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@kingmakcr
I know what it is to toil for what others are freely given.
indie ser criston cole from hbo's HOUSE OF THE DRAGON & george rr martin's FIRE & BLOOD. show based with book-based ideas thrown in. mutuals only. will only interact with A SONG OF ICE & FIRE muses. -- revered by dc (27, bisexual, she/her, latinx) (lord corlys velaryon rp blog)
OOC. Doing my best to come back to this & @driftmarksnake soon. It's just that everything's been tremendously busy on my end & my energy for writing hasn't been The Best.
OOC. not dead, just very busy in this holiday week
follow me at my personal for some original writing content (it's fantasy-romance)
⚔️ || @lumoire has requested a starter
QUIZICALLY, THE KNIGHT LOOKS UPON THE PRINCE. "There isn't more I can teach you, my prince," He says sincerely, polishing his sword as his own recreational activity. "You've become one of the most skilled swordsmen in all of the kingdoms."
never enter my chambers without invitation!
QUICKLY CASTING HIS GAZE DOWN, Criston grips the hilt of his sword and stands firmly. "My apologies, my prince," He says, voice maintaining itself clear and neutral. "Your lady mother, the queen, has requested your presence with utmost urgency." The queen had not informed him exactly of what it was to be discussed, but the worry in her eyes was enough to put the fear of the Seven into anyone. "Please get dressed and I'll escort you to the small council meeting post haste."
❝ my heart knows only revenge. ❞
the northman (2022) starters ⚔️ accepting
CRISTON OFERS A HAND ON HIS SHOULDER. "Your grace," He says carefully, gripping him to make sure Aemond looks at him. "You are regal, you are your mother's heart. You must not let yours be consumed by revenge." He opens the leather pouch and shakes out what he had brought for him. "I had it custom made by one of the finest Dornish tailors I could find within the city," He says, somewhat bashfully as he gifts the young prince an intricately made eyepatch, beautiful as it was secure. "Let me carry that revenge for you, my prince."
⚔️ || @fyredreamt has requested a starter
"TIS TO BE DARK soon, princess." He states, softly approaching Halaena underneath the Weirwood tree. He does not wish to spook the girl, for she was a gentle creature. "Allow me to escort you back to your chambers."
His voice (familiar; the one who answered to mother with protection, the one who taught the boys how to fight) draws her gaze towards the knight. The sky is indeed losing its light, but that is part of the purpose: the prey she seeks will not appear until the mantle of twilight is above them. "Thank you, ser Criston — but I cannot go yet."
"It's almost dark enough the fireflies will start to appear. I'm waiting — I mean to catch one for my collection, and they will not appear if it's not dusk."
SUCH A WHIMSICAL GIRL. Criston often finds his heart softening for the young princess, a soul so soft and loving that did her mother proud. He approaches her in the Godswood, maintain a healthy distance of course, but he cannot help the protective instinct that calls to him whenever Alicent's children were involved. "Oh is that so?" He says, chuckling under his breath as he approached her. "Is there any way I could assist you on your hunt, princess?"
A COLLECTION! What a wonderous mind-- the heart of a maiden and the mind of a scholar, princess Helaena truly did her family's name honor in many regards. "I used to catch insects in my youth back in Dorne."
⚔️ || @fyreborn has requested a starter
THE CLUNK OF HIS ARMOR WAS LOUD. And yet, it must have been a sort of comfort for others-- his presence was always known. "Your grace," He speaks softly approaching her. "I have been summoned to make your acquaintance?"
criston cole.
“IF YOU DISAGREE WITH MY METHODS OF TEACHING, Ser Harwin–” He says, unsheating his sword and staring at the man with nothing but contempt and disgust. “Perhaps you would do us the honor of offering a demonstration of an alternative.”
if there had ever been any shred of respect held for the member of the kindsguard, it was quickly lost the moment harwin took notice to how ser cole had been training others. a bully, harwin has decided. this man is nothing but an angry bully. what honor is there in that? and so he spoke out – spoke his mind, only to be met with the other bringing forth his sword. harwin’s hand clutches the hilt of his own, though it remains sheathed moments longer. ❝ think twice, ser cole. ❞ for he fears, should he engage in this demonstration, he may not have the restraint to know when to call it quits. ❝ this is not the time, nor place. ❞
HIGHBORN SONS WERE ALL THE SAME. Men who had never been denied anything-- and when they were they went ahead and took it anyway, grasping their desires in ways those who were lowborn could never do so without sacrificing honor or dignity. Does this man think himself better than he? This whelp that, even if strong, knew nothing of real combat-- had never drawn blood upon a battlefield-- had never known what it was like to work for what you earn. It sickens him. "Come now, Ser Strong." He taunts, succumbing to his base desires for blood and bone. "Do you think so little of me to assume I could not best you in combat?"
⚔️ || @royaltower has requested a starter
HE UNDERSTANDS THE SEVEN. That the Gods work in mysterious ways, and unlike the men who serve they, they all have a sacred duty or reason as to why they do the things they do. Why they uphold certain traditions and tests where others do not. To know the worthy from the false prophets.
AND HE WAS WORTHY. He had proven himself time and time again that he was-- by the sweat upon his brow, by the blood pumping within his veins. Ser Criston Cole had worked his hardest and had clawed through the muddiest of realms just to be able to be someone in Kingslanding. He had made the mistake of falling for the tests once, he will not do so once again.
HOWEVER, HE FEELS THIS IS DIFFERENT. With Rhaenyra, it has been a night of youthful passion muddled by misguided attention. It had been more lust driven than anything else and he had been a fool to not only soil his white cloak, but to offer such an embarrassing proposal as the one he had given on the boat many moons ago. But his queen respects him-- his queen had saved him from damnation.
SO IT IS WITH A HEAVY HEART that he knocks upon her chamber doors. He must not give into this tests-- he had been saved once by the grace of the queen's benevolence and he had walked the earth in search of repentance and had found it in her. She is to be revered, sculpted and molded with the shape of the Mother, and she herself carrying the holiest of truths close to her chest.
AS HE STRIDES INTO HER CHAMBERS, he resists the beauty of her big eyes, the way the sun shone on her light brown curls. "Your Grace," He commences, tucking his arms to his back as if that could secure his hold. "I require a moment of your time. I--" There's a moment where he blindly wants to ask her to run away with him-- to give her everything she as ever deserved-- a loving husband, a life free of stress. His stance hardens. "I am afraid I must resign my duty as your protector. My abilities at maintaining neutrality have been compromised." The back of his neck heats at the implication. He will not disgrace her with his affections-- not the same way the dragon princess and Ser Breakbones had once done. "I... apologize."
⚔️ || @drcgnrider has requested a starter
THE YEARS HAVE HARDENED SER CRISTON. His patience was thin and his grace for the princess was even thinner. "Your grace," He greets her, more out of duty than respect. "The queen requests your presence in her chambers."
Her pale brow arched, a shadow of a smirk threatening to tug upon the corner of her lips but the Princess held back any sarcastic comments. It was not the time for even more animosity when the spirits had become so thick already. “Ser Criston.” Rhaenyra greeted the man, lilac eyes taking in his familiar face, noting once more the lack of warmth that gaze once held for her. ( How the times had changed ) “I fear I cannot accept the Queen’s invitation.” The Princess winced as she tried to move in her seat, feeling another spike of mild pain through her abdomen “The labor had exhausted me enough, as did the walk to show her majesty my child.”
IT IS A TEST OF FAITH TO KEEP HIS PATIENCE AT BAY. With the years he has learned to hone in those instincts that he had seemed to nurse from a youth, those that prickle at impatience and that poke at indecency. This very same woman once managed to unmask him and left him bare to suffer ridicule as her desires and whims were first to his honor. And now she mothered bastards-- children out of wedlock and dared to call them legitimate. By that very same grace, those children would be given everything they ever desired-- not a single thing would be denied to them the way many things had been denied to him. Highborn fools are all the same. "Very well then," He replies rather calmly. "Do you have a reply for her Grace that you wish to relay through me, then?"
⚔️ || @kinslcyer has requested a starter
OPENING THE DOORS OF THE KEEP, Criston goes whenever he hears the glorious beast that is Vhagar sing. The skies are thunderous and they promise rain. Aemond seems in a shell schoked hurry to unmouth the dragon, which was a rare occasion in it of itself. "My prince," He calls forth, trying to reach out to a young man he considers a son. "What ails you? Did you not find a bride to your liking in Storm's End?"
⚔️ || @heireign has requested a starter
THE PRINCESS HAD ALWAYS BEEN INTIMIDATING. However, as his first day her own personal guard, he wishes for nothing but her favor. "Your Grace," He salutes, bowing respectfully as watches her come through the doors of her chamber. "How will we spend our day?"
as soon as she steps out of her chambers , she smiles , steps up to his side-— hands folding behind her back, chin lifting as eyes find his with a conspiratorial glimmer , “ we are going to do our very best to ignore everyone until absolutely necessary , as far as i know, council isn’t convening , so - i have no reason to not see where the wind may carry me. have you ever been to the dragonpits, ser criston ? “
THE PRINCESS' CHARM WAS EFFORTLESS. He now understood why she was called The Realm's Delight. Her smile shone brighter than the sun itself and she had such an enthusiastic burst of energy and wonder within her violet eyes that it was hard not to get affected by it. Smiling coyly, Criston places his hands behind his back and keeps up to pace to her delicate steps. "I am afraid that I haven't, your Grace." He replies, chuckling softly. "Dragons aren't well known allies to us back at Dorne-- I have only seem them up close when I made my travels to here in Kingslanding."
⚔️ || @aemnd has requested a starter
HE WAS PROUD OF HIM. Criston had watched the prince grow from a frightened boy to a confident young man who has his mother's grace and his father's poise and yet prince Aemond Targaryen was a creature of his own volition. Aemond was a master of the blade in ways that exceeded Criston's teaching methods and for that, a swell of pride fills his chest as if he were his own. "I'm afraid there's nothing more I can teach you, my prince." He jests, picking his own sword from the ground. "It seems the student has surpassed their tutor."
kingmakcr:
⚔️ || @breakbcnes has requested a starter
“A LITTLE LATE to be roaming around The Red Keep, don’t you agree Ser Harwin?”
Harwin pauses, turning to face the source of the familiar voice that made every muscle tense in self control to not lash out towards the other. A small smirk tugs at his lips as head tilts to the side when blue-green gaze finds his darker one. “Ser Cole, I could say the same to you.” His hands move to rest on the front of his belt. “I am returning to my chambers in the tower of the hand after my patrol. Or do you forget I am the lord commander of the city watch aside from the sworn shield of the princess?”
THE GAZE SICKENS HIM. The grin that crosses his features makes the very blood within his veins boil and bubble. A son of a lord first and lord commander of the city watch second, Strong held the same contempt for him that most of the other men in the Red Keep. No matter, he did not need to please anyone other than his most gracious majesty the Queen, so Strong's taunt was nothing to him other than just another jest from a highborn son who does not suffer consequences for his actions. "I forget no such thing," He replies as cordially as he could manage, hands restraining themselves behind his back. "Be sure to keep going then. We wouldn't want any tongues wagging about now, wouldn't we?"
⚔️ || @jorrhaellagonhas requested a starter
KNEELING, SER CRISTON LOOKS UP. The queen's famed beauty was one that could not be denied but he holds no ilusion. She is his superior and to her word he must obey. "At your service, your Grace." He says, awaiting her word to stand tall among his brothers.
