#thesecondmartell

[mxnofhonour]

The Heir to Casterly Rock II Jaime & Elia

@thesecondmartell

Already, men stand high atop ladders throughout the halls of Casterly Rock, hanging banners bearing the golden lion of Lannister holding the spear of House Martell, set upon the backdrop of a sun. Jaime must admit, the sigil in celebration of his upcoming wedding is a handsome one, and yet the notion that he is to be wed leaves nought but a sour taste on his tongue.

The wedding is not for a week and yet the festivities have begun today. For today is the day the Martells are to arrive so that the Princess Elia might get acquainted with both her new home and her betrothed.

He does have some degree of fondness for the woman. The Lannisters and the Martells had all but grown up together, the betrothals between the Lannister children and the Martells having been on the cards for a number of years. Of course, Cersei's proposed engagement to Rhaegar Targaryen had thrown the plans asunder for a number of years. But here he stood, at the age of five-and-twenty, about to become Lord of Casterly Rock with Elia as his lady.

He stands aside his sister in the courtyard, watching as the wheelhouse is pulled in. Oberyn exits first, donned in a robe of ochre silk. Then, Elia follows in a gown of a similar hue. She truly is a beauty and Jaime would be lying if he said he did not find her pleasing to look upon.

When she approaches him, hand outstretched, he gently takes it, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. Despite his mislike for the situation, Jaime had been taught his manners from a young age. He is not about to disrespect the woman who is to be his wife.

"Princess Elia," he says with a smile. "Might I say, you look radiant as ever?"

[worstrper]

@thesecondmartell sent: [ FAREWELL ] : your muse kisses my muse goodbye before they're separated for an indefinite but long amount of time. (Kiss on the cheek or something to Oby from Elia/thesecondmartell)

> from this meme lol

Elia’s lips against his cheek has Oberyn shutting his eyes-- cherishing it, yes, always, but not feeling any less miserable for it. He opens them only when she pulls away, but even then, it’s only a few moments before he reaches out to take her wrist in his hand.

“I do not want you to go.”

Not to the Targaryens, not to King’s Landing, not to the land where the rumours of the Mad King have escalated enough that Elia couldn’t possibly be safe.

“It is the land of dragons and-- and Tywin Lannister, dear sister.” That he’s managed to keep from shouting is only because it’s Elia he’s speaking to, but the restless energy thrums under his skin all the same. “Our brother is a fool to make me stay in Dorne while you go.

“Our brother is a fool to think Rhaegar Targaryen could ever protect you like I could.”

[evertheviper]

@thesecondmartell sent: 29 liminal space meme (literally woke up, checked my phone, saw this meme and had to send one in XD now back to sleep) -- the ocean when it’s still quiet with fog over it
 ► FROM LIMINAL SPACE MEME

The only reason he’d come here, to King’s Landing’s miserable excuse for a shore closest to the Red Keep, had been to brood and be alone. Similarly, the only reason Oberyn kept from scowling as he turned to see who was approaching him in the early hours of morning was because the stranger was Elia.

And, tired, he said, “I was a fool to think you wouldn’t find me.”

Fresh from the tourney, and refusing to hide the marks he received from it (hiding one’s failure was even worse than the failure itself, after all), Oberyn sat with the ugliest, biggest bruise running along the length of his bicep. He didn’t like to move his smarting arm-- it still hurt, and Rhaegar was strong enough that the hurt lingered-- and for that was relieved that Elia sat on the side opposite it, if only so he could wrap his good arm around her.

“Your future husband made me fall,” he complained.

Yes, it had been a joust.

Yes, unseating was the point.

But to be unseated by Elia’s future husband, who he didn’t even like? Oberyn was miserable for more reasons than the fact he hated to lose.

“Look what he did to my arm, Elia. Look at that!”

[multusxcastalides-archive]

@thesecondmartell​

     The thought that he eldest, her precious, beautiful firstborn had died at the hand of a usurper was a thought that had to be pushed to the back of her mind. It was near impossible, as she saw his face, eyes devoid of life, in his mind’s eye. She had not truly seen it, but as a mother, she could imagine it.

     Every now and again, she had to stop, take a couple of deep breaths, squeeze her eyes shut and wait for the spinning to subside, unsure whether it was caused by her distress over the death of her eldest, or her pregnancy. It was ironic. One life given for another almost.

     Instead of mourning though, she was striding from one chamber to the next, instructing her handmaidens and servants what things to pack, and what to leave behind. It was said that now that the Usurper Robert Baratheon had murdered her child, his dog Ned Stark was marching his men to King’s Landing, and Aerys had ordered her packed and leaving before this army could arrive.

     With Elia’s son being heir now, Rhaella had begged and pleaded with her husband to allow her to take their good-daughter along with her to Dragonstone, and in the end he had given in. So besides overseeing the packing of her own things, she was also instructing some of the servants to help Elia pack her and her children’s things.

     Peering into Elia’s chambers, she saw her good daughter sitting beside the window, Aegon at her feet, Rhaenys in her lap. “How are you doing, my Lady?” Rhaella asked, smiling. “Is everything going well?”

[ladyxredxwolf-a]

@thesecondmartell​ sent: “do it, be bold.”

Sansa looked at the woman that sat opposite her and found herself smiling, her cheeks began to flush as she was encouraged to be bold. “I can’t, it’s different where i’m from we’re not bold.” She said playing with her cup as she looked down. The north didn’t really have women who were so forth coming, they tended to hide how they felt unlike in Dorne where they could be free and honestly Sansa envied that, but she never thought she’d be able to do such a thing. “How would you do it?” She asked curiously with a grin as she looked up from her tea cup to face the woman.

[rhaegxr]

@thesecondmartell​ spoke:   ❛   the social season is upon us.   ❜

░▒▌╳▐ s ɪ ʟ ᴠ ᴇ ʀ ᴘ ʀ ɪ ɴ ᴄ ᴇ

       𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 spoke those words, did coax out a hint of amusement from her husband and prince, surfacing in the shape of a subtle smile. Feasts and social gatherings of the like are sometimes a dual matter to him—There's ENJOYMENT in lingering with the folk, observing their interactions and performing music. However, when it comes to other such nobles, he is oft surrounded by FLATTERY and other false pretenses that never fail to EXHAUST him, resulting in his early leave. It's why the heir would on multiple occasions, scurry away from the Keep or Dragonstone to the city or town with the smallfolk; singing for them, hearing their troubles, learning what is not written in the ink of books and scrolls.

          ❝ Are you looking forth to it? ❞ Rhaegar enquires whilst adjusting the sleeve of his tunic, half turning in her direction. ❝ Mayhaps your brother shall be able to visit. I would imagine you miss him dearly. ❞ The princess has shared how FOND the siblings are of one another, making him wish he had a brother or sister closer his age, if only to know that kind of BOND. But Viserys has over a decade behind his older sibling, and due to Aerys' increasing APPREHENSION ( bordering on paranoia ), he would not allow even their mother to be left alone with the boy. ❝ Would you assist me with this, my princess? ❞ The Targaryen now fully turns, motioning to the neck of the tunic when softly asking for her help in properly adjusting the button.