#ic; rhae

[woventapestries]

@adventurers liked for a starter

"Daaaaee, why can't I pet the horses?" So petulant is the young girl's whine, the high pitch nearly startles the fine destrier she's leaning so far forward over the fence that surrounds the stables to reach, "Father would let me pet the horses."

[knightcrowned]

and three funniest muses for visenya

SMASH OR PASS

Rhae: "I think she is pretty. Smash."

Egg: "....pass."

Brynden: "Smash, evidently."

[woventapestries]

@knightcrowned sent: (Egg and Rhae) I heard you refused three proposals this season. Are you waiting for someone?

"Oh, but of course I'm waiting for you to set aside dear Betha so that we may be together, my dearest brother," Rhae only manages the jest for a few moments before bright laughter bubbles past her haughty expression. Her brother more resembles a beet than an egg when is embarrassed and if no one will let her live down the potion she badgered Shiera for then she may as well have fun with it as well. Besides, teasing Egg is nearly as fun as riling up Aemy by pronouncing one of the silly words from his massive tomes incorrectly.

She sees both of them so infrequently these days, Aemon at the citadel, Egg with his hedge knight touring the kingdom, all while Rhae is stuck in Summerhall.

"I do have a particular groom in mind, but I need to persuade father."

[knightcrowned]

@ofdragonfireandblood from [X]

Maekar pinched the bridge of his nose between a thumb and forefinger. Yet another child with far more character than he needed. Why couldn’t all of his kids be like Aemon? Or Daella? Gods. Baelor had it so much easier with his. “You’re not a prized mare, Rhae. But you need to marry.”

“But why?”

Rhae was long past the age where such questions were cute rather than annoying, but she folded her arms and glowered up at her father – of all her siblings, she was the least like him in face, favouring some distant maternal relation, and yet she had mastered his glare young.

“I see no reason for it. I am so far down the succession, no one will wed me for an alliance, and none of my brothers or cousins will wed me. Why does it matter?”

[woventapestries]

@knightcrowned sent: ❝You have no hold over me.❞ (Egg and Rhae)

“You came to me for my advice on how to soothe your lovely river bird,” if the young princess could roll her violet eyes any harder they would more than like fall right from her dainty little eye sockets. As it is, she hopes that her brother feels every inch a fool for his kneejerk response, “If I truly wanted to break up you two I wouldn’t be going to you about it. I would torment pretty Betha until she went running all the way back to Raventree Hall.”

of course, he only came to her because Daella was married and gone and who else would he ask, Shiera Seastar? He probably feared she would give him the same potion she’d given Rhae all those years ago. The princess kicks up her feet as she turns sharply away from her brother, pointedly returning to her needlework, “Perhaps you could practice groveling, you seem woefully unprepared to grovel at a woman’s feet when you’ve wronged them.”

[woventapestries]

@hammerthe sent: ❛ fear cuts deeper than swords. ❜ ( to rhae )

Father has never liked when Rhae wandered like Egg, even though he's rarely scolded for it just because he's a boy. It wouldn't be so bad except that Father is always busy with work or making sure Daery doesn't drown in a puddle of ale or Aeri isn't getting into trouble. Aemy was at least fun, he used to read her stories before Grandfather sent him off to Old Town to forge a chain. Daella had stayed behind at Summerhall with her books instead of coming to the tourney, and Daery and Egg are still a day's ride behind them.

So Rhae, to her great boredom, is trapped in the royal encampment and the tourney hasn't even started. Lady Gwin is nice at least, but she's also doing her very best to seem lady-like on account of her nameday, so she doesn't want to go look at the horses or see if any of the kitchen cats have any kittens to play with.

The men are sparring in their little practice list-field, she's sure that all the knights present must be as well in their other encampments. Cousin Valarr is donning his own armor and speaking with a squire, Aeri wears his armor but not his wicked helm, Daery's armor is in his tent, as empty as the pavilion still waiting for him to arrive.

Rhae perches on the barricade, Father would surely scold her if he saw but instead it is Uncle who spots her and simply raises a brow. The little girl grins and pats the beam beside her. Once her Uncle comes close and leans in to hear her better she relates the comings and going of the practice field at rapid pace. What knights she recognizes and the sigils of the ones she doesn't, who has the prettiest horse, and who has a favor from what lady, "And everyone is afraid to hit Aeri and Valarr, but Aeri won't spar with him."

Uncle nods wisely, the way he always does, considering her words before offering, "Fear cuts deeper than swords."

Rhae can't help but giggle in response, nearly toppling over from her perch before Uncle's large hand steadies her, "It's a practice sword, Uncle, it shouldn't cut him at all!"

[woventapestries]

@praeludio sent: ❛ do you have any idea what i'm even talking about? ❜ / maekar to rhae

“Something boring no doubt,” the princess demures as she leans up on her tip toes to press a kiss to her father’s cheek, “But if you repeat it just once more I’ll listen.”

She shan’t remember it of course, but it will make Father happy to have one attentive child besides Daella—Who doesn’t visit so much anymore now that she’s been wed to that lord of Tarth. A nice enough groom but not to Rhae’s taste, but he must have a magnificent library of Daella picked him herself so she at least hopes her sister is happy.

Rhae herself has similar prospects, a list of possible husbands to choose from that does not include any of her brothers or cousins. She’ll marry out, as all of her siblings but dear Valyrian tradition obsessed Aerion have, and she’s grateful for that. It just means she must be selective to ensure her own comfort.

“Is it Egg or Aeri who’s making that wrinkle in your brow, father?”

[woventapestries]

@nonthers sent: ❝ love, like prophecy, never asks permission. ❞ from Aemon (from @nonthers) to Rhae mayhaps..

"I don't love him, Aemy, that's not the point."

The princess says it flippantly, hair brushed over her shoulder as she glances over at Daeron's sweet little girl playing in Aegon's Garden. She is a pretty thing, all wide eyes and pink cheeks, with Daeron for a father she will have to speak with Lady Kiera about ensuring the girl makes a good match. Someone kind, and someone of age with her. Most brides don't wish for older, widower husbands like she did,

Little Ellyn is just a babe but already growing so quickly, more like a person and less like a limpet. Rhae finally supposes she''ll soon learn how her father must have felt, at least a little. At least Roger is practically grown, Reynard and Ellyn are such a handful she can't imagine keeping an eye on all three let alone her father's mighty brood of six. The babe is in her arms, she has had no taste for a single one of her wetnurse's since Rhae's arrival at Castamere months prior. Even now the adorable little brat will give a true cub's roar if separated for too long. It reminds her of Aerion, but far cuter.

Reynard is down in the yard, she's certain, learning whatever the Master-at-Arms would deign to teach him. He's not quite as demanding as his nearly toddling sister but she hopes that he has become as fond of her as she has of him. It gives her a bit more freedom to spend with Aemon, even if he's sometimes as sullen as their dear brother Daeron when he's gone too long without a drink. She misses him more than she'll admit, especially now with Daeron ill.

With his inquisitive mind and sense of honor, she can understand why he's so intent on answering the question of her strange choice of husband while still being just delightfully dense in the political wiles of women to not understand her impeccable logic. It leaves her smirking, relishing just a bit at being smarter at something than her bookish brother.

"I do suppose I love his children," and with his little lions Lord Robert was not so eager for her to pop him out little dragons.