just a woman. She did not like families so drawn into political scheming. And the way King Targaryen had run the crown into debt years ago for silly things like tournaments and feasts... Alynne could not respect a family like that.
"He was at the grand feast seven years ago in Highgarden. We... We may have only talked briefly, but I know him to be a good and honorable man. And the Starks are famously honest and dutiful. It would take some adjusting, yes, but... If I must be married immediately," Alynne emphasized, hinting that she entirely did not mind waiting a few years--or forever--to get married, "then he is the only man I can think of that I know will cause our house to prosper and myself to be in good hands." She knew her argument was lacking...severely. Merely a boy at the time of the feast, Jon Stark could very well have grown into something different entirely. But she didn't believe it. Then again, her naivety in regards to the goodness of others was an inherited trait from her mother's side.
Post by ASHARA MARTELL on Jun 23, 2015 3:00:07 GMT
i've got darkness and fears to appease
Eventually, the lady of the house would find her way to the commotion like a bee to honey, nevermind that she already knew when and where it would take place. She simply didn't like to be first, and had spent many years finding a wonderful balance of being late but not late enough to be inconsequential in affairs anything less than grim. She found amusement at least in being predictably temperamental, and being late to Daemon's businesses was a pattern from before her children were even born. Old habits do die hard, unfortunately.
Althea would pause as she put a hand on the door, listening to the last few exchanges between her two eldest and her husband with a rapidly developing smile upon hearing Alynne's words. She did enjoy doting on her children, and prying into their personal lives was the best fun she could have! Though she didn't say much to Alynne about it, Althea kept a hawk eye on her family at all events including said banquet at Highgarden. So she did what any dutiful mother would do and stalked down every detail of the little lordling Stark, not from book but by old contacts in the north. What could she say? The lady got bored sometimes.
It's not that she loved Euron or any of her sons less, but Alynne was the special one in her mother's eyes. She was the only daughter in a family of men and that by default made her the apple of Althea's eye, whether she liked it or not. Euron had far more choice in his prospects than Alynne, which only made the lady a more stubborn advocate for her daughter.
"I can vouch for the Starks," announced Althea as she finally decided to slink into the room, with the kind of tone that implied this conversation had been had before. She would smile at Euron and Alynne as she took a natural position on the side of Daemon and the desk. "Other houses may offer greater resources or advantages, but the Starks are not as fickle as they, as our dear daughter has surmised. They would not turn on us. And you know that with but a word I could travel north and negotiate," she pointed out. She was perhaps only slightly biased given having pre-established ties with the great house of the north.
She would turn to her son then with a more critical eye. "As for you, Euron... A Targaryen is an interesting choice. A gamble. I don't want you getting hurt."
Post by Daemon Baratheon on Jun 23, 2015 3:49:47 GMT
OURS IS THE FURY
Daemon’s brow furrowed as he softly sighed. Alynne’s sounded more with filled fancy and the swift beating of her heart than a developed understanding of the man. True, many ladies did fall in love with men they considered noble and gallant despite not knowing much about them—but Daemon expected Alynne to act differently. Still, she was every bit a woman as she was a proud Baratheon. He knew the Starks ruled over the North with honor and the fervent loyalty of their bannermen, but still…to choose the lad after a feast seven years ago? Daemon did not enjoy hearing that, and he picked up on Alynne’s emphasis on the flexible timing of her marriage...
Before Daemon could remark, though, his lady wife had finally arrived to the great study. A northern woman herself, Althea loudly supported Alynne’s words. Daemon silently watched his wife approach his side. Whether or not he immediately agreed with her, he recognized that her statements had sense. And she was still so beautiful, her graceful and black-haired figure gliding along the smoothed stone floors of the room toward him. She had acted coldly during their first months of marriage, a proud northerner carried to the Stormlands against her will. But now with full-grown children of her own, she knew where her new home lay.
“Yes, I know,” Daemon nodded at his wife’s words. But he didn’t want her leaving home, too. He felt that her place was here, at Storm’s End, with him. Even if she was once a Karstark, one who could trace their line back to the same first men as the Starks, this journey was not hers to make...yet. “I’d like to learn more about this boy. Oh, and Euron,” Daemon began, spinning to once again face his son. “The princess is but one of our options, and though I would gladly accept that match, we must make advances on several options to ensure one holds. I plan to send ravens to both Sunspear and Casterly Rock. The daughters of those great houses are exceptional matches for you as well. As for the Tyrells...why, I trust in my lady sister to not forget where her old blood lies.”
Post by Euron Baratheon on Jun 23, 2015 4:47:39 GMT
His mother, the lady of Storm's End had slid into the room and as expected, she had sided with Alynne. She was a northerner from Karhold herself and the Starks would have been her liege lords back when she still bore the name Karstark, a fact that Euron had almost forgot when he was voicing his disapproval of the match between Alynne and Jon. He listened to his mother speak, a tone that suggested that she had been in the conversation from the very start silently waiting for a chance to poke in.
And knowing how nosy his mother could be, Euron did not doubt that she could been listening in the whole time. After standing up for Alynne, she had turned her attention to him, her critical words only confirming what Euron had already thought. She had heard what he said and it was clear to him that she disapproved although her words were less obvious than Euron's.
"All knights bleed, mother," he replied. He had not often spoke of such things with his mother, and he could not say that her approval meant little to him. If possible, he wanted to make her happy and his father too. "This is a risk, aye. Our mad king may see fit to burn me in front of his court for trying to take away his precious daughter. If he even remembers her, that is. The king deteriorates every passing moment. That is no secret," he murmured, truthfully. Even the smallfolk knew that Aenar II Targaryen was not the man he used to be.
Euron straightened himself up. "It may not be long until he starts burning women and children because the voices in his head tell him they deserve it. That is why we need the princess at Storm's End. Not only for our protection, but for hers as well," he crossed his arms and looked around the room to his father, then his mother and finally his sister.
He turned back to his lord father once he had begun speaking though, announcing his intention to send ravens to both Sunspear and Casterly Rock. "It is better to be safe than sorry," Euron agreed. "Send your ravens. Let Lords Lannister and Martell know," his tone was lighter than it was before. "If you'll excuse me, mother, father," he walked past them to where Alynne was, perhaps she was still angry at him and he couldn't have that, could he?
He grasped her hand, raised it up and planted a light kiss. Those lessons in lordly courtesies and manners paid off after all. "I hope you will forgive me, Alynne. I did not mean to make you angry," he apologized, yet refrained from mentioning Jon Stark's name. Euron knew that whether Alynne would be happy or miserable all depended on her husband's character and there was little chance of Lord Daemon Baratheon consenting to marry his only daughter to a man that he did not approve of. One of these days, Daemon would meet with Jon and Euron would be there too. He would make sure of it.
"Our Tyrell cousin will be so disappointed. I know he is quite fond of you," were his last words to Alynne before he turned back to his parents. "I will ride for King's Landing," he suddenly said, remembering what his father had mentioned earlier. He had already given permission for Euron to set out for the capital. He dipped his head respectfully before moving toward the exit.
If Lord Daemon had no intention to stop him, Euron would have been on his way. If Lord Daemon had decided to rescind his permission then Euron did not hear. He was too busy thinking about which horse he was going to take for the journey.
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The skin was created by TIMELAPSE OF WICKED WONDERLAND.
