mine is the fury

Hearing a familiar male voice Myrcella turned around and stood up, facing the man she had once called her uncle. Before the war Renly had been one of her favourite family member’s, behind only her younger brother and her uncle Tyrion. After the war one of her main worries and concerns was what he thought of her now. Stannis had never really liked her, and it was no secret what he felt towards every Lannister, but Renly was a different case.

Lowering herself into a curtsy Myrcella kept her eyes on the ground, uncertain of how he would treat her, “Your Grace.”

His words made her remember of when she heard of his injury. It had worried her, made her furious with Stannis, how could anyone do that to their on brother. But then and she wasn’t in the position to discuss sibling relationships. “That night should have never happened. I do not know what King Stannis was thinking but to do such a thing? It’s despicable.” It was part of the reason she was somewhat worried about Trystane’s former resistance on accepting his engagement. After all if Stannis as willing to kill his own brother what would he be willing to do to someone who he had no relation to? “Perhaps, but then again there is no Godswood in Dorne, how could I pray to Gods that have never touched the place I currently live in?”

Even when the young woman before him was Robert’s daughters, Renly had not spent much time with her other than a few moments at events or during one of his brothers many feasts. He still knew that although she had all of her mothers beauty, Myrcella had none of her nature. Unlike her oldest brother. That devil had all of his parents worser traits and his own.

He did want to tell her that such formalities were not necissary buthe could not bring himself to do it. “You can rise,” was all he said. Best to keep it neutral.

The King nodded when she remarked how that night should never have happened. He knew it shouldn’t have. “It shouldn’t but it did and although it injured me it also enlightened me.” If Stannis could do that to his own brother than he knew that he had no worries doing it to anyone else. The only person that he was really concerned about was Joseph and if Stannis would try anything against him. “I’m not saying you go to a Godswood. You need to find the Gods that help you when your pray to them. Perhaps one in Dorne? I know you loved it there. My Gods taught me not to worry about peoples views on who I loved. Perhaps yours would do the same.” A lie but he did need to put this into to motion.

Visiting the Great Sept of Baelor as something that left somewhat of a bitter taste in Myrcella’s mouth. The horrors it witnessed during the war stil haunted the place, but then again to Myrcella the whole of Kings Landing was cursed. Currently standing in the middle of the room, with a white candle in her hands Myrcella had been lost in thought for quite some time. When she was young and something troubled her her Setpa always said to light a candle to the Gods and pray for their help. Now that notion was foolish, no God would fix her problems, she had to do it herself. However it was still somewhat of a tradition for her when dark thoughts plagued her mind.

Myrcella couldn’t light it for the Maiden, her virtue was very well protected, and the guidance she needed was more of another king. The Mother was out of the question, love was something very few felt for her since the early days of the war, and the number that did loved her was shrinking by the minute. Besides, since her own other Myrcella tended to avoid motherly figures. The father was one she never saw herself pray to, all her faults and mistakes were exposed on the bright daylight and the last thing she needed was someone else judging her. She wasn’t a knight, and courage, according to her uncle Tyrion was something she had plenty of, so the Warrior was ruled out as well. Myrcella was fully aware of what she had to do, so that ruled out the Crone, and the Smith, well, she had a hard job in front of her, but that wasn’t what plagued her. In the end all that was left was the Stranger. Some said that the outcasts favored this God for the fact that he as one himself, and these days for Myrcella this was the God she could relate to the most.

Stepping forward and lightning the wick of the candle she sunk to her knees and closed her eyes in meditation. Hearing footsteps approaching she couldn’t help but to say, “I still don’t understand why we pray to these Gods, after 23 name days it still confuses me. After all it’s not like they are going to come down to Earth, take our hands and help us through our troubles. The truth was something I found somewhat recently, the Gods just don’t care. We could all die and they would go on, we could all be miserable and they would ignore it. We suffer and pray to them for guidance, and all they do is watch us rot and die, without lifting a finger to help.”

Ever since his injuries from his brother and that Red Priestess of his, Renly had turned away from the faith of the Seven since they had not even tried to protect him and sought advice and faith from the Old ones. They had given him two Kingdoms, a healthy son and more things that he had become gratful for. He had only entered the Spet when his presence as King was required. Every week, and sometimes more, he would go to the Godswood and pray to his gods for all they done for him or if he needed some advice.

In the masquerade he had seen Myrcella, the young woman who use to be his niece. After teh War of Five Kings ended a lot of people wanted to kill the children between Cersei and Jaime Lannister but Renly and a few others protested that and said it would be best for the boy, Tommen, to be sent to the Wall with his uncle father while she reamin in Dorne. He had thought it would be safer and now with his borther plotting an alliance with the Martells. He thought that his wife hinted at trying to stop that so he thought Myrcella might be helpful with that. She had been in Dorne for a long time and was the first person to be betrothed to Tyrstanne.

He had seen her enter the Sept and so followed her in, remaining quiet as she looked around. His eyes gazed across the Seven in rememberence of before the War. People normally asssoiacted themselves with one God but even when he prayed to them he could not find one that he fitted with. “Then change the Gods you pray to. I did and I have been fortnante for it. I should have died that night. I have the scars to prove it and I prayed to Old gods. I don’t know why I did. All I could see was the Shadow and fire but in that moment I prayed to them and they came through. The Seven might not be the Gods that you pray to.”

Margaery believed that Stannis Baratheon should have been killed for his attempted assassination–or at the very least, his priestess should have been handed over to be hanged. Instead, he had been offered kingship out of good will, and fourteen years later it was serving to threaten their way of life. Calmly, evident of the fact she had thought on it for some time, Margaery replied: “a life-altering marriage will not come in a fortnight. The first step is to ensure that the Martell alliance is destroyed. We should have Shireen invited into our home, ensure her that the past does not extend to her…dote on her and treat her like one of our own–having her heart is a valuable thing. It’s not enough to hope that Stannis will ruin his plots on his own–we need to begin to win his family from him.” The Florents and Tyrells had a tumultuous past, highlighted by Garlan’s taking of Brightwater Keep–it would be difficult, she thought, but not impossible to win Selyse Baratheon too. “We must do what we can to weaken the Martell resolve as well…Myrcella Waters is kept like a pet in Dorne, and it makes me very curious. There’s something there, something that could be useful. If we intend to maintain peace, this must be a war fought with subtlety and provocative words.”

“I’m certain because Hardyng is as unlikable as he is handsome, and Willas is gallant and brilliant. And she would be here, with me, where I would ensure her happiness–not off in the Vale where she’ll be a pretty political victory.”

Renly was not happy that Stannis was King but it was working for the realm even if he was still a hard and cruel man. What angered Renly was that Melisandre was still at his side and whispering in his ear which showed him that he put her above his own family. More than that, to Renly it seemed that he was happy with what she had done to him. “So you are trying to prevent two marriages and encourage another?” Renly gave his wife a smile. She was nothing if not productive. “You have been more busy than I thought. We show Shireen that she doesn’t have to be married off to get a sense of happiness and show her a different life. Is that what you are saying?” Shireen was a lonely child but she was also loyal to her father. It would not be easy.

"I know she was innocent with everything that went on with her mother and family but I am still suspicious. I don’t know why they would take such a strong interest in her when she is just a bastard. Worse than that, one born of incest.”

“I do not know him so I can not say anything for or against his character but I’ve heard rumors. Someone once told me that he had almost as many bastards as Robert. I still suggest to let her choose. So much of her life has been monitored and controlled by the Lannisters, give her freedom and if it does not work out you are there for her. As her friend.”

“Robb is marrying for love, which while admirable is highly ill-advised. I imagine his small council has proposed women for him for well-near fourteen years. Hoping that he might find a girl, fall in love with her, marry her and have her pregnant with his child…we should consider other options. The realm is different now–the number of unmarried noble girls running about approaching their twenty-fifth name days is enough to show it. You should speak with Robb, and see if any ladies have caught his interest. I do not imagine Winterfell sees many women entertained, but perhaps I might be wrong.” It would be even better, she thought, if she could manage another child–a daughter–and Robb a son. Margaery would be only too able to groom a girl into a Queen. She implied as much: “I would like to see our alliance cemented through marriage. I’m not altogether sure Joseph would be the correct match.”

“It matters for several reasons. Principally, Sansa would be happier Willas–and my family would certainly be happier for it. Hardyng is also a very arrogant, unlikeable boy, and I should like to see the smugness wiped from his face, if only for an instant. Most importantly, perhaps, is that Petyr Baelish is very insistent that this union does take place–you knew the man, you must know that any plan he has a principal role in it is one to be suspicious of.”

"If he is marrying for love than it shouldn’t be too long after the wedding that he has a child. I believe his small council would have been doing that for all the Stark’s in Winterfell including Rickon. His council understands that they need alliances and mine has been saying similar things. There are no other options.” With a sigh Renly sat next to his wife and moved closer so that only she could hear him. “They are worried about Stannis and so am I. The dragons now in Westeros has everyone worried and I’m sure Melisandre and her fire god already have plans for them. We need alliances to help with this. The Dragon Queen has no children to have that kind of alliance so we must do something and will ensure our alliance with the North will help that.”

"How can you be certain she will be happier?” He did not know why he was entertaining the concern over Sansa Stark and her suitors. With her beauty and name he was sure that she would have many. “From what I hear, The Heir is going to inherit The Vale. She might be happy with that. We do not know. Petyr Baelish is insistent on many things and if that union is one of the many it is probably because he wants to use his involvement for a place in Harrold or Daenery’s council. I do not recal if he is on any. That man was going to open the gates of Kings Landing for me during the war for a place on the council. A marriage to do isn’t far fetched. Let the girl choose herself. If she picks Willas, Harrold or even another Lord it should be her choice after everything she has gone through.”

“No, not all the time,” she allowed. Olenna Tyrell seemed to be right all the time–her Grandmother had a political foresight that had allowed them to flourish as they had. Even when they had gotten involved with the war after Loras had convinced Mace, Olenna had taken the shock and worked quickly. There was never anything that Margaery felt her Grandmother would not already know about–would not have already prepared for. Though Olenna often paid compliments to her granddaughter for having risen in her shadow, Margaery hoped she could be truly as great as the woman was. Her gaze roamed briefly over the large number of guests in the hall, and she nodded her head in agreement. “Yes, I think so. It’s been very successful.”

“He should try to engage with the girls his age. It’s diplomacy, like anything else.” The amused smile on her face disagreed with her words. “So do I. It’s why I went to the trouble of seeing that the boy would come in the first place.”

She regarded Renly thoughtfully after the thought of an arrangement was proposed. “I would not be opposed to it,” she began slowly, “…but I think to rely on the King in the North having a child is unwise. And even if he were to do it–if he had a woman this very evening, married her and raised that child as his heir, Joseph would be very nearly fifteen by the time the child was born. Assuming that the child is a girl, would he so much as consent to making an arrangement with such a disparity in age?” There was an easy solution in it, so far as Margaery saw–if they had more children themselves, their prospects for crafting alliances through marriages would grow considerably. “We should be concerning ourselves with the current Princess of the North. Without the proper intervention, Sansa Stark will marry Harrold Hardyng–that I will not allow.”

"I have yet to meet a person who is.” It was true. He had met plenty of people who thought they were always right and made it clear they thought it. People often made guesses in the game for the throne but the outcome, no matter how good they guessed, was never something for certain even with the right players. “I am sure everyone has nothing but positive things to say about tonight.”

Their son did need to spend more time with children his age rather than his uncles. It would be better and much easier when they would try and find a match for him. “I agree. I’ve tried encouraging him but he wants none of it. He probably hasn’t seen the boy just yet. Once he does I’m sure the two of them will be inseperable and theh might even find two young ladies they decide to ask to dance.” It was a good effort on Margaery’s part but Renly hoped Joseph would actually act on it.

A look of surprise came on the King’s face as Margaery said she would not be opposed to it but he was sure there would be more to follow so kept quiet until she finished talking. “Robb will have a wife soon, I’m sure of it. He is a very attractive man with two large Kingdom’s and a family name that has come to mean honor. Add the stories that they say about him and the songs it will not be long.” He was surprised it had taken Robb this long. “There have been bigger age gaps in relationships and engagements. Joseph is fourteen. He will have a coming of age tour soon and then he will have a betrothal. A joining like that between our families will make us even stronger. I would rather my child marry into my friends family than a strangers one.” It was something Robert had thought of when he believed Joffrey was his own and even Ned Stark had agreed to a similar union. It just seemed perfect for Renly. Stark and Baratheon always seemed to be linked.

“What does it matter if Sansa Stark marries Hardyng? She isn’t heir to Robb’s kingdoms and if he makes her happy should you really interfere?” Renly hadn’t paid much attention to Sansa Stark or who was vying for her affections. It was only those he was involved with that he paid attention to.

“He is still a child,” Margaery countered, though her voice had softened some. She was reminded constantly by all members of her family that her son was no longer a boy, but as close to him as she was she struggled to accept that. There was nothing she loved so much as being a mother–and having a child who was so bright and attentive to every lesson she had to teach. “That’s different. Loras knew he would be a knight when he was very young.”

"A child almost grown,” Renly pointed out knowing that the people of Westeros would expect great things of Joseph given his two families. “The sooner he can use steel properly or good enough to fight the better. He wants it and he should already be able to use it.” Renly understood why Maegaery was protective of Joseph but he did still need to learn certain things. “If he weren’t a prince he would want to be a Knight. Joseph is a prince, he should still know this. I’ve spoken with Loras and he agrees with me. Once this party is done I’m going to find someone to train him with steel. Someone that isn’t family and so will not go easy on him.”

Margaery knew it was no stroke of luck that Joseph had become who he was. Renly had been well-liked by the people, and Margaery had spent her formative years in Highgarden spreading smiles and charity works. Where kindness and money were plentiful–and it was certainly the case with their lands–the people tended to respond enthusiastically. Joseph would not struggle to have the love of his subjects–he already had it. “It seems that way,” Margaery mused. With a shrug of her shoulders, she sighed gently. “I won’t deny it to him. Garlan and Willas will see after him–keep him from being hurt by it.”

The moment Renly became tied with the Tyrell family, for all to see, he knew that it was a powerful alliance and now with an heir to that, it cemented that power. The Old Gods had been fortunate to Renly and had protected him and blessed him far more than the New Gods. Joseph was just as blessed if not more. The people loved him and he had two powerful families protecting and supporting him. Renly only wished he could see his son as King, it would be unique and a new type of ruler, he thought.

“I understand his frustration with only using a wooden weapon. A steel sword will be good for him. He is old enough for one. Fourteen.” It seemed to go so fast. “I think I practised with steel when I was younger than Joseph. Loras told me he did.”

Myrcella couldn’t help but to be annoyed at the man sipping the wine, she had been looking for Dornish wine all evening dammit. “You’re party? How could it-” her words trailed ff once she got a good look at his face. Yes Renly was a little older, but his face was still very much the same, “Y-Your Grace! My apologies, I should have minded my words, please forgive me.” Dipping into a curtsy Myrcella remained bowed, her eyes on the floor, praying to any God that would listen that he would not recognize her.

Renly knew that he was being a little rude to the young woman but it was the first glass of wine he had had five years shy of two decades. The maesters had warned him before the ball not to have too much and only a glass or two and he was going to make sure those two glasses would be of the finest wine. He did not answer the beginning of her question and let her realize it on her own, smiling as she did in a playful manor. “It is a party. You are forgiven. I am quite surprised you aren’t dancing. I’m sure there will be a few Lords and nobles wanting to take your arm. What is your name?”

“Times when I am right?” Margaery echoed, a light-hearted question in her tone. “I’m curious to know what times I’ve been wrong.” She was glad to see that he had chosen wear that so clearly told anyone who looked exactly who he was–images were critical, and it was important that people should be able to report that they had seen the King amidst the bunch, and more specifically that they had seen him with his Queen. She had figured they ought to dance together, later on, when the initial excitement died down and there were more eyes apt to look on. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. I hoped that you would.”

“Have you seen Joseph?” She questioned, though it was more for conversation than out of any kind of worry. “I’ve yet to find him amongst the crowd…though, I suspect he could’ve run off with the Stark boy.” Though it had seemed like a good idea to position Rickon as a potential friend for her son, Margaery had wondered if the youngest Stark was perhaps too wild for her mild-mannered, good-natured child.

"No one can be right all the time. Not even a King or a Queen. It is why I have my small council and why I have you at my side.” Renly gave her a light smile and hoped that would have appeased his wife. His clothes had been a bold move, a lot more than he would have liked but he knew some may think of him as weak and he had to show them they were wrong. He might not be as able as he once once but he was dead or close to it yet. “I have always enjoyed myself at Tyrell balls. From my coming of age tour, my time as Lord of Storm’s End and now. As King.” So much and all done in such a small amount of time. “Everyone here is having a good time.”

Renly had spotted their son not too long ago and noticed how he had preferred to stay in the sidelines rather than on the ballroom floor. “Yes, I don’t think he likes these things too much. He is more interested in weapons and stories of the North I think.” Their son was a curious boy. “Rickon, isn’t it? I think he and Joseph should be great friends and if Robb has a daughter, a Princess of the North, we should talk to him about an arrangement for our children.” He watched Margaery’s face closely, wondering how she would take the news.

valyrianqueen-deactivated201604

♚ —— Although Renly watched the dragons, Daenerys watched him. He seemed captivated by them, but that was a better reaction than the silver queen could hope for. There were some who wanted the dragons dead, or put in chains and locked away from people. Both seemed like rash and unreasonable decisions, when for now the dragons were content to hunt falcons and mountain sheep.

❝Of course.❞ She expected nothing less than for Renly to deny anything that might seem like a weakness. It was something she herself had been doing for a long time, albeit not for a physical injury.

❝I have heard of it. My handmaidens are far more enthusiastic than I am. They’ve already started work on my costume. Every night they ask me to try it on to see how it fits, as if I might have grown very much during the course of a day.❞

Noticing the Kingdom below the dragons, Renly’s mind could help but to shift from the beauty of the dragons to the destructions he had heard of in the past. The people would know of it and he did wonder if they admired them like he had and how quick they would be to fear them had they not already. It had been a long time since Dragons lived and everyone had grown accustom to that, living in peace and away from the flame.

"Thank you,” he said with strength in his voice that he lacked in his body. “I assure you, before the war I would only need a few seconds but black magic from the Fire God worshipper and my own brother has done this to me. His own kin and last surviving brother.”

Now for why he was truly visiting the Queen after so long.

“Stannis Baratheon is not to be trusted. The Priestess Melisandre is not either and I believe her to be the very corruption that persuaded my brother to try and kill me. The idea may have been in his head before, her but it was executed with her influence. I am not sure what Gods you pray to, Khaleesi,” a name he had to get in, “but she will want your dragons in the name of her Lord of Light. That is my belief and she is dangerous on her own but with your children she will destroy more than Westeros.

#valyrianqueen

Myrcella had heard, through some gossiping ladies, that there dornish red in the hall. Do decided to have some she made her way through the room, smelling each and every free cup of wine she saw. Finally Myrcella reached the last tray she had yet to test. It was the last cup in the tray reaching to take it she saw someone’s hand get there first. At hearing the question she couldn’t help but to answer. “It depends, is it dornish red? Because if it is yes then, it’s mine.”

Renly chuckled and gave the woman a look before sipping the wine. “Dornish red but since this is my party I am sure you will not mind if I take it. There will be more coming soon, my wife has planned this enough so there should not be a fault.” Or he hoped there would not be, “Who did you come here with, I do not recognise your face or voice.”

kingofthedirewolf

The night had been quite a bore if he was honest, and he was glad to see that the other King seemed to be enjoying the ball just as much as him. Balls were more for the women than for the men he thought. “No, you may take it.” He stated, his eyes studying the man he had fought alongside. Robb trusted Renly, which was a rare thing for him as of late. “Please, sit with me, I could do with some good company.”

#kos event #kos starter #wow this sucks but its the best i can do for now

It had been far too long since he had last seen his friend and with peace, Renly knew that he had no excuse for it other than he was getting his Kingdoms in order but he had sent ravens expressing his hopes for Robb’s family adjusting to Winterfell again. “Thank you. It is a rare thing for me to have wine and I would rather share it with my friend. Are you not having a good time?” Renly asked as he sat down beside Robb.

#kingofthedirewolf

The maesters had warned him against drinking any ale or wine but it was a party and Renly could not help himself to just one glass of the sweet Dornish wine. The mask he wore for the event had prevented him drinking with ease so the King took it off and took the glass of wine from the strangers table. “Is this anyones?” he asked to make sure he would not offend anyone.

The truly misfortunate consequence of being the host of an event as grand as the harvest moon masquerade was that the concept of having a concealed identity was not one she identified as being particularly plausible. Her features were unique and easily identifiable to those who knew what to look for–be it her near-constant smirk or the long, gently waved chestnut hair that characterized her family name. It was not to say that she had not participated in the fullest, of course, she had certainly set the bar– – (X) (X) (X) A gown constructed of an artful combination of both real and faux flowers, which rose in a stiff, sheer collar round her neck; as well as offshoots of similar fabric round her shoulders. and released a flowery fragrance every time she turned this way or that. Silken pieces of an endearing shade of lilac wrapped round her legs and followed to the heels on her feet– – (X) A mask the same shade of green as the pieces on her dress, which extended into long thorned stalks reminiscent of a rose. Her long hair was pulled up and back to compliment it, and the waves dripped down her back from where they were perched. As candlelight danced about, drops of emerald and amethyst that had been placed into her hair shimmered. –…But she was every bit the rose of Highgarden that evening, and it did not play to the strength of having a mysterious identity. Nonetheless, the Queen of the Reach and the Rock found herself thoroughly enjoying the festivities.

Saddling up next to a masked party-goer with a drink in her hand–unsipped, in order to keep her mind ever-sharp, but held onto for the purposes of image–she greeted them with a smile.

“There are so many people here who seem to have arrived out of diplomacy and obligation–but you look like you may be truly enjoying yourself. Is that true, or have I grossly misjudged?”

#thornedmargaery #kosevent

The last time Renly had attended many of the masquerade balls held in Highgarden as a Lord but after his injuries in the War of the Five Kings he had never felt the need to attend. It was always too much but this year he was adamant to attend. Normally he would show up in a obvious mask to his identity, something bold and grad that drew the eye to look at it only to change into a different one later in the night so that he could spend the night with his lover.

This time his plans had been far different. As a King of two Kingdom’s he knew that he could do such routines anymore and his affliction did not help it either. Instead he wore a bone white mask of a stag skull with golden brown antlers at the top that covered all of his face. Not something he would have usually picked but he did so thinking that it would honor or pay tibute to his fallen family and that he was almost among them.

His clothes had been mostly brown with white sleeves to match the mask and make the colours of the mask stand out a lot more. He could not help but to look around at the room he saw the effort every single person had put into their costumes and regretted all the years he did not attend.

Some people had clearly shown to represent their houses in their costumes and masks, for some it had worked excellently but others...he could see it had been last minute.

The King smiled when he saw everyone dancing and having a good time. When he saw the woman dressed in a beautiful gown that would clearly be the envy of most people, he nodded at her suspecting that it might have been his wife.

“There are times when you are right and this is one of them. I am having one of the best times. The Tyrell’s have never failed me when it comes to their parties.”

Renly’s Masquerade outfit

#kos event

valyrianqueen-deactivated201604

♚ —— King’s Landing was built for dragons, she almost said, but bit her tongue. Her dragons were happy in the Vale, and even she was growing accustomed to it. Viserys would sneer to know that she hadn’t crushed what was left of Westeros’ armies while they were weakened by one war already – then, perhaps, all seven of the kingdoms could be hers, and not just one. But she and her brother were two very different people. Daenerys knew that wars were fought by soldiers, not kings, and she could hardly ask the people of Westeros to love a queen who brought slaughter upon them just as peace was being won.

She gave a respectful nod as Renly asked for rest. He seemed stubborn enough to hardly let it bother him, but she was no fool. Climbing a mountain was difficult, even for her. ❝Take your time.❞

❝A poor choice of wording,❞ Dany admitted. ❝You are welcome here at any time, but I know how busy a ruler can become. Social visits can eat up precious time. I’m glad to see you, only surprised.❞