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@hellbcunds
a dependent multi - muse blog, written for dragonsrot as penned by 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐲 . do not interact if you're not in the rpg.
catelyn baratheon ; app . intro. interactions. lysara stark nee arryn ; app . intro. interactions. rickard redwyne ; app . intro. interactions. tharion lannister ; app . intro. interactions.
𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃: kallias stark ( @prophxtics )
she becomes aware of two things all at once. the first is the way a rock seems to have decided to roll around inside her skull and bash against her brain, sending sparks of pain through her. the second is his presence, as familiar to her as her own self after spending so many years at his side that she'd know it even without opening her eyes. lysara groans quietly, opening a bleary eye as the events of the masquerade come back in flashes ; more trouble at the wall, her sister's hollow stare, plenty of cups of wine. " the next time i decide to drink that much, have me drawn and quartered out the back courtyard. " it comes out drily as her eyes finally open fully, taking in the sight of him as she rolls onto her side to look at him proper.
── .✦ “I could never ask for that. It seems to me you have already committed one offense against His Grace's wishes this evening.” Her eyes drifted deliberately over his attire, lingering for a moment on the thoroughly recognizable combination of armor and golden locks. “You see, Ser Redwyne, I was under the impression that one was meant to disguise oneself. Putting on a mask and declaring the task complete rather gives the impression that you were… creatively unmotivated.” A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Or perhaps simply lazy. Neither strikes me as a particularly honorable trait for a knight.”
She arched a brow at his remark, genuine surprise flickering across her features. She had been rather pleased with her disguise. “And how could you possibly know that?” she asked. “Is my presence truly so distinctive? I had rather hoped the mask would do more than merely complement my gown.”
he can't help the bark of laughter that leaves his mouth at her statement, amusement radiating from every inch of him as he smile down at her. what he wouldn't give to be able to go all out for this ball as he'd like to, to dress in a shirt that barely covered anything with chains of jewels against his chest. to wear a mask that actually kept up with the mystery of the occasion. " alas, the kingsguard does not have the same freedoms as our king's loyal subjects. i was not allowed to dress for the occasion. " he leans forward slightly. " though i did have something far better chosen in the hopes that perhaps we'd be allowed. " ricky offers a wink her way before he straightens again. he's pleased at the expression that crosses her delicate features, amusement lingering in his own smile. " i've heard you scream my name plenty. i know your voice. " and how he loved i when he was jousting and could hear her, cheering him on from the stands " you'd have to do more than don a mask for me not to know you, my lady. "
𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃: allyria sand ( @aftcrfury )
he's not seen her for years now. when he was younger, he had loved using one of his father's ships to sail back and forth between the arbor and sunspear if only so that he could visit her, he'd pegged it as visiting in order to help relations between his house and the martells, though the only one who he ever really spent his time with was allyria. rickard had known it was doomed from the start, actually knew with certainty that there was no world in which his father was going to allow him to marry a sand. it's why he's not bitter at knowing she would rather have nothing to do with him, knew that it was only a kindness to let her go when he did instead of dragging things out. still, when he catches her towards the outskirts of the masquerade where he was stationed, he doesn't ignore her. " allyria. " even masked, he would still know her. " you're looking stunning this evening. "
The sound of his voice was enough to confirm what she had already suspected and despite herself the corners of her mouth lifted, the expression small but undeniably warmer than it had been only moments before. "lord lannister," there was something strangely reassuring in finding him there. perhaps because over the past days his company had become unexpectedly easy, or perhaps because after everything that had transpired it was simply comforting to stand beside someone who looked at her as though she were olynna before she was an arryn. whatever the reason had been some of the weight she had carried onto the balcony seemed to lessen merely by his presence. she found herself watching as he emerged fully from the shadows, her gaze lingering for a heartbeat longer than propriety allowed. when he came to stand opposite her she did not noticed that she had shifted ever so slightly in his direction as if closing a distance she could not have later explained. it was little more than instinct, as natural as turning toward the warmth of a fire on a cold evening, and just as unconscious.
his first remark earned a quiet laugh, the sound softer than she intended, "then i suppose i have interrupted your enjoyment of it." she watched him step fully into the light, the lion worked into his mask doing remarkably little to disguise the man beneath it. it suited him, she thought, altogether too well. the thought had scarcely settled before his next words caught her entirely off guard and for the briefest moment she simply looked at him as a faint warmth rose uninvited to her cheeks. she lowered her gaze almost instinctively, an altogether futile attempt at collecting herself before looking back up again. "i think," she began carefully, amusement returning in quieter form, "you may be giving the dress considerably more credit than it deserves." the smile lingering upon her lips betrayed her efforts at composure, "though i suspect my lord has acquired a reputation for generosity where compliments are concerned." her head tilted ever so slightly, grey eyes meeting his once more, "or is that a privilege reserved only for ladies who have abandoned perfectly respectable celebrations in favor of lonely balconies?"
he can't help the smile that twitches at his mouth at her recognition, breaking free despite his attempts to keep it tampered down. it was strange, the way this woman could draw things out of him that few others ever have, could bring about a curiosity that he couldn't ignore when it came to her. " lady arryn. " he reaches for her hand then, raising it to his lips to press a kiss to the back of it, mouth lingering longer than would be deemed appropriate. just like the other day, he's loathe to pull away from her, keeping her hand in his own instead as his brushes his thumb lightly over her knuckles. she'd been a constant figure in his mind's eye since her family was banished from the courtyard, since he'd found her afterwards and softened his words just for her. he notices the way her body seems to shift towards him, like a flower seeking the sunshine, and it does little to drive away the smile from his features.
he chuckles quietly, mouth pulling wider as he keeps his gaze fixed on her own light grey. " i wouldn't describe now being in your presence an interruption, my lady. some might even consider it a blessing. " his tone is measured, more casual than he means it as he considers, not for the first time, the effect she has on him. it was so rare for him to be emotionally affected by someone, so rare for his thoughts to be cast from the plans he was setting into motion. yet the arryn lady had done just that, setting his thoughts into disarray. tharion hums in consideration, allowing dark eyes to slowly roam downwards from her face, over the dress that suits her so perfectly and compliments every inch before flicking upwards again. " you're right. it is the woman wearing it that deserves each and every one of those compliments. " his thumb strokes over her hand again, raising it to his mouth yet again to press a kiss to her pulse point, holding it there as he keeps his gaze on her face. " that is a privilege reserved only for you. " he murmurs it quietly, unable to help himself. " you look so beautiful, olynna. "
myriame hated stables, the dirt, the smell, everything. she didn’t particularly like horses either. something in their eyes made them untrustworthy, nor was she a good rider. nevertheless she was here to check on her brothers prized horse. an unfortunate wager lost to him had seen to that.
with a grimace on her face, she walked through the door where she spotted lady lysara. before she could utter so much as a greeting, lysara had already taken it upon herself to offer some remark. myriame scrunched her nose in open distate, "i have a number of places i would rather be," she said coolly, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from her sleeve, "and a number of places where i am wanted." her eyes narrowed as they traveled deliberately from lysara's face to her shoes and back again. a slow inspection, judgemental in nature, "evidently, i cannot say the same for you."
the horse beside them suddenly tossed its head, the movement sharp enough to draw a startled flinch from myriame. she stepped back instinctively before she could stop herself, her heart giving an irritating leap in her chest. she allowed a brief silence to settle between them as she considered her next words. "You must be quite glad to be married to a stark. particularly when one's own family finds itself the subject of such unfortunate discussions." her head tilted slightly, a small smile on her lips. her tone was honey sweet, you could almost mistake it as sympathetic but there was an unmistakable edge to it.
"but how fortunate that now when people look upon you, they see a stark first." her eyes glittered mischievously "and only remember the arryn after." perhaps it was foolish to provoke her. but lysara's cold remark moments before had left myriame feeling defensive, and when myriame felt defensive she often became remarkably unkind. an unfortunate trait.
there were certainly times where she enjoyed myriame's fiery spirit. when she'd been young and running around with avan, she had not bothered to supress her snickers when she found her amusing. in truth, it was a little like looking in a mirror and seeing her own past self. it was little wonder that now that she was older and would eventually take lysara's place in winterfell, they would butt heads in friction. still, lysara was not usually so brazenly hostile towards her without reason. but she'd come here to be alone, well aware that her tongue was a dangerous thing whenever was as angry as she is now.
" how about you go find such a place. it certainly isn't here. " her own tone is clipped, brutal even if she doesn't want it to be. holding her tongue is not something she's ever been well versed in, something that she can't restrain when she's in a state like this. to be prohibited from seeing her own sister was one thing, but to be publicly sent away from the courtyard, her family name used against her in such disdain and distrust? it was only making things all the worse, the emotions swirling within her an ugly thing. the jerk of myriame's body away from the horse does distract her momentarily, her mouth curving upwards just slightly in amusement at the action.
then she opens her mouth again and lysara's amusement fades, huffing quietly in annoyance as she shakes her head. it only grows the longer she speaks, her irritation making her blood boil. " it doesn't matter how long i have been a stark, people will never forget that i was an arryn first. " she glances up again, blue eyes narrowing on the young people. " i wonder if when you get married, people will forget that it took so many years for my nephew to finally choose you for himself rather than letting it be the wishes of his father. if he marries you. "
"Some women find motherhood mellowing, you know." Gods know that Alayne is not speaking from experience, but she has heard it said. If anything, she thinks it only hardened her further: gave her something to fight for. Gave her three somebody's to put before herself, in fact. (Some days she suspects they place even before her lord-husband, her people, and the realm at large. There is a guilt that goes hand-in-hand with that suspicion, deep-rooted and winding in nature. It doesn't do to linger long on it.) "A crime that you regularly committed in your youth, I might add." Ever the hard-done-by eldest sister is she, with the memory of an elephant and the true pride of an Arryn, but never would she dare hold any of it against her little sisters; least of all the littlest of them. Yet no matter how low she speaks, Alayne straightens impossibly so, spine rigid and face stricken. "Do you wish for all our heads on spikes, Lysara?" Her reply may be sharp, barbed and biting, but there is near enough no venom in it; she's too tired, truth be told, even if horror does take root in her stomach at the suggestion.
" none that i know. perhaps the ones that hand their babes to their septas whenever they cry. " that certainly had never been her experience, wanting every wail to be soothed by herself or her husband, loathing every time she had duties to attend to and had to leave them with the septa. she is a softer woman for her children, smiling and sweet. mellow? no, she certainly wouldn't say that. " but i grew out of it, so it doesn't matter anymore. leave the past where it belongs, birdie. " she smiles sweetly, patting her eldest sister's hand. she would not deny that she had always been her favourite though. how could she not put her above all others in terms of favour, a god on a pedestal to lead the way. lysara scoffs at the reaction she gets, unable to help the roll of her eyes as she leads them on. " gods above, it's as though you don't know me at all. we're not going ahead with it if we can't get away with it. i just want to check who's on the guard, if there are any other possible entrances like a window. if that lannister boy is on, perhaps there's a chance he'll let us in. he likes to flirt with me. "
࿔ “ yes. ” it is the only thing that sprouts from her wide mouth, prickly like thistle, wilting only a moment later. to say anything else would wound her deeply. she doesn't expect catelyn, no matter how beloved, to understand. least of all does she want pity, but if that is the well that she must drink from to pass the night, then so be it. “ cat... my dearest, you are too quick to see the good in others. sometimes i fear your heart is too large, and your arms forever open... ” awaiting a dagger she will never see coming. it tortures her at night. not a vision nor a premonition. merely images, sprung from love and invaded by fear. of someone taking catelyn from her. like all dragons, rhaella is a hoarder. she collects beautiful things, jewels, and people, who, on occasion, are capable of capturing even her heart. she turns then, pushing aside the brush, cupping her lady's hand. “ remember, you'll always be safe here, with me. but anyone who is not us is a potential enemy, waiting for the right moment to strike. tell me you understand this. ”
she can hear the tone, knows it as well as she knows herself and she lets the subject drop with ease. one thing she'd learned from years by her side is that rhaella would only open up when she deemed it time, would seek her out when she actually wanted to talk. and catelyn was patient, always so patient and waiting with loving arms to cushion her when she fell. a brow raises in gentle tease, question in her gaze. " what prompted such an observation? " slight hurt creases her brow, for all she'd done was comment on how nice it was to see her mother out and about, hopeful to see more of her. though when rhaella turns, the warmth of her hand on her own has her brow smoothing. she shakes her head, free hand rising to cover rhaella's in both her own. " i know, ella, i do. i know i see a lot of the good in people, but that doesn't mean i tell them anything. " she squeezes the princess' hand gently, concern morphing her mouth. " how worried do i need to be? "
closed starter for lord tharion lannister; a valcony of the great hall — @hellbcunds
The masquerade should have felt beautiful, and perhaps to many it did with the music spilling from the ballroom in soft waves. candlelight poured gold across crimson silks and polished marble, turning the red keep into something almost unreal. below, king's landing glittered beneath the night sky, and yet olynna felt none of it. the cool night air did little to ease the heaviness settled deep within her chest. one hand rested lightly against the stone while the other moved to the edge of her mask. it had been a mistake to come to the capital, the thought had circled her mind for days now, growing sharper each time she looked toward the royal dais. they should leave, all of them. the arryns had endured enough humiliation beneath this roof to understand what should have been obvious from the start. they were not welcome here, not truly. she found herself longing for home with an almost painful intensity, she exhaled slowly, gaze fixed somewhere beyond the city lights.
behind her, the music continued, the realm celebrated while something rotten festered beneath its feet. after a moment, she became aware of it, not a sound exactly, more the unmistakable sensation of no longer being alone. still, she did not turn immediately. instead, a faint smile touched her lips, small and almost tired. "if you intend to remain mysterious in the shadows," she said softly into the night, "i should warn you it is only somewhat effective." only then did she turn. the mask obscured much, but not enough to hide the quiet knowing in her expression. her gaze lingered upon the figure before her, suspicion already settled into something dangerously close to certainty.
surprisingly to most, tharion enjoyed a ball just as much as he enjoyed a tourney. it was more common to find his features twisted in concentration, weapon in his hand as he faced down an opponent. common to find him splashed in blood with no remorse for the poor soul he'd come across. it's a sharp contrast to now, dressed in red finery with a lion's mask that covered his face just enough to cause doubt, but not enough to conceal him from someone who knew him well. just as hers did not do much to hide the familiar cadence of her walk, the way her hair falls in softly curled tendons down her back. he's not certain though, not yet, and it gives him cause to follow her to the balcony, to observe for a mere moment before he steps out of the shadows and into the light.
" some people enjoy a little mystery. " his voice holds a tease on the edge, corners of his mouth turning upwards as he continues to move forward until he's standing just opposite her, gaze finding her own beneath her mask as that certainty settles in. he could hardly forget such a colour when he'd stared into them mere days ago, a comforting hand covering her own in the wake of her family's dismissal. he can count on one hand the amount of people he truly showed care for, and yet, she'd managed to sneak past those defences and worm her way in. he hated it, hated that feeling, and yet he seeks her out yet again. " is that not why you came out here in the first place, my lady? to deprive us all of he sight of you? " his hand closes on the railing, chin dipped just slightly to look down at her. " though i can't complain about being the only one who gets to take in the sight of you in this dress right now. "
sebastyn baratheon ⚔ catelyn baratheon ( @hellbcunds ! )
the baratheon tent upon the tourney grounds
" Damned Dornishman , " Sebastyn cursed with a wheezing chuckle as he collapsed into the cushions of a chair just inside the tent. He dropped his antlered helm to the ground, already looking around for a flagon of wine to nurse his defeat. Luckily, he had escaped his defeat with few injuries; a long but shallow gash on his arm and a welt on his neck from that nasty whip the Uller knight had borne, and likely some bruising on his back from his tumble from his horse.
The flap of the tent being thrown open caught his attention, a sigh of relief leaving his lips when it was the sweetest of his siblings to enter first. " Cat , " he sank further into the chair despite the way the wood twinged his sore back. " I didn't embarrass the family name too thoroughly, did I ? " he asked. The words sounded like a jest, but he didn't think he could take any more disappointed glares from those closest to him.
she's never been much of a fan of tourneys. the jousting she could deal with, but the hand to hand combat had always been a little brutal for her taste. it's why she'd taken a book with her while waiting to watch her brother, only to wish she'd kept her nose firmly in it upon watching him lose. concern had taken hold when she'd seen him walking away, the sound of the whip still fresh in her ears even as she enters the tent after him and breathes a gentle sigh. " hardly, that uller knight was practically a mountain. no one can blame you for not besting him. " her brow is furrowed as she approaches him, eyes scanning over him. " are you alright? that looked as though it hurt. i can fetch a cloth and water if you need cleaning up. "
it was a curious thing, what people picked up on. viserra had thought that over the months, the melancholy over what was happening in court had been hidden well. still smiling, still offering for those to break their fast and visit the markets with her, but she supposes that there was little way to disguise the difference between a flower with its petals closed versus one now in full bloom. “ what is there not to be happy about ? it was such a lovely performance and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. i cannot wait for the next to begin ! ” only wishes for her cousins to be able to join them, but viserra had learned in the months to be content with what was, rather than what could be. “ will you sit with me for it ? unless, of course, it would trouble rhaella. ”
she keeps her mouth firmly closed when it comes to the subject of happiness. loyal as she was to the targaryens, it was hard not to notice how different things were from only a few years ago. between the mind frame of the king and the death of the dragons, the shifting of the council and the current dismissal of house arryn, it was hard to say that they were in happy times. " i heard the next play is going to be a comedy, so hopefully we'll be seeing plenty of smiles in the crowd. " the request has a light flush coating her cheeks, breath catching in her chest for a second before she manages to get a grip on herself. " i'd love to. i'm sure rhaella won't mind ... and if she does, i'm certain she will make it known. " she laughs quietly, fondness for her friend an ever bright thing. " shall we go find some good seats before they're all taken? i'd hate for you to miss out, my princess. "
"You always have been combative." What might be a scathing rebuke of anybody else, coming from Alayne, sounds only like affection now. Perhaps it is hypocritical of her, to allow her sister grace where she would not anyone else, but it is her right, for she watched Lysara grow up, as opposed to growing up with her. Not as a mother, for whom she had to discipline and prepare, but as a guardian, a role model, a sister, a friend. Who else in the world is there for Alayne to indulge if not her? "Gods forbid I be labelled rude." Brows arch dramatically, dark chuckle escaping her at the mere suggestion. (She has been called far worse during council meetings, in truth.) Little attention is paid to the wandering gazes and whispers exchanged as they progress toward the doors, aware as she is of the infamy still afforded to her dismissal, all those moons ago. "And I you. It is the only benefit of this celebration, if you ask me: that we are reunited once again." Even if their sister remains imprisoned, goes the bitter addendum. So close, yet so far.
" and i always will be. if time and children didn't dull that, nothing will. " though her edges were certainly blunter for her children, entirely soft but stern. they were equally softer for her nieces and nephews, her heart only growing to hold them al within it. the softness for her sister, however? that had always been there, always would be. she couldn't erase years of looking up and seeing the example presented before her, the greatness that alayne herself exuded. " being rude to your favourite sister should actually be a crime. " she's straight backed as they leave, uncaring of whatever whispers follow them, though it does have that endless anger bubbling within her, simmering on her behalf. it settles only at the niceties, her smile a bright thing. " i have to agree considering there's been little other benefit. the only thing that would make it better is if all of us were together. " she drops her voice then as they start to make their way through the castle. " hence why we're going to go see if we can sneak in. "
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
EMERALD ORBS REMAIN LOCKED on the intricate fabric of her gown, head tilting ever so slightly as though that would aid her assessment. it truly was beautiful. a smile further tugs at heart shaped lips, hues flickering towards the features of her aunt for a singular beat before settling back on her dress. ❝ i figured as much. ❞ raya lets out, voice soft and silky. ❝ it pleases my husband to see me in his colors... i suppose that alone is a stronger argument than your - distaste for red, aunt. ❞ bright hues flicker away from the dress, finding the curled up ball of brown upon the bay of her chamber's window. a soft laugh slips past her lips, head shaking slightly. ever the blunt one, her auntie lysara. ❝ well... if they do not have a gown that is entirely to their liking then perhaps we could have them made. ❞
" blame your good father for that. " she can't help the roll of her eyes, her distaste, hardly a secret when it came to her family. such a vast contrast to even five years ago when she'd thought alys and maelor were perfect, a couple so in love no one could deny they were gods made for each other. " i love red when it's a wine. " she quips in return, eyes alight in amusement. " well, i hope he returns the favour and wears your colours in return. it would send a good message of unity, and it would be rather sweet of the pair of you. " she glances over her shoulder with a smile, though she doesn't expect to find her nieces gaze when she looks. she's long since stopped questioning that avoidance. " don't worry, i've sewn some fur trim to their gowns, they'll be plenty pleased. "
just a few years ago, she would have found herself charmed. calanthe would have allowed the affection to linger, would have encouraged it and made the suggestion of taking time to themselves following the competition. now, her smile was blithe in nature, hand returning to settle in her lap, one over the other. “ indeed. especially with how many have answered the king's call, ” muses in return, though they both knew it had little to do with it. “ has she ? was it a difficult pregnancy ? or perhaps your travels ? ” little was known of his wife, what news calanthe heard of mirelle lannister came in the form of snippets of conversation, a small convey sent to the rock in celebration when tyrek had been announced to the realm but nothing more. a woman's intuition gave suspicion that strange was not the word tharion searched for, but men often could not name what was clear in their face. “ jessamyn is doing well, having just reached her ten and sixth birthday. she is with her brother in the stables at this moment. “ the answer was smooth, hands lifting to start to place pieces on the board. " my beloved husband does spend his time here as needed with his position on the council, however, king's landing is not so far from home. distance is not taxing when there are other means of communication. "
it's strange how things can change so completely. he'd been the architect for his own demise when it came to the difference in them now, placing the first bricks when he had finally married and chosen to focus on creating a family of his own. then distance had pulled and pulled, the wall stacking higher until it stopped them completely. " it's almost as though we all received the same summons. " he remarks dryly, wry smile on his face, the truth of the matter an open secret that didn't need saying. he nods his head thoughtfully, gaze far away from her. " the birth was difficult. i hardly think it was me, i don't travel far when she's in the later months and she's not said anything about it. " he shrugs, unwilling to admit even to her that he was at quite a loss of what to do in such a situation. " and how is garmon? " his question is more loaded, more curious as he always would be for his boy. he still hated that damn name though, far too reachman for his liking even if it had been a necessity. tharion scoffs quietly at that, quiet annoyance rising within him as it tends to if he ever lets himself think about her marriage. " letters don't keep you warm at night, calanthe. sounds like a terrible compromise to me. "
setting; training yard @hellbcunds
lancel brought down another blow. the mace crashed into the training dummy with a splintering thud, sending straw bursting from its seams. he drew a ragged breath through his teeth and swung again, shoulders rolling. he pressed after it relentlessly, enjoying the pursuit as much as the blow itself. there was satisfaction in driving something before him, in forcing it back inch by inch until it could no longer stand. at last the post cracked. the dummy toppled into the dirt in a rain of straw and splinters. only then did lancel lower the mace, his chest heaved as sweat trickled down his brow and along the sharp line of his jaw.
the weight of the mace hung comfortably in his hand, familiar as an old friend. he planted its head upon the ground and stopped for a moment's rest. training reminded him how to win. it was an easy lesson to forget amidst ledgers and accounts.
as the master of coin, he often found himself longing for enemies he could simply strike down. no expense spared, maelor had said. those three words had cost lancel more sleep than any tourney. as his breathing steadied, his thoughts returned unwillingly to columns of figures and dwindling reserves. wine from the arbor. musicians from dorne. dancers from lys. every smiling lord and lady expected extravagance, and extravagance demanded coin, coin that had to come from somewhere. lancel grimaced and then he laughed. a bitter sound escaped him as he imagined the treasury's condition once the festivities were done. somehow he would make it work. he always did. it was then he noticed the figure standing nearby, a flash of crimson and gold caught the corner of his eye. tharion lannister no doubt. lancel turned toward him, resting both hands atop the pommel of his mace.
"tharion." the name left his lips easily enough, void of warmth.
"you should have announced yourself. another moment and i might have mistaken you for something worth hitting." his gaze drifted between tharion and the shattered dummy "though the resemblance is striking."
for several long moments, tharion simply stands off to the side of the training grounds, watching. the sight of the master of coin's face is one he's hauntingly familiar with, made worse by the fact that there were two of those fuckers. he's seen it through all phases of life. from boyhood when they'd both been far younger, learning all that it meant to be a lord in this world. from teenage years when the world started to open to them, and his face became expected at the other end of a jousting field. through narrowed glares across a ballroom at every wedding in the west when he heard whispered of their growing wealth and ambition. through red hot anger when he'd killed his father, had effectively opened up the slot on the council only for lancel to swoop in and get it handed to him. his face is almost as familiar to him as his own, and yet the quiet rage at the sight of him never fades.
tharion can't help the smirk when he's finally acknowledged, arms folded as he perceives him. " lancel. " he greets in return, simple and just as devoid of warmth as his own. he couldn't stomach it for the man, even when he was being terribly polite. " how unfortunate, i would have enjoyed doling out your punishment for striking your ruling lord unprovoked. " perhaps he could even get away with taking his hand for such an action. he'd enjoy watching him try to count coin with only one hand. he strides forward easily, gaze settling on the pommel of the mace for a moment before flicking back up to his face. " the festivities are magnificent, lan. do let me know if you require a loan to afford it all, though. a lannister is always happy to help the realm. "
Closed Starter for @hellbcunds
── .✦ Alysanne had expected to find Ser Redwyne somewhere near the training yard, covered in dust and sweat, with swordsmanship occupying his every thought. Instead, finding him anywhere else entirely had caught her off guard.
“I must confess, I am beginning to question my decision-making.” She looked him over with a mixture of amusement and feigned concern. “Are you not supposed to be practicing? I should hope that if a fight breaks out, a knight intends to do more than simply arrive with a sword and a hopeful expression.”
Her expression softened into a small smile as she tilted her head slightly. “If not for the honor of the king, then perhaps for the sake of all those who have foolishly placed their coin upon you.”
he took his post very seriously despite his usual demeanour. it's why he's stood so solemnly on the edge of the ballroom, hand on the hilt of his sword as he surveys the masquerade. his own mask does very little to hide his identity, the fact that he was still in his usual regalia even less so. the woman before him he can't quite say the same about, only alerted to her identity when he recognizes the voice he hears cheering his name at tourneys. " should i abandon my post, my lady? i doubt my king would be very pleased with that, nor would it particularly honourable. a knight's best trait, in my humble opinion. but rest assured, if a fight broke out here and now, it is not hope that would sway my victory. " he places his hand over his heart, grin on his features and teasing clearly showing in his tone. " you shouldn't call yourself a fool, my lady. i know you've spent plenty of your coin on me. won plenty of it back too, if i remember correctly. "
"i can't say i'm surprised," errick drawled, the corner of his mouth tugging into a knowing grin as his attention drifted from princess rhaella back to the sea of spectators below. "though i will admit i'm impressed. convincing the lord commander to put you on this watch, of all watches, is no small feat."
he glanced sidelong at his fellow knight, amusement glinting in his eyes.
"come now, don't keep the rest of us in the dark. how'd you manage it? blackmail? bribery? or have you finally learned to look innocent?"
he can't help the roll of his eyes as he watches his friend's gaze move at last away from their princess, his own knowing smile settling upon his mouth. a scoff follows shortly afterward, boyish amusement taking precedence instead. " who said i had to convince anyone? perhaps it is simply known that my presence would be best on this watch. " and if his gaze flicked between his king and the dancers a fair few time, could he really be blamed? he was only a man. gaze flicks back to his friend then, head inclined. " ah, you should know by now that i am the lord commander's favourite. i wouldn't know what it feels like not to be highly favoured, but perhaps one day it will not sting as much. "
