Dawn had barely broken over the Kingswood when the horns first sounded.
Mist clung low to the forest floor, silvering the undergrowth as nobles gathered in riding leathers and hunting cloaks, their breath visible in the chill of the early morning. It was the ninth morning of festivities, and with it came the first grand Royal Hunt: an event that drew an impressive crowd. Lords and ladies alike took to horseback, accompanied by hounds, trackers, and retainers, eager for sport. The woods promised no shortage of quarry—red deer, stags, bucks, rabbits, hares, even wolves—but all knew there was only one true prize.
The White Hart.
Sighted only a week prior, the creature had a near-mythical status. Pale as bone and swift as shadow, it was whispered to be no ordinary stag, but something older—something chosen. To bring it down would not simply mark a hunter’s skill, but their fortune… perhaps even their destiny.
The hunt began with order.
It did not remain so.
The first mishap came quietly.
Somewhere deeper in the wood, where the ground grew uneven and treacherous, a hidden pit lay concealed beneath branches and leaves—a trap set long ago for beasts. Neither Lucion Reyne nor Nyessara of Pentos saw it in time.
The ground gave way beneath them and they fell hard.
The drop was deep enough to steal breath and sense alike, the impact sending pain sharply through bone. The Queen’s ankle sprained hard, her cry of pain echoing faintly upward, while Lucion, landing poorly, felt the unmistakable fracture in his foot the moment he tried to stand. Trapped at the base of the pit, the walls too steep to climb, they could do little but call out and wait, voices growing hoarse as time stretched on.
It was not until much later that help came.
Marissa Qoherys was the first to hear them, pausing mid-step before breaking toward the sound. Not far behind were Erol Stark and Alester Royce, drawn in by the urgency of the cries. Together, they found the pit and those within it.
Elsewhere, the forest proved just as disorienting.
Victaria Hightower and Gyles Tyrell had each strayed too far from their parties, the winding paths of the Kingswood twisting back upon themselves until direction became guesswork. Their meeting was by chance, two figures emerging from opposite ends of the trees, both equally misplaced, both equally reluctant to admit it at first.
What followed was an alliance, necessity outweighing pride as they worked together to find their way back.
When the White Hart was spotted at last by both Daeynara Targaryen and Esra Stark, the creature was startled before any clean shot could be taken. Arrows loosed too hastily by both women, struck bark and brush instead, and the great stag—magnificent and silvery-pale—bolted in sudden, frenzied panic. It tore through the forest with terrifying speed, crashing through undergrowth, heedless of anything in its path.
And directly into the path of Argella Baratheon.
She had dismounted moments before as the grass had grown too dense to ride properly and soon unfortunately had her foot caught fast in a rabbit hole. She was struggling to free herself when the sound reached her : the thunder of hooves, the breaking of branches, something coming far too fast. By the time she turned, it was already upon her.
There would have been no time to move. No time to escape.
Only the certainty of impact—
Until an arrow flew.
Clean. Precise. Unerring.
It struck true, sinking deep into the lower half of the White Hart’s body. The creature staggered mid-charge, its momentum faltering just enough for salvation to come to the Ruling Lady of Storm’s End.
Aenyx Targaryen lowered his bow as the white stag collapsed, his dragonglass-tipped arrow having found its mark.
Silence followed.
The White Hart lay still.
At the same time, deeper within the shadowed paths of the Kingswood, the most harrowing moment of the hunt unfolded.Daemon Targaryen had ridden ahead of the others, wholly absorbed in the thrill of the chase, his focus fixed on the trail before him. The young prince did not notice the figure moving through the trees behind him—silent and deliberate. Cloaked and hooded, the stranger kept their distance, bow already in hand.
Not far off, Danelle Tully had dismounted, drawn briefly from the hunt by a rare flowering bush, its petals pale and delicate against the forest floor. It was there, crouched low, that she saw it: the flicker of movement, the unnatural stillness of someone watching rather than hunting. Her gaze followed the line of the drawn bow.
Toward the prince.
There was no time to think.
Only to act.
She sprang forward, shouting; a sharp, desperate warning as she threw herself toward him. The force of her push sent Daemon off balance just as the arrow was loosened.
It struck her instead.
The impact drove the breath from her, a cry tearing from Danelle’s lips as she staggered, clutching at her side. For a moment, it seemed as though she might yet remain standing…but then her body betrayed her. Her limbs trembled, then seized, her breath hitching into something shallow and wrong. A sickly pallor spread across her skin, her lips tinged faintly blue as she began to convulse, the telltale signs unmistakable.
Poison.
“HELP!” Daemon’s voice broke through the trees, raw and urgent as he caught her before she could collapse fully, lifting her into his arms. “HELP!”
Panic shattered the quiet of the forest. Birds took flight overhead as his cries echoed outward, desperate and unrelenting. Somewhere in the distance, riders turned, voices rising in alarm, but for those few, terrible moments, it was only the prince, the dying Ruling Lady of the Riverlands in his arms—
When & Where: Dornish showcase on the evening of the 8th Day a couple of hours after the semi-final jousting.
The Cultural Pavilion had been transformed.
Silks in hues of burnt orange, deep red, and sun-gold draped from high beams, stirring gently in the warm afternoon air. The scent of Dornish wine and citrus hung sweetly over the gathered crowd, mingling with the low hum of music; lutes, hand drums, and the soft chime of bells. It was Dorne brought to life within the heart of the Red Keep—vivid, sensual, and unapologetically itself. And the evening seemed to unravel flawlessly with each Dornish performance.
Princess Arianne Martell took to the center of the pavilion like a flame given form. Silks trailed from her wrists, catching the light as she moved, slow at first, then fluid before becoming utterly mesmerizing. Each step was deliberate, each turn utterly hypnotic, her flexible body weaving a story older than the Conquest itself. The crowd fell silent, drawn in completely, as if the very air had stilled to watch her. When she finished, the loud applause was warm, reverent and highly approving by every single individual there.
All eyes turned then to her younger sister.
Eleana.
Where Arianne had been picture-perfect grace and embodying the loveliest pure light of the moon, expectation for Eleana was of a more bolder beauty, perhaps something dazzling but nevertheless, something equally worthy of praise and most importantly: polished.
What they received instead…was fire.
She stepped forward clad in lighter silks, her expression set with something sharper, something daring. In her hands were two staffs, their ends wrapped and already lit, flames flickering bright against the dimmed pavilion light.
A ripple of surprise moved through the crowd. Then the drums began, getting louder and faster with each passing second. Eleana moved.
The staffs spun in arcs of fire, carving circles of light around her body as she twisted and turned with startling precision. Flame followed her every motion, bending and dancing as if in answer to her will. It was both dangerous and exhilarating. A performance that demanded not quiet admiration, but breathless attention. The crowd was completely captivated.
Eleana pressed further. Faster spins, tighter turns, the fire whipping dangerously close to silk and skin alike—
—and for a moment, it was perfect.
Until it wasn’t.
In the final flourish, as she spun both staffs in a crossing arc, her grip faltered just slightly. But that was enough to be a dangerous mistake. One staff slipped free. Time seemed to stutter as it left her hand, spinning end over end….and struck the edge of a richly embroidered Targaryen banner hung along one of the pavilion pillars.
Flame caught instantly and quickly. Sharp yells and screams tore through the crowd as the fire climbed the fabric, bright and sudden. In the confusion, shock and alarm, nobles started to move in a dozen directions. In the sudden chaos, one noble lost their footing and fell hard against the ground, another collided blindly into one of the wooden supports with a dull crack, while a third, too slow to move, yelped as the edge of their sleeve caught a brief lick of flame, singeing the fine cloth.
Servants rushed forward, beating at the fire with cloths, others hauling buckets of water as the blaze flared, then sputtered before finally dying beneath frantic effort.
Smoke lingered in the air. The music had long since stopped.
And where moments before there had been awe, there was now something else entirely.
Silence that was both uneasy and tense.
Eyes shifted not just toward Eleana, who stood frozen where the staff had left her hand, but toward Dorne itself. Was the whole of Dorne just as impulsive, bold, defiant and dangerous as its princess?
The fire had been small and able to be quickly contained.
But the scene itself lingered far longer than the flames themselves. In the hush that followed and the tight, careful smiles that replaced earlier warmth. Conversations resumed, but softer now, edged with unease. Glances were exchanged, subtle but telling, and more than a few began to wonder—quietly and cautiously as to whether this alliance with Dorne was as wise as it had once seemed.
Location: King's Landing, on the last week of the 5th month of 20 AC, Event 02, Chapter 2
The bells of King’s Landing rang clear beneath a cloudless sky as the great gates of the newly constructed Red Keep stood open in deliberate welcome. Banners of crimson and black stirred in the sea breeze, and the Grand Hall had been transformed into a vision of royal splendor. Long tables draped in silk, long windows crowned with garlands, and braziers burning low in the midday light. Lords and ladies from across the realm were ushered within while musicians played bright, lilting melodies as if to soften the late summer heat.
When all had finally gathered, the King rose from his place upon the Iron Throne. Sunlight caught in the dark metal of the crown upon his brow as he surveyed the assembled nobility. His voice carried easily across the vast hall.
“Lords, ladies, lieges of the realm, as well as our esteemed Dornish allies. You honor us with your presence. Today we gather not merely to celebrate the completion of our majestic Red Keep, but to mark a new chapter in the life of this kingdom. These walls, raised from stone and sacrifice, stand as testament to our shared future. Let this day be one of fellowship, of renewed and new bonds, and of prosperity yet to come. To further share the joy of alliances and peaceful unity birthed through marriage, I would like to also announce the following betrothals that have come to my recent attention. Lord Vaelor Celtigar is to be wed to my beautiful step-niece Lady Alyssia Lannister whilst Lady Rhaena Velaryon will be tying a union with tba. Lady Alyssia’s cousin, Lady Eliana, seems to be not to far behind on becoming a bride soon as well, for she is now betrothed to Lord Edwin Stark. Please raise your glasses in a congratulatory toast to these new betrotheds as well as to the double royal betrothal between House Targaryen and House Martell!”
With a measured gesture, he then invited the realm to sit and dine as one. Servants moved swiftly, bearing platters of roasted meats glazed in honey and spice, fresh river trout, citrus-dressed greens, Dornish dates, Arbor vintages, and sweet cream pastries dusted with sugar. Laughter rose hesitantly at first — then warmer and fuller, as cups were lifted in salute. Above them all, the Red Keep loomed proud and newly finished, its red stone gleaming in the sun as if the fortress itself listened to the promises made within its shadow.
Below are the official activities open to attending characters during the second event:
1. The Illumination of Aegon’s Hill
Between dusk to twilight on the first day, a massive torch-lighting ceremony is conducted.
Braziers line the path from the main gates up toward the Keep. The heads of each noble house take turns to light up a brazier as a symbolic oath of fealty towards the Iron Throne.
The walk becomes a corridor of fire.
A huge brazier is placed right at the center of the Main Gate and everyone watches as the four royal betrotheds light up the brazier together in a symbolism of their unity.
Once the sun has fully set, a spectacular firework display is showcased, illuminating the new Royal Residence in all its glory.
2. Cultural Exchange Pavilion
The outer courtyard is draped in silks and banners from each kingdom.
A large and temporary wooden pavilion is erected in the center of the courtyard. Each evening showcases a performance from different regions such as Dornish dancers with flowing silks and rhythmic percussion, Reach harpists and courtly ballads, Stormlands battle-chant choir, dramatic Northern story-telling, Westerland plays. Wooden benches are strategically arranged for nobles to enjoy the shows.
Performances are not limited to be performed by staff only as talented nobles can join or do a solo performance as well.
This will last throughout the whole event as each region takes one evening.
3. The Royal Hunt
In the very early morning of the 9th day, the first grand Royal Hunt is set to occur in the Kingswood.
Every interested noble are invited to participate regardless of their gender.
Animals that are available to be hunted in the Kingswood are varied. Examples are red deers, stags, bucks, rabbits, hares, wolves.
However the main target of the event is a White Hart which was sighted a week ago. White harts are known be a very, suspected magical form of stags that are considered the “King of the Kingswood”. Truly a prestigious and symbolic prize for the best hunter of them all.
4. The Unveiling of the Hall of Histories
A newly commissioned gallery inside the Keep is now open for public viewing on the second day onwards. Before the official opening however, the king would assemble all nobles in the Royal Sept for a long, solemn prayer early in the morning, honoring the kings who fell during the Conquest.
Inside the gallery, one would find massive tapestries or masterpieces of artwork depicting notable events during the Conquest.
Also included is a Dornish panel portraying “peace through wisdom.” It showcases the signing of the Peace Treaty and a couple of ceremonies attended by the Ruling Princess of Dorne with her small delegation throughout the past few years.
5. Viewing of Nyessara’s Garden
Nobles are invited to stroll through the Royal Gardens which are also called Nyessara’s Garden in a tribute towards the Queen
Nobles can find Dornish citrus trees planted beside Crownlands pine trees, along with several unique Pentoshi plants and flowers.
In the middle of the gardens, one can find a striking fountain shaped like three dragon heads.
6. The First Court Held in the New Throne Room
On the 3rd day of the event, King Aegon holds the first public court in his new throne room.
He will hear petitions publicly, grant pardons, elevate smaller minor houses to greater esteem or create a new noble house and settle disputes fairly.
7. The Red Keep’s Royal Tourney
During the afternoons of the 4th day till the 9th, the Red Keep will bear witness to the first Royal Tourney being held in its home.
Archery, melee and jousting competitions will take place according to a schedule and every single noble is invited to enter if they so wish.
Winners will be awarded on the last day and as usual at the end of the main jousting event, the champion can crown a Queen of Love and Beauty.
OOC info:
The festivities would last for 9 days in-character whilst threads can take place for 16 days, ending on 31st of March with a plot drop!
It has been about 11 weeks since the last event. The Royal family & the current wards moved into the Red Keep a month ago.
Your threads may take place anywhere and at any one of the mentioned festivities at any time. You don't need to follow day by day.
If you still have old threads/ pre-event threads which you feel are important to your character and/or relationship development, you are free to write them alongside your event threads. We highly encourage you to do your best to wrap up your old threads by mid-next week though!
Please tag all starters with the tags of tc.event02 & tc.starter
Most importantly have fun & be inclusive! If you have any questions, at all please do not hesitate to ask the main!
Chapter 2: The Unveiling of the Red Keep - plot conclusion! ( click on each sentence to read about it )
The Justice for Dragons and Trouts
This hereby marks the end of Chapter 2 and all its plot drops! Members are welcomed to make new threads reacting to all of Chapter 2 plot drops be it the most recent or oldest ones! You all may also start writing of characters leaving King's Landing and travelling to wherever they wish to including the Grand Funeral of Danelle Tully in Riverrun which shall be attended by both Royal Families of Targs & Martells.
Four months after the Red Keep event, ravens come bearing news of the Royal Wedding of Princess Viserra Targaryen to Crown Prince Qoren Martell in Sunspear in which all nobles of Westeros are highly expected to attend. The Wedding will be held 4 months after the letters are sent out , which means it is 8 months between Chapter 2 & Chapter 3. The Royal family especially Princess Viserra and her two ladies-in-waiting are expected to arrive in Sunspear about 1-2 months earlier to prepare for her wedding as well as get to know her new family better.
Ooc: Chapter will commence somewhere in the last week of April Or last day of April...to be decided!
By the time the hunting parties began to return to the Red Keep, the mood had shifted entirely.
What should have been a triumphant procession—horns, laughter, tales of near-misses and fine kills—arrived instead in fragments. Riders came in scattered groups, some hearty, some shaken, all speaking at once. The story of the White Hart spread quickly: how Aenyx Targaryen had brought it down with a single, perfect shot, saving Argella Baratheon in the same breath. Some told it cleanly, with quiet awe. Others, embellished it into legend before the stag’s body had even been brought through the gates.
But those stories did not hold the court for long.
Whispers of something darker followed close behind.
Of an arrow meant for Daemon Targaryen.
Of Danelle Tully stepping into its path. Of poison.
Each retelling grew sharper, more frantic, less certain.
By the time the last riders arrived—Victaria Hightower and Gyles Tyrell, weary and dirt-streaked from their long search for the way back—the Red Keep was already thick with tension.
Danelle had been carried straight to the Grand Maester’s chambers.
The doors remained shut for what felt like an eternity.
Servants came and went in hurried silence. Basins of water. Cloths. Strange-smelling herbs. No one was permitted entry, not even family. Outside, the corridors filled with waiting figures, hushed voices, and the creeping dread of something none dared name aloud.
Inside, time was slipping.
At last, the doors opened.
The Grand Maester emerged, his expression grave, his hands still faintly stained from his work. He requested the presence of King Aegon, along with his two eldest children, and Oswyck Tully.
They were ushered in and the doors closed behind them.
“It is indeed poison,” the Grand Maester said at last, voice low and steady despite the weight of it. “A rare one. Dornish in origin.”
The words landed heavily.
“Fatal,” he continued, after only the briefest pause.
A stillness took the room.
The summons were sent immediately. Ruling Princess Deria Martell and her children were called to the chamber without delay.
When they arrived, the sight within was unmistakable.
Danelle lay pale against the sheets, her body trembling in uneven intervals, breath shallow, lips faintly blue. The poison had already taken hold.
It thus fell to Arianne Martell to assess what remained to be done. She worked swiftly and decisively, requesting what ingredients she could, her hands steady even as the room around her held its breath. There was an antidote, she explained. But it wasn’t available right now and it would take weeks for her to gather all the necessary ingredients.
Time they did not have.
Still—she did what she could.
A draught was prepared, bitter and dark, pressed carefully to Danelle’s lips. Not to save her, but to slow what could not be stopped. To grant her hours where there might have been none.
Hours to speak. Hours to say goodbye.
One by one, Danelle’s loved ones were brought in.
Family first.
Quiet words. Broken voices. Hands held too tightly, as though grip alone might anchor her to the world a little longer. Not far from the chamber, Daemon Targaryen gave his account; he was shaken, voice unsteady in a way few had ever heard. What Danelle herself could offer was fragmented, faint, but enough to confirm what mattered.
This had not been chance.
When the King emerged, his expression was carved from something colder than grief. Something harder. Orders came swiftly.
The gates of the Red Keep were sealed. No one was to leave without explicit command. Guards doubled. Patrols increased.
And then, he called for His Hand and His Master of Laws.
“Find who did this” he commanded, his tone sharp and urgent.
Whatever had begun in the Kingswood had not ended there. It had followed them home. And now, it would be answered.
Hi lovelies! As of right now, gossip and whispers of who was behind the attempted assassination of Prince Daemon is running rampant. There are many theories but one of them is of some nobles/ servants spotting the Martells being called to the Grand Maester chambers which lead to people thinking that maybe the Dornish are involved somehow.
In the meantime, the final round of joust is still happening but everyone is being closely watched by all the guards and every single exit out of the Red Keep is barred.
Everyone can still continue their event threads and make new ones reacting to all the recent plot drops! At the same time, we will be allowing discord threads within family channels so that families can re-group and talk about everything that has happened during this event. More details on this discord threads will be announced soon.
