#tirius 004

[visxionaries]

who: @tiriusrowan when and where; set following his conversation with lady halima yronwood about orchestrating the set up, king cedric tyrell makes an uncharacteristic request to see the hand of the king late in the night. context: cedric tells tirius of the plan...which includes the killing of the only old way septon on the most devout

cedric stood by the window of the audience room within the rowan apartments, the cool night air seeping through the partially open shutters. his hand rested on the stone sill, fingers idly tracing a crack in the weathered surface as he stared out at the shadowy garden below. the moonlight spilled across his profile, casting sharp lines over his jaw and cheekbones. behind him, the room was dimly lit, the flames in the hearth crackling softly against the silence.

he heard footsteps in the hall, heavier than most. he did not turn at first, though he caught the faint rustle of fabric and the hushed whispers that marked a hasty departure. a small smile tugged at his lips—he knew tirius rowan well enough to recognize his...preparations before such a late meeting. cedric straightened as the door creaked open. "tirius," he greeted simply, turning to face his hand. his voice was low, steady.

"thank you for coming at this late hour." he gestured toward a chair opposite his own at the modest table set near the hearth, its surface clear save for a single carafe of wine and two goblets. he did not sit until tirius did, though his movements were measured, deliberate. this was not a conversation to be rushed; especially considering what he was going to ask of the man. it were part of ruling, having the most senior of positions - putting aside morals, and swallowing back down the guilt.

cedric poured them both a drink but pushed the goblet toward tirius without taking his own. he folded his hands before him, leaning forward slightly as the firelight flickered in his blue eyes. "i’ve made a decision, tirius. one that will demand your insight and, more importantly, your discretion." his tone was firmer than usual, not unkind but stripped of the languid charm that often colored his words. he didn’t mince them now, knowing tirius’s preference for brevity. there was no use in using silver lines on tirius rowan; he could see right through them. he needed the hand of the king to agree with this;

"you know the high septon," he began, "has grown too bold. he is beyond compromise and conversation; it’s a threat to the governance and administration of the realm. one that needs to be removed." cedric paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gauged tirius’s reaction. "to do that," he continued, his voice quiet but carrying the weight of the plan, "we must dismantle his support. quietly, cleanly. there’s an old way septon on the most devout. respected. revered by those who cling to tradition." he allowed the implication to settle before speaking the words plainly.

"he must die."

there was no theatrics in how he said it, only the gravity of a king issuing a command. "his death will be...placed at the feet of the high septon. the faithful will be outraged, the old way adherents will turn on him - those major families across westeros are some of the last that continue to uphold his position. and we will step in to restore order, uniting them under a more agreeable influence." cedric leaned back slightly, his gaze unwavering. "you follow the old way, tirius. i know what this might mean to you. i need you to tell me honestly if this plan will work, if the reach can survive it. but," his voice softened, almost imperceptibly, "i also need to know if you can live with it."

[lucreziasredwyne]

who: @tiriusrowan where: the lady of the arbor requests an audience with the hand of the king regarding recent developments within the reach, most notably to convey her concerns with rising factions and...multiple other things.

six weeks had gone by in what felt like a blur, and perhaps the reason for that was because they had been a mere blur: more than a blur. rather a whirlwind, in which life itself seemed to turn upside down and the centre of the universe itself had become refocused. and yet, with that refocusing came the uprooting of what it was to become a mother: all the things one once considered important no longer held nearly as much value, and some other matters held more value than ever before.

there was no denying the exhaustion her body seemed to constantly feel at all hours of the day, the way her body had sacrificed so much for her first child; and birth itself was only the beginning.

it was customary she was to remain nursing within the privacy of her own state apartments, since the journey from brightwater had indeed caused her enough exhaustion to sleep through most of the ride, whether it be night or day. sleeping or feeding, seemed to be what her day consisted of: there were moments where she felt more like a human than a cow. in the end, she had wished to venture to highgarden to be closer to her aunties, lady simonetta hightower and lady aiyla rowan during the time of recover. and lentis. how much lentil soup and overall meat her ladies made her eat.

and she was content with taking the time to recover and continuing to allow politics and court to do as it always did; only, the reports from her husband only further unsettled her. she felt a sense of anxiety in the bottom of her stomach thinking about what she would return to. the last time there had been emerging factions within the most powerful of courts, there had been civil war.

and they had already survived one. her page seemed surprised when she extended a request to meet with the hand, and when it was returned with agreeing only if it were held within her own apartments, lucrezia found herself agreeing. when tirius rowan entered the room, she quietly thought how he seemed more at ease and fitting in his role, and whilst she did not entirely raise from the chair in which she sat, she leaned forwards to place kisses on each side of his cheeks as was expected as per their tradition and culture.

"as-salamu alaykum." she greeted him, looking up at him for a moment, unable to avoid a slightly shy smile crossing over her features. it were as though seeing an older brother again; and now she was a mother. avoiding the slightly rose tint coming to her cheeks, she cleared her throat, allowing the ladies in waiting to offer him food and drinks as per his wishes; she had ensured his usuals were available for selection. "thank you for coming to see me. you are very much aware i would have come to your apartments." the bleeding had stopped, as had the aches that plagued her body; at least the majority of the most painful ones.

"arlo is sleeping...gods, they really do sleep so much, do they not?" she asked, her voice almost incredulous, happy to speak about it with someone she knew would understand. that pink tint remained on her cheeks however.

she moved to bring a pillow against her, her movements more careful than usual, though maintaining eye contact with him. she remained wrapped in a warm robe over her dress, as she found herself getting cold entirely too quickly. "i wanted to ask you something, and speak to you about something else after. something that has concerned me. but first, how is it house tarly have ended up in your disdain of all people?"