𝕔𝕒𝕘𝕖𝕕 𝕝𝕚𝕠𝕟.

[lvcans-blog]

@cassanaxmor // ‘ you’re not who i thought you were. ’

he could hardly believe it when he saw her, he was giddy with excitement as he strolled over to cassana. it was only when he stood in front of her, in all his lannister glory that it dawned on him that she wouldn’t know him, not like this. in another life, or so it felt like, he was lucion swyft — a knight in training and nine and ten, travelling westeros before he pledged his sword to the royal family. but now he was lucan lannister, future lord of casterly rock, warden of the west and brother to the king, someone she didn’t know at all. “lady cassana...” 

[lvcans-blog]

𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕟𝕖 𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕝.

The Harvest Ball was everything she thought it would be – quite possibly more, even if she’d been told by those in attendance that it was far better in it’s home at Highgarden. They’s said things like “You simply can’t imagine it, my lady.” and “Dear Lady, this is hardly the real thing.” 

After several cups of wine an likely half a plate of some sort of black bread pudding, she’d just begun nodding her head in agreement, a little giddy again at the fact that they’d called her lady. But most of all, she began nodding, as she was scanning the crowd instead of paying attention to their words. Where is Morrec? She hadn’t seen him in quite some time. Excusing herself, she tapped the shoulder of the next person closest to her. 

“Have you by any chance seen a man in a terribly scary hound mask? I’ve gotten a little lost.”

lucan held his lion’s mask in one hand, and a lemon cake in another — he’d snuck his favourite sweet treat before they’d all disappeared — and was busy chewing on a bite of the delicacy when he felt the tap on his shoulder. he wheeled around quickly after he’d swallowed and swiped at his face for crumbs, his eyes widening at the sight of the familiar face. he stood speechless for a few long moments as his mind worked overtime to supply a name for him to greet her with, to no avail. “hound mask... a clegane? i’m afraid not...” again he stood quietly, unsure of what to say, he hadn’t seen who she was looking for but he wanted to know who she was. “apologies if this is awfully brazen of me, but do we know each other. you look terribly familiar to me.”

[lvcans-blog]

𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕪 𝕝𝕪𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕒 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕜.

She and decided very early on into her trip that she hated the South and the majority of its inhabitants. The air around the capitol held a stench of urine and shit and the people were just as bad. The amount of poverty she had witnessed while here was disgusting, clearly, the crown has more important things to do than look after their people. She was broken out of her thoughts by a voice making a statement, to which she wholeheartedly agreed with. “Sick of the fake pleasantries and almost every other thing.” A small laugh left her lips as she turned to see where the voice had come from. “Mayhaps it is just the Capitol, in general, I am sick of.” With a small shrug, she brought the glass of overly sweet wine to her lips, grimacing at the taste. Lyarra was known amongst the kitchen staff of Winterfell to have a sweet tooth, but everything about the sickly sweet cherry red liquid made her feel ill. 

“oh the pleasantries, by the gods, if i hear one more person tell me how ‘ravishingly golden’ or ‘startlingly similar to the king’ i look, i might just scream.” lucan chuckled into his wine before turning towards the source of the voice, trying to place the woman. barely anyone in the capital was familiar to him but again, most had a distinguishing feature of their house in their outfit. his was gaudy and over the top, he wore all gold, and an embellished lion mask, the lady beside him wore a direwolf ring. a lannister and a stark, it sounded like a sure way for a conflict, he only hoped that this lady didn’t adhere to the thoughts of her ancestors, because he was certainly trying not to. “mayhaps indeed, it is a tiring place to spend extended amounts of time, my lady.”

[lvcans-blog]

𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕣𝕙𝕒𝕖𝕟𝕒 𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣.

A stroll through the gardens was a daily occurrence for Rhaena, something she had done since she was but a young princess, worried about silly things like the opinion of the ladies of the court and the newest fashion. When she felt an insistent touch upon her shoulder, she looked back with wide eyes. “Lord Lucan,” she greeted politely. There was a gleam of surprise to be found in her violet eyes. Normally, she tried to stay clear of the Lannisters, it seemed as if they often returned the favour. In all honesty, she had no reason to particularly mind Lucan all that much. Had things been different perhaps they could even have been friends. They shared age, the role of being the second in line suddenly made heir, she knew what it felt like to lose a brother, even if the loss was different. Yet he was the symbol of the lions now, their head and leader. Her gaze fell on his offered arm, there was a moment of hesitation before the queen finally accepted his arm. “Indeed we have.” Not knowing what to say, she turned to the safest option. “How fares life in Casterly Rock? I understand we might expect a wedding invitation soon.” 

“please, do call me lucan. formalities among my family make me immeasurably uncomfortable.” he wasn’t about to admit that calling her family and insisting on informalities didn’t make her kin, but more as a way to garner trust and foster friendship. the queen was the mother of his nephew, the wife of his dear brother, and yet he knew nothing of her other than her targaryen origins and how she hadn’t quite accepted that the lannister name was her own now. “it is an adjustment, the last time i was in casterly rock my whole family was there and now... just me. it is a lonely life there with no one i love around.” he spoke nothing but the truth, he hoped by the time he had to return it would be with at least myrcella by his side. “sooner rather than later i hope, i wish to have my mother at the wedding, she is very dear to both lady myrcella and i. my beloved lady and i will be discussing it now i’m here but i imagine we’d like to be wed here in the capital.” lucan schooled his features to look as lovesick as his rumours painted him to be, before morphing into a soft, fond smile. “how fares my nephew? it pains me that i haven’t yet had an opportunity to meet him, i’ve been told he is a most wonderful babe.”

[lvcans-blog]

𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕪 𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒 𝕕𝕒𝕝𝕥.

The slow, unwelcomed claps made a rush of blood run to Ashara’s face. It was embarrassing enough to fail when no one was watching. It was worse to be mocked. The voice calling her by name took her by surprise. It didn’t sound like anyone she’d already met in the Capitol, but it was familiar. She couldn’t place it until she looked up and saw the unmistakable blonde of Lucan Lannister.  “Lucan!” She squealed and ran to him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. He was of the few people that Ashara considered a good friend. Lucan had come to Dorne several times on his travels and when he wasn’t there, he was sure to write when he could. It had been too long since the last time she’d seen him, though. “I’ve missed you so much!” She sighed. Ashara wrapped her hand around the bow again. “Do you really think I could ever shoot a person with this? I’m just trying to hit the target. M’not very good though.”

he loosened his grip on the bow and pulled ashara in closer, his hands drifting to her back as he returned her embrace. there were few he counted as a close friend, during his travels he’d acquired a few of them, and he felt lucky enough to consider ash one. “i’ve missed you too, i wasn’t sure if my last letter found it’s way to you, and when myrcella told me you were here i came looking.” lucan pulled away to look at her, it’d been more than a few moon turns since he’d seen her last and he could tell the changes in her face the second he observed her. “of course i think you could shoot someone with it, i’d expect you to even. you never know when you need the ability. how long are you in the capital, perhaps i shall endeavour to have you being the best archer in lemonwood before you go home.”

[lvcans-blog]

𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕪 𝕥𝕪𝕒 𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣.

“ ‘A lion does not concern himself with the opinion of sheep.’ Or so said one of out most clever ancestors. I’m inclined to heed his words. No one is going to speak well of us no matter what in this place, we may as well do as we like.” Tya retorted in a quiet voice, certain not to let those near hear her words. She took his hand gladly and allowed him to lead her to the floor. Tya’s dancing was polished, proper, and perfectly in time with the music. She lacked some of the natural grace and flare that some had, but most would call her a splendid dancer all the same. “You’ve missed so much, sweet Lucan. I don’t know where to start. I suppose I should warn you that the Targaryens aren’t please with how many of us are in the Capitol at the moment. They’re eager to turn the tides against us, and the Dothraki being here, hurting the Queen has swayed some in their favor.”

“of course no one is going to speak well of us, no one spoke well of the lannisters before we made our play for the throne and now that a lion sits atop it, it’s only gotten worse.” he scoffed quietly, “it’s more for the sake of myrcella’s image than my own, didn’t you know i rode here to profess my love for her? i must be seen as a man grown rather than a boyish lord, i will not be the second lannister to tarnish her name.” lucan had always been an accomplished dancer, it helped him when he was training with a sword, others lacked fluidity and speed and relied on a mass of muscles while he easily bested them, it translated well onto the dance floor. “i suppose i should have sought you out earlier, i imagine i’ll require a full report of what i’ve missed. the targaryen’s are now outnumbered and as usual, feel threatened. they’re forever claiming a strong dynasty, but how strong can it be when this is the second time they’ve been usurped? their strength comes from their precious dragons and the dragons are dead and gone, again.”

[lvcans-blog]

𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕪 𝕞𝕪𝕣𝕔𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕒 𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕘𝕒𝕟𝕖.

         ‘ i wish that i could be better to you, ‘ she admitted, sadness clear in her voice. ‘ i wish i could let go of the past, and focus on our future. i am trying ; i will keep trying, until one day it is the truth. ‘ she could not undo what had been done, but that did not mean she was not trying to forget, to put it behind her, where it belonged. whether it were possible she did not know, but she would not give up so easily. yet myrcella shook her head. he might mean everything he said ; his brother had, when he’d said it, but that had not changed their fate. ‘ you are not the first to tell me that, ‘ she said, hating that she could not simply accept his promise. she wanted it to be true ; it was dangerous, the hope that kindled in her chest at his words. the picture of their life he painted was one she’d dreamed of, ruling casterly rock beside a good man, raising beautiful golden-haired little lions. she’d feared he would not want that, a marriage and a family with her ; to know he felt otherwise was a small relief. he was not the one she’d pictured beside her, but she wanted that life all the same. arryk was gone, their love broken apart, with no chance of it ever being rebuilt. was it wrong, for her to try and find what pieces of her happiness she could with his brother? to take what was left of her dreams and try to make them reality, to live the life she’d been promised as best as she could? it seemed the only thing she could do. mourning a love that was gone forever would only prolong her suffering. she had to find a way to move on. ‘ it does not matter, what i imagined, ‘ she told him, hoping he could hear the sincerity in her words. ‘ you are the one who will be there, and that is what matters, in the end. ‘ yet she knew better than to hope too hard. it would be too easy, for this fragile picture of their life to fall apart. 

“am i to believe you are not good to me already? you have been nothing but good to me myrcella. i will not be able to take my place at the rock without you by my side, my household would fall apart without you. you are immensely good to me, you could have broken off the betrothal but you stayed and for that, i cannot express the depth of my gratitude.” he could see how broken she was, how she sat there unable to accept his promises because of ones that had gone unfulfilled in the past. “i will be there. i’ll be there for you, for our children. you don’t have to believe it now, i’ll prove it later.” lucan stood, extending his hand for her to take, he couldn’t stand to be cooped up in his room for any longer, and it would do them well for the court to see them together. “how about a turn around the garden and then some food? if there’s time before supper we should go and see mama too.”

[lulkeskywalker]

[tyathelion]

[ @arrryk​ @lvcans​ @xlovelyladylannister​ ]

[lvcans-blog]

after being up for 15+ hrs and having a few drinks, when i got home at 3am this morning, somehow i thought it was a good idea to give lucan a new theme? basically after doing this and working out which threads i owe ( which y’all can totally check out here and then click the navigate tab ( laptop only :(( ))

i came to the realisation that lucans plot ratio of female to male is horrendous. so like,, if u have a male character, hit the like and i will hit u up for them plots okay? thank u for coming to my ted talk  

ps if u have females still like this post bc i want them plots too... i want all the plots THANKS

[myrcellabrtheons]

✏ = teaching them a different language

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse 

    ’ i cannot do it! ‘ myrcella said, smiling as she shook her head. ‘ you are far clever than i, it seems - my tongue does not seem to want to move in the right way. ‘ it was near impossible, the language of the braavosi ; how he’d ever managed to survive there was a mystery. but then, lucan was witty - the blood of lann the clever indeed, he’d always been good at getting what he wanted, even when it seemed impossible. he’d made her laugh many times with his antics ; despite everything, she found herself glad to see him again. 

      ‘ say it again, ‘ myrcella commanded, determined not to let him best her. she felt half a child again, competing against him in their studies, always trying to outdo the older boy. she’d been clever too, better even than him at some things despite his advanced age - perhaps because she spent more time indoors with books, while he was occupied by learning to fight with swords and bows and arrows. ‘ i am sure i will get it this time. ‘

[myrcellabrtheons]

回 = patching a wound

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse 

     myrcella gasped at the sight of it, the sharp gash in his forehead. it was bleeding steadily, not particularly large or deep, yet still the blood shocked her. ‘ what have you done? ‘ she asked, kneeling by his side. her voice was filled with worry ; their circumstances were complicated, yes, but that did not lessen how much she cared for lucan. seeing him hurt was an awful thing. ‘ i should call a maester…, ‘ she said, biting her lip as he shook his head as she’d expected. men and their pride… ‘ fine. but do not think i will let you move from there until i have at least stopped the bleeding. ‘ 

     the little of healing she’d learned from her septa was not particularly comprehensive, but it was enough to patch him up, or so she hoped. if not, she would call a maester, his pride be damned. she stood, finding herself water and cloth and a needle and thread. ‘ i have no milk of the poppy, ‘ myrcella added, but passed him wine, hoping it would be enough to numb his pain. her hands shook as she did, unsteady ; she had never done this before, had only ever tended to minor scrapes and bruises of arryk’s, most of those easily healed with a kiss. she doubted that would be sufficient here. 

     slowly she wiped the worst of the blood and dirt away ; cleaned, it almost did not look so bad. but it still seeped fresh blood, and she knew the wound needed to be closed.  ‘ please, lucan, do not move, ‘ she halfway begged, hoping he’d be able to remain still. her stitching was fine on fabric, but fabric did not move or bleed, did not complain when poked at too hard. shaking, she made the first stitch, stomach heaving at the sight of her needle piercing his flesh. but she would not falter, not when he was hurt ; difficult though it might be, myrcella would do all she could to see him safe.

[lvcans-blog]

𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕪 𝕞𝕪𝕣𝕔𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕒 𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕘𝕒𝕟𝕖.

    he’d always been clever, though she supposed to those who did not know him as well as she, it would be easy to miss the wit and see only the wildness. ‘ they will learn their lesson, i’m sure, ‘ she said with confidence. people would come to see him differently in time, if that was what he wanted. he was more than capable of being the lord he needed to be. her face screwed up at the mention of how alike arryk he was becoming. yes, his hair was longer than it once had been, and he’d matured a little ; he and arryk had always looked alike, but no. myrcella shook her head. ‘ no, that is not what i want, ‘ she said, the thought disgusting her. lucan was not his brother, and she could not pretend otherwise - nor did she want to. ‘ i do not…want to pretend that with you. it would be unfair, to both of us. ‘ they both deserved better than that. myrcella did not want to spend the rest of her life pretending he was someone else, comparing him to the older brother she’d loved and lost. as difficult as it was, she wanted their life to be more than that, for them to somehow find happiness despite it all. ‘ promises…they are just words, ‘ she added, soft and sad. promises could be broken, they meant nothing, really. ‘ but i would promise to be the best wife i can to you, in return. for whatever that is worth. ‘ 

a weight he didn’t know that was sitting on his shoulders lifted with her obvious distaste about pretending he was arryk. the thought of his bride-to-be looking at him with affection meant for another hurt him in a way he would never be able to explain, a part of him from boyhood that wished for a love out of the songs. he’d thought that part of him long gone. “if that is what you wish, and perhaps in time you will not wish that things were different.” he gave her a sad smile, for all that he was reckless and adventurous his mother always told him he had a soft heart, and right now all he could think of was how his brother had hurt the lady he loved and now it was lucan that had to reform her broken pieces. “words are wind, of course. but please do not think me like arryk when i promise you these things. i know you will make a brilliant wife, there is no one i could think of that would help me rule the rock better, be a better mother to our babes. you were born for this role, i am only sorry i am not the man you imagined by your side.”

[lvcans-blog]

👌

lucan felt like the room was spinning, it was the kind of drunkenness he used to experience when he first drank, his stomach flipped, vision blurred. it was enough for the words to come tumbling from his mouth, a barrage of resentment, bitterness and plain anger, all laid out for his brother to see. “you know, i used to covet the rock, used to imagine something would happen to you and then it’d be mine. i used to covet the throne, for who wouldn’t want to be a mighty king of westeros, famed and revered, loved and cherished by the thousands. i used to have an affection for myrcella beyond what i was allowed, beyond what i would ever receive back.” 

he scoffed, tossed his head back and almost threw himself out of his seat. “but i don’t want it, i don’t want any of it. i don’t want to be the lord of casterly rock, i pale in comparison to you. i couldn’t bear to be king because i crave affection and so many houses look at you with scorn because of faults of long-gone ancestors. i will never have myrcella’s love, even if i have myrcella.” he tried to point a glare at his brother, but he knew he failed miserably. “you ruined my life brother. i love you, i would die for you, my sword is yours, my castle is yours, my bannermen, my gold, my adoration. all of it yours. but not my forgiveness. i will never forgive you and father for trapping me in this life. never.” 

and when the morning dawned, lucan found himself in his chambers, in bed. tears dried upon his cheeks and his heart hurting, but he couldn’t place why.

[ @arrryk ]

[lvcans-blog]

𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕪 𝕞𝕪𝕣𝕔𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕒 𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕘𝕒𝕟𝕖.

    he was right, of course ; rumours could bring them all down, and she couldn’t let it happen. the lannisters had been so good to her - or at least, the most of them had, the ones who were still living. she wouldn’t allow their family to suffer for her foolishness. ‘ we will put a stop to them, then, ‘ myrcella said decisively, knowing that she could make no other choice. ‘ your wits are plain enough, for those who are paying attention, ‘ she continued with a shrug. he played the part of reckless boy well enough, but she knew it was not all he was. he could be many things, but he’d never let harm come to his family. ‘ perhaps that is for the best. it would be easy enough to put the rumours to bed. you and i at the ball, golden and happy… and then begin planning our wedding, sooner rather than later. ‘ she’d known they would wed in theory for long enough that the idea should have been simple enough, but the thought still made her nervous. a marriage made to quite rumours and fix mistakes was not what she’d imagined for herself. ‘ who would care for rumours of a love affair when we are right there, clearly happy with one another? ‘ she was not sure how she’d manage to maintain the act, but she would do it, somehow. 

"that's the benefit of most of the court thinking me a reckless, wild boy lord who is itching to break from his chains. they don't pay attention, despite all of them knowing how unwise it is to underestimate a lion." it was true, the statement he made, to a degree. he was itching to leave, he was struggling with the heavy weight placed upon his shoulders, but he could bear it and he would. everyone will doubt him, and he will show them all. "i've been told many times today, and every day since i’ve returned to westeros, how much i am beginning to resemble arryk, if it pleases you to look at me and see my brother to fully trick people into thinking we are desperately in love, then i will not hold it against you myrcella." lucan reached a hand out to squeeze one of her own tightly, reassuringly. "in all of this, you have been hurt the most, when we marry i promise that i will endeavour to make sure that going forward no hurt comes to you. i do not expect any vows from you, but that is mine. you are my family."

[tyathelion]

( ♛ truth serum ) : how do you feel about lucan becoming lord lannister?

“Lucan will bring a different air to the Court of Casterly Rock. He is so full of life, so adventurous, so open to the possibilities for change. I am, in many ways, a traditionalist, but I’m not a fool. Even I can recognize that people with minds like my baby cousin’s are the ones that push us toward progression. I do not think he is quite ready to take on the mantle. He does need to grow up a bit. He needs to mature, but when he does, he will be a memorable ruler. Of that I am sure.”

[ @lvcans ]

[sigils0ngs]

( ♛ truth serum ) : if you could trade places with your brother, would you?

      “ if my son had not yet drawn breath, i would. ”  /  @lvcans

[lvcans-blog]

𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕪 𝕞𝕪𝕣𝕔𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕒 𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕘𝕒𝕟𝕖.

   she was surprised to hear that he’d made the journey with such haste, until he mentioned rumours. ‘ you know that is not true, ‘ myrcella said instantly, shaking her head. she’d come to the capital for the celebrations, and wished ever since she had not. ‘ arryk - i have hardly seen him since i arrived, and i am certain it is better that way. ‘ she hoped he did not believe the rumours, that he knew better of her - but the fear that he might only made her feel full of guilt and fear. ‘ oh, has your mother not told you? ‘ myrcella continued, surprised but glad for the change of subject. ‘ gold, of course - even you cannot imagine the extravagance. ‘ she was not certain she was prepared for it, but she understood the necessity. having him here only made it more certain ; by his side she would look the perfect lannister bride-to-be. 

a single eyebrow raised over the rim of his goblet as he emptied the contents into his mouth greedily, “yes, but rumours still create chatter and we already have enough chatter.” lucan stood again, abruptly, to pour more wine and as he stood over to his desk he let out a chuckle. "let no one ever say that i am less of a lannister because my wits aren't plain to see, dear 'cella. i have all of casterly rock believing i rode so hard to express my true love and devotion to you. to shower you in gifts of lannister gold and to beg arryk to let us marry with haste! for i will surely die if you are not lady lannister within a moons turn!" he turned to face her again, a smirk adorning his pink lips and mischief and glee glittering in his blue eyes. "mama and i had much to catch up on, little time to talk of finery. but i'm pleased to hear you'll be bedecked in all the best. i heard my goodsister is planning on wearing gold too, try not to drain the coffers when you upstage her."