[lcstmisfits]

PRINCE AEGON TARGARYEN callum turner | 32 | intro | pinterest

[bareruin]

a nod of thanks as he reaches for the goblet, raising it slightly as he speaks. " your grace, " the road south had been a tedious one. though there had been a time when the young lord stark took any excuse to stray from winterfell's walls, duty had long since stripped all romance from the idea. such travel was a poor expenditure these days, and though his wedding could wait, the north’s hunger could not. avan would offer no such complaint in present company. his gaze wanders across the hall before settling back on the prince. " as well as could be expected. i trust the realm has not made too great a demand of its host? "

[lcstmisfits]

aegon bows his head slightly as lord avan raises his goblet, a polite greeting from the northman. he always enjoyed the starks, visiting his aunt when he was younger with his dragon made the travel easy, now he can't imagine making the trek dragon-less. "that is good to hear," he replies politely. "the realm always demands much but we are happy hosts and wish for all to feel welcome." the words felt fake and political on his tongue, as if they came from his father instead. "if there is anything that could make your stay more pleasant, please don't hesitate to ask."

[morsplacida]

“  my  prince.  ”  calanthe  ducks  her  head  in  custom,  the  falsely  present  smile  that  she  had  perfected  over  decades  slipping  onto  her  lips.  she  could  not  recall  the  last  that  she  had  seen  the  heir.  perhaps  as  a  child  when  he  had  graced  oldtown,  yet  now  a  man  with  children  of  his  own.  “  certainly.  there  are  many  entertainers  of  all  sorts  in  oldtown,  yes.  we  have  those  native  to  westeros  that  stop  by  on  their  travels  and  those  that  come  from  over  the  sea  to  sell  their  wares  and  peruse  what  our  taverns  and  merchants  can  give  in  return.  ”  testament  of  her  own  lineage  with  a  lyseni  mother  that  had  charmed  her  father  in  the  markets.  “  the  citadel,  no  matter  how  beautiful  and  reputable,  does  little  in  way  of  offering  insight  to  the  troupes  that  give  shows.  perhaps  you  may  soon  visit  us  again.  i  will  request  some  of  my  favorite  should  you  and  your lady  wife  wish  to  travel.  ”   

[lcstmisfits]

a polite smile pulled on his lips, bowing his head back to the lady. sometimes he wondered if anyone would be polite to him if he was born into a different family, if he wasn't the heir to the throne, would they amuse him with these silly conversations? he knew the answer was probably not. none the less, he was happy to be humored as he listened to calanthe speak of the entertainers of oldtown. "that sounds lovely, honestly. i'm sure you get a plethora of interesting characters and stories from across the narrow sea." while kings landing does see others from around the world, they aren't typically welcome in the red keep without an invitation from his father. "you are far too kind, my lady. i would love to visit, i have not been to oldtown since my studies took me to the citadel with questions as a young boy. perhaps my lady wife and i can bring the children and show them the wonders that are out there."

[hellbcunds]

she doesn't get to see her nieces and nephews in the crownlands nearly as often as she would like. especially since their dragons passed, their travel becoming a much harder thing to do. it did nothing to sway her softness for him as one of the first born children of her siblings, special place in her heart for him and alayne's oldest especially. her face turns from stone to brightness at the sight of him, mouth splitting in open adoration. " aegon. " she cares very little for decorum as she wraps him in a hug, if only momentarily before pulling back to look him over. " fucking dreadful to travel from the north. the children loved it, though. alaric has never been so talkative as he has since taking in he new scenery. " she sighs softly, hands on his upper arms as she squeezes gently. " and you? how have things been here? "

[lcstmisfits]

wrapped in the arms of his aunt, for a short moment aegon felt as if he was a child again. he always loved his arryn aunts growing up, their softness remained even as he grew into a man. "the kings road is always long and tedious, i always disliked it myself without naerax to fly the way." without his dragon, he has scarlessly made the trek up to the north, instead needing to rely on horses. "we will have to get the children together, maegelle has been excited to meet her cousins." aerys was a bit too young to understand, but he was just happy to try all of the cakes the kitchens have been putting out. "things have been well," was it a lie? perhaps, but he wasn't going to jump straight into what has been happening between the king and queen the second her sister walked in the castle. "it has been busy preparing for the festivities, you know how much my father loves to put on a show."

[wispygrace]

she squinted her eyes as she peered upwards, the room spinning ever so slightly, “is that.. prince aegon?" 

oh dear gods, it was. and she just spoke that aloud. may the mother have mercy on her, and on her unfortunate fondness for an overabundance of wine.

“oh prince aegon, yes right.... refilling my cup.. with water. excellent idea, my prince. ” she nervously laughed as the words started to tumble out of her mouth. myriame manderly was not a woman easily humbled. she had been raised in white harbour, she knew how to navigate feasts and conversations with arrogant nobles. yet here she stood, half drunk and red faced, having drenched the heir to the realm in wine.

utterly humbled.

“oh gods, i must apologise. i have had far, far too much wine. clearly.”

truth be told, she didn’t particularly think much of the targaryens. southern dragon lords were not where her loyalties lay. the iron throne sat too far away from white harbour. still, disliking a prince and embarrassing one were vastly different matters. only a fool made an enemy of the targaryens. aegon appeared unbothered, which almost made matters worse. those who smiled could still hold grudges. princes most of all, she knew enough tales of court to understand that. 

she had to think to lessen any potential damage. something that feigned ignorance. 

she cleared her throat, “i must blame it on the luxury of the feast your family have hosted. i am afraid in the north nothing could compare. i suppose i got a little carried away. my mistake..." the lie tasted bitter in her mouth. nothing could compare? nonsense. white harbour's feasts could rival any in the realm. still, she forced the words out through gritted teeth, offering what she hoped resembled a gracious smile.

[lcstmisfits]

a forced but polite smile pulled on aegon's lips, one he's used a million times over his life. he was not an angry man, a bit of spilt wine was not enough to ruin the night. instead, he smiled and shook his head lightly at the northerner. "no need to fuss," aegon said in a gentle voice, as if he was speaking to his own daughter for spilling juice. "it is a feast and beverages are flowing, mistakes will happen." his hands wiped down the front of his shirt, wondering how many layers the red was going to stain before the traditional black, targaryen doublet.

"i do hope this does not put a damper on the feast, we wish for all to enjoy themselves while they are here in the capital," his words were so political, he never could turn off that side of his brain when he was in crowds. always in the mindset of the heir and not just a man. "it is nice to see others enjoying themselves, even at the cost of my shirt," he chuckled lightly and awkwardly.

[lcstmisfits]

open starter late evening, day four, outside the red keep

it had been many years since she had been in king's landing, the last time being the wedding of the crown prince and the lady ysara. she hated this foul city, the closeness of the people, the smell of rot and stink that never seems to leave, the whispers and watching eyes. she never understood why so many fought to rule this place. she'd much rather be back home in sunspear, but when the king requests everyone to come, you weren't one to deny him even if you would rather be anywhere but here. with hands clasped behind her back, obella walked along the yard, looking up at the dusk sky. "the city seems so less grand without the dragons, i still expect them to call through the clouds, and yet..." her words trailed off. what power did the targaryens have without their dragons? time will show the truth.

[fxllencrxwn]

Location: Fourth day, during the performances and plays

Open to anyone

Ashara was bored and anyone that would pay a little attention to her could see that. Plays and performances were not something she enjoyed, she did not see the appeal in them. Ashara much preferred watching melee tournaments or jousting competitions, anything that involved violence and possible death. Her presence here was necessary and the only reason why she agreed to come was because her father had asked it from her. Ashara would definitely rather be anywhere else, whether it was back home in Pyke or out in the sea aboard her ship. At least there was wine, even though it was far too sweet for her taste. Ashara took a long sip from her goblet, a sighed escaping her lips. "I cannot believe people enjoy this and waste their time watching it." She commented, more to herself than anyone else.

[lcstmisfits]

obella, to her credit, was able to at least act like she was enjoying the performances. though if anyone asked, she would not be able to tell them what they were about. she was not the type to watch plays or listen to singers, but when the king goes all out for his guests, she knows its best to play the part of a grateful party member. hearing a voice from beside her, obella let out a small chuckle under her breath at how it seemed the other woman was reading her mind. "i suppose there is some merit to it," she started before giving in to the same sentiment, "but i can attest that it is not for me. there are far better things i would like to spend my time with."

[dragnbane]

it  is  not  that  aemon  dislikes  his  brother's  presence.  he  cares  for  him  deeply,  much  like  he  does  the  rest  of  his  siblings,  it  is  the  pressure  of  having  the  crown  prince  standing  beside  oneself  in  a  hall  full  of  the  greatest  nobility  in  westeros.  that  it  was  an  inevitable  thing  that  people  would  turn  to  look  in  their  direction,  that  they  would  watch  and  scrutinize.  aemon  was  used  to  it  of  course,  had  been  for  as  long  as  he  could  remember,  but  it  is  daunting  even  at  the  age  of  seven  and  twenty.  "apologizes,  my  prince,  but  i  am  afraid  what  father  will  do  if  he  hears  the  informality  of  my  tone." their  father  had  never  been  the  kindest  to  aemon.  he  was  not  horrible,  but  he  was  not  what  a  father  should  have  been  and  aemon  can  hear  the  scolding  already  beginning  to  pound  around  inside  of  his  skull  if  he  did  not  act  proper.  "you  can  say  what  you  truly  mean,  aegon,"  aemon's  eyes  grow  fond  as  he  looks  over  to  his  brother,  a  small  smile  begins  to  curl  up  the  corners  of  his  lips.  he  knew  his  brother  too  well,  perhaps  he  knew  all  of  his  siblings  too  well  from  hiding  in  the  shadows  his  whole  life.  "it  is  an  occasion  where  our  father  gets  to  boast  for  our  house  —  not  that  i  am  upset  at  being  a  targaryen  —  he  just  wishes  everyone  were  to  feel  that  way." traveling  had  never  been  aemon's  favorite  thing  to  do.  long  journeys  on  horseback  always  made  some  part  of  him  ache,  that  and  the  fact  he  had  to  hear  how  much  people  disliked  his  house  —  save  for  him,  the  smallfolk  would  tell  him,  you  are  a  good  child.  "have  you  ever  known  me  to  enjoy  myself  in  such  crowds?"  it  takes  him  a  second  to  swallow  down  the  laugh.  "you  remember  my  wedding,  i  was  trying  to  make  every  excuse  i  could  to  leave  and  it  was  my  own  celebration."  was  marrying  someone  as  celebratory  as  he  had  always  wished  it  to  be?  "i  am  hoping  to  at  least  be  able  to  retire  early,  perhaps  if  i  stick  around  long  enough  and  smile  at  a  few  lords,  kiss  the  hand  of  a  few  ladies,  father  will  be  satisfied  with  my  performance."

[lcstmisfits]

even in a back corner, the two brothers' couldn't escape the pressure that their father puts on them. the formalities aren't dropped because what if someone over heard and believed that the princes of house targaryen were unruly. as if their father hadn't just given a strange welcoming speech to all the lords and ladies. aegon let out a sigh and ducked his head, "yes, yes of course, father always watching." it felt, at least of aegon, that their father was even more watchful these days, always glancing over his shoulders as if he's expecting something to happen in the halls of the red keep. it worried him just how much their father has changed. "he wants to show that we are a strong, united front. that despite everything, we are still the blood of the dragon." blood of the dragon who don't have any dragons.

"does anyone enjoy crowds?" he asked rhetorically. aegon liked to believe that he understood his brother well, he knew it was difficult for him. he was sure aemon would rather escape to some tavern in flea bottom than be trapped here with so many people around and watching them. aegon would also like to escape but his reprieve came in the form of the quiet of his bed chambers with his oil paintings. "i understand, even i wish i could retire to my bed chambers early, though i believe it will be easier for you to slip away than i." how was he going to survive a full week of this? he was already tired and fighting off a knot in his stomach.

[lcstmisfits]

king maelor offers his welcome to princess obella martell, of sunspear. across the realm, they are praised as ambitious and brave, though courtly whispers insist they can also be impatient and pessimistic behind closed doors. still, their allegiance is said to lie with dorne. their presence evokes imagery of an expertly sharpened dagger hidden under trousers, late nights under the stars, watchful eyes taking mental notes, the smell of spices and incense , enough to inspire any storyteller. with so many tales in circulation, separating truth from fiction may prove no easy task.

BASIC INFORMATION

Full Name: obella martell

Titles: princess and ruling liege of sunspear

Nickname(s): n/a

Date of Birth: during the fourth moon in 91ac

Age: 40

Orientation: lesbian

Marital Status: married to lady tbd nee tbd

Children: n/a

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Hair: black with some greying around the ears and temple. curly and cut to a medium length. usually tossed about messily

Eyes: golden brown

Height: 5'4

Built: thin and muscular

PERSONALITY & BEHAVIOR:

Strengths: brave, headstrong, independent

Weaknesses: impulsive, impatient,

Quirks: is very particular about her wines and will make it known with her face

Likes: tbd

Dislikes: tbd

BACKGROUND

obella cares about one thing and one thing only, dorne. She hates the targaryens and wishes her ancestors would have stuck to their morals and never bent the knee. Dorne was the last kingdom to fall and obella wants to bring them back from the ashes now that the dragonlords have no power. She wants to see the targaryens fall while working in the shadows to grow dorne’s power and allies. Her intentions are hidden to those outside of sunspear, a polite ruling liege to the rest of the realm.  obella seems quiet and watchful on the outside but she is cunning and cut throat. She is always scheming and planning and looking to a future where she will be free to rule her kingdom without the weak minded dragonless king getting in her way. She is married and cares deeply for her family. She loves her nieces/nephews as if they were her own kids and has named the oldest her heir to bypass the succession issue of her siblings, both blood and adopted. 

[illuminvtes]

“yes, i think so. i was lucky when i carried maegelle and aerys; i was rarely unwell at all. perhaps the seven have decided to humble me with this one.”

she said it lightly, as though announcing another child to the prince were no more serious than remarking on the weather. the ring was set aside, and she settled more comfortably in her chair, crossing one leg over the other with practiced ease, her hands folding loosely in her lap.

speaking of the king was always a careful thing. she did not fear honesty with aegon, not when he was the one person at court she could speak to without thought of performance. but there was still a difference between speaking plainly and moving a piece across the board without the others realizing it had been touched at all.

and maelor, whether by design or instinct, was making the work easier.

“he is watching,” she said at last, her tone thoughtful rather than accusing as the moved the conversation forward and away from herself. “i think this celebration is as much for observation as for pageantry. the tournaments to see who excels, the feasting to hear who speaks too freely, the dancing and drink to learn who gathers around whom.” her mouth curved faintly, though there was little warmth in it. “even the kneeling. especially the kneeling. he has been… wary, lately. nervous of what people might be capable of.”

her gaze lingered on aegon’s face, searching it with quiet attention, as if for the smallest sign that he understood what she meant. or perhaps, with the quietest of hopes, that he was finally nearing the desire to make moves for himself for once.

[lcstmisfits]

"yes, they gods had blessed you with ease at those times," aegon said, not entirely focused on the words. the meaning going over his head for just a moment too long before- "this one?" he asked, finally connecting what his wife was telling him. "what are you saying? that you are-?" he almost didn't want to say it out loud. he wanted to hear if from ysara's lips. the idea of a third child running around, not the heir or a spare but a third would have the whole world in front of them to do as they please. perhaps this one would come out looking like him; not that he minds his dark haired children when they come out looking like their beautiful mother. aegon looked to his wife with an almost excitement in his eyes.

there was only one place where aegon felt comfortable speaking his mind and it was behind these walls of his bedchambers, the only place in the red keep where he knew he was safe, where he had personally made sure there were no weak spots for words to travel. so when ysara spook freely, aegon followed.

"aye, i would not doubt there will be new white cloaks given out at the end of the tourney." it would be like his father to want to change the guard to people he deemed worthy under his odd rulings. but that is not a good way to bring about trust of those he was displeasing.

his finger taps against the side of his cup as he thinks over her words. maelor was putting on a show, welcoming everyone to his home and pretending that everything is okay, as if he hadn't made slight at many of the great houses.

aegon got up from the table and began to slowly pace. "my father is not the same man that sat upon the throne as a young man. i fear he is reaching a point of no return since dismissing so many from his council." he wished to speak to his aunt but even behind these ways, he did not wish to speak that desire aloud.

[lcstmisfits]

closed starter for lysara stark @hellbcunds during the first day welcome feast

the halls began to fill and aegon would be lying if he said he wasn't more interested in certain people than others. friends and family who had not seen for many months. since losing the dragons, aegon also lost his ability to travel the realm quickly to visit different corners of the realm. one group of those people he was most excited to see were that of his aunts and uncles of the vale. with the mystery of what was going on with his father and mother, aegon wished he could give the arryns answers, instead he just had guilt sitting like a rock in his stomach. though lady lysara was in the north these days, she was still his aunt and her sister was being hidden away a way from their family. "aunt lysara," aegon greeted before pressing a polite kiss to each of her cheeks. "welcome, welcome. how was your travels? well, i hope?"

[lcstmisfits]

closed starter for avan stark @bareruin during the first day welcome feasts

the halls of the red keep were filled with great lords and ladies from all of the the realm, welcomed by the king's (strange) words, food and drink passed around among the guests. aegon himself could not bring himself to eat as much as he wished, between his anxieties and the greetings he needed to give to the guests, he knew he would be visiting the kitchens late tonight after the scraps were packed away and begging the cooks to make him a bowl of his favor stew. familiar faces filtered into the hall, upon seeing the brother of his good-sister, avan stark, aegon grabbed a couple cups of wine and made his way over. "lord stark," aegon greeted, offering one of the goblets. "welcome to king's landing, i hope the travel south was not too harsh for you."

[lcstmisfits]

closed starter for annaya manderly @fateofcrvwns during the second day, after annaya's first cyvasse match

walking through the pavilion, watching the cyvasse boards as pieces moved about, aegon was always grateful for a change from the traditional tournaments that were put on. a game of strategy rather than strength and brute force. he stopped before a table that held annaya manderly and calanthe hightower, the master of laws against the ruling lady of old town. aegon stopped, his interest piqued. either outcome would say a lot about the two ladies and he was curious to see who would be victorious. in the end, annaya won the match and aegon found himself impressed. as the crowd moves on and the table is cleaned, aegon moved towards the winner. it was important to be polite and friendly with the small council members, especially at a time like this. "congratulations, my lady, that was quite the match," he said with a bow of his head. "was never the best at cyvasse so i always find it impressive when others win."

[lcstmisfits]

closed starter for calanthe hightower @soulrcts during the fourth day performances, after the king's odd speech

since a young lad, aegon always loved singers and plays, he had a soft spot for the arts and the stories they could tell. he had looked forward to the performances that were to be put on today, a small reprieve after all the tournaments from the previous two days. that is until his father stood before the crowd and made yet another horrible speech. his stomach turned as his father's words settled upon everyone, he was going to be sick, whispers flitting between the guests. could he not have one day where he could enjoy himself? was that too much to ask of the gods? aegon slouched the smallest of a centimeter in his seat, the only small allowance he would give himself as the crowned prince. as the music began, he released a small sign. perhaps with the performance, everyone would forget his father basically threatening his aunts and uncles over the whereabouts of their sister. leaning to his seat partner, he wondered if the lady hightower was thinking of the king or cared for the plays. finding a lull between two acts, aegon took it upon himself speak. as the ruling lady of a great house, it would be nice to be friendly with her, allies were important for a future king. "my lady," he greeted with a polite smile. "how are you liking the performances? are there many singers in old town? i only remember the books on my visits to the citadel, truthfully."

[lcstmisfits]

closed starter for rhaella targaryen @eatensins set on the second day during the tournaments

there were days when aegon would have entered his names in the lists, the few moments when he could be just like everyone else and to let off a little steam through the blows of lance or blade, but with everything that has been happening with his parents, he knew now was not the time to allow himself those small moments of entertainment. instead, he found himself in the targaryen viewing box, watching with only slight jealousy as the single combat lists began. pouring himself a cup of wine, he took one of the seats next his family, ready to see who might come out on top. "good morrow, sister," aegon greeted. "have you given your favor to someone? who are we rooting for today?"

[illuminvtes]

by the time ysara and aegon finally returned to their chambers, the feast had finally begun to disperse. though the hall itself was behind her, its echoes lingered throughout the red keep in the form of distant music, laughter, and the low murmur of guests unwilling to surrender the evening. by morning, every corridor would be overflowing with rumors and interpretations of the night's events. some ambitious lord was likely already recounting the king's speech to a small audience, each retelling more dramatic than the last. closing the door behind her, ysara crossed the room with a soft sigh and immediately reached for the jeweled pins woven through her hair. one by one they were removed and deposited atop a nearby table until dark waves spilled freely over her shoulders. a necklace followed, then a pair of earrings, each piece discarded with the quiet relief of someone finally shedding the weight of royal expectations. the evening had not unfolded quite as she'd intended. one moment she had been seated beside aegon enduring the third course, and the next she had found herself fighting a sudden wave of nausea so strong she'd been forced to excuse herself from the hall before she drew unwanted attention. by the time the feeling had passed and she felt capable of returning, enough time had elapsed that she knew her absence had likely been noted. still, she'd returned. appearances mattered, after all. settling into a chair near the hearth, she slipped a ring from her finger and glanced toward her husband. "i should apologize for disappearing. it was not my intention to abandon you like that. i found myself in need of air rather suddenly and thought it wiser to leave than risk creating a far more memorable scene." the ring turned slowly between her fingers. "though i suspect my absence inspired its own speculation. perhaps i should have more faith in the court and its ability to occupy itself without inventing stories." the amusement faded as her thoughts drifted back toward the feast itself. "your father's speech has certainly given them enough material to work with."

there was no criticism in her voice, only thoughtful observation. "'speak freely, but not carelessly.' i watched the entire room spend the remainder of the feast trying to determine whether they had just been reassured or warned. the stormlords looked vaguely insulted, the northerners looked furious. lord reyne appeared delighted, which concerns me far more than either." for a moment her gaze settled on the fire. "what did you make of it?" she asked quietly. "the speech, i mean. i spent so much of the evening watching everyone else's reactions that i'm not certain i've decided what i think of it myself. the arryns seemed... displeased. did they approach you or your siblings at all?" finally she looked back toward aegon again, some of the courtly composure falling away now that they were alone. @lcstmisfits

[lcstmisfits]

the moment the door closes behind them, it is like a spell is lifted from aegon, the tension already leaving his shoulders for even having just a small barrier between him and the rest of the keep. behind closed doors, he was allow to release the breath he always felt as if he was holding. he had allowed himself a polite and respectable few cup of wine that was shared with other lords and ladies, but it was never quite enough to have him fully relaxed and enjoying himself like all the others at the feast. now behind closed doors, as he watched his wife peal away her jewels, he pours himself a cup from his own personal pitcher.

"there is never a need to apologize to me, my dear," he says after taking a sip of his wine, visibly relaxing. "i am never one to question needing air at these events. there were times i would have done the same. are you feeling well now?" he asks with genuine concern.

aegon let out a small chuckle, a smile lingering on his face. "at our station, you can not even use the privy without there being ravens and scrolls sharing the development," he jests lightly. he was used to the eyes and attention but he knew ysara has only been apart of this world since their union less than a decade ago.

as the topic shifted to his father, his wine started to turn in his stomach. setting his cup down and pushing it away with his finger tips, he let out a sigh. "i am not sure what i make of it," his voice is hushed, as if he was scared to speak his own mined in the privacy of his bedchambers. "i don't think anyone was brave enough to speak to me about it but i could feel the attention." he thinks for a moment, replaying his father's odd speech in his mind. "it did seem as though he was challenging those who may speak ill of him or us; goading. does he have ears listening for careless words? i know not." his mind goes over the possibilities. perhaps people speaking of his mother and aunt, those from the vale who feel wronged by his father for what he has done to them. aegon would not blame them if that were the case.

[wispygrace]

0/4 open starter at the feast

myriame manderly was without a doubt a little tipsy. only a little tipsy in truth, she probably appeared to be more drunk than she actually was. if others mistook cheer for drunkenness, that was their failing, not hers.

but the feast was such fun. wine overflowed, deserts of all kinds crowded the table, lemon cakes, honeyed pastries all while gentle music played. it wasn’t a feast for dancing but even so it had not stopped myriame from being swept into a lord’s careless spin, nor from allowing herself to be dipped with a flourish that sent her gown sweeping wide.

wine had sloshed from her cup at precisely the wrong moment, running in a careless ribbon down the front of her gown. she had only looked down at it, startled, then burst into laughter.

when myriame drank, laughter became infectious and decorum became….. somewhat forgotten. needless to say, the road from white harbour to kings landing was well worth it. 

she walked back to her chambers, brushing her wine soaked front. myriame, for her part, walked back to her chambers with the careful dignity of a lady who was absolutely, in full command of herself. she was also very much aware that her bodice was now ruined. her poor poor dress, beautiful lyseni silk ruined for the sake of a moment's fun. she would mourn her gown in the morning.

“poor thing” she murmured, as if her gown might appreciate the sympathy, “this is entirely my fault.” 

then she turned a corner and bumped straight into the chest of someone. the impact sent a small, startled sound from her before she could recover her footing, and in the same instant her goblet, still half full, tilted in her hand.

the wine went everywhere. dark red spilled over the stranger’s front. all myriame could do was stare.

it was then she started to laugh,

“oh,” she managed between laughter, eyes bright with it, utterly unapologetic. “oh, i perhaps am a little tipsy.” the admission sounded less like confession and more like delighted discovery.

[lcstmisfits]

the welcoming festivities were well and truly swinging, the halls filled with great lords and ladies coming together for the first time in years. it should be a glorious time, to see everyone come together, but aegon had too much on his mind. his father's words echoing in his mind, the pressure of appearances, tension felt through his bones. truth be told, he had yet another fucking stomach ache. it was hard to find a moment to sneak away to the privy, people left and right stopping him to have a few words with the crown prince.

finally he was able to break away from the crowd and have a moment to himself to take care of business. he was walking through the halls to make his way back to the great hall when a body came too quickly for him to catch them, and a second later, a goblet pouring on him. his hands reach out to steady the girl, his eyes looking down as the dark red wine started to seep into his shirt. it was lucky that it almost blended in with the black and red of his festive targaryen robes. thankfully, he did not have a temper for these types of things. "that is okay, my lady," he says calmly. "perhaps you should refill that cup with water rather than more red."