#bratheon

[lilacvows]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑴 𝑾𝑶𝑼𝑳𝑫 𝑹𝑨𝑮𝑬 𝑶𝑵. The rain pelted against the stain glass as Lenora Baratheon entered her brother's study with a curious glance. When she found Lyonel, she wasted no time in speaking with him.

❝ Brother. When do you leave for Ashford? I would like to accompany you to watch the tourney. ❞ she informed him before canting her head to the side, her storm blue hues fixating on his. 

❝ You do have room for me, yes? ❞ 

@bratheon ⤷ A starter for Lyonel.

[westerosxwhispers]

@bratheon || Closed Starter

"Shall we do our best to not make a habit of beating down nobles?" Egg had advised. "Please, ser."

The one thing that had kept Duncan from pointing out that the first time such a thing happened was the boy's very own fault was that, after punching one of Lord Baratheon's brothers square in the jaw, the babe had not ceased crying and had only just —moments prior to Egg saying that— finally soothed himself— or more like exhausted himself, and ceased his wailing in favor of falling asleep with his head on Duncan's shoulder. The knight's hand covering most of the babe's back.

He had liked the Baratheon well enough up until today. The man was loud and friendly just like Lyonel, he boasted of tourneys won, of battles fought and of far away islands visited. Sometimes he mentioned that Lyonel had spoken of the 'giant of a hedge knight' that was Duncan once or twice, but didn't say much. When he wasn't talking, he was drinking, and when he was doing neither of those things, he was spending his time with a specific waitress of the inn they were all staying in because Egg begged to not spend another night out in the cold and the report of raiders nearby had been what convinced Duncan to budge.

"She is my woman, sired a son on her that she birthed last spring. She expects so little of me, it's almost sweet how she blushes and tends to me after I bring her some coin for the boy and an extra silver or two for herself," the man would brag. Not his wife, just his woman. Though Duncan figured that was better than calling her his wench or worse, his whore. Duncan would have certainly punched him much sooner if that had been the case.

Duncan wasn't sure how everything changed so quickly. One night the woman retired to bed early because she was not feeling well, the next morning she was not able to get out of bed, by the evening she was gone. Burst belly, they called it. But she had not bled, had no wounds to justify the agonizing pain she died in. She just agonized and died, leaving a boy behind.

Come dawn, the Baratheon was saddling his horse to leave. Childless.

It was none of Duncan's business. But Dunk? Dunk had a problem of turning things that weren't his to be concerned about into his main concern. And that boy was left motherless, with a father who was trying to flee. So he tried to intervene, kindly, carefully, meekly. Duncan spoke of what was best for the child and was told that he could keep the bastard for all Baratheon cared. Dunk punched said Baratheon so hard it knocked him on his ass and spooked his horse.

Egg had to make use of that ring he carried in his boot to keep him from ending up in a cell. The innkeeper handed the babe to Duncan without question. Nobody could tell him what his name was, or how old he was, though based on what Baratheon had said, the boy had to be close to his name day or have had it not that long ago.

Orys, Egg wanted to call him. He explained that it was the name of the first Baratheon lord, a bastard half brother of Aegon the Conqueror, the first Targaryen king. Duncan doubted Lyonel would like that. Egg insisted the boy needed a noble name if he would go from bastard to noble. Duncan thought of Raymun, but that didn't feel like it would fit with the last name. And so they settled for Ormund.

Ormund Baratheon did have a ring to it. And if he didn't like it, the boy was too young to voice it.

The stormlands stayed true to their name when they arrived. The cold shower falling over them feeling like icy needles pricking the back of his neck and his face. Duncan did his best to shield Egg under his cloak, who in turn held Ormund and did his best to shield him. By the time they were allowed into the hall, they were soaked to the bone and shivering, and could barely marvel at the sight of the oh-so-distinctively Baratheon decorations from how heavy the water made them feel. As it Duncan wasn't heavy enough already.

The steward told them that he would announce their arrival to Lose Baratheon, but that it was late and he doubted the lord could make time to see them.

Duncan had a feeling he was wrong, but not for any good reason. Considering how his last one-sided conversation with the man went, it was probably for the best for Egg to be the one holding the baby, just in case Lyonel swung at Dunk without looking first.

[knightcrowned]

"There's no trust, no faith, no honesty in men." @ baelor

"Have you such a low opinion of everyone you meet, lord Lyonel?"

Baelor chuckled lowly. It was a pity Baratheon was in such a bitter mood; he made good company amid the dull crowd of the tourney. Baelor twirled the stem of his wine goblet in his fingers.

"Drink a little more. Wine brings surprising honesty to men's tongues."

[stormsdeer]

@bratheon liked for a starter.

" you promised me. " she was but half present as those words were uttered, her mind instead travelling all the way back into the past. there stood a young girl, crying her eyes out, unable to understand why her father must leave her and why none could tell her when he would return.

it had instilled a fear, all that had happened back then. it was a rude awakening for a child of but near 8 summers old to learn that there was but one person to depend on in the whole of storm's end. and he had set off to war. floris had never forgotten this harsh lesson ever since: without her father, her life would be handed over to family who cared nothing for the heir's only child. it would be forfeited, controlled and discarded by those who only saw an obstacle when gazing at her.

why? why must he do this when knowing what would happen should this trial end in death?

he had promised her. her father had promised he'd always protect her. and in the act of agreeing to participate in the trial, it felt as if he were halfway breaking it. she felt for the hedge knight's plight, truly she did, but must it be her father? could no other do it? floris knew the answer. no, for no other would take up arms to join ser duncan. it was the right thing, the decent thing to do as a knight. this did not make it any more bearable.

" you promised me back then you'd not leave me. why must you insist on this? you know how the last trial of the seven ended, father!! must i sit there come dawn and wonder if this will be the last day i will ever have with you? "

[misvos]

❛ My part is here, whether I will or no. It was decided for me long ago. ❜

@bratheon

“I’ll not deny you, Lord Baratheon,” Valarr says with words seeped in respect and admiration for the other man. “And I won’t send you away. Regardless of your dedication here, which I never doubt, our family have been tied together since the conquest and I hope that they’ll always work together. Baratheon and Targaryen are linked and tied together and I have no doubt that will continue. Do you think it was decided with Orys and Aegon and now we see shadows of that dedication and love?”

[knightcrowned]

❛ they miss the battlefield. i think we do too. ❜ @ baelor

“Once a man has tasted battle, he spends the rest of his life longing for another.” Peace, Baelor had always proclaimed to fight for, and he could never admit the treacherous thought of longing to fight against another rebellion. But if some heir of Blackfyre mustered a force now, and brought it before him, Baelor thought he would fight just as fiercely at nearly forty as he had at six-and-twenty.

“I cannot say I am any different.”

[sunsetelm]

❝  sometimes i feel i’m being crushed under the weight of everything i’ll never be.  ❞

@bratheon, it's all about the yearning.

Cheeks dusted with the pink of good wine, Dunk looks at Lyonel with a light furrow of his brows. It feels, almost, like he'd misheard him-- only moments earlier the lord had been laughing and grinning, after all-- but the swim of his head isn't bad enough to make him believe he'd imagine anything. Especially with the way Lyonel looks at him now.

Dunk swallows. "Ser?"

His bottom lip is dry when he swipes his tongue over it. Despite the noise surrounding them (it's a feast, after all, and Dunk is lucky to have been invited; Egg called him a fool for thinking Lyonel could truly hate him for not swearing to be his bannerman, and Dunk can only agree now), he cares more about Lyonel than anything that could be happening in Storm's End's Great Hall. He doesn't think about reputation, nor gossip, nor the possibility of being seen, and his hand drops between them to rest firmly on Lyonel's thigh.

The act, when viewed alone, is inappropriate. Dunk's touch is more concerned than charged, though, and he frowns as he leans in to scrutinise Lyonel's expression properly. Even with his face halfway to flushed, Dunk's concern is clear-- he cares little for propriety when it seems one of his most cherished friends has disappeared on him.

"Lyonel." His tone has gone firm, too, in some attempt to pull Lyonel's head from wherever it might have floated. "Oi. Where've you gone?"

[daedreamingdragon]

lyonel would like to recommend himself as a romantic candidate ty

Recommend romantic candidates for my muse and see their reaction!

@bratheon

There are many days where Daeron finds himself disbelieving that he has won the attention and affection of the Laughing Storm in such a way. Even if it must be kept secret and in the shadows, Daeron cannot help seeing the passing looks at court, or the subtle hints to draw him in to a moment of privacy, and treasuring every golden gift laid at his feet in silent and anonymous devotion.

And when they can be alone and be themselves, those are the sweetest moments for Daeron. Lyonel's excitement and passion for all things that bring laughter and merriment remind Daeron that life is for living and not merely surviving.

Does Lyonel give him a purpose to live? He doesn't really know, but he knows he will do whatever he must to stay at the Storm Lord's side, family and duty be damned.