⊰ ── ( CHAOS IS A LADDER )

[vaell]

ＬＡＵＲＡＮＥ　ＡＲＲＹＮ ！
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( title. lady of the vale; protector of the vale ) ( tagged. mimi, nathaley, ani | mentioned: tytos, cass ) ( location. kings landing; throne room )


indentthe trip from the eyrie to kings landing had been nothing short of exhausting. whether it was micah complaining about them sitting too close - which was ridiculous and made no sense to her because he was the tallest out of everyone in the carriage, and thus was the source of his own complaints - or the amount of small talk she had to endure between the lot of them, she couldn't stand it anymore. so when she opened the blinds halfway, she was actually relieved to see the capital. winter had settled over the land, leaving even kings landing more dreary than usual, shorn from summer weather and all that came with it. however, the walls of kings landing meant the journey was only but a moment from being over. it didn't even matter that the keep had never been her taste. she needed some kind of reprieve. feeling grateful, she slid the blind shut.

───

indentsituated closer to the throne and the dais on which it sat, but still standing behind the members of house stark and house tyrell, she watched the crown hover above andrik tyrell's head as the septon spoke, proclaiming him to be king of the andals and the first men and lord of the six kingdoms. it was with practiced grace that the septon slowly lowered the crown atop the new kings head. "long may he reign!" were the words he then spoke. "long may he reign," she echoed the septons words, her voice joining in with the multitude of others for the collective agreement: long may he reign. immediately thereafter filling the throne room was the sound of clapping and cheers of the lords and ladies present, laurane's own hands joining in on the applause.
indentas the excitement slowly dissipated into chatter amongst themselves, she turned her gaze to her left, looking up to micah. on both sides of her, her siblings stood. he seemed out of sorts, like he wasn't particularly paying too much attention. laurane cleared her throat expectantly. "i suppose you must be beyond exuberant," testing the waters was what she was doing. her brother's incapacity to understand that adventures and frolicking around the countryside wasn't something that people did during a war had been a topic often argued upon by the two as of late. she wasn't punishing him by having him stay in the eyrie, she was doing it in his best interest. so, yes, she knew that being in the crownlands must feel like the seven heavens to him. she also knew the trip to kings landing had been just as much a joy ride for him despite his complaining. it wouldn't even matter if he didn't want to be attending a pompous event - such as now at the coronation - for he would still be away from their home. "-being outside of the eyrie, that is." the words were so plainly put, and yet somehow they still sought to deliver a passive aggressive sting. how he may find happiness in a place such as the capital, she could hardly know. she shifted her gaze back toward the iron throne and their new king. the bland stone walls of the red keep - matched with the green and gold of the tyrell banners - were less than pleasing to the eye for laurane. if anything, she had been bestowed upon herself an even greater appreciation for her ancestral seat upon this visit. in the eyrie, the walls of the high hall were made up of blue-veined white marble matched with narrow arched windows, and at the end of the hall sat the carved weirwood throne. for all of it's austerity, she felt double the amount of comfort. she couldn't say the same about where she stood in the gallery now.
indent“no matter," she spoke, her gaze turning from micah and then to nathaley, whom was on the opposite side of her, "as far as king andrik’s hospitalities extend, i believe it best suits us that we depart back for the vale at the earliest.” she placed a hand on nathaley's shoulder affectionately, giving her a much warmer greeting than she did micah. with a coronation meant feasts and tourneys, celebrated all in honor of king andrik; and while all of that was a bit out of touch with how laurane would choose to spend her time, they would still be present. however, they would have no need to be accommodated for any later than necessary, no means to stay past their due as the festivities wrapped up. her words had made it clear that she would not budge in her resolve, and most of all not from the likes of her younger brother. but still, he tested her far too often these days, so a warning against any protest in advance may suffice. "and, if you have an objection to voice," she added in a more lowered tone, her cold blue eyes meeting her brothers once more, as it was more directed to him than to the likes of her younger sister, "i would advise against it." even if he happened to be dreading staying at kings landing, she felt he would do just about anything to try and provoke her. he needed to understand that she knew what was best for their house, though the idea of him coming to agree with such a thought had begun to feel further and further away with each coming day. not much had changed since they were children, she supposed; though now with laurane being the true power in the vale, something had shifted between them. it was more and more often she lost patience with his restlessness and even more so with his small acts of rebellion. she loved her brother, truly she did, but it had been hard not to begin to shutdown his antics. maybe he thought her stricter than their parents had ever been. one day he would thank her for it. when she did turn back to nathaley, her hand still resting on her shoulder, she gave her a small, endearing smile. "you look lovely, my dear. travelling agrees with you." unlike micah, nathaley was much more quiet in nature, and that was something that laurane had always favored over her brothers bull-headed ways.
indent"now, if you will," she nodded her head as a gesture toward the front of the throne room. "we mustn't keep our king wondering where house arryn may be." she stepped away from both micah and nathaley, assuming they would join her or find their way to her side some way or another to congratulate the new king.
indentand so she made her way through the masses. so odd it felt, seeing fleeting house colors or even certain garb that would not typically make an appearance back home at the eyrie. there were those wearing heavier clothing, more traditional to colder climates such as in the north, while others donned lighter garments suited better for warmer climates, perhaps as in the stormlands. she herself wore a high-collared dress compromised of whites and blues, her frontmost locks of hair having been braided back to the crown of her head, with long open sleeves nearly like capes hanging from her shoulders. and while her sleeves hung low below her arms, they looped back up to attach to brooches of house arryn heraldry in the middle of her chest. this design meant to evoke a falcon's wings - a popular style worn by both women and men in the vale. ornate, though the colors were slightly faded, aged, even, because of their financial situation. but in regards to any impoverishment, she was certain their newfound alliance with the lannisters would prove beneficial. speaking of, the lannisters were yet another endeavor she must pursue during her brief trip at kings landing, and only the gods know what ser tytos lannister may have in store for her. it would be her first time meeting the man she had been betrothed to - and how strange it was to think that she would be arriving back home with someone new to life in the eyrie. maybe it was only now that she was realizing how painful that sounded. either way, she could only hold onto the hope that the lannister knight may be someone who she could easily live in unity with, not someone who would tire her as how her brother did. she wasn't sure how she would cope if he were anything like micah, because unlike her brother, she would be unable to truly escape him. micah was betrothed, he had been, longer than she, and eventually he would inevitably depart for the stormlands. perhaps she should start looking forward to it; for then it wouldn't be much longer before she could - everyone could - hopefully live in peace in the eyrie. he would become lady cassandra's problem.
indentas she came to a halt in front of the iron throne and the man sitting atop it, laurane lowered herself into a curtsy before king andrik. "your grace," she spoke, awaiting for him to allow her to rise. "it is an honor to be in your presence on such a blessed day. on behalf of house arryn, i congratulate you on your newly found kingship." she would need to convey the loyalty as well as military strength that house arryn presented. they were fully pledged to the royal family and their cause, and she was willing to mobilize the knights of the vale should the need arise. so when she did rise, she offered him a small smile, the corners of her mouth slightly curling upward. "my siblings and i thank you for the invitation to your coronation. it is with my utmost hope that the knights of the vale can be of service to you in quelling this detestable rebellion." her hands clasped in front of her as she spoke. laurane didn't dare throw a glance over her shoulder to ensure that her siblings had arrived behind her, though it was hard to resist the urge. "your grace," giving the new king a nod of respect, she stepped down the side of the dais.
indentlooking to the gallery of guests as she descended, the smile that had graced her features only moments ago had left no trace of itself on her now-stony expression, as impassive as ever. upon the sights of the other houses, though, she felt a muscle in her jaw twitch as she made to rejoin them in the crowd.

[vaell]

ＤＲＡＭＯＮ　ＴＡＲＧＡＲＹＥＮ ！
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( title. lord of dragonstone ) ( tagged. naerys, myrrine | mentioned: asiria ) ( location. dragonstone; great hall )


indenton the dragon lord's shoulder sat a small baby dragon, his claws grasping onto the fabric of dramon's robes. the material hadn't been made worn out as a result of his grip yet, unlike most of his attire. the robes he wore today were dark, deep shades of red matched with black, like most of what he favored to wear. his clothes were finer for the occasion as well, hence the lack of wear from aerador's constant perching on his shoulders, with a silver dragon brooch pinned to his chest above the serpent of the cult of meraxes. as he approached the window in the tower, he felt the young dragons grip tighten. it was obvious, even at this stage of his development, that aerador probably wouldn't be the largest of the bunch. and to be frank, that wasn't really a big concern for dramon. all dragons were a force to be reckoned with no matter their size. but even at his young age, his fire was without mercy, his claws and teeth sharp. raising a hand toward aerador, he stroked his neck. his scales were dark, though unlike mehrunes - naerys' dragon, whom was pitch black like the night sky when it set upon their current home - he had dark purple undertones made pronounced by his gleaming black scales. smiling at his companion, he took his hand away, allowing for aerador to grapple around to his opposite shoulder. it was hard to think that one day men would quiver at the sight of his shadow gliding over their lands, over their keeps and through mountains and trees alike. and even sooner, without even possessing any full-grown dragons, no great house in westeros would dare defy him or his family; not when they will have inevitably taken back their rightful kingdom from the hands of the tyrell traitors.
indentfor now, however, dramon was enjoying dragonstone. though he was more than restless to just attack kings landing already, he had felt more at home here than he had ever in essos. which was ironic, considering most of the great houses spat upon them. either way, he could clearly remember when they first arrived to dragonstone; the salty air smelt of smoke and brimstone, and he had inhaled it like it was the sweetest scent in the world. he remembered the sharp and unforgiving winds that day as they first step foot onto the beach, too. the sight of the keep was imposing, and though he was sure it would fill people with near-terror upon its grimness, he shared no such emotions. it was like he was meant to be here all along, in this new castle dominated by dragon motifs, being surrounded by dragons carved out of stone.
indentlooking out onto the sea from where he stood, he fidgeted with his dragon brooch. aerador peered forward from where he was perched on dramon's shoulder, staring out into the distance just as he was. on the horizon, he could spot the greyjoy sails, though his eyes had lingered on the martell sails - a red sun pierced by a golden spear on an orange field - heading toward dragonstone. maybe it was too late now for him to realize that he knew little about his betrothed, asiria martell, though he mostly blamed that on the lack of care that anyone seemed to have on informing him on such matters. it doesn't matter what she is like, they had said. you'll know soon enough. that had been enough for dramon to stop prodding the subject any further, though he had been a bit put off by it all. he had wanted to learn more about her, this mostly mystery woman that he would be betrothed to, and he was sure the feeling was mutual. so for awhile he had been kept curious. whether that be when he was at the pier with aerador hunting for some fish in the waters, or when he was standing in the great hall with everyone else. but with what he did know of her reputation, or lack-thereof, he knew that her time at dragonstone could pose difficult. not only was she travelling north from dorne and facing a change in climate, but she was also going to be around the dragon lords and ladies and the cult of meraxes. if he was going to be honest, he had no doubt that the cult had hand-picked the princess simply because of her supposedly genial nature. it would mean for less problems.
indentdramon turned from the window of the tower, leaving aerador shuffling for some balance, wings slightly flapping in protest. myrrine had called for his presence in the great hall, along with the rest of his half-siblings, and being late on such an important day wouldn't have the odds looking great in his direction. descending down to the corridors that connected to the the great hall of the stonedrum, he found himself slightly unnerved. it was him who was to have a bride, not his elder brother, and that only meant a significant amount of pressure being placed upon him. the betrothal was a uniting of their two houses, a way to create a new alliance with the dornish and keep them in their pocket for the wars to come. maybe their union could mean more than just that, or so he hoped. he wasn't so sure how he would enjoy life if he had a wife who resented him and kept herself in solitude for most of her time with him.
indentwhen dramon strode through the crimson doors of the hall, he wasn't surprised to see his half-sister already present, her armor shining with the reflection of fire thanks to the scones lining the walls. it was only a year ago that she had returned to myrrine from braavos, and dramon himself had not ended up any more closer to the face-stealer than he had first been when she arrived back. on his shoulder was stillness, aerador's gaze captured by the guards plastered against the walls of the hall, and as used to the sight as he was, he stayed tucked closer to dramon. the dragon lord, however, gave not nearly as much attention to the figures holding their double-ended spears, and instead straight away came to arrive at naerys' side in front of myrrine. considering where the two of them stood, he almost had felt as though he had walked in at an inopportune time, like the both of them had been deep in conversation just before he had wound up in the hall, and he was merely an intruder. "naerys," he gave a nod in greeting to the woman beside him, and then redirected his gaze to the leader of the cult. "mother." behind her, he could see the long, silver body of her snake lounging about the steps leading to the throne. even more menacing were the figures floating around the throne itself, several more notable members of the cult. there was kronos, of course, nearly shadowed where he stood behind the throne, as well as sylvain who stood closer to the base of the throne, along with kaidin and serena, too.
indenthe already knew why they were called here, of course; most of all of them, he knew. "an auspicious day for the residents of dragonstone," he mused aloud, the corner of his mouth twisting in a half-smile. "ironborn and dornishmen, meaning to support our cause. it won't be long before the rest of the herd of the great houses come to heel." his eyes shifted back to his half-sister, sure that she may play a hand in many a downfall in the future, knowing her skills. "whether that be by force or not, i suppose its up to them." aerador's slit eyes had finally been pried from the guards, and instead had fallen upon myrrine. "and if i may add, i do look forward to meeting the dornish princess today," it was as though he had a need to let them know he knew what this arrangement meant to them, how important it was for their alliance. "dorne will come to prove a powerful asset in our ascent to the throne, i'm sure of it."
indenthe felt a sort of anticipation creep up on him again. it would be at any moment now that he would met his future wife. after living his life with the cult of meraxes, though, his face did not betray his thoughts, his expression remaining hardened and serious as he awaited the arrival of their brother and sister, and ultimately of the greyjoys and martells.

[landogate]

𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐒X𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐍

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XXXXXXXXXXXTWENTY-ONE. KNIGHT OF THE KINGSGUARD. KNIGHT OF HOUSE BARATHEON. GAY. LOCATION: RED KEEP. TAGS: ANI, LAURANE,
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xxxBY the gods bennis jumped high when a large fist pounded against the door. a muffled voice filtered through the heavy oak "the night is over baratheon, the kings day has begun. baratheon." like bean didn't know that, he'd been eagerly awaiting the coronation of the new tyrell king, who he had already sworn allegiance to after the old kings death. almost inseparable, beanie took as many shifts as he could to protect the heir, and now new king. he'd taken extra measures to make himself more reliant for the king, answering summons on behalf of his other six brothers in hopes to win the kings favour. though every kingsgaurd was required to attend the coronation, bennis specifically requested to be in the throne room as andrik was sworn in. he placed his diary down and moved about his room silently, stepping over crates and parchment left over from writing letters to storms end, making sure to not tarnish anything with his dirty boots. his infamous white cloak sat draped over the shoulders of a bust used to store his more formal, party wear for whenever he attended a tourney not as a member of the kingsguard, usually whenever he traveled south to storms end.

xxxSOMETHING positive, aside from the new king being crowned, was the possible arrival of his family. as the lady of storms end, bennis presumed cassandra would be in attendance, vallian would also presumptuously attend, for she was one lady who would never turn down an excuse to buy a new gown and turn heads everywhere. he mused around the apartment he shared with other members of the kingsguard, but luckily for him it was deserted, his brothers in arms presumably securing the throne room and the wider red keep. the tides were changing in kingslanding, and bennis felt it was his own personal duty to protect the new king. his own values didn't necessarily extend to the stark princess andrik would soon marry, but there was certainly a feeling of protection for the king's sister. beanie always felt as though he had something to prove, the old, albiet stupid and now deceased tyrell king had appointed a then weak and shy bennis to the kingsguard, either to humor the court that a boy no older than twenty might prove useful in the capital, or only to fill a role in the kingsguard.

xxxHE was certainly happy in the capital though. his best friend in all of westeros was about to be crowned the new king of the seven, or was it six kingdoms? and bennis was able to be with him for a majority of his time, either accompanying andrik, providing a watchful eye or occasionally giving his counsel. though much of bennis spare time away from his demanding duties was spent talking about what fascinating creatures he had seen that day. namely any butterflies. he had a natural affinity to the seemingly most docile or weakest or smallest of animals. for all it said about him as a person, he was a baratheon, a stag, a deer. a natural animal of prey, against the great houses like the kraken of house greyjoy or the lion of house lannister, he was but a small, fraile animal. even if he returned to storm's end with a pardon by andrik he would not be worth much. an introverted boy who could barely crush an ant would be destroyed by the swirling storm that was westerosi politics.

xxxPUTTING aside his own struggles with identity bennis kept getting ready at a reasonable pace. his armor still felt loose at his shoulders. even with all the modifications in the world it's as if he were shrinking. he chewed at his lip and cast his eyes down. though no one was watching him he felt embarrassed and like a bubble in his throat was about to burst. he continued on however, successfully draping the cape around his shoulders and feeling it hit the floor with a thud. a wave of irrefutable embarrassment washed over him again. he always felt as though he were a bride under the protection of her husband when the white and gold cape slunk to the floor and created a small train. though not raised to be a hard, unemotional man, he still felt horrible when standing next to his fellow kingsguard who often times towered over him, their shoulders broader, beards thicker and hearty laughs. in all aspects, bennis was merely a boy, and sometimes in the evenings after a particularly challenging day he would retire to the gardens at night and sob.

xxxAFTER not really putting aside the turmoil of happiness for andrik mixed with the dark swirl of feelings of inadequacy bennis glanced out the window, not yet did the sun reach it's mid morning peak, which meant the ceremony wouldn't take place for a while. if only a few mere minutes would help stabilize his churning mind, he would take them in his hand. once he was dressed in gold and white enamel scales from head to toe he organised the pile of books by his bed. in a small chest, locked by a key were old letters bennis kept from when he kept correspondence even when he was away from the hustle and bustle that was kings landing. most of them were long responses from bennis' part about the abundance of wildlife south of the capital, how many deer he'd seen, or a rose that reminded him of the sigil andrik donned. a small smile came to rest on beanie's face. today was not about worrying about his own swirling thoughts, but instead celebrating the new king. sighing fully bennis pulled himself upwards, tugging at the cloak so that it just barely hung above the ground, it's tassels dangling, daring to touch the ground.

xxxBENNIS swung the door open with a force uncommon from him. it snapped against it's hinges before bennis carefully closed it behind him, inspecting it to make sure he hadn't actually broken it. the corridors, depending on which one you took, were either full to the brim of nobles and high society members waiting around or barren spare a servant or two. when he graced the throne room in all it's glory he couldn't help contain his excitement. like a child on their nameday celebration, bennis was all smiles now. his short journey though semi-abandoned passageways to the throne room made bennis quick on his feet. even though it may be bordering winter in the capital, he still sweated as he quickly paced through the corridors.

xxxUPON arrival to the throne room it was understandably packed. banner men were far and few between, house sigils inscribed from the largest details on gowns and tunics to the smallest pins and ribbons. bennis was able, through the smaller, more derelict passage ways, able to arrive from behind the throne. he took his position quickly, standing as tall as he could with his spine as straight as the edge of his sword. as the ceremony began the hush that fell over the hall was immense, only the septons booming voice commanded the room. bennis, despite wanting to watch over his dear friend, remained fixated on the lords and ladies of the room. he always looked for a serpent, slithering or a dragon's head. he didn't reach for his sword yet, but kept his hands tightly clasped together, as they hung just below his navel. as the septon grew to a close, and the crown was inched closer to andriks head, the words spoken by everyone in that room followed suit, bennis included. "long may he regin!" now, in the aftermath of the ceremony the newly crowned king would be entitled to a long, drawn out procession of nobles from the six kingdoms. house arryn seemed to come first. now bennis wasn't a political man, but he would certainly stand by and listen in, even if it weren't his job. he had a habit of nodding or bowing to people that were not his superior, to which he did so for the lady of house arryn.
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[landogate]

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀X𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑

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XTWENTY-FIVE. LANNISTER HEIR. LADY OF HOUSE LANNISTER. CLOSETED LESBIAN. LOCATION: KINGSLANDING. TAGS: ANDRIK, TYTOS, LAURANE
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xxxTHE notorious wealth and prestige, priscilla had accumulated for her house over the years was immense, but she did inherit a large majority of it. her father was hellbent on hoarding the wealth from the iron bank and never giving back loans. with a war on the horizon, priscilla had made her intentions clear with giving back owed coin, she would not, for either the dragons and their cult or the five-kingdom backed tyrell's could eviscerate them if she pressed hard enough. in the new arrival of war, priscilla had been more than willing to play both sides. it was a taxing time, but the lannisters did have enough coin to last them a hundred years into the future, pray that war didn't fill a majority of it. the lady of casterly rock peered out of the window in her carriage, the looming and bright city began to form more clearly in her eyes, and she was promptly reminded of the disgusting streets of the capital. she slammed her window shut and reclined further into the bench seat. she absentmindedly played with the embroidered edge of her gown as the carriage slowed it's pace significantly. eventually she would call for it to stop completely, before she would ride, accompanied by a selection of her guards, independently to the steps before the red keep. in her own eyes, there was nothing more dangerous than a woman, dressed to the gods approval, riding atop a horse.

xxxTHE small panel that blocked the immediate sunlight from her window was tapped lightly as the wooden abode abruptly stopped. priscilla slammed it open, her fingers wrapping around the small handle. face to face with her driver, he spoke eagerly "we cannot move and further, milady, the streets are more crowded than we expected." grumbling as she nodded and began to move for the door, priscilla cursed out flea bottom for it's rising population. the sun beat down on her face as soon as she stepped out of the wooden box she'd relaxed in for her journey. her jaw was pressed tight as her men passed around stirrups and bits and saddled her horse right in front of her. not her ideal stallion, who was kept to cover mares in priscilla's absence, stood a foot shorter but was well groomed. without the need of her men, she hoisted herself up and swung her leg over. clicking her heels together, priscilla began a procession of knights and guards who followed her into the more ancient parts of the city. a light wind brushed over her face, pushing her loose baby hairs away from her. the majority of her red gown sat splayed over her stallions lower back, her feet only peeking out at the stirrups. she kept her eyes peeled ahead, not wanting to glance down at the beggars dressed in rags.

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xxx"LONG may he regin." she spoke, an applause soon came from her as well, joining the rest of the room. she stood on the right hand side of the room, closer to the middle runway. she was situated behind members of the starks and tyrells, but still fairly close to the front of the room. after the inital ceremony the room broke out into chatter as the great houses began their ascent up the dioceses that the newly crowned andrik sat upon. priscilla glanced around the room, and stood tall enough, angling her head and neck to see the lady arryn at his grace's feet already. so that's what she looked like, she thought. at least the lannisters golden hair would still progress through the generations. perhaps that is why her father chose laurane arryn to be her brothers bride. no doubt she would have nieces and nephews within the year to dote on and spoil. as priscilla watcher her from afar she noticed the little details of how she dressed. the faded nature of her dress spoke to priscilla in a way she thought unimaginable. the finances of her house would improve as tytos brought lannister wealth to the barren vale. priscilla however wore a strikingly different gown, it was a deep lavish red, that funneled around her shoulders, before slimming at her waist and falling down her legs. her sleeves billowed out, forming cones that naturally hung down. her hair was pinned up, yet a majority of her hair was loose. a lannister broach was pinned to the back of her head, dripping in gold and rubies.

xxxPRISCILLA made the next move, pushing forward to present house lannister to the new king. "your grace," she began "house lannister is honored to see you crowned as the king of the six kingdoms." seven now with your northern wife, she thought, but kept her tongue silent. "i and my brother swear that house lannister will bring good fortune to house tyrell in these times." as if priscilla didn't ship grain and coin and iron to dragonstone every month. "house lannister is at your disposal." she bowed as she had done when she first stepped forward, and parted from the dioceses. sharply turning to her brother she spoke evenly, "shall i drop you off to your betrothed?" it was snarky in nature, but despite this she also wanted to meet the lady of the vale.
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[landogate]

𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒X𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋

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XXXXXXXXXXXTWENTY-FOUR. PRINCESS OF DORNE. HOUSE MARTELL. PANSEXUAL. LOCATION: DRAGONSTONE. TAGS: MARKAS, ASIRA
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xxxTHE sea's had been kind to the martell trio. amaris, not one to fancy sea-travel had laced her fingertips with any rope or railing of the ship they shared for her entire journey. one small rock of the ship for her and it was over, so she'd been particularly thankful for the calm waves. the looming fortress was surely something to behold. it took up a large portion of the island, and from her view was tucked away behind thousands of stairs and an ornate gate. her breathing had begun to even out as asira was transported off ship first, to be plucked and prepared for the targareyns. in the jagged bay few other intact ships remained, their sails flying a golden kraken or a speared sun. below a particularly bad set of rocks lie the remnants of a tyrell ship, it's tattered banner hung proudly above crashing waves. amaris pursed her lips together. the blood of old valyria had the potential to cause that to her own house, and it made her nervous. the further north she went, the more anxious she became, which was unlike her in every regard.

xxxAS their own ship came to anchor, amaris felt the bubble of anxiety worsen. asira, the poor girl, was to be handed off to a targaryen prince, and though she believed that they were the rightful rulers of the six kingdom, the cult that worked behind them would ruin asira. she'd prayed in the weeks and nights before their joint departure that she would be granted a visit any time either of the sisters demanded it. she had found herself thinking of all the time she had spent flirting or playing with sunspear nobles at court, if that had been instead with her sister would they still find themselves in this predicament.

xxxTHE wisps of fabric that hung off her body certainly did nothing to warm the princess. she was donned in brown leather that strapped in a continuous overlapping style. the leather was wrapped around her neck elegantly in three seperate lines, each crossing over each other and filtering down her chest to cup her figure. she had no sleeves, the fabric stopping short where her shoulder met her arm. the fabric wisps were deep orange and yellow. another peice of leather cynched her waist, a small brooch sat in front of her belly button, a spear peircing a sun was engraved. the skirt of her dress followed more reach styles of fashion, it wasn't as thick as kings landing fashion usually was, and it wasn't as parchment thin as her usual dresses would be. it was enough to keep her legs warm in her journey. despite working with her tailor to implement more targaryen features into her dress, she had kept her back open. the only armor she wore were her shoulder pads, again made out of leather. she had to remind herself that there was to be no intention of a skirmish breaking out. the martells were there to trade asira to the targaryens, and probably bow again, as allies of the true rulers. she was in no danger, right?

xxxONCE the underside of her boot met the sand of the beach, amaris knew to turn her weapons in. her spear was held by men with serpent broaches, and she haphazardly threw an extra-packed dagger to which ever man could catch it first. she and markas would be escorted yards behind asira and another leige to the targaryens. she turned to her brother, "if we ourselves don't get dragons out of this exchange, then you get to punch me." she joked as her ascent began. why would someone ever create such a lengthy, narrow passageway to a castle, at least there were three hundred and sixty degree views for her to glance over as she made her way to the castle.
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[vaell]

ＭＡＲＫＡＳ　ＭＡＲＴＥＬＬ ！
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( title. a prince of dorne ) ( tagged. amaris | mentioned: asiria ) ( location. dragonstone )


indentin his chambers, markas could hardly feel the rocking of the ship against the waves of the bay, for the sea was calm in receiving the dornish party. he had no desires to be hanging about asiria as she contemplated her last moments of freedom from the dragon lords, and so sought to stay below deck where he wouldn't have to deal with her potential grief. he wasn't bothered by the whole situation, really. he thought it was fantastic that his sister was finally getting out into the world, meaning something. her betrothal to dramon targaryen meant the union of house martell and house targaryen; so that when the targaryens took back the iron throne with fire and blood, dorne would be unscathed. as allies of the dragons, they would have no need for destruction to be wreaked upon their land, as it may just be for the other great houses of westeros. they were playing it smart. the tyrells stood no chance, not in markas' eyes. the targaryens would make quick work of the tyrell allies at some point or another, probably demanding them to bend the knee or suffer the fate of all those who chose not to. smug at the thought of it all, he leaned back in the chair he sat upon. though he could feel that the ship had come to a halt, docking at the port, he didn't take too much skin off his back to hurry above deck.
indentbut when he did finally step foot on the deck of the ship, markas took in the sight of dragonstone. or rather, the small village that they had docked at, located at the base of the island. the cool wind that passed through the air had been enough to elicit a sharp exhale out of the man. he had grown too used to the dryness of dorne, the heat of the south. already deciding that he had spent enough time here, markas shifted his gaze toward the guards standing on the docks, clad in their armor and silver masks. the plank had been lowered, and yet he saw no sign of asiria aboard the ship. it was nearly impossible that she could have ran off somewhere in these unfamiliar lands - no, asiria would never try to do such a thing, even if she desperately wanted to. crossing his arms, in both confusion and as a result of feeling rather cold, he tried to give the guards a reassuring smile as he stood there, maybe just awaiting asiria to arrive from her chambers on the ship. "tardy? on her own reception?" he growled to himself. striding over to the edge of the deck, he placed his hands upon the railing. the guards could wait, they didn't need any excuses from him, nor did they have the right to ask for such. his eyes trailed over the island, falling upon the long, stretching pathway that would likely lead them to dragonstone. he saw two figures making the trip up already and-
indenthis hands tightened around the wooden railing at the sight of asiria's golden dress, slowly growing more distant as with the figure escorting her. a sudden burst of offense had struck him - and not because she was already making her way to the fortress, but because the targaryens had chosen to escort her privately. she may be the one betrothed, though it didn't mean she garnered any more influence than the two of them left behind. it wasn't even his fault; markas was sure that he would have been waited upon before approving that his sister head off with an escort. he was more than just rubbed the wrong way. she hadn't even waited for them, either. didn't give them a second thought as she pranced up that pathway.
indentthat little-
indentslowly, markas turned around to face the guards still waiting across from him on the pier. however, he did not appear livid at all, in fact, he put up the front that he was more genuinely baffled than anything. he didn't want to cause dissension between the martells and the targaryens, so markas was smart enough to keep his wits about him when he made to confront the topic. "i think there's been a misunderstanding," he offered, approaching the plank, though not to cross it. "princess amaris and i, we should have been escorted with princess asiria. i mean no disrespect, of course, but she is my sister after all." the guards before him stood still, not even exchanging a glance to one another. his sister, amaris, had already joined them, taking no haste to turn her weapons in. he watched the men take her spear, and then manage to catch the dagger she had thrown their way. for a second, he thought that they may just ignore the prince of dorne.
indent"prince markas, if you will, with princess amaris." it had not been the response he was expecting; he wanted reasoning, not a gentle prod to get off the ship and join them. it was clear he wouldn't get much more out of the guards, however. so, finding his attempts to converse with the loyalists to be futile, reluctantly he made to cross the plank, coming up beside his sister. he handed the guards a set of twin daggers, pommels embellished with a sun pierced by a spear. in the dreary land that was dragonstone, both he and his sister stood out from their surroundings like a sore thumb, him with his loose-fitted shirt orange with gold and red highlights to reflect the sigil of house martell, and she with her garb less than suited for the dragonstone climate. with dorne having easy access to bright color dyes as well as the way that their garments were meant for the heat, it was obvious that they were only visitors to this island. his eyes had fallen upon the pathway in the distance that they would soon embark upon, of asiria and her escort, trying to keep her in sight as best as he could as she was further and further led away. the sound of amaris' voice had brought his attention back to where they stood, however.
indent"if only our hosts were so generous," he muttered in response to her jest as they began their trek up the pathway. he didn't care too much for the sights that they began to - or would - pass. with the guards trailing behind them, markas made sure to keep his tone hushed. "can you believe our dearest sister left us behind like some sort of an afterthought," the words from his mouth nearly seeped venom. if he wasn't around the guards, he might've even addressed the targaryens willingness to cast them aside as well. he was sure amaris was thinking the same without him having to speak it into existence. "hopefully she won't let this incident get to her head. i mean, it'll only disappoint her in the future." he knew that asiria wouldn't get this sort of treatment again, not here, not at dragonstone. he only hoped she could wrap her mind around that.
indenthearing the squawks of buzzards and crows, markas shifted his gaze toward the sound. there the birds sat perched atop a wooden pole by the pathway. hanging off the pole was a skeleton, donning the green colors of house tyrell. lifting a brow, he glanced to amaris. the targaryens did have a way of showing what happened if you dare defy them, he supposed. "better him than us, no?" he gave a small shrug as they passed by the unnerving sight. markas couldn't help but wonder what asiria had thought when she saw the tattered clothes left hanging upon the skeleton of the dead tyrell loyalist, she having passed it much before them. maybe now she wasn't feeling so proud.

[landogate]

𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐓X𝐓𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘

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XXTWENTY-THREE. LORD OF HOUSE TULLY. CLOSETED BISEXUAL. LOCATION: KINGSLANDING. TAGS: RHEVA, JANESSA, RAYMOND, MENTIONS ANI
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xxxONE thing kermit was grateful for in his journey to kingslanding with his siblings, was the somewhat still warm climate. his tunic hung to his figure and warmed his torso, something that was unachievable unless he wore a thick shawl when in riverrun. snow had not yet fallen in the riverlands, but it was certainly on the way. the fires lit in cauldrons the size of dragons heads were also a great help to warm his body. as the river lord waited on their new kings coronation, kermit found himself making small talk to some of the far lesser nobles of the crownlands. he hadn't been separated from his siblings for long, but mingled among the crowd. "have you heard of the dragonstone rumors?" one noblewoman had asked him. "dragonstone had been abandoned for decades, what of it now? has out new king decreed it to a vassal house?" he questioned. her face scrunched up in disgust, "serpents have been circling that desolate thing for weeks, my son," she paused and lowered her voice, kermit followed along, "my son has got spies out there. he says a dozen tyrell ships destroyed, and a serpents head brooch." kermit shrugged the woman off, "the targaryens have been dead for decades, even if it were an extant branch or even a child, there would be no reason to worry. they have no backing. your son has seen ghosts." he concluded. how stupid could the lesser nobles be? the targaryens had been chased out of kings landing by andriks father a few decades ago. any that had fled closer to westeros were slaughtered, as was the kings right. "you would be wise to not spout targaryen propaganda in a hall of the new king's supporters." he threatened lowly before taking his leave to stand back with his siblings.

xxxIT seemed to be just in time too, as the septon called for silence. he glanced down to his right and bent quickly, pretending to fiddle with his boots. "did you mingle, dear sisters?" his smile was wry and was intended to antagonize them. he expected a quick shove or slap from either one as he raised himself again, pretending all was well. as the crowd followed intently, hanging onto every word the septon spat, kermit found himself thinking of the tourneys and feasts that would take place after the ceremonial traditions were out of the way. every time he had visited the capital, he had been stuffed so full of wine and food he had been unable to even move an eyelash. he broke out of his day dream of the food and wine that awaited him when a strong stare from andriks own kingsguard was pointed at him. he sighed lightly and focused his attention back to the king, whos crown was suspended in the air. "long may he reign." he repeated along with everyone else in the room, arguably with less enthusiasm. just as the crown was placed and applause began to ring out in the silent room a great house decided it was their turn to introduce themselves first. kermit rolled his eyes and turned to his three other siblings. "glad that's over with. do you think it's time for a feast? i'm starving." he complained, glaring around the room like a child.
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[landogate]

𝐄𝐋𝐌𝐎X𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐉𝐎𝐘

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XXXXXXXXXXXTWENTY-SEVEN. GREYJOY PIRATE. LORD OF HOUSE GREYJOY. BISEXUAL. LOCATION: DRAGONSTONE JAIL. TAGS: CULTISTS
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xxxTHE closer he drew to the foggy island the more inquisitive he got. his crew seemed none the wiser when he ordered for the sails to drop and the invoke the use of oars to circle closer. elmo stood at the wheel of the ship, the unfamiliar winter winds brushed against his chest. he must be closer to westeros, but how close? the fog made it impossible to see more than a few yards in front, aside from the looming dark shapes above him. he called for the anchor to be dropped, it would be the wisest option. he didn't know exactly how close he was from the shore of the island, and could only hear the wailing of the wind, the waves and the creak of his own ship. he clenched his jaw and yelled commands to his iron born men. something made elmo uneasy, perhaps it were the looming presence of these dark shapes. what were they? cliffs? a significantly larger ship? perhaps it was a castle far away. the fog did nothing to help his spatial awareness. he sighed and clicked his tongue, urging his sea dog, bear, to follow suit. he padded down the stairs of the landing where the wheel was and swung open the door to his private cabin where it was only slightly warmer. across his desk were old treasure maps he had been ogling the night before, and under them was a thick coat, unfortunately embellished with greyjoy insignia. though there was no golden kraken sprawled across the back of the coat, small details like the house's words what is dead may never die inscribed in gold string across the outer collar of his coat. he didn't bother to throw on a tunic either, just donning the coat over his grey-white shift. as he propped the collar up better he heard the unmistakable creak of his ships hull that sent a wave of anxiety through him.

xxxELMO pushed his door open to face the crew on deck, who partly looked as if they'd seen a ghost. he turned to the closest crew member and before he could ask anything he spurted out "it's dragonstone, those turrets are unmistakable, captain." elmo glanced behind him and sure enough a break in the fog had granted him a wide-eyed stare at the looming castle above. he cursed and tried his best to quickly turn the ship around and get out of their immediate territory. was dragonstone even inhabited? elmo had heard the stories of how cursed it was, a lingering statement of targaryen survival. his hands were white as they gripped the wheel, trying and turning the ship as best he could, but the more he stressed, the closer the ship became to the wall of rock. one fatal move and ── elmo slammed into the wall at full force, the ship now stuck in a particularly bad current. he cursed as the ship turned and was pushed into a patch of jagged rocks. "the hull's been damaged! prepare for a worse sail!" he yelled out. a crew member screamed back at him "you have to dock, surrender if anyone is present!" elmo swallowed, and nodded, beginning to loosen his grip, performing a turn and successfully getting out of the current and sailing horizontal to a beach.

xxxANOTHER quick turn and elmo had rubbed up against the beach, digging into the sand with his now broken hull. there was a sigh of relief audible from his crew that was quickly replaced with an unanimous struggle. elmo jumped from the deck of the ship to the sand below with a grunt and without knowing anything else he was grabbed by two unknown assailants. they each held one of his arms back as elmo began to struggle. "huh?! let- let go of me!" he continued to scuffle with the two men. they remained quiet while a third seemed to appear from thin air. "you'd best be compliant. it makes it easier for my friends here to drag you up the stairs." he offered. elmo spat onto the sand, just above the unknown mans boot. he seemed to sigh and look down. "how unfortunate, we were offering you pristine views of dragonstone, but alas all you'll get to see is the mold of your cell." this figure did not look sympathetic whatsoever, and soon enough it all went black.

xxxWHEN he woke up the smell was what he was met with first. it was salty, and grimy and of oddly enough spices. it reminded him of essos, perhaps mereen or pentos? he struggled to sit up, finding that his hands were bound behind his back. "ah, you're awake." elmo scrunched up his nose and spat onto the ground below him, in the dim light he could see it wasn't even saliva, but instead blood. "who are you?!" elmo accused and tried to move onto his knees. "that isn't important, what is important is why you, a greyjoy, an ally to this cause, has arrived unannounced?" the figure knelt down through the bars to peer into elmo's eyes. "what cause? the dead targaryens? they're ghosts!" he raised his voice, but the figure simply exhaled and stood up and made his exit, leaving elmo screaming for the figure to explain himself.
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[skydust]

✧ 𝐹𝐸𝐿𝐼𝑋 𝑆𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐾
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✧ cis male ✧ 23 ✧ lord of winterfell ✧ tags: Adryana, Lyra (Andrik, Laurane)

A soft glow emanated from the candles lighting the room in the great hall. As well as a pale light coming from the window behind the iron throne, almost making it look luminescent. The lords and ladys of Westeros all wanted to see a crown being put on yet another king's head, anticipating the man in question to step through the doors at any second. It seemed like everyone had shown up to see Andrik Tyrell’s coronation. And while his features remained collected and calm, Felix couldn’t help but worry. While being in a crowded room full of people he’d rather not make small talk with definitely annoyed him, it wasn’t the bundles of individuals in the great hall that made him fidget with nerves. His thoughts flickered to Winterfell, hoping his siblings back home weren’t doing anything reckless. Knowing Rodrik he most certainly wouldn’t bet on it. His mind turned to his sister Lyra, marrying the very King he was at the coronation for. His heart couldn’t help but squeeze at the thought of having to say goodbye to her. Finally his thoughts landed on the recent assassination of the last king of Westeros, and the whispers of Targaryens and serpents floating around. It all left him uneasy. He couldn't help but fidget uncomfortably next to his siblings, trying to keep a cold look off his face. His dark grey eyes already held iciness to them as he waited for the coronation to start soon.
His direwolf stayed at his side, his black fur looking like spilled ink the candlelight. Mist was currently sitting at his side, looking around the room with a dangerous look in it's silver eyes. He was still much small, not nearly the size of a full grown direwolf. But if needed, Mist would fiercely attack anything even if he wasn't at his full size. It was comforting with the wolf at his side, but Felix was still uneasy. He tried to think of every possible thing that could go wrong in his head, but it was already leaving him tired and dizzy. Everyone mingled as they waited, chatting with one another as they talked about politics or gossiped about silly rumors. The lords and ladies gathered all dressed in elegant clothing. Felix supposed he looked alright. He was dressed in furs and leathers, all in a variety of different colored greys. The long black furred coat was a little annoying, especially since the temperature was a tad different then what it was up in the North. Now that winter was fast approaching, everything was going to get cooler. Which was yet another thing Felix had to worry about. The long winters never something to look forward too. Especially up in the North. The trip to Winterfell to King's Landing had been a long one. And for some reason the minute he had entered Westeros, Felix decided he wanted to go back home. It wasn't like he was incapable of sucking up his feelings and putting on a pretty face. He just rather be at home. There wasn't anything in Kings Landing for him. He wasn't engaged like Lyra, he wasn't an heir like Adryana, and frankly he was already regretting leaving the twins alone. He huffed under his breath, not really caring if anyone heard him at this point. He turned to his older sister, Adryana. "Did your coronation take this long to start? I swear it-"
Felix shut his mouth quickly as the eldest Tyrell entered the room. Everything grew silent, all the focus on Lord Andrik as he made his way to the front of the room. The candles caused the dark circles under his eyes to become even more prominent. Felix bit the inside of his cheek as the coronation began. He tried to pay attention, really he did. He just couldn't focus. It seemed that his brain was elsewhere today, which wasn't that big of a surprise. He'd have to learn to control it soon, otherwise he'd probably end up spacing out at the wrong time when something important was going on. Like right now. Felix blinked, focusing again as the the crown was placed on Andriks head of curly light brown locks.
"Long may he reign," he said, clapping along with the thunderous applause as Andrik Tyrell became the new king. Sitting on the iron throne with a stiff look on his face. The very throne his father once sat on. The chattering started up once again, filling the great hall as guests talked with one another or went to give their congrats to the new king. He spotted Lady Laurane Arryn make her way up first, the cold aura of the heir of eyrie radiating off of her. He'd spoken to her on occasion, and the intimidating look on her face hadn't changed. He was sure she felt the same about being here as he did. Both of them wanted to go home. Instead of standing around like an idiot this time, Felix turned to another one of his siblings, trying to gauge her feelings. Lyra (as best as she tried to hide it) had a hard look in her eyes. He could only guess what was going through her head right now. While Felix always seemed to be quite the restless person, Lyra could probably win a prize with how much anxiety was probably surging through her heart. She hid it well, but her eyes looked almost sad. He pierced his lips, putting a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezing to grab her attention. "Are you nervous?" he spoke quietly, pausing before making his question more clear. "About having to stay here?"

[vaermina]

ＭＩＣＡＨ ＡＲＲＹＮxxx
I.xa lord of the valex II.xtagged: laurane, nathaley, andrik, valian, cassandra


indentmicah was quite happy to be in king's landing.
indentno fortress or castle in the six kingdoms could rival the beauty of the eryie, but its elegance has long since become dry for micah. when you spend days on end staring upon the same mountain range or green valley, it becomes lackluster real quick. to be completely honest, micah did not feel like an arryn nor did he have any sort of pleasure being one. the baratheons are known for their strength and fury, for the knights who are born from their blood-line. the lannisters are known for their quick wit and silver tongue, their influence across the six kingdoms undeniable. the tyrells are known for their cunning and power, their realm of the reach important for the economic stability of westeros. the arryns are known for... well, their eloquence and honor. while valemen had once been known to be fine warriors, his parents had cut back on defense during their rule and focused more on solidifying healthy relationships with the other houses through politics and charisma, leaving little when it comes to the art of war. they have their esteemed knights of the vale, but the only the gods know that micah had never been allowed by his parents to abandon his lordship and pursue knighthood. they wanted him to become similar to his sister, laurane who had always been doted upon and held in high esteem by the former lord and lady of the vale. did micah want to be like his sister? of course not. he has never understood the contentedness held by his family when it came to staying in the eyrie. the vale is located on the eastern shores of westeros, a land of fertile soil, large lakes and rough rivers. it's isolated from the rest of the six kingdoms, and the mountains of the moon protect their land from invading armies. it's always felt like a prison to micah, as it's nearly impossible to enter or exit the vale during the worst of winter storms. not to mention, the eyrie is impenetrable. no army has managed to reach the castle, and no house has managed to defile the arryns in their own stronghold. apart from the targaryens of old with their dragons, he supposed. he couldn't exactly remember how the story went, although he knew that visenya targaryen had infiltriated the eyrie courtyard with her dragon vhagar, and when the queen regent of the vale, sharra arryn, found her son, he was sitting on the lap of visenya targaryen. it wasn't long after that the arryns bent the knee.
indentmicah's head was largely in the clouds during the coronation ceremony. he heard little of the septon's speech, save bits and pieces. he was too busy observing the great hall of the red keep. it was a massive chamber, one who could probably store hundreds of nobles at a time. he wondered what the king's court must be like on a day to day basis. the red keep is absolutely brimming with life, always full of people. not much could be the same for the eyrie. the arryn lord barely noticed when the septon finished his speech, placing the crown on top of the king's head. "long may he reign," he repeated, following the thunder of applause that sounded throughout the hall. he wondered what it must feel like, to be in king andrik's shoes. he knew the man's father, the former lord of the six kingdoms, had died several weeks at the hands of the targaryens; or, well, that's what he's heard. there's been many rumors and whispers about the return of the dragon lords. many assumed the last royal valyrian perished in essos years ago. others believe there are younger targaryens, that prince daemon had a secret family in the east. he wasn't sure himself, but either way, someone had murdered the former tyrell king. that was for sure.
indentthe man's gaze flickered to the side when he heard his sister laurane speak. he immediately felt himself prickle at her words. if he were an animal, his hackles would be raising on the defense. simply being around laurane made him irritated. she was unbearable at times, with her harshness and impassivity. her attempt at testing the waters elicited no reaction from him, until she spoke more quietly. a scowl appeared on his face. "you have no soul, you know that?" he growled, ignoring her suggestion wholeheartedly. "whatever." laurane seemed convinced they needed to return to the eyrie as quickly as possible. and for what? to sit and twiddle their thumbs? micah is more than aware that there is a potential war on the horizon, one that all of the great houses would feel. he wasn't sure what laurane's plans are, with her now being the heir. she seemed intent on keeping micah down lock and key, though and micah was sure that he was going to absolutely lose it. between her and the bumbling fool of a seer, micah was not going to survive the next few months.
indenthe followed after his sisters in the direction of the iron throne, where king andrik tyrell sat. the heads of the houses were expected to make their grace with the king, and he knew laurane would not disappoint. this was his chance to slip away. he knew if he tried to prance off with laurane's eye on him, she'd probably have something to say and he was not very interested in hearing a lecture or a scolding. granted, micah's height made him stand out amongst the crowd but he doubted his sister would want to create a scene should she try and drag him back with the rest of the arryns. besides, aren't lords meant to mingle and converse? he didn't want to stand around his sisters the entire time. he's spent so much time locked in the vale this was probably the only time he'd be able to take in the southern scenery before being thrown back in the eyrie for the next long while. one could only possibly question why micah was so hostile at the prospect of returning to the vale but his home-loving parents were to blame. they had not left the vale unless absolutely required, and they had pressured their children into appreciating the sentimental value of their home-land as much as they. unfortunately, their smuggling did little but create resentment. micah wanted to see new things, visit new lands. he wanted to travel around both the north and the six kingdoms, maybe even travel across the narrow sea to essos one day. he was tired of reading about these lands in scrolls and books. he wanted more out of life. surely, anything was better than his current situation?
indentwhile laurane conversed with the king, micah took his leave. he quickly turned his back on the throne and snuck into the crowd. he couldn't really blend in with people; after all, he was taller than most and he stood out like a sore thumb. he gently made his way through the crowd full of nobles. he already knew who he was looking for, though and it didn't take long to find her due to his easy view over the heads of most of those in the throng. cassandra baratheon. cassandra and micah have been betrothed for some time now, although the recent events of the targaryens supposedly returning and the death of the former tyrell king have put pretty much everything on hold in regards to betrothals and marriages for some of the great houses. the lady of storm's end was near her sister, valian. conversing with practically anyone here is better than being around the other arryns, and he hasn't seen cassandra in a while, either. still making his way through the crowd, he approached the baratheons.
indent"lady cassandra?"