( jessica green, cis-woman, she/they ) HARK! I believe the heralds are announcing the arrival of SER MANON HIGHTOWER, the TWO-AND-THIRTY year old, LADY of HOUSE HIGHTOWER OF OLDTOWN and KNIGHT of THE KINGSGUARD. They are known to hold loyalty towards THE CROWN/THEIR HOUSE/THEMSELVES and little birds sing of them being STRONG-WILLED & PLAYFUL. When one dreams of them, images of “the war between the duty of the heart and the duty of family ; years of discipline forming a righteous soldier, yet the never-ending urge of playfulness like a child unwavering ; the echo of a childhood smile and laughter that will never be witnessed again” comes to mind. However their RUTHLESSNESS and SEVERE LOYALTY nature can make for difficult times. Time will only tell what their true intentions are.
꧁⁺˚⋆｡°✩ 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚊 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜? ✩°｡⋆˚⁺꧂
꧁⁺˚⋆｡°✩ 𝚌𝚊𝚗 i 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎? ✩°｡⋆˚⁺꧂
trigger warning: pregnancy, death.
꧁⁺˚⋆｡°✩ 𝚒𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 ✩°｡⋆˚⁺꧂
There has always been a fine line between love and hate. Yet there was nothing to differentiate how both could change a person inside and out. For better or for worse? Well... That's subjective, is it not?
Third born and first daughter, there was always an unattainable goal she could never scratch the surface of. Her eldest brother was next in line to be the ruling lord of House Hightower. Gwayne, the second born, was the light of their mother's world. In many ways, perhaps Manon should have considered herself fortunate in knowing that she could choose whatever life suited her.
Yet she remained aimless. Granted, she pursued her passions, becoming skilled in weaponry, combat, and quite an outdoorsman. But Manon never dreamt of life being some lord's wife and mother of their children. No, not at all. She yearned for a life of unpredictability and seeing Westeros in all its form, and beyond.
And Manon has never been afraid of going after what she wanted.
She had been five-and-ten when she left Oldtown in the dead of night. Conspiring with her closest friends since she had been twelve, they gone away to see what life held beyond their home. Throughout the South and going to the farthest reaches of Dorne, then up, up, up to the North, these kids saw the world. Learnt how to provide for themselves, how to protect each other, and discover all they could learn about the other lands and the other houses. It was freeing. It was beautiful. And it was hers.
Then she met her husband.
Oh, in many ways, they turned each other right inside out. Through the best of times, through the worst of times, the love was all-consuming and passionate. Had she still been in the Reach, they never would've met; he had grown up a Dothraki, all the way across the sea, who'd come to Westeros to see the world the same as her. They challenged each other repeatedly before they eloped, testing their limits to see exactly what kind of people they both could become.
Their son changed things. Making King's Landing their home not too long after discovering their pregnancy, back when Manon was three-and-twenty, they began to work towards discovering what life they wanted for their family. Alternating between a variety of careers together, it wasn't until their son was two when her husband enlisted in the Kingsguard. Providing for them and still retaining the training he learned as a child, her husband became a natural knight.
Part of Manon was proud of him; the other, however, was full of envy. After all, she never wanted to be a housewife stuck at home raising children. But there was a happiness in her life. A happiness that halted when her husband was murdered by a Dothraki from his past, having come to Westeros in search of him.
Manon had been six-and-twenty when she killed that man. Him coming after her and her son after taking Kovarro's life. Soon after that, she enlisted in the Kingsguard.
It's been nearly seven years since her life completely changed, yet she has fought tooth and nail to give Argo and herself the best life. Her loyalty to King Aegon has grown tenfold, grateful to have been given a good life. After the recent death of Gwayne, however, she knows she should return her loyalty to her family, to her mother and brother.
Would it be monstrous to admit she wasn't entirely remorseful of Gwayne's passing? Or simply realistic that in a world such as Westeros, death by dragon wasn't the worse way to go?
It certainly was legendary.
Besides... Her loyalty is to her family. And she would sacrifice anyone to ensure Argo lived the life he deserves.
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They tasked themself to find someone, and with the noise erupting from the clearing, they had hoped she was there. Instead, it was Manon, raising morale. It was doing mighty fine as they could tell.
“I saw the way you dealt with those hellbeasts,” Rhogar retorts, playing along with their game. Their arms are raised up in defeat. “I would not dare go against your steel, for I do not wish to go back to those depths that you sent my brethren.”
They think of their next move. Instead they grab a wooden sword from the ground nearby. They kneel down, offering the sword as if they were swearing fealty. "I know I am but a beast that should be slain, but even I know when to not draw my sword, dear knight."
Her chin raised at Liege Qoherys, the children surrounding them giggling with delight. She could feel their eyes watching in anticipation and waiting for the knight's next move. Patting Argo's head, he removed himself from her with a big grin, stepping back while she took a step closer towards Rhogar.
"A wise decision, my Liege," she mused. "I would hate to slay such an agreeable being such as yourself." She sheathed her sword, yet palmed the handle. As though ready for anything the other might throw at her. That was perhaps the best part of play: a touch of reality.
Sea eyes looked over. Taking another step forward, Manon placed their chin between her thumb and forefinger, raising their gaze up to her while her other hand took away the wooden sword to place by her side, gripping it against her own sword's hilt. "Rise up, humble beast. For you have inspired your young brethren, the same way you have awed this knight's own heart."
even through the crowds, it seemed like the charms that pipa was unaware of having pulled those that she encountered into her hold. yet she couldn't help but to almost feel flattered by the attention as she stepped forward, bowing to the knight.
"you may, dearest knight." she responded in kind.
The knight moved up behind her while her son ran off with his friends, her hands placed on Pipa's hips firmly yet gently. "First, steady your stance. Keep your feet firm on the ground, rooted like a tree. Keep your breath calm and even."
One hand traced up her side before reaching her shoulder. "Keep your back straight. You are in control, even when facing your opponent. With a watchful eye and enough practice, you'll learn to anticipate their next move."
Kaito heard the laughter of children, even in the midst of everything that happened, the sound was nice. it helped reminded him maybe despite everything that occurred there is still a silver lining and just maybe things could get better. though with time.
he walked around King's Landing, once more before he was to depart back to Oldtown. Back home to another bustling city around him before he ventured else where.
what he did not expect was to see a familiar one had not seen in many moons, in many years. they still looked the same just older, as if life did not make the past few years easy on Manon. his sister. someone he vaguely remembers but missed or than of his siblings.
"can this lonely lord of Oldtown have a turn against a kingsguard?" Kai said as he approached and stood tall no longer the sulking the child that wanted to hide in the shadows in front of her and the child. "though do not let my injuries of the Joust fool you, i can still give a fight better than most of these lords here."
Her heart recognized him before her eyes did. For a knight whose bones were made of steel, the sight of her baby brother before her completely unnerved the eldest Hightower daughter. Seventeen years, nearly eighteen, since she last saw him. Since they last played together, laughed together, her little brother the light in her eyes. Most days, Argo reminds her of Kaito. She's known for years now that the two would've been close. That he would be his favourite uncle, the same way he was her favourite sibling.
So much love that should've been between the two, had she not stayed away for as long as she has.
Manon swallowed thickly looking at Kaito. She tried to gage what to say to him, but what could possibly be said after all these years? Could anything amend all that has been lost? Would the young lord even wish for amends?
Taking in a deep breath, the Morrigan of the Kingsguard let it out before speaking, "I will admit, I am quite intrigued to see the skills of a Hightower lord. Been some time since we last joust with wooden swords, hasn't it?"
My brother... My baby brother... Oh, how I have missed you so much.
Did she actually know? Probably not, but the intrigue of the other led her to wonder if she should press further and get more information. Not so that she could spread any rumors but to mainly quench her own curiosity. Though, to be touched by someone other than Ari felt both weird and exhilirating, a part of her feeling guilt for, what she felt to be cheating, but at the same time knowing Ari was probably not 100% loyal to Kylis as well.
She didn't hold that over Arianne, though, knowing about paramours and how it was normal in the Martell family to have more than one lover. "Well, I," she stammered yet again as she looked into the other's eyes before pulling herself away. "I-I don't even know you so why would I share all my secrets?" she huffed nervously
Laughter escaped the knight's lips. She was quite a cute little thing, an air of innocence surrounding her like mist. It was refreshing, in a way, considering she herself was not. Nor does she know of much people in King's Landing who was full of innocence, saved for her son. It was much easier to believe that everyone was corrupt. Everyone had some kind of goal or ulterior motive. And, who knows, perhaps this young lady did. Either way, there was no harm in enjoying her company for the time being.
"Oh, but I digress: I am less likely to judge you by not knowing you," the Morrigan pointed out. "King's Landing is quite big, is it not? And Westeros even bigger. What's the harm of one night between strangers?" Her head tilted, eyeing her with a small smirk. "Don't worry: you can trust me, My Lady."
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Those words were unlike any she had ever heard before and, for the first time in.... ever she was speechless, mouthing hanging open agape. "I-" she said, blushing deeply, knew that she wanted to do something crazy but having a threesome letting alone sleeping with random people she didn't know? Where was the romance?! "I-I, uh, I" she stammered, the red only growing worse, "h-how would you know?"
"Oh, I'm sure you know how I know." Her teasing purr was accompanied with a smirk as she leaned in closer. With an elbow resting on the table and chin in hand, the raven-haired knight tilted her head while her gaze roamed over Lady Rowan. "Mmm... No... Perhaps that's too much too quickly..." She was such an innocent looking thing. One that deserved to be treated gently, slowly, softly, until she was begging for more. "Have you ever been kissed before, My Lady? Someone gently taking your face in the palm of their hand, their thumb tracing the apples of your cheek, the softness of their lips against yours like a blooming rose? Their other hand roaming through your hair, gently intertwining those dark locks while pulling you in closer? Something soft, warm, full of passion?" Looking down at Kylis' lips, she looked back up and smiled. "You deserve a gentle kiss like that, My Lady."
Ser Hightower.....? Victaria was half tempted to do a mental count of her children, at least the ones she knew who hadn't become knights. Or Kingsguards for that matter. "I do not need for you to go easy on me, for I am not apt with a blade, I'm afraid... I'm here to discuss other matters."
She had not moved from where she stood at the edge of the clearing. She would not go to Manon. She was not entirely certain her legs would carry her if she tried, and she had not survived five-and-fifty years by letting her body betray her in public. The crowd was still there. Smiling, warm, entirely unaware that the woman standing at its edge had not drawn a full breath in approximately three minutes.
Manon looked well. That was the first thing, and it arrived without her permission. She looked strong and sun-worn and entirely, infuriatingly at ease in that white cloak, and there was a boy at her waist laughing up at her with his whole face, and Victaria's eyes moved over him once and then away, because there was only so much a person could absorb at once.
Victaria kept her hands still at her sides. She kept her chin level. She kept her eyes on her daughter's face, which was sun-worn and strong and seventeen years older than the last time she had seen it, and it was that, more than anything, that was making it very difficult to remain in possession of herself.
There was a boy at Manon's waist laughing up at her with his whole face.
She waited for the moment her daughter looked up and recognised her. It was the only thing she could do, standing there at the edge of it all, rage sitting quiet and hot beneath her ribs like an ember that had been burning for a very long time.
Seventeen long years came and went, and suddenly, she was five-and-ten again. A young girl who spent years formulating an escape plan all so that she could have a grasp of her own fate, her own destiny, and her own life. A life that she has lived deliciously since then. That hadn't kept her from being ignorant about life back home. About her father. Her brother's rise to taking over his spot. A marriage. It hadn't been easy, realizing everything she has missed. All the memories that will never be hers. A life that she will never have any knowledge of.
Yet if she could do it all again, she would. Even if it meant suddenly being overcome by the sharp, icy fear once her eyes landed on her mother's face. The eyes that she inherited from her; the eyes Argo inherited, shining bright like sapphires against his tan skin and curly black hair, much like his father's.
There has been three times she found herself wishing her family was by her side since she left them: her elopement to Kovarro; her pregnancy then the birth of Argo beneath the big full moon nine years ago; and the time she spent grieving her husband's death. She had pushed through, surrounded by the friends she's made all these years, surrounded by the love and support she has cultivated without fear of judgement. But that hadn't stopped that tiny wish.
A soft "Mother?" came out into the air and she finally looked down. Conjuring up a soft smile, she said lovingly, "Go play, warrior. Maybe help your friends with their technique, yes?" She kissed his forehead, not needing to bow down too far like she used to when he was small, and her heart burst as he beamed. Gathering the other children with excited hollers and war cries as they took off to play.
She watched them run off, taking the moment to breathe in and compose herself before looking at her mother. Breathing in, breathing out, then taking a few steps to Victaria.
Yet she kept her distance. As much as her mother is willing to keep herself in tact while others could be watching, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. And oh, has she certainly scorned Dowager Lady Hightower.
"My Lady," she announces. Back straight, features emotionless, gaze forward; a portrait-perfect knight, and representative of the Kingsguard of King Aegon Targeryen. "You look well."
the mere idea of a battle, especially after the hunt that still lingers through each of the kingdoms, wasn't ideal in the mind of piperette's. yet; there was something that drew her close to the battle ground, the sharp steel against playful joists.
ah... it was in fun.
and then... someone different in her view and pipa swore to her internal defenses that the blush was merely a concidence. so why did it keep on as she heard the offer of a spar. "i don't think i would even know how to use such a thing." she retroted to a passerbyer, eyes coy as they lingered onto the knight ahead.
Manon's eyes flashed at the sight of Pipa, her lips curving into a delighted smile. If there was one thing she was certain of, it was this: the Seven blessed this world with the most beautiful women. Each a goddess in her own right. And oh, did she rival the High Septon with how she worshipped each goddess that accepted her.
"Ah, a beginner." Moving closer, she took her time to drink her in. Eyes roaming everything Lady Yronwood offered in view. "Do not worry: I am a very patient teacher."
Watery gaze locking with eyes dark as night, she bowed before her. Smile huge and warm. "If I may, My Lady?"
"Foul hellbeasts—I will send you to the depths where you belong!" Shrieks of laughter rang out into the air as Manon was surrounded, the knight beaming as she sparred with some of the children of King's Landing with wooden swords. Her son was among the fray, attacking her joyfully while working with his friends to overpower Ser Hightower. With how high the tensions were after the hunt, she knew that the children were also beginning to be affected by the fear and worry hanging in the air like smoke. As a member of the Kingsguard, she was dutybound to ensure safety to the citizens. This included the youngest members of their society.
Fortunately, picking up a playful sparring match in a clearing in King's Landing seemed to help with that. And as a crowd watched, laughter and smiles coming from the children and adults around them, the knight was happy. Soon, the match was won. And applause rang out from the children she just competed with.
"Anyone else wish to spar with Ser Hightower?" she boasted. Her free arm wrapping around Argo as he hugged her waist, her beaming down at her son before eyeing the crowd before her with a smirk. "Do not be shy—I shall go easy on you. At first."
Kylis normally didn't drink, and mixed with her lack of sleep and not eating much it was a horrible combination to have. She was nearly a full drink in and already feeling the effects of it. "Life is utterly unfair," she groaned, resting her chin on the palm of her hand as she looked at a nearby wall, "I don't want to be this innocent little girl forever. I want... I want to do something crazy"
Manon's eyebrow rose up. "Is that so?" A smirk grew on the knight's lips. As watercolour eyes glanced along the room, they soon landed on two subjects happily intwined together with laughter and kisses. "See that mountainous brute and the busty voluptuous barmaid humping his lap?" she pointed out with a nod. Her attention returned to Kylis. A fiery mischief in her gaze. "Fuck them both. Go on, they enjoy having a third. There's this dual technique that they have that gives you one of the best orgasms of your life. Trust me, it's worth it."
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The Red Keep felt as wrong as it had since he first arrived.
Too quiet in the wrong places. Too loud in others. Whispers carried where laughter should have been, and every corridor seemed to hold its breath as if the stone itself had witnessed something it could not forget.
Theobald Lannister stood near one of the high windows overlooking the city, a goblet untouched in his hand. King’s Landing sprawled below, unchanged, indifferent. Smoke still curled lazily into the sky as if nothing had happened at all.
He exhaled slowly.
“They kill a ruling lady within these walls,” he said at last, voice low, edged with something colder than anger, “and expect the rest of us to carry on as if it were a misplaced cup at supper.”
His fingers tightened slightly around the stem of the goblet before he set it aside, untouched still.
“I’ve had enough of this place.”
The words were quiet, but firm.
“I would sooner trust the sea in a storm than another night under this roof.”
He turned then, gaze landing on the nearest presence without hesitation, sharp and searching.
“Tell me,” Theo continued, tone even but restless beneath it, “am I the only one with the sense to want out… or are you simply better at pretending you feel safe here?”
King's Landing wasn't an easy place to live in. Hard, rough, full of disloyal cretins ready to charm anyone one second then stab them in the back the next: it wasn't for everyone. Seventeen years, Manon has seen the worst Westeros had to offer. From the deserts of Dorne to the snowy reaches of the North, this land was cruel, and hard, and unbearable.
It was one of the most beautiful things about this land.
This city wasn't made for everyone; but it was home. It was made for Manon. And Manon was made for it.
Still, that didn't change the sour taste on her tongue nor the pit in her stomach since Lady Danelle Tully's death. And as a protector of this land and her people, she has grown increasingly harsh on herself. The thought kept returning to her: what if she'd been faster? What if she had prevented the death of Lady Tully and the near-assassination of Daemon Targeryen?
Mulling wouldn't bring back Danelle. It wouldn't protect Daemon. But by the Seven, it will be a damn good motivator to ensure she'll fight harder than before to prevent another attempt and murder again.
By this, she swears on her life.
"I do not pretend: I know I am safe here, Lord Lannister." Manon had stood taller as Theo's gaze landed on her. Her words ranged with the truth: she was safe. And so is her son. "I do not expect you to carry on carefree without fear. But do know that I am dedicated to protecting everyone beneath this roof, and finding the murderous coward responsible of this. You have my word."
asoiaf houses — HOUSE HIGHTOWER of the Hightower is one of the most powerful of the noble houses in the Reach. Their seat is the Hightower, located in the city of Oldtown. The sigil of House Hightower is a stone white watchtower, with a fire on the top. Their motto is "We Light the Way". They possess a Valyrian steel sword called Vigilance. The Hightowers are among the oldest and proudest of the Great Houses. They have often preferred trade instead of war, and have also avoided many wars because of their support for the Faith of the Seven. The Hightowers can be legitimately referred to as being either "of Hightower" or "of Oldtown". Some Hightowers are said to have dabbled in alchemy and necromancy.
i think folks are always being a little too flagrant with 'wouldnt wish this on my worst enemy' come on im sure that guy deserves it. youre being naive
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