⊰ ── ( CHAOS IS A LADDER )

[winterfell.]

─ ✧ -- ( ＲＨＥＶＡ ＴＵＬＬＹ ) ─────────────────────────────────
⇉ [ location : red keep ] [ title : lady of riverrun ] [ tagged : janessa; raymond; kermit; ani ] [ 838 words ]


- - - - -King's Landing was absolutely terrifying. Never in her life had Rheva seen so many people congregated in one place. And that was before she set foot in the Red Keep. Her first trip outside of the Riverlands left almost no time for her to actually take in her surroundings. They were summoned to the capital for one purpose and one purpose only: to witness the crowning of Andrik Tyrell, the new King of the Six Kingdoms. She was robbed of the luxury of exploring or careful observation. Instead, they were rushed from location to location, relaxation being completely out of the question. Fortunately, she was able to pack a volume or two for the carriage ride, which made it easier to ignore her brother. Raymond was wonderful. Kermit was a bit more difficult to deal with. Janessa certainly did her best though, handling him much easier than Rheva thought she could. However, the journey over was, apparently, not enough for Kermit to learn his lesson, for he was just as painfully taunting and childish even as they stood in the Great Hall, surrounded by people that none of them knew. Perhaps, if she were in a more familiar setting, she wouldn't have felt this sting of frustration at his comment. But here, unable to fully process what was going on and completely overwhelmed, she was having a difficult time.

- - - - -She paid attention as best as she could, despite her eyes flickering about the room all the while the septon spoke. She didn't mean to be so heavily focused on the guests, but there were just so many of them, almost all of whom she'd heard tales of, but never met. She recognized many of them from their house colors, the Baratheons and the Lannisters and the Arryns. They were all so beautiful, all dressed so beautifully. Never did she think she'd see such a gathering. Even the Great Hall was beautiful, much more lavish than her home at Riverrun. She supposed that was fair though, given that the royal family was bound to have a nicer castle. The golds and greens that adorned the Great Hall were beautiful, tasteful. Different from the reds and blues she was used to, but not an unwelcome sight. The only thing that could have made this whole coronation more picturesque was the to-be king himself. Andrik Tyrell was a handsome man with soft brown waves and a muscular build. However, once he faced the crowed, she was taken aback by his tired features. Dark circles were forming under his eyes, his expression flat and lifeless. Her own expression fell at the sight. The crown was placed atop his head. "Long may he reign," she said quietly, her own voice meshing with the countless others that chanted after the septon. King Tyrell took his seat upon the Iron Throne, leaving the nobles to their own devices.

- - - - -Kermit spoke up again, earning a sideways glance from Rheva, but she wouldn't comment. Janessa could handle that just fine on her own. She was saddened at her sister's comment, being reminded that the last king was dead. While she never knew the king, it was never happy to hear of someone dying. More than that, though, was the fact that young Andrik was forced to take on that title too early, his father being taken from him. That must be why he looks so heartbroken, even after becoming the most powerful man in Westeros. She didn't know how she'd react if she lost a beloved family member, especially during such an important time in his life. It all seemed like too much to put on any human being's shoulders. "He looks so sad." She shook these thoughts from her head, grounded once more as she felt the light tug of her sister fidgeting with the ends of her auburn locks. She hummed, nodding her head. "It's certainly a lot to take in, but everything is beautiful," she said softly. "And it's warmer here," she added, though still not quite as warm as she would have liked. Winter was falling on the Riverlands, cooling it down to the point that she was regularly wearing a cloak if she left the castle. King's Landing reminded her more of her home in summer.

- - - - -Her sister made her move toward the dais and she followed, hoping that her brothers would as well. She had a feeling Raymond wouldn't let her down. Kermit was a little more unpredictable. Several other nobles were showing their respect, the rehearsed formalities seeming to fall perfectly from their lips, their bows practiced and precise. Once it was finally the Tullys' turn, Rheva bowed, following her sister's lead. "I wish you health and happiness, your grace," she said softly. "I'm so very sorry for what you've been through," she added, her voice much quieter this time, as if she shouldn't have said anything at all. She bowed once more and turned away, sticking close to her sister and Raymond as she stepped down from the dais.

[landogate]

𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐒X𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐍

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XXXXXXXTWENTY-ONE. KNIGHT OF THE KINGSGUARD. KNIGHT OF HOUSE BARATHEON. GAY. LOCATION: RED KEEP. TAGS: ANI, VALIAN, CASS
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xxxTHE procession long and drawn out, gave bennis time and an opportunity to seek out his siblings in the crowd. andrik sat as patiently as he could, from what bennis could gather, and began to host nobles on his dais. first the arryns, with their worn frocks, second was the lannisters who seemed far too disinterested for bennis to take a liking to them. the gaggle of tullys, brave and dutiful might be one of the houses that the crown could truly trust, except one of the lords, though unknown to bennis, he looked and sounded arrogant. all sorts of promises and kind words were exchanged as bennis stood behind the new king. for a majority of the procession, beanie remained stoic, hands alternating from his front to his back. he didn't wear his helmet for this occasion, but when he saw valian and cassandra arrive onto the podium he knew he should have. even though his siblings would have been able to pick him out of the kingsguard anyway.

xxxHE swallowed evenly and waited for the worst to happen. cassandra was poised and dutiful, like she always was, and departed the dais as soon as she had said her peace, valian however moved straight to bennis and greeted him. he was courteous to accept her greeting, but glanced anxiously to andrik for approval. this had to be one of the weirdest coronations the six kingdoms had seen for a while. he did however smile neatly at his sister, stepping back further from the king. "valian." he all but hissed as another guard replaced him, stepping further into the shadows. he held his arms out shyly. "these aren't the circumstances i'd wish we'd of reconnected in." a blush crept up onto his cheeks. "it has been too long," he admitted trying to keep his voice down, forever glancing around the room. he should have stayed stoic at his post, only nodding and murmuring a few words to his sister, but he knew he could do that to valian, she hadn't seen bennis for at least a few months. he prodded at his inner cheek with his teeth. "working comes easy when you're with your best friend, i suppose." he offered, still expecting valian to shriek and scream in response, so bennis braced himself. "i will make sure to seek you out at the feast, i promise, but the procession of nobles doesn't just end with you, there are still many lesser nobles andr- king andrik will see." he corrected himself, offering a smile. although he would love to drop everything and spend time with his family, duty called to him above all else.
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[AngelsRuin]

Ａｄｒｙａｎａ Ｓｔａｒｋ~~
---------------------------------------------------------------------------"Ｔｈｅ Ｓｈｅ－Ｗｏｌｆ"
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
➳ Female ➳ Twenty-Four ➳ Stark Heir ➳ Betrothed ➳

Indent If it wasn't imperative for the northern queen to keep up appearances, Adryana probably would've stayed home in Winterfell with her younger siblings, only the gods truly know how much she preferred the stone-cold rooms of her ancestral home over the entirety of the Red Keep. However, much to her dismay, that was not the case and Adryana did need to keep up appearances - if not for the other noble houses in attendance than at least for the Tyrell family. The Tyrells who spear-headed the rebellion that had led to the defeat of the Targaryens just decades ago, the Tyrells whose father's shocking death had been the cause for this abrupt crowning of the heir and oldest son, the Tyrells who one day soon would be considered family - if only because Andrik Tyrell would marry the greenseer Lyra Stark. Which is exactly why the twenty-four-year-old heir of Winterfell was currently nearing the end of a rather lengthy carriage ride, one that spanned the distance from her northern home to the seat of power that resides in the west. Her only reprieve on this trip coming from the near-constant presence of the eldest Stark male, her brother Felix, who had thankfully chosen a trip to Kingslanding instead of keeping an eye on the twins back at home.
Indent The trip itself was rather uneventful, the eldest Stark child choosing to make most of the trip to Kingslanding on horseback as opposed to riding in the carriage - something that was normally expected of a noblewoman on trips such as the one the Starks were making. Although, once their progression south had gotten close enough to the populated city that surrounded the Red Keep, Adryana traded in her trusted stallion for the cramped quarters of the elegantly designed coach. After all, dressed as she was, it was slightly impractical to make the final leg of her trip riding through the city on Silurian. Although she did get slight satisfaction in making her brother endure the closed quarters with her as they neared the castle that inevitably would be their final destination - at least for a little while before they took their leave and made their way back home to Winterfell. At least there was more good coming out of this trip south than just watching the crowning of a new king, this trip beyond the lands of the north meant that Adryana would be able to see her sister at least once more before the date of the younger girl's marriage ceremony.
Indent It would appear to be a blessing in disguise that Adryana's time in the carriage had been short-lived, as it didn't take the Stark progression long to reach the keep in which Andrik's coronation was to be held. The same could not be said, however, for the amount of time that the nobles were given to mingle about as they waited for the appearance of the new king of the andals. Although she knew it was important to acquaint herself with the other family heirs, the northern queen didn't feel any obligation to stray far from her family's side. She didn't have much time to think on such a matter when the chatter of the hall had died down and she took her spot beside Felix at the front of the crowd, mirrored across the aisle by the family in which the ceremony had been designated for. She couldn't deny that the ceremony itself had felt rather drawn out, as the aristocrats waited for Andrik to make his appearance. However, that did not mean that Felix's comment evaded her scrutiny. "Felix!" The eldest Stark hissed quietly, although the wry smile that played on her lips as she turned her head to gaze up at her brother only served as proof that while she had not responded in kind, she really didn't refute his statement. Instead, Adryana leaned her head against the taller boy's shoulder, a slight tinge of annoyance dancing across her features at the fact that despite her age, Felix was recognizably taller than the heir. "To be fair, I believe any opinion I could have would be rather biased." She murmured quietly, trying to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to the brief conversation the Stark children were having.
Indent The atmosphere of the room seemed to change slowly, almost becoming tense, as if everybody waited with bated breath to see when Andrik would make his appearance. Adryana herself straightened up and away from her brother, dropping a hand down to rest on the head of her direwolf pup that was seated beside her. Grey eyes flitted around the room as she took in the other families in attendance before her gaze landed on her younger sister who approached them, giving her a soft smile before the doors opened and the northern queen directed her attention towards a boy not much older than herself. If she was to be frank, it was obvious that the Tyrell boy was not in the best of states at the moment, the dark circles under his eyes only supported her initial assumption. The death of his father was taking a rather harsh toll on Andrik, and Adryana couldn't help but feel her heart go out to her sister's betrothed. Aside from the brief moment of sadness that washed over the girl when she initially took in the soon-to-be king's appearance, the ceremony went off without a hitch the girl supposed. And she, like all the nobles around her echoed the final words that the Septon had spoken as he lowered the crown onto Andrik's head. "Long live the king!"
Indent Adryana only stopped to watch as almost as if there was an invisible bell that went off in everybody's heads, the heirs all seemed to scramble to congratulate their new king. Sending a glance in the direction of her family, she watched silently as Felix turned to talk to Lyra before turning her focus to the rest of the room. Her siblings were smart, they didn't need her dragging them along as she moved to complete a task that was more than expected of her as the heir. Once the coast cleared, the northern queen made her way through the throngs of people until she came to a stop in front of the iron throne and the king who inhabited it. Adryana's head was tilted, a sad smile on her lips as she really got the chance to take in Andrik's appearance. "I'd like to congratulate you on your crown, but given the circumstances in which this day has come, it almost seems wrong..." The Stark queen spoke lowly, her voice laced with undertones of sadness and concern as she really took in the dishevelled male's appearance. I can only begin to imagine the pain you must be going through, I am so truly sorry for the loss you and your family has suffered your grace. If there is anything you need, anything the Starks could provide, anything at all you only need to ask. After all, we're going to be extended family someday." Adryana spoke softly, only removing her gaze briefly from the newly crowned king before her to glance back over her shoulder at Lyra who still remained in conversation with their brother. With a slight nod, the dark-haired woman turned once again to Andrik before bowing low before him, another apologetic smile on her lips as she made her departure, slipping away from the iron throne and leaving the weary male to attend to the remaining members of the nobility who were waiting to address him and express their congrats.

[1265, post 001]
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[landogate]

𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐓X𝐓𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘

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XXXXXXXXTWENTY-THREE. LORD OF HOUSE TULLY. CLOSETED BISEXUAL. LOCATION: KINGSLANDING. TAGS: RHEVA, JANESSA, RAYMOND
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xxxKERMIT, brainless and arrogant, feigned hurt by janessa's comment, clasped his hand over his heart in fake shock, he quickly switched from being a "victim" in janessa's harsh attack, to scowling and openly rolling his eyes like a toddler. "you don't have to be rude about it." he scoffed and followed janessa as she navigated the pool of noble men and women that hung around the bottom of the throne, still muttering under his breath. "i'm just trying to have fun, do you know what that is?" he was getting snarkier and snarkier and the seven protect him, he was going to get it. he sighed and trudged up the steps to the dioceses, attempting to keep his mouth shut as they fronted to the king. the general well wishes and pleasantries were exchanged, and surprisingly kermit allowed himself to be nice, for once. "your grace, we all," he shot a glance to janessa before resuming his speech, "wish to aid you in war that may ravage your realm. you have our undying support."

xxxHE again followed his sister down from the dais, almost skipping, seeing as though the formalities were over and the festivities could well and truly begin. "see, sister? i didn't bring up the kings new enemies on that abandoned island, did i?" he cocked an eyebrow, just openly taunting her at this point. at this rate he'd be banished to sit with the bastards and servants at the feast, away from the section assigned to noble lords. did he deserve it though? kermit would be unwilling to agree. if it did happen, he'd most likely take his leave and find himself in the bustling city, at some less pompous tavern with decent ale and semi-stale bread. he sighed nonetheless, cranky and bored, one quick glance at the door almost made him want to sneak away at that very moment, but he knew deep down the repercussions of janessa's rage in front of every other noble in westeros would be far, far worse than if she scolded him in private.
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[vaermina]

ＮＡＥＲＹＳ ＴＡＲＧＡＲＹＥＮxxx
I.xthe face-stealer of meraxesx II.xtagged: myrrine, dramon, saenera, rhaegon, asiria, cultists


indentthe face-stealer turned her head slightly when she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. it did not take long for her elder brother, dramon, to appear next to her. she couldn't help but eye him critically. she noted he wore dark robes, clothing of simple silk and nothing protective. was asiria to be the only one out of her siblings wearing protective armor? she knew they were meeting allies, but one can never be too careful. the targaryens are widely disliked throughout westeros. it was a miracle they made allies out of the greyjoys and martells, but that's not to say they didn't have something up their sleeve as well. perhaps she was being too paranoid. after surviving an assassination attempt herself, she was always on edge. she supposed it would be inappropriate for dramon to meet his soon-to-be bride in armor, though. "brother," she greeted him thinly. she fell silent as he spoke, mentioning the other great houses of westeros. sheep. she doubted the rest of westeros would bend the knee as the ironborn and dornish have. the martells and greyjoys are cunning; they know that if they refuse to pledge their swords to the targaryens, they would slaughter them in fire and blood. myrrine smiled widely at dramon's confidence. "of course they will. the dornish have always held strong ties with the dragon lords. your father's sister-in-law had been a martell princess before she married into the royal family. i knew they would not disappoint, but let us hope they tread cautiously in our alliance. it would be such a... shame, if we had to treat the lovely populace of dorne the same as the rest of the seven kingdoms." she reached up to carefully straighten any creases found in dramon's shirt. she was careful not to accidentally knock his hatchling, aerador, from his shoulder. despite the many mysteries that surrounded the flame of meraxes, she undoubtedly dotted upon her children. whether or not that affection is true or simply created to trap them in an illusion of a caring parental relationship to ensure their loyalty to her can easily be debated.
indentone by one, the rest of the dragon brood entered the hall. saenera had arrived, greeting her siblings in stiff courtesy before addressing their mother. "i think we have done all that we can in preparation of greeting our dornish and ironborn allies, my lamb. you look beautiful." not that there is really much they can do, apart from appear presentable and level-headed. when it came down to it, myrrine and her cultists pulled the strings and controlled this puppet show the targaryens have found themselves entangled in. without them, the targaryens would be nothing. they would have no dragons, no liable claim to the throne and perhaps not even harbor a clue of their true heritage. myrrine and her followers never hesitated to throw that back in their faces. without the cult, they would not be here, standing in the halls of the fortress created by their ancestors before they ultimately conquered westeros. myrrine and her cultists made them into what and who they are today. while myrrine claimed she simply wanted to see the rightful rulers of westeros placed back on the iron throne, those outside of this sinister group could easily see she wanted to find an easy way to infiltrate westeros; and what's the easiest way to do that than controlling the literal rulers of the seven kingdoms? the cult had been built around the targaryens, but those who have pledged their allegiance to the serpent's head care little for the targaryens themselves. they follow myrrine, who's silver tongue and cunning actions have helped craft an underground empire that rules essos from the inside and out. in fact, if myrrine could sit on the iron throne with no repercussions, she surely would. but she couldn't, so installing a new royal family on the iron throne who she could control and manipulate to her bidding have to do.
indentnaerys' attention flickered when she realized the eldest of the targaryen children, rhaegon, had entered the chamber. as expected, he ignored his siblings. rat. naerys promptly avoids her siblings whenever the chance arrives, but she'd much rather be in the company of dramon and saenera than her eldest brother rhaegon. his volatile nature makes him a bother to deal with, which is probably why their mother is the only one who bothers to intervene with his capricious disposition. still, she'd be foolish to not admit they have their similarities. naerys is just as unstable as he, and where he thrived in brute strength and terror, naerys thrived in horror from the shadows. the face-stealer's attention turned back to myrrine once the woman spoke again, this time retreating to her throne. naerys kept her silence, allowing her brother to speak for them. fester and infect from the inside out. that is what the cult did best. they are pretty powerful in their own right, but they need allies of westerosi blood. as naerys watched silverstone curl around the woman, she couldn't help but reflect to her words earlier, about the betrothal of dramon and the princess asiria martell. she could not help but linger on her uneasiness about the whole arrangement; more so of the fact that dramon has a betrothed and not the heir of the iron throne, rhaegon. no matter how illegitimate they may be, heirs are often expected to marry to carry on the bloodline, even if they do have siblings. rhaegon is not exactly marriage material, but there have been worst kings in their lineage who have rose to power and still took on a bride. unlike her siblings, naerys is often questioning the cult's decisions; something that has landed her in trouble more than once, and was the prime reason she was sent away to braavos for a number of years. she couldn't help but just find it odd. was myrrine using dramon as a cushion, in-case something were to happen to rhaegon during the war? rhaegon and naerys are undoubtedly more dangerous than their siblings, but their lack of stability is their greatest weakness and might even render their own demise. dramon and saenera provide the cult what they cannot; a promise of permanence. there's a reason myrrine did not just stop with rhaegon or saenera when she began to search for bastards of prince daemon. more targaryens means there's less liability to lose everything if one or two of them were to perish; whether it be during the war, or after they claim the iron throne. myrrine would be a fool to limit her options. despite the act she put on, the woman only wanted power. she did not want a family, or children, or a promise of an easy life. she wanted influence. it was easy to present herself as a gentle, compassionate person to the targaryens because it helped strengthen that bond - or servitude, in the case of naerys at-least - they felt towards her for giving them the life they were currently living. naerys watched as silverstone proceeded to uncurl from around myrrine, this time slithering up to the top of the throne.
indent"we have prepared many years for our conquest. we will take back what was stolen from your family. when i first met your father, he was but a shadow of the great prince he used to be. his family, slaughtered mercilessly like sheep by the tyrells and their allies. his sister-in-laws and their babes, cut down without a thought by the treacherous roses of the reach. his brothers left to rot on the battle-field as their throne was taken. you are the last of the targaryens. you must stick close to one another. the great houses of westeros would sooner slaughter you than look at you. but the nobles of westeros will soon come to realize their gods have abandoned them. there is no afterlife; only death." a sharp hiss sounded from silverstone, as if the serpent agreed with her master's words. the tyrells had nearly destroyed the entire targaryen bloodline. it seemed only fitting they return the favor and massacre house tyrell from existence. naerys did not care if they had to strike the tyrells first, or destroy their allies until the tyrells had nobody left to aid them in the war.
indenther attention was pulled from the throne when she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. she turned around, surprised to see the cultist marcun escorting a woman into the chamber. asiria martell. myrrine was up as soon as she sat, making her way down the dais once more as their guests begun to arrive. marcun stepped away from the princess, giving her a curt bow before he turned to the dragon lords. "princess asiria, may i introduce lady naerys, lord dramon, lady saenera and lord rhaegon of house targaryen; the rightful rulers of the seven kingdoms." he put a venomous emphasis on the word seven, to highlight the fact there would be no independent north by the time the targaryens claim the iron throne. the cult spit on the idea of westeros being anything other than what it was originally united to be. "and may i humbly introduce lady myrrine, their mother." the flame of meraxes had drifted down the hall, passing naerys and her siblings to greet the dornish princess. naerys could not help but eye the princess. if there was one thing that could be said about her, is that she's pleasing to the eyes. truly, she looked like a princess. her gold dress contrasted greatly with the dark colors of the targaryens, but it somehow fit her. she was quite beautiful with her fair complexion and dark hair but she's notably small and petite, fragile like some sort of glass doll. anyone in this chamber could probably break her in half like a stick. she probably had not one scar on her body. must be nice. she most likely had a dozen bachelors swooning over her in sunspear before she was betrothed to dramon. naerys has heard that she was a bastard legitimized at birth, but her father's favoritism towards her caused an ultimately unstable core for the martell family. she's heard that she was quite genial, too; the type of nature that the cult could easily manipulate to their cause. nevertheless, she appeared like the type of noble you would hear about in story books, the princess in the large ball gowns with the diamond mirrors and silver crown. ultimately, the type of woman who could swindle their way with lords by looks alone. however, the almost bewildered looks the princess threw at the masked guards and the shadowy figures around the throne did not go unnoticed by naerys.
indentmyrrine approached the princess with a warm smile. "ah, princess asiria. it is such a pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance. you are such a beautiful young woman, truly; what i have heard of you from my advisors cannot possibly compare to your beauty in real life. we welcome you to dragonstone with open arms. what a lovely occasion, to finally have guests step into our halls. and what a beautiful thing it is, to see the targaryens and martells unite once more in marriage." she had taken a hold of the princess's hands as she spoke. she sounded like an ordinary besotted mother-in-law, and it was difficult - perhaps even near impossible - to detect her hidden intentions. alliance through marriage is quite common, but for the cult, it meant just more than combining the martells and targaryens. it means infiltrating dorne through an easier route, festering their way into its court by using the martell princess as their gate-way. it meant for myrrine to possibly gain control of more children with valyrian blood within the next few years, to have yet another cushion to fall back on if the current targaryens perished in the violence to come. but, of course, myrrine's farces make her appear to be a woman she was not and that's exactly how she traps her victims in her snare.
indentprincess asiria smiled, albeit weakly. "i-"
indent"and such a lovely gown, too. it brings so much color to this dreary castle. it reminds me of the beauty of essos, with its brightness. anyhow, if you are to stay here with us you should know the layout of this castle. it wouldn't be much fair to leave you in the dark about where everything is, hmm? dramon," she ordered over her shoulder, beckoning for the young man to step forward. "take princess asiria here and show her around dragonstone. some time alone will be good for you two. i know dragonstone doesn't rival the beauty of dorne, but you shall come to see its charm, i'm sure. in the meantime, we will stay here to converse with prince markas and princess amaris when they arrive. we have much to discuss." she gave asiria another rich smile, as warm as the last. even with her brother exiting the chamber to show the princess around, naerys and rhaegon and saenera would still be present with myrrine and the cultists to discuss their alliances with their new allies. a process that was to for sure enlighten them on what their allies seek from the targaryens in return for their loyalty.

[landogate]

𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒X𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋

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XXXTWENTY-FOUR. PRINCESS OF DORNE. HOUSE MARTELL. PANSEXUAL. LOCATION: DRAGONSTONE. TAGS: MARKAS, ASIRA, CULTISTS, THE TARGS
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xxxAMARIS kept her eyes set forward, not desiring to look at the closer surroundings of the pathway. bodies were propped up by rope for the crows and buzzards to feast on, some more devoured than others. "indeed," she glanced back, their guards were a few steps behind the siblings, "i only hope asira isn't scared by this sight though, it may make her unwilling to co-operate." she bit the inner flesh of her cheek. asira would co-operate, even if she was wrought with fear, but it may make things harder in the future, war would absolutely destroy her. though the princess was used to her fair share of violence, she had never purposefully wrung up her opponent in the wake of their death. many, if not all had the same green fabric of the tyrell banner. "brother, i am sure that they only mean well." she reassured him, keeping her tone even. for all they knew, the two guards behind them could spread word of the siblings complaints to their hosts. "she is after all, the one getting married." amaris cocked her head upwards to see the gold sparkles of asira's dress fade behind the outer walls of the castle. "you mustn't worry, after we depart for sunspear again, she will be well looked after, by her husband and her new family." if amaris was honest, a large chunk of the words coming out of her mouth were falsities and lies, asira would be chewed up and spat back out by this family, but alliances were alliances, and now that was something to remain pure and unbroken. she would not been seen as traitorous with her wording now, not when they've sailed so far to hand off their sister.

xxxWHEN the two of them, accompanied by their guards reached the very top of the staircase, dragonstone's imposing nature was reveled, gargoyles the size of ships stared down at the group, their ship looked as small as an ant, and if she squinted enough she may see the glimpse of westeros' mainland. being up higher however did cause a genuine chill to run up her back, but did not chatter her teeth. "may we pray for a short winter." she mumbled to herself. the group seemed to stall just outside the doors to the hall. turning on her ankles she faced the guards, "might there be a reason to why we must wait here, or have our host's desired a private audience with our sister first?" her words were much more formal than they would be in dorne, there was no place for flirtation here, only fluffy words that didn't mean anything. she looked to markas, to make sure his pride or ambition to have what he wanted get to the better of him, releasing a hand to make sure she had something to grab him with. one of the guards spoke evenly, "you will be granted entry when the princes and princesses grant you entry." amaris pressed her lips into a thin line and raised her eyebrows, "alright then, we will wait."
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[radio.active.]

i former tyrell lady; targaryen loyalist
ii wandering dragonstone keep
iii no tags
iv mentions the targaryens, the tyrells

indentCelesse Waters gazed out one of the windows of Dragonstone as though she would be able to spot the mainland. If she was not mistaken, today was the day her dear insufferable cousin would be crowned king of Westeros.
indentCelesse knew she was right. She had paid an obsessive eye to the few accurate calendars in Dragonstone Keep, cursing her family for daring to sever her, and herself for her lack of enacting revenge in the time since. All that she had done to advance her plot – if it could be called such – was pledging her services to the Targaryens and their cause, even shedding her Tyrell name for the name of Crownland bastards. To Celesse, holding the name of a bastard was more honorable than still calling herself a Tyrell.
indentShe was unsure if the Targaryens trusted her yet, however. Celesse had offered her skills to the possibility of a position with Rhaegon’s kingsguard, but had found herself more or less brushed off. There had been no place for her to prove her loyalty since her arrival to the island, so most of her days were spent wandering the gloomy corridors and sparring in the courtyard. Still, she was determined to prove herself.
indentIdly, she fiddled with the shortsword strapped to her hip. It was unusually ornate for someone of her fortune, leading many to assume she had stolen it. Of course, she had. On her final night with her former family, she had helped herself to some of the items she knew held value to them. Most of the items she had pawned away for safe travel to Dragonstone, but she couldn’t bring herself to part with the jewel-studded weapon.
indentIf all went to plan, the elegant roses carved into the metal blade would be the last thing that Andrik Tyrell would ever see.

[vaell]

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( title. lord of dragonstone ) ( tagged. asiria, saenera, rhaegon, myrrine | mentioned: ) ( location. dragonstone; chamber of the painted table )


indenta shame. the words were so delicately put, as if it really would cause discomfort to the cult of meraxes to bring ruin to dorne as they would to the rest of the noble houses. the stormlands, the riverlands, the reach, the vale, the north..all these realms were going to be stripped away of what they thought was best for them; the tyrells. and so, the thought of adding dorne into the list of potential victims of fire and blood didn't really cause dramon to bat an eye. he was betrothed to a princess of dorne, yes, of course, but what did dorne matter to her now? her true home now would be dragonstone, until they could retake the crownlands. maybe it was because he had felt no connection in essos, no feelings of loss upon their leave to westeros, and so he believed that others shared his own mindset. how could he have felt at home there, anyhow? it wasn't where he was meant to be. or so that's what he and his siblings had been told. so as myrrine reached up to straighten any folds in his shirt, aerador's eyes following her hand closely, the small smile on his lips did not disappear. the only way he could describe him and myrrine's relationship was that of a parental bond, just like the rest of his siblings. if she were falsely garnering the loyalty of the targaryen's, then he didn't seem to have noticed.
indentwith saenera having arrived in the hall next, taenyr perched atop her shoulder as well, dramon offered her a small nod in greeting. closer to the woman than he was to naerys or rhaegon, unsurprisingly, he felt a bit more relaxed upon her presence, because it was becoming awfully clear that this marriage meant more than a lot. not long after saenera's arrival, rhaegon entered the hall, though he paid no such mind to his siblings. dramon was hardly fazed by the act. when did he ever direct his immediate attention upon them and not myrrine? while the two exchanged words, the dragon lord really only caught rhaegon mentioning festering and infecting from the inside, out. if it wasn't for myrrine and her followers, he was sure that he and his siblings wouldn't have taken this route, and instead have already attacked kings landing. as much as that idea delighted him, he knew that the flame of meraxes was taking a methodical, sure approach in their invasion. she was ensuring they get the iron throne whilst knocking down the great houses down one by one. and as she spoke, her words only solidified his thankfulness that they were doing it myrrine's way, though a sort of anger slowly creeped in on him as she spoke of their father. he couldn't imagine the man being anything aside from what he had always been described as. a great prince, boiled down to nearly nothing, thanks to the tyrells. they almost ran house targaryen extinct, thinking they had erased the dragons from furthering on. that was their biggest flaw, thinking they did. they should have known. because now the four of the targaryens stood, minds constantly set upon how they would exact their vengeance. he almost wanted to laugh at the thought of the coronation for the new king. perhaps he would set a record as the shortest lived ruler in all of westeros. so, yes, myrrine was right. the nobles of westeros will soon come to realize their gods have abandoned them.
indentthough as soon as his flare of anger had came, it had left at the sound of approaching steps. slowly, dramon turned around as myrrine rose from the throne, descending the dais immediately. and there she was. asiria martell. with a soft golden dress, clearly meant for warmer weather, the dornish princess stood out from her surroundings to say the least. he was nearly mesmerized by the sight amidst the dreariness of dragonstone, the colors of her dress seemingly accentuated by the lack-of in the great hall. it was as if she were untouched by the cruelties of the world - while he blended in, she demanded ones attention. he found himself curious about how life in dorne was - did the sun beat upon the lands with the residents donning their bright and colorful clothes? she looked just as much the part a princess as he could have ever imagined. aerador, still on his shoulder, almost craned his neck to get a better view of the princess, an unfamiliar figure to the young dragon. marcun, whom escorted the woman into the hall, introduced asiria to the rest of the room, though dramon hardly paid attention. if myrrine hadn't have spoken his name aloud, he may not have noticed she were beckoning him to step forward.
indent"of course, mother." he agreed dutifully, taking a step forward to offer the dornish princess his arm. "princess asiria. i do hope you find dragonstone as riveting as i, with it's architectural genius being one of the castle's greatest boasts." when he took her arm, he made no haste to walk her to the heavy red doors of the great hall, leaving his siblings behind. as the pair exited through the dragon's maw, he gave a small glance toward asiria again. her dark hair was loose, falling past her shoulders. clearing his throat, he looked back down their path, getting straight to the point rather than exchanging niceties with her. "that room was the great hall. we are in the stone drum right now, which serves as the central keep of dragonstone." he explained carefully, as if not entirely sure if she really cared or not. "and although i believe you may be most interested in seeing aegon's garden, as it is a change in scenery, we can first visit the chamber of the painted table." already just beginning to give the woman a tour of dragonstone had brought him back to when he first became acquainted with the castle. he had been in awe of each sight, almost definitely more than asiria seemed to be now.
indentleading her up to the top floor of the stone drum, the two of them entered the chamber of the painted table. the walls were bare and black, save for four tall directional windows. though the sight wasn't so captivating, what stood in the middle of the room was. the painted table was large, a carved and painted form of a detailed map of westeros. more than fifty feet long in length, the table was not something you could miss. as they approached, he ran a hand along the table. "the painted table," he spoke, releasing his arm from her own to walk the length of the table. "if i remember correctly, aegon the conquerer planned for his invasion of westeros here." the words resonated within him. they were following in their ancestors footsteps, taking back what was rightfully theirs. he turned to asiria as he reached the location of dragonstone on the map. there sat a raised seat, allowing the occupant to view the entire map. "its as though history is repeating itself. why the great houses always choose to cast aside house targaryen, and get slaughtered by us in the end, i'll never know. shouldn't they have learnt from their mistakes yet? that is what history is for, is it not?" he looked to her, genuinely curious for her answer. why would anyone try erasing the targaryens if only for their own wants of power and control even if it meant their inevitable death? was a sliver of ruling really all that they wanted?
indentthe young dragon on his shoulder opened his wings to swoop down onto the table, landing right atop the painted kings landing. he looked back up to where dramon stood, and then to asiria, giving a low screech. "i suppose you've never seen one," he spoke, eyes shifting back to asiria. "a dragon, that is." he wondered how fascinating it must be, to be this close to a creature you had only ever heard tales of. his hand rose to stroke his dark scales, as if showing the dornish princess it was alright. "go on," he gave a small nod at aerador, whom was still staring up at asiria with a sort of wariness. dramon's eyes flashed to her face, searching for any signs that she were nervous, perhaps. if she was, he wasn't so sure why. "i can't promise he won't bite, if that's what you're wondering." was all that he could offer to reassure her.

[vaell]

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( title. a prince of dorne ) ( tagged. amaris, naerys, saenera, rhaegon, myrrine | mentioned: asiria ) ( location. dragonstone )


indenthe clenched his jaw. she was right, if asiria were to become uncooperative, things wouldn't look so good for them. however, she was still ahead of them on the pathway, and that was enough for markas. "maybe seeing such horrors will benefit her, amaris. think about it, she'd be too scared to defy the dragons. end up like a body on the way to dragonstone." his voice remained hushed, in an attempt to be only loud enough for his sister to have heard. the guards escorting them - as horribly ill-mannered as he believed they were - could always be listening in. so while he had many complaints, he resisted from listing them. "oh, yes. i'm sure," he muttered. they only mean well; isn't that what you always say about people? they always mean well. who cares if they mean well when their actions suggest otherwise? but still, his somewhat sarcastic agreement was still an agreement. "i'm sure their marriage will bring prosperity to both house targaryen and martell. and for that, i am thankful."
indentwhether they were both evading the suspecting ears of the guards or not, the words that he spoke were never to slander house targaryen. in fact, he amplified his last statement to ensure that he was heard by the guards. but asiria was his sister, he was allowed to criticize her, was he not? either way, they had finally begun to near the top of the staircase, so their conversing would soon come to a halt. "of course, of course. i think she will find dragonstone to be more suiting for her, in all honesty." if anything he found it most certainly amusing that asiria be stuck in such a drab place. she would find it hard to adjust, and who knows how long that it would take until she did? he didn't really care where she ended up, as long as she wasn't stalking around sunspear anymore. now that was something he looked forward to on their return.
indentdragonstone quite literally lived up to its name, made up of stone shaped to look like dragons. he knew of the castles dark history, though seeing it was a whole other beast. it contrasted sunspear in so many ways that he couldn't even begin to list them. where the first thing a visitor would see when arriving to sunspear would be the tall, slender spear tower or the great, domed tower of the sun, at dragonstone, the first thing that captures your attention, aside from the grimness of it all, were the gargoyles staring down upon them. the sight didn't elicit fear from him, but rather a sense of alertness, for he now could imagine the dragon lords and ladies in this very keep.
indentcoming to a pause outside the entrance to the hall, red doors set in a mouth, markas cast a glance behind him at the guards escorting them. impatiently, he watched the exchange between amaris and the guards. her attempt at inquiring was hardly met with a response, just something about being granted entry when the princes and princesses allowed for it. what a joke. asiria was already off somewhere - maybe like amaris had mentioned, having a private audience with the targaryens first - while they had to wait outside. as her kin, he felt it didn't make sense for her to be received without the two of them with her. he needed to make sure asiria wasn't going to do anything idiotic, anyhow. so, he fully turned toward the guards just as amaris had. he held his tongue, though was nearly glaring at them. yelling at them would do no good.
indentand so, they both waited for what felt like an eternity. he could hardly stand facing the guards for any longer, or every now and then grumbling to amaris, so his lips parted, about to question what was taking so long. behind him, the sound of the door opening had left him without a word coming from his mouth. he cast a glance to amaris, an eagerness flashing in his eyes. they were finally to meet the targaryens in the flesh. he turned, already stepping into the hall. as the pair began inside, he was quick to notice the dozens of guards lining the walls of the chamber. they donned bulky armor and what seemed to be horns jutting from their helms. the weapons in their hands were double-ended spears. they could execute both the unarmed martell siblings within seconds if they wanted to. he tore his gaze from the guards as their own escorts departed from behind them and joined their ranks with the others, and looked forward to see the throne. a dark-haired woman was near it, though nobody sat upon it. there was only a long, silver snake slowly winding its way up the throne. neither of the three figures - likely the targaryens - made a move to sit there. he wondered why the eldest was not upon it. however, there were other people also floating about the throne, whether lurking in the shadows or on the dais on which it sat. how..odd.
indentthere was no sign of asiria. nor was there of the fourth targaryen, most likely her betrothed, dramon. he shoved that thought from his mind for now, seeing as they would need to make an impression on those in the hall. behind them, the man who he had seen sweeping asiria away stepped forward to herald in the dornish prince and princess. "prince markas, princess amaris. i introduce to you lady naerys, lady saenera and lord rhaegon of house targaryen; the rightful rulers of the seven kingdoms." marcun spoke just as venomously about the seven kingdoms - rather than six - as he had earlier with his introduction of asiria. "your sister is being shown the castle by lord dramon as we speak. i also introduce lady myrrine, their mother." that had answered markas' question about asiria, he supposed. though lady myrrine had been named their mother, he wasn't so entirely sure how much power she held here, so he turned to the unfamiliar woman first and gave her a bow, and then to the dragon ladies and lord, which he then gave an even deeper bow. "my ladies, my lord. with the marriage of lord dramon and my sister, princess asiria, i envision house martell and house targaryen being a strong force joined together. westeros will be ushered into a new era under your rightful ruling as monarchs." he offered them a smile. it was forced for the most part, though the way it graced his features made it seem genuine. "on behalf of house martell, i offer you our loyalties for the wars to come, and pledge you our support in taking back the iron throne." and so, markas martell had officially bent the knee to the dragons.

[undertheweather]

❂ tytos lannister — 27 — knight of the six kingdoms — tagged; priscilla, laurane

the ceremony was long, and tytos was easily bored. in all honestly, he wasn't really listening to the words of the high septon. the droning of religious figures had never really been able to hold the lion's attention. his thoughts were mostly with the impending feast, as the festivities had always been tytos's forte. even if today would be more tame, due to both the recent death of the previous king and his recent betrothal. a lot of things were going to change for the lannister knight now that he was to marry the lady of the vale. firstly, he would no longer be living the exciting life of ser tytos, the lion knight. he would be settling down in the eyrie. he would not be going on adventures or fighting in wild battles for the crown. instead he would make it his duty to protect his new family, the arryns. and finally, he would be turning from spending much of his time drinking and wooing men and women in pubs, to winning over his bride to be.

tytos looked across the room, scanning for golden hair that didn't belong to a lannister, until he spotted the woman at the forefront of his mind. the falcon of the vale was dressed modestly in comparison to many of the other ladies, and lords, in attendance, her high-collared blue and white dress leaving much to the imagination. but she was far from invisible, billowing sleeves and winged broach drawing attention in all the right ways. he hadn't met many people like the lady laurane. she seemed nearly perfect, not a single hair on her head was ever out of place. she was poised and commanding and thoughtful; everything tytos was not. truthfully, he was a bit intimidated by her, which was rare for the golden knight, but he wouldn't be admitting that any time soon. no need to embarrass himself.

"long may he reign! the lannister sputtered out, half a beat behind the rest of the crowd because his head had been in the clouds. he figured he had likely earned himself an eye roll from his sister, but he didn't turn to look. instead, he glanced around the room as people started moving. he noticed laurane make a beeline for the new king, dragging her siblings with her, and he smiled a little. it seemed as though she must be very eager to give him her congrats. before he could think much more, priscilla started to force her way forward through the crowd and he himself was a sibling struggling to keep up with his sister.

after the arryns, it seemed it was the lanister's turn to present themselves to the king. tytos bowed and listened to what his sister was saying. "house lannister is at your disposal," the lioness purred, and it was only then that tytos recognized the possibility of an alterier motive for speaking to the king. he wasn't the best at reading people; he knew that, but he had learned over the years to be able to recognize that glint in his sister's eyes whenever she had a plan. it was the same as their fathers. "and of course, you have my sword if you should ever need it on or off the battlefield," the knight said, giving another brief bow before following priscilla back into the crowd.

"shall i drop you off to your betrothed?" his sister spoke, her heir nearly hitting him as she whipped around to face him. despite whatever attitude his sister was attempting to give him, a smile spread across tytos's face. "i saw her headed that way," he responded, grinning down at the other lannister. she may intimate others, but she would always be silly little cilla to him. "you coming?" he said, turning towards where he had seen the lady arryn go moments before.

when he spotted her, she had a stoic look on her face and seemed to be looking out at the crowd. someone more intuitive might have clocked her gaze as tense, maybe even defensive, but not tytos. he strutted up to laurane, confident and pompous as ever, offering a low bow when he stood before her. "my lady," he said before rising again to look his betrothed in the eye, "its wonderful to see you again. he was actually excited to see her, but he didn't want to come on too strong, afraid he might scare her off. tytos very much wanted the lady of the vale to like him. after all, she would soon be his wife. he suddenly realized that he wasn't sure what else to say. "beautiful ceremony, dont you think?"