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underdebate
smile, and smile, and be a villain
misirex-the-necromancer
Help me, for I am iUMX3EiWUXE
renee-minkowski
Remember When We Used To Pretend We Had Direction
dream-loudly
Dream Loudly 🌸
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at least they could agree on something, the celebrations were all an illusion, part of some twisted game. maybe elras was wrong for being so hesitant to trust so many, but it was difficult to trust a lannister. no matter the hosts intentions, relief washed over him when jaeda expressed her unwillingness to entertain the idea of forming a match with the king. even if elras could not call her his own she still remained nobody else's - still his to fantasise over. if only he had the ability to let his guard down, to allow himself to be soft once more. but if she hated him the way she seemed to he couldn't allow it, the thought of being rejected by the only woman he'd ever loved, would ever love would be his undoing.
he opened his lips to speak, but instead words full of wit are cut off by the scream that fills room. so wrapped up and captivated by her the ruling lord fails to notice his brother laying dead in his own vomit at first, but as soon as he does his heart seems to stop in his chest, colour falling from his cheeks. a sickness rises in his own stomach, eyes flickering from his brothers body to the food, he wants to stand to help but his feet don't allow it. it's not the sight of his brother that causes his own sickness, he realises that when his palms start to sweat and his body grows colder.
his eyes meet jaeda's, heart sinking further into his chest as the dots connect in front of him. the food. they've all eaten it, she's eaten it. his hand reaches for hers to stop her reaching for the food or wine again, though part of him knows it's not for that reason alone. " the food. don't touch it. " brown eyes search her expression for any sign of his sickness while ignoring his own. " are you alright? " there's no guard up anymore, worry clearly etched on his expression. " jaeda? " the sensation churning in his own stomach forces him to his feet as he clumsy trips on a leg of his chair, hand reaching for a wall blindly to hold himself up.
“ i fear you wouldn’t be able to look away if you did. ” the words made a chill run across her spine. did he know? had he figured her out after all these years, that each night she was in her chambers she thought of him more than any other man? did he know how she breathed his name from her lips in her deepest and darkest moments alone in her chambers? her cheeks turned pink and her eyes averted him as soon as she could. elras qorgyle would be her downfall, the spider queen who let none fluster her or make her insecure would fall on her knees if elras ever approached her in a manner she dreamt of at night. trying to hold herself together Jaeda finished her goblet of red, pretending as if she wished to leave the dining hall sooner rather than later. he was her poison, her most desired man and she could never let him know that.
as he spoke she found herself halfway listening, her ears filled with a buzz which was her heartbeat. As he asked her a question however she tried to regain her footing, to be ready for battle against the qorgyle. "It's all a cover." she replied rather harshly allowing herself to meet his gaze and regretting it instantly. what an easy man�� to pretend to hate, and even easier to love. "i have not." she stated and tried to eat, even though she could feel his gaze, her spine tingling once more. "i leave it to my brother, I do not wish to speak to that serpent unless I have to." thank god no one could hear their conversation. "i visited the streets earlier and it's an illusion for reality - kings landing is rotten and the weak are treated like dirt. I feel no love nor pride coming from the royal family in this place." her words as true as ever, never sugar-coated. "can't you see behind their masks elras?" she questioned and put her food down, her eyes once more meeting his hues. "I know you can-" she said and pondered before letting the compliment escape. "you are smarter than most." she murmured as if she were confessing her feelings. she needed to be rude, she needed to cover up her own words. "then again I might be wrong - sometimes you behave like a fish out of water." she shrugged.
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tila had not intended to walk into the lannister's tent - she would never have a reason to do so, she disliked the lannisters and all the stood for. as far as she was concerned they were arrogant, thought themselves above everybody else and as a loyal guard to the lady larra she stood with the targaryens and those of house rogare. what she'd intended to do was find the lady in question, at some point among all the tournaments and festivities she'd lost track her - though that came as no surprise when it happened so frequently.
thankful she'd not caught lyonel in a state of complete undress, for a moment she thought she may have, tila stood in silence and blinked as she stared at the other. this was both embarrassing and awkward, but she would not miss out on the chance to boast or remind the lannister of their failure to win any of the tournaments.
" clearly i stepped into the wrong tent. agreed. " still with a dull expression, tila allowed her eyes to wander if only for a moment before he stood herself up right. " i was looking for... " she stopped, if only for a moment. " never mind. " the urge ate away at her and unable to stop herself a small smile started to appear on her lips, sarcasm laced in her words. " it's a shame you lost, but i do enjoy watching a lannister squirm. "
⸻ open starter from lyonel lannister.
⸻ the medical tents by the tourney sands, after the joust.
though the grand maester had assured him that the ringing in his ears would fade away over the next few days, the disappointed roar of the crowd remained a constant companion as he was poked and prodded without even getting a chance to remove his dented armor ─ the ruling lord of dragonstone had not done him the dishonor of unhorsing him gently after he had sustained an injury in the third round and though it had been a harsh knock to the ground that further aggravated the tenderness in his ribs, lyonel had still managed to walk away with some pride, arms thrown over the shoulders of his squires as they assisted him towards the medical tent. pulling off his pauldrons with a sigh of relief, lyonel waved away his concerned squires and sat up on the bed, grimacing slightly as his bruised stomach pinched with discomfort at the motion.
the defeat of house lannister ( a lesser branch of the family, to be more precise, but lions nonetheless ) at the hands of house targaryen would no doubt make for an uncomfortable closing feast, considering the plans to celebrate had been made in the assumption that one of the many lannister cousins would secure a win in any of the three tournament events, and lyonel could not say that he envied those who would be subjected to the ire of his royal cousin and king in the upcoming days. grunting slightly, he tossed his pauldrons to one side, following the beaten metal as it bounced off the ground and rolled towards the feet of someone who had just walked into the tent.
❝ sorry about that ! i very wisely dismissed my squires and undoing my armor is proving to be a challenge with bruised ribs and dented metal. ❞ in spite of the dull ache in his torso, lyonel managed a small smile at the newcomer, holding one hand out so that he could take the stray pauldron. ❝ if you are here in search of someone, i fear they are in another tent as i am the only one here. ❞
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talia vyrwel - guard of larra ragora and house rogare of the crownlands
🜲 ⸻ · 。… [ amita suman / 28 / cis woman / she / her ] in the conflict between lions and men, tila vyrwel begins their first steps up the ladder in the game of thrones. known to be loyal and courteous, their rumored short tempered and impatient tendencies might prove to be their unmaking. the court bards play upon themes of a blade glistening in the sun, the spirit of a dragon and a warriors heart when composing a tune for them. while they are guard of larra ragora and house rogare of the crownlands, it is said that their loyalties lie with house rogare / larra ragora. only time will tell if the tides shift favorably for them or if the climb is too hazardous for even the most sure - footed.
tw: grief, death, war.
NAME. tila vyrwel.
TITLE. none / guard to house rogare, specifically larra ragora.
AGE. twenty - eight.
RELATIONSHIP STATUS. single.
SEXUAL ORITENTATION. bisexual.
tila followed in her fathers footsteps. born to a warrior and a fine lady in waiting, she loved the idea of holding a sword and fighting along side her father as soon as she was old enough. many told her she should act more like a lady, but never her parents - once old enough she was gifted her first wooden sword for her birthday, her father teaching how to use it while her mother taught her everything else she needed to know.
at twenty her father was sent to fight and never returned. it was said he died a warriors death but talia continues to grieve for him even now. she took it upon herself to become as good a warrior as he was and eventually found her place as a guard for the house rogare.
assigned to the lady larra ragora's personal guard, tila takes her duties very seriously. time has forced her to grow a tough facade which few ever get to see past, she's not always kind on first approach and it takes time for her allow her guard to drop - but being the lady larra's guard is her priority. still there is potential for her eyes to wander as deep down she wishes to have a family just as her parents did.
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closed starter. - for zahir. @tempestaes
it didn't matter where he was, the prince had the tendency to walk around a place as if he owned it anyway - even when in the lions den. hands were joined behind his back as he approached the lord allyrion, a pleasant smile on his lips. " have you had enough wine to start enjoying yourself yet, lord? or should i find somebody to fetch you some more? " it did him some good to keep his wits about him - just because they were celebrating it did not mean they weren't surrounded by many who might consider them a threat. " though just enough to enjoy yourself, we'd all do well to sleep with one eye open. "
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Finan
The Last Kingdom | Season 4
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closed starter - larra rogare @badfated
emir would never admit to having had too much to drink, he would never allow himself to made to look such a fool, but he had taken himself away from the busy streets to a more secluded spot to find himself a seat. he paid little mind to passers by as he wedge the tip of his sword into the ground concentrating on one spot in particular. a side eye from a guard stood by didn't stop him in his tracks - as long as he wasn't pointing it at somebody what did it matter? he would be an idiot to do something so reckless.
his movements stopped when he spotted the lady rogare, a face he was familiar, though they'd never had much of a conversation. " lady larra, " he called out to her as he sheathed his sword so he didn't look to be a threat. " would you care to walk with me? i've been looking for some good company and it has appeared before me. "
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closed starter - alerie lannister @ofloyaltiesxrhearts
" don't tell me you've already had enough of the celebrations, cousin? " timon couldn't help but grin when he spotted alerie exiting the hall as he rest his back against the wall, a guard to his right paying little attention to the lord - why would he? he was a cousin to the king and meant no harm, but he did need some peace. " not that i would blame you, nor will i tell. "
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closed starter - @exfabularum
elras enjoyed the festivities as much as the next person, but he was starting to miss the comfort of his own home. though he was pleased to still be surrounded by his siblings and friends - he would have preferred the comforts of his own bed and the view outside of his walls. perhaps they should consider holding a gathering one day soon.. but would he want potential enemies so close to home? it didn't seem wise, not even for lannisters.
" tell me, are you missing home yet, chaaya? " perhaps it didn't help that jaeda had gotten under his skin again. he tried not to allow it but she seemed to be the only one capable of having such a hold on him - insults and all. " i miss my bed and the quiet. "
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closed starter. -- @serynah
there was one missing goat, one blasted missing goat that he and lorent had missed, it had run faster than his own legs could carry him and now timon found himself spying in the fields in hopes that he'd catch sight of it. he'd covered himself with a cloak to disguise himself from onlookers, he could only imagine the whisperers that'd travel over kings landing if someone saw a lannister like this - though he hoped some guard didn't catch sight of him and think he was out causing trouble. how was he supposed to explain this?
as one questionable idea after the other racked through his mind finally he caught sight of the small goat in question. the lannister stood to start making his approach, but the goat bolted again this time towards a familiar face, seryna. timon didn't avoid her intentionally, he just wasn't sure what to make of her - she was the opposite of him and no matter how beautiful she was he found her presence to be overwhelming. she was bold and perhaps it was him who was the problem, incapable of making such quick comebacks in her presence so he chose to avoid her all together.
cursing under his breath the lannister moved quickly, the hood of his cloak falling down on the way. before he could reach her the goat was already behind her taking a particular interest in her dress. " i don't wish to alarm you lady, but there's a goat behind you and he likes the look of your dress. " maybe he should be grateful the goat hadn't made it's way into the hall or gone wild on the streets, but he wasn't. " ...he looks like he might be about to eat it actually. "
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open starter. ( caping at 5 )
the streets were crowded and the hall in which the feast was being held was loud with numerous conversations taking place all at once. even for timon, the type to keep himself in the background, a point came when a break was needed - some quiet however difficult to find. he searched the halls for somewhere to let his mind rest but inside proved to be unsuccessful, instead he moved to the gardens where he found himself a quiet spot, body slumped into the seat in a way he'd never chose to present himself to anybody. but the faint footsteps that alerted him to somebody's presence had the lannister immediately sit up right. " don't let me disturb you, i just needed to get some air. "
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lips were parted, words waiting on his tongue so he could respond - a tone of sarcasm wrapped within them though they didn't come. in public, elras had a tendency to try to look his best, to not falter or let his guard down, yet when his sisters scarf blew into her face he couldn't resist the laughter that travelled up from his throat. lips were pursed but it still escaped, a smile bitten back as he looked to his sister. " oh i would never, lusine. " though it was clear he was laughing, he reached up to pull the scarf from her face, pulling it down to tuck it back into place so it hopefully wouldn't attack her again.
" as for smelling of an alehouse, have i ever? " finally the words he'd planned to say left his mouth, but a smile remained on his lips, his cold demeaner that he'd held moments ago had clearly softened now he around his sister. it was not that elras was trying to avoid marrying, but he'd made no attempt to do so either. he had tried, he had talked and entertained the idea of finding a lady yet he'd not found conversation to be easy with many of them either. " perhaps you're wrong and they enjoy the smell, i've had no luck and i've tried. " his eyes rolled. " unless you have someone in mind? "
darkness had fallen over the capital and the shadowed alleyways had prompted the lamplighters to come out into the streets in droves so that the surrounding areas could be properly illuminated with the orange glow of what seemed to be a thousand candles ─ the gentle breeze that flowed through the narrow streets served as a cool balm to the humidity that these candles exuded, though that did little to keep a light sheen of perspiration from gathering at the nap of her neck as she made her way down the cobbled path, curious to see how the scene had changed from as day bled into night. with a crimson scarf covering her hair loosely, lusine was near - similar to many of those who flooded the streets which perhaps was the reason why her brother failed to recognize her at first. ❝ the pigs ... either by mistake or by design. no woman wants her husband to come back smelling like an alehouse. ❞ she spoke as though she had experience in marriage but, after nearly five years as a kept woman in the westerlands ( as some of the old women of court had begun to call her to keep their conversations polite ), lusine felt like she had enough knowledge on the matter of partners to speak plainly. ❝ you will remember that, won't you, brother ? we do need a heir to the family name sooner rather than later. ❞
the words were followed by what she expected to be a dramatic unveiling though the wind seemed to have other ideas, blowing the scarf back onto her face and leaving her shaking her head to get it out of her mouth with little success. ❝ i'd better not hear you laughing. ❞
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now he was regretting bringing up the topic of tyron finding a new queen. timon had little luck in finding his own lady, let alone giving his cousin such suggestions, but perhaps their intentions were different. he had no plans of wedding for anything less than love - something he knew he would find difficult to find if he continued to stand on the side lines and stay hidden. tyron however.. he imagined his intentions may be different as a king, there were more needs that needed to be met, it had far more to do with alliances and wealth.
for a brief moment he considered a certain somebody who plagued his mind every time he saw her but instead he bit his tongue - something stopped him from saying her name. " there are many ladies from the iron islands or dorne perhaps? i could not suggest one, they are all beautiful. " as long as he did not choose her. " i am not the best to ask, i am painfully unmarried and useless at charming them, cousin. but you're a good judge of character. "
amusement played upon tyron's lips at his cousin's words and a part of him did enjoy the spectacle of timon lannister. he was good, in a way which tyron never could be - he was everything he wasn't and so easy to move on the chess board if need be. tapping his finger along the glass goblet in his hand tyron let his eyes follow timon while he spoke.
"yes, you are absolutely right timon." he sighed and lifted his own cup to his lips. there was no denying the truth in his cousin's words and of course tyron was on the look out for a new queen. he'd like someone he could control, someone he could pretend to love without struggles and someone pleasing to the eye. However, he also needed someone with a bag full of coins. the lannister mines had run dry a few years ago and now they needed new coins to maintain their life in kings landing. "Do you have any suggestions cousin? Which fair lady deserves to sit by my side and carry the next line of lannister kings or queens?" cocking his head to the side he was serious with his question - wondering what the man with the complete opposite personality of his, would recommend his cousin and king.
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elras usually preferred the company of fine wine and a feast over a hunt, but he'd insisted that he try to appear friendlier - his standoffish approach had done little for his house beyond dorne and now felt like a better time than ever to extend his circle. the more allies, the less enemies - or so he hoped.
that being said the sooner this hunt was over the better, elras would be relieved, he found no joy in hunting boars and he certainly wasn't good at it either. " it lost it's charm before i'd even killed one. " words mumbled under his breath, yet still loud enough to be head, he lifted his head to look to the lannister curiously.
elras trusted a lannister about as far as he could throw them - that being said he was on their ground now and he would play along for all their sakes. perhaps he would find an unlikely friend in this one. " but this is my first hunt and hopefully my last, it turns out i am no natural and i'm better at drinking wine. "
the woods crunched underfoot, the lannister prince trotting along with a tune whistled from pursed lips. his horse, a bright, pretty thing, affectionately named blondie, only slows when loren finds a victim that would receive him. truthfully, he possesses no interest in the idea of the hunt. no enjoyment came from barreling through the woods with a weapon at his side, attempting to outsmart those around him to square and land the killing blow. no animal can spark the fire to fight. loren prefers his hunts more... alive, interesting, or able to fight back. the tourneys were his forte. where his swordsmanship thrived.
and yet he cannot stand the idea of not attending if only to keep appearance; to boost the luxury of such an event, even. perhaps the looming hole of the crownland's wealth will fill by some sympathetic miracle.
"this is my second hunt," loren says, casual, eyes sliding towards elras qorgyle. he does not know why he drags himself into the ruling lord's presence - perhaps enticed by the idea of getting past those rumored walls. not many in dorne look upon a lannister with any sort of affection, yet that is the very reason loren is charmed enough to make himself known. who better, if not him? "only so many damn boars to kill before it begins to lose its charm."
@1thr0nez : ( elras qorgyle )
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the prince had not intended to interrupt anybody, he certainly had no intention of losing his head either even with a few drinks inside him - but never too many, a prince couldn't lose his composure, not one as grand as he was. dressed in his finest robes emir approached the lady, his brow arched, seemingly unphased by the throwing around of her sword. a bow suited him better, but he was equally as talented with a sword.
" put the sword down, my lady, i didn't mean to interrupt you. " hands raised, emir smiled - though some might have considered it unsettling, in truth it was reeked off a certain arrogance. " do you think it's wise to be throwing that about? you might cut yourself if you're not careful. "
❄Location: The Tourney Grounds❄ ❄with: open❄
It was late. Truly it was very late, late had been a few hours ago after the feasting when everyone else dawdled off to bedroom. So, now it was very late. The silver moon was high in the sky, its beams illuminating the barren grounds. It was strange to see the stands that had been so full of life earlier so completely empty. Aryanna peered up at the stands trying to make out where she would’ve sat earlier that day. While she had not been expressly forbidden from entering any of the events it had been implied that her not entering would be preferred. And so she didn’t much to her dismay. She languished all day in the stands envious of those whose swords clashed fervently in the melee. But, things were complicated, she was a bastard, a bastard who was still relatively new to politics and everything else. It was better for everyone if she kept her head down and avoided upsetting anyone.
Still, it had never been said that she couldn’t practice on the grounds, especially if no one else was there. Aryanna spun around in the center of the grounds, dirt kicking up under her feet. She pulled her sword from her scabbard, the steel shining in the moonlight. She began a series of drills, lunge, swing, jab and parry. Lunge, swing, jab and parry. This went on for a while until sweat pooled on her forehead. A grin peeled across her usually stern face. There was a peace that came with practice, a certainty in herself. That serenity was broken quite suddenly, someone else was there. Aryanna swung around and pointed her sword at her intruder.
“Hark! Who goes there?”
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anron could not begin to understand his sisters visions, he had never experienced anything like it - perhaps because the wine and ale clouded his mind far too often or because trouble followed him in the form of a cloud rather than in his visions, but he tried to lighten the mood unsuccessfully still. " i'm sorry, i don't mean to make light of it - i just... " his words faded, there was little point in explaining he would just lead the way and do as she asked - it was what he did as an over protective brother. " why would i not be safe? " the question sounded even more ridiculous out loud - anron smelt trouble and ran towards it. " these visions plague your mind too much sister, if we pray them away i hope we can finally rid of them for you. " finally they reached the sept and anron stepped back to let arwyn enter first. " it was my duty to protect you first, don't do you dare forget it either. " he grinned, playfulness back in his words. " lead the way. "
" you should not jest about such things, anron. " arwyn scolds, though there's genuine worry in her tone rather than malice or any sort of misguided discipline. she clings to his arm still as they walk, and there's a comfort to her that soon they will be at the sept, safely locked in prayer. " if i ask enough that they do not come to pass, the warning will be a warning for nothing. you will be safe. " dreams, headaches, visions, warnings: whatever she called them, she knew she had a responsibility. to all her siblings, to her family, to her house. no matter how much she toiled and ached, no matter how much she tried to keep it all hidden, no matter how many times she battled compulsions and superstitioned and tried to close her eyes and hide, they followed her. this is what she was meant for. " it is my duty to use them for the reason i am blessed with them. " blessed. ha. " it is my duty to protect you, brother. "
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closed starter. @ofloyaltiesxrhearts
it'd been two years since he'd started to feel that little fire inside his chest every time he looked at her, two years since he'd been unable to resist her charm even when she clearly could not to stand him the majority of the time. anron was under no illusion that he was good enough for someone like her, so he continued as if he wasn't and locked away any affection he might have held for her. they were opposites after all, she was put together, knew what she wanted and anron... he knew he was none of those things - the shadow of his brother, the trouble maker as he always had been.
but even then it didn't stop him from approaching her in the hall where the music played and people danced with one another. perhaps he shouldn't have after already having made an impression on most when he'd stood by the table and had his fill of food - but she could reject him if she wished it. " lady, i would ask you to dance but i would likely step on your toes. "
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timon had been so focused on watching two drunks get into a brawl not far from his view that he'd not heard the lady approaching until she spoke. " lady, " he turned his head to give her a smile - never was there a reason to be unfriendly to her, her brother was one of his closest friends after all - and timon was not the type to make an enemy without good reason. " it is. have you met with my cousin, the king, yet? "
@1thr0nez , maegara & timon .
she had never been one who sought or garnered much attention , in fact she often blended into the shadows . which was rather fortunate when she wanted to go unseen for a bit . such an occasion as this , when her brother's dear friend was right there . silent , light footsteps carried her up behind him , ideally without being noticed until -- " lord timon , lovely day . isn't it ? "
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