he's heard a little of the blackwood lord. a silent recluse by comparison to most, especially the ruling lord lannister himself. a second son not destined for his title but holding it anyway, a former lord on his way to being a maester. most importantly, he had a sibling on the council, someone with the king's ear. it's half the reason that tharion bothers to approach the lord at all, calm swagger in his step as he makes his way across the courtyard to settle before him. " lord blackwood. " he greets with a slight incline of his head. he wasn't from a great house of all, not worth the effort of a grand greeting he would afford the targaryens. " I have been quite curious to ask you something. " he thumbs at the stubble of his jaw, head inclining just slightly. " do the maesters study only illnesses of the body, or do they explore the breaking of the mind as well? "
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" do you think the people will get into the spirit of the masquerade? " the lady - in - waiting questions as they roam through the keep, arms intertwined and skirts swishing quietly against the stone floors. dark gaze flits around at each and every new face that steps into king's landing at behest of the king's summons. she though of the keep almost like home, especially within the last decade, the woman at her side more familiar than the four walls of her childhood bedroom. to see the place filled with those that may not have the best of intentions? well, it made cat more nervous than she would care to admit. " it would be horrible if your father went to such trouble to plan it only for people to put on a dull mask and think that's good enough. "
šššššš: raya stark ( @northernseer )
" princess raya. " catelyn greets kindly, wide smiling tugging at her mouth at the sight of her. she had liked the lady from the early days of their meeting, had watched the day that she and aemon said their vows in the sept and though that hopefully the two of them would be well matched, that they both deserved something soft and warm to call their own. she hardly liked to impose, often too busy with rhaella to spend much time with the new princess, but she liked her energy all the same. " it pleases me to see you back in the keep again after your time back north. i hope you and your family had a pleasant journey. " she tilts her head, her smile a warm thing and full of pure curiosity and sincerity. " will you stay for long after the celebrations are over? "
it didn't seem to matter how much time passed. the memory of the past was still a sharp thing, pressing against her ribs and promising to slide between them if she merely breathed wrong. catelyn knew it was pathetic, had actually been told as much by her father before he passed. she just couldn't seem to shake it off. her anger has long since faded, was hardly rational to hold in the first place, too able to understand why selyse and the lord tully had chosen each other to actually hold that anger tight. but the hurt had remained, had tarnished the tight bonds they once all held and reduced them to mere tatters. it made it hard, just thinking about them.
it's made harder now, the whole of the court being summoned to king's landing and making it plain that catelyn would not be able to avoid her former closest friend. didn't mean she hadn't tried. she'd stuck to rhaella's side, happy to run errands when needed and otherwise avoiding the faces that passed through the gates. she'd stepped into the gardens to gather a bouquet when she's met with the face she wishes she could forget. lips purse, hurt flashes through her bright and strong, following by longing. " selyse. " she whispers in surprise, exhaling softly before clutching the bundle of flowers tight in her grip, longong for the floor to open and swallow her hole. " you're looking very well. "
A small frown touched Casslena's lips. She stared down at the embroidery stretched across her lap, then with a sharp tug began unpicking several careful stitches she had spent the better part of an hour sewing. It was all wrong. The flowers curved where they should not curve. The leaves were uneven. The thread seemed determined to knot itself no matter how patiently she guided the needle. Every flaw leapt out at her the moment it was made, impossible to ignore. With a sigh, she set to undoing it all again.
A sheer black veilĀ covered her face and shoulders as she sat in a primarily shaded area, being spared the worst of the afternoon heat. She hadnāt expected to come back to Kings Landing, not after her humiliating and very public breakdown at court. Yet, here she was. Here to face the music once more.Ā
Her needle darted through the cloth with growing irritation. Stitch. Pull. Stitch. Pull. The point slipped. "Ah!" as the needle pierced the side of her finger. Casslena yelped softly and jerked her hand back. Bright blood poured against pale skin. She frowned at it as though personally offended, then brought the wounded finger to her mouth.
"I can see you." her voice was soft but there was a clear amount of frustration in her tone.Ā
The stitching resumed at once, her hands moving with renewed determination. She did not look up. There was no need. She could feel the weight of someone's gaze lingering upon her. Watching.Ā
"You might as well come out from the shadows. Unfortunately I have little patience in this moment." That was perhaps the understatement of the year. Another stitch. Another pull. "And before you ask, yes, the embroidery seems to be winning."
she had not quite stopped worrying about casslena since the incident in the keep occurred. she had visited stonehelm not long after it, offering her support and sympathy, her lack of judgement and pure care that she still held for the swann sister even after all this time. it's why upon arriving in the red keep, catelyn had slowly been going down her mental list of people that she needed to catch up with, people she needed to check in on, and a select few that she was very purposefully avoiding. casslena fell very firmly into the middle category.
she hadn't been game enough to visit the swann quarters in search of her, instead turning to guards and the smallfolk who worked in the palace for any sighs of the lady. it took only a coin pressed into a palm to get the information that she needed. she finds the target of her searching mere moments later, catelyn lurking by the corner of the wall and peeking beyond it to ensure she did not interrupt. gasp leaves her mouth at the prick, brows furrowing in concern before casslena's voice reaches her ears and she steps out from beside the wall. " it's just me. i fear i've never been particularly good at lurking. " she leads with as she makes her way over to her, taking a seat just opposite the woman. " are you alright, cass ? it was only a prick, wasn't it? "
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"alysanne." her name comes out in a delighted breath, dark eyes widening in surprise. she shouldn't be, really. the entire kingdom had been summoned here to king's landing, it was hardly like alysanne was going to skip out on it. yet it is still a pleasantness to come across her here now that her visits the the riverlands were few and far between, practically eliminated once it's heir got married. " it's so good to see you again! " she doesn't hesitate to move forward, embracing the woman in her arms, reminiscent of times when she looked to aly almost like a sister. " did you only just arrive ? "
their Ā silent, Ā stilted Ā trek Ā through Ā the Ā keep Ā wound Ā them Ā through Ā to Ā the Ā gardens, Ā so Ā far, Ā the Ā most Ā quiet Ā place Ā erena Ā had Ā managed Ā to Ā find. Ā a Ā sort Ā of Ā nervous Ā energy Ā had Ā crept Ā to Ā lodge Ā both Ā in Ā pit Ā of Ā her Ā stomach Ā and Ā notched Ā in Ā their Ā throat Ā since Ā the Ā decree Ā had Ā been Ā received. Ā in Ā the Ā bowels Ā of Ā the Ā targaryens' Ā keep Ā it Ā had Ā risen Ā to Ā a Ā peak Ā that Ā left Ā them Ā feeling Ā close Ā to Ā choked ; Ā quick Ā steps Ā from Ā the Ā allotted Ā chambers Ā before Ā anyone Ā could Ā say Ā otherwise. Ā bustling Ā bodies Ā streaming Ā in Ā either Ā direction Ā dodged Ā easily, Ā face Ā downturned Ā as Ā they Ā first Ā reached Ā what Ā looked Ā to Ā be Ā the Ā kitchens, Ā out Ā to Ā the Ā foliage Ā lining Ā each Ā sides Ā of Ā them. Ā it Ā was Ā the Ā first Ā true Ā breath Ā they Ā had Ā taken Ā since Ā leaving Ā the Ā dreadfort, Ā inhaled Ā deep Ā and Ā caught Ā somewhere Ā between Ā nostrils Ā and Ā mouth Ā when Ā she Ā realized Ā they Ā had Ā nearly Ā walked Ā upon Ā another. Ā ā Ā my Ā apologies, Ā my Ā liege. Ā ā
[ Ā open Ā starter, Ā open Ā to Ā 2/5 Ā replies Ā ] Ā Ā
she hated the mere idea of bringing her daughters to this place. it was once a place she loved coming to, loved exploring when she was not yet a woman grown. now? all she can think about is how her sister was locked up inside, her not on the list of approved visitors. her other sister gone from the table that mattered, her brother-on-law morphed from loved one to a stranger to her. so, lys keeps a tight hold on their hands as they walk through the gardens, their septa walking just to the side as she pointed out various flower types they'd never seen in the north. erena's face is the last that she expected to run into there, shock paramount for a mere moment before her expression softens. " what for? you hardly did anything wrong. " she turns to the septa, head inclining towards the twins before she releases their hands into hers. " go with your septa, darlings. " lysara's gaze follows them until they're out of sight before turning them back to the bolton. " it's good to see you, erena. "
she does not bother to contain the roll of her eyes. for while she loves her nephew, will always care for him, he could be quite rigid in a way that she never was. " the guards stare at these wall all day, every day. i'm sure they've all thought it far more times than i've said it. " lysara quips in return, eyes narrowing slightly in mild annoyance. she hates keeping up appearances in public, would much rather greet him like an aunt rather than and check in on him properly rather than whatever the hell this is. one eyebrow quirks, and she can't help the upturn of her mouth. " i would advise you spend less time telling me what i should do, and more time actually speaking to your wife. it's been how many months since you've seen each other this time? " she questions, arms crossing as she surveys him in pure exhasperation. raya and aemon were just as stubborn as she and benjen had been, but gods above, at least they had stayed under the same roof. " i think she's missed you. as have i, nephew. "
the Ā amused Ā huff Ā of Ā laughter Ā slips Ā out Ā before Ā she's Ā aware Ā of Ā it, Ā one Ā hand Ā resting Ā gently Ā on Ā the Ā back Ā of Ā her son's Ā neck Ā as Ā she Ā directs Ā him Ā in Ā front Ā of Ā her. Ā ā Ā it Ā is Ā not Ā known Ā for Ā being Ā the Ā most Ā physically Ā appealing. Ā ā Ā light, Ā neutral Ā and Ā could Ā be Ā interpreted Ā as Ā merely Ā fact Ā rather Ā than Ā agreement. Ā if Ā she Ā were Ā in Ā the Ā same Ā position, Ā there Ā would Ā be Ā little Ā niceties Ā that Ā calanthe Ā would Ā make, Ā either. Ā the Ā targaryens Ā would Ā need Ā answer Ā to Ā armies, Ā cut Ā off Ā of Ā trade, Ā the Ā collapse Ā of Ā inflow Ā into Ā king's Ā landing Ā in Ā whole Ā as Ā far Ā as Ā what Ā the Ā hightowers Ā would Ā provide Ā ā Ā but Ā she, perhaps, supposed Ā respect Ā and Ā marital Ā ties Ā meant Ā more Ā to Ā them. Ā Ā Ā Ā
lysara merely hums in response, the corners of her mouth turning upwards in amusement at the response. she settles blue hues on the ruling lady of oldtown, sliding down to her son and offering a soft smile reserves only for children and those she would call family. " you'd think the targaryens would have taken highgarden for their seat when they first assumed power. much prettier. " though she knows that they were hardly a house in search of beauty over intimidation. her gaze rises to meet her own once more. " how are you, lady hightower? i hope you had a less gruelling journey here than most of the northerners. "
The voice drew her attention away from the arriving banners and toward the lord of casterly rock. recognition came quickly after all lord tharion lannister was not a man easily overlooked. for a brief moment surprise flickered across her features before it softened into a polite smile, "lord lannister." inclining her head in greeting olynna folded her hands neatly before her. she had not expected an answer to a thought carelessly spoken into the open air, much less one delivered so readily. still, she supposed she only had herself to blame for that. "forgive me, perhaps the journey has made me less diplomatic than usual." amusement lingered faintly in her voice though it faded somewhat at the mention of her mother but olynna did not look away, nor did she rush to fill the silence that followed. "it has been some time since i was last here," she admitted at last. "and i imagine king's landing feels rather different depending on where one stands." her gaze briefly swept across the courtyard before returning to him. "have you only just arrived yourself, my lord?"
he was a man always looking for opportunity. some time ago, he had been looking at potential betrothals for his siblings, thinking it about time they do their part for house lannister and begun building connections. olynna arryn had been among the list of possibilities given she was a niece of the queen. with the dismissal of her mother as hand though, he doesn't quite know what to do with her anymore. " lady arryn. " he greets in return, a slight nod of his head. he can't quite help the hint of a smirk on his lips at the answer she gives afterward, familiar with people backtracking once they realize they said something they shouldn't. " and are you always quite so diplomatic? " tharion questions, impressed when she doesn't falter under his gaze, doesn't wither. " from where i'm standing, king's landing is quite the sight. " his gaze remains on her as he said it, head nodding a moment later. " a few hours ago, though i've just settled my family in. "
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the red keep seemed to grow more crowded by the hour.
each day brought new banners through the gates, new faces to the halls, and new voices to the endless hum of conversation that echoed throughout the castle. by tomorrow, the celebrations would begin in earnest. today, however, still belonged to arrivals, introductions, and first impressions.
ysara had taken refuge in one of the castle's open courtyards, content to watch the steady flow of nobles and retainers passing through. a goblet rested loosely in one hand as she observed the activity around her, her expression thoughtful rather than distant.
at the sound of someone approaching, she turned and offered a warm smile.
"i was beginning to think i might be the last person in the keep to seek a quiet corner."
there was amusement in her voice as she gestured lightly toward the space beside her.
"i hope your journey was an easy one. tell me, how are you finding king's landing thus far? has the city managed to make a favorable impression, or have the crowds already begun testing your patience?"
he had a goblet of wine held loosely in his grip as he roamed the courtyard, content for the moment to merely observe. he could take in so much more from the outskirts than from the centre of things, watch which houses interacted and which ones stayed away. get a sense of who still was holding favour at court and who seemed to have stayed away. it was equally as interesting to see who arrived to the keep already disgruntled, bothered by the king's summons or the scenery, who could say. all of it was information that tharion tucked away for another time. at the sight of the princess standing alone though, tharion could hardly pass up the opportunity to go talk to her. his smile turns warm in return, entirely genuine for someone of such high standing. " hardly, my princess. sometimes the nobles chatter far too much for my liking. " he sidles up to her side, inclining his goblet towards her before taking a sip. " the kingdom is just as beautiful as it always is, and the journey was very kind āøŗ aside from my son crying each time the carriage hit a dip in the road. " he offers a rueful smile at that, his gaze flicking from the crowd back to her. " i assume it's far harder for you to have so many in your home. i doubt you'll have much peace until we're all on the way home. "
open starter from lady olynna arryn; arriving at kingslanding ā open [ 0/4 ]
The journey south had been long enough that by the time the gates of the red keep finally opened before them olynna found herself slowing almost unconsciously. perhaps it was the realization that nearly every notable noble in the realm would soon be gathered beneath the same roof. the thought was enough to make anyone uneasy. her gaze drifted upward as she crossed into the keep proper, lingering briefly upon crimson walls and familiar towers. king's landing remained much as she remembered it. vast, crowded and alive. yet beneath the movement and excitement surrounding the arrivals she could not quite shake the feeling that everyone had arrived carrying something heavier than their belongings. for a moment she simply watched the endless stream of arrivals passing through the gates, banners from every corner of westeros appearing one after another. "i wonder," she mused aloud, more to herself than anyone in particular, "if anyone is truly looking forward to this." the words escaped accompanied by a quiet laugh. perhaps it was not the safest thought to voice within the red keep but by the time she realized as much, it was already too late.
unlike most of the nobles he's spoken to thus far, excitement brimmed beneath tharion's skin at the thought of the entire realm being under one roof. it was so rare for this many people to be in one place, could only truly be accomplished by the summoning of the monarch. it opened up more opportunity than he could have in just the westerlands, even if his ego would not allow him to admit as such. a final order is murmured to his servant before moving further into the crowd, eyes scanning around in search of anyone worth talking to before settling on one of the arryn daughters. " it's a celebration, lady arryn. what's not to like? " he quips, though he can guess why she may feel the opposite, the scandal of what happened to her mother being news he had delighted in hearing. " though it must be hard for you to be back here. such a pity about your mother losing her position, after all. "
there was a time when coming to the capitol was something she saw as a joyous occasion. a time to see her sisters, to press a kiss to the forehead of each and every niece or nephew she had. she had found it wondrous as a girl, had trailed through the palace like it was the most magical place she would ever see. now, it left a bitter taste in her mouth. reminded her of a sister she had no permissions to see, another that had been publicly insulted. a month on the road just to be confronted with such a reality leaves her simmering anger barely below the surface, arms folded tight across her chest as she looks up at the red keep. " it grows uglier each time i visit. " lysara says it bluntly, scathing, uncaring of who overhears her or what anyone makes of such a comment from the queen's sister.
PHYSICALITY Ā :Ā black hair with a few grey streaks always tied back, scars littering every inch of his body , broad shoulders , 6ā²4 , lean but muscular.
born first of the lannister children,Ā tharionĀ wasĀ alwaysĀ aĀ quietĀ child.Ā noĀ oneĀ reallyĀ knewĀ quiteĀ whatĀ heĀ wasĀ thinkingĀ orĀ feeling,Ā actingĀ moreĀ likeĀ aĀ shadowĀ onĀ theĀ outskirtsĀ ofĀ anyĀ roomĀ thanĀ beingĀ frontĀ andĀ centre. his parents worried for it initially considering he would one day be ruling lord, the centre of any room, and he would need to thrive. failure was not an option.
heĀ tookĀ hisĀ houseĀ andĀ itāsĀ reputationĀ veryĀ seriously.Ā he spent many of his days in meetings with his father, accompanying him on business trips around the region to learn all that was require of the ruling lord of the west. his father ran his region like it was their own little empire, separate of all that happened in the red keep and entirely under his thumb.
he spent much of his youth forming connections with the vessel houses around the west, ensuring that bonds that were already strong, strengthened. that the houses that disliked his own, were made well aware that the power would always lie with him. secrets were threatened if they didn't wish to comply, tharion an unforgiving and unrelenting man when it came to loyalty to his family.
he focussed not only on his political training, but physical as well. he trained with sword and daggers, fists and arrows. the sword would always remain his favourite, and his strongest, although he tends to have at least six daggers strapped to his body at all times. tharion ensured that not only his mind was a weapon, but his body was as well. if there was a battle that needed fighting on behalf of the west or the kingdom, he would happily offer his own armies...in return for favour, of course. he was never one to merely do something out of the kindness of his heart.
had he not been the first born child, he would have been far more interested in being a soldier. in training with the best warriors in the land, in travelling across the sea and fighting alongside the second sons. in another life, that's where he would happily be.
he became very resentful when the reyne liege was chosen for the position on the small council instead of him. it left tharion narrowing his gaze on their house, for while he's certain they can never take back the west, they're becoming too much of a thorn in his side for him to let them linger.
he wonders as well, now that the dragons are gone, if others have started thinking along the same lines as him. without their dragons, the targaryens are just humans, fallen from godhood. and humans bled, died, left a throne up for grabs if tharion could simply play his cards right.
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( daniel henney, 42, he/him, lannister b )Ā āĀ king maelor offers his welcome to ruling lord tharion lannister , of casterly rock. across the realm, they are praised as intelligent and ambitious, though courtly whispers insist they can also be deceptive and brooding behind closed doors. still, their allegiance is said to lie with themself. their presence evokes imagery of a broadsword constantly strapped across his back reminiscent of lions and coin , mouth tugged into a near permanent scowl, humour tugging his lips wide with mirth when something awful occurs, blood coating his hands that only he can see, enough to inspire any storyteller. with so many tales in circulation, separating truth from fiction may prove no easy task. ( lucy, 28, she/her, aest, n/a )Ā Ā
political involvement: never one to make much of a fuss, tharion has always preferred to make moves in the shadows. he's acutely aware of what's going on in the capitol, has carefully placed spies there to ensure that he gathers as much information as possible. he's watching the king's decline carefully, has heard the rumours and whispers, and he plans to take full advantage of that now that he's within the capitol. he plans not only to gain a closeness to the king, but to the heir as well, for he knows that power will change hands eventually and he plans to capitalize on that when it does. it bothers him immensely to watch house reyne on the small council, far more than he will ever let on, and he believes that he is more deserving of that slot. he also can't quite stop thinking about the fact that with the fall of the dragons, what is truly holding the targaryen's upon the throne?
character arc: tharion has always been an ambitious man, was raised to be one from the moment he was born. he takes his house and it's reputation very seriously, determined to uphold their great house's name. he makes sure to have a finger in every pie, spending much of his youth forming connections with his vessel houses and ensuring that not only did he retain their loyalty, but that they knew they could not survive without him. he holds the coin of the region, and he may not boast about it, but he ensured they all knew it. he feels the chafe of not being on the small council, and truthfully he is probably plotting to kill liege reyne and step right into their place. ideally, he would like to wipe out their entire house just to put them in their place. tharion puts his own needs and ambitions above all else, selfish in that way that he's not willing to sacrifice them even for his loved ones. a lot of his friendships are with other ambitious people that can in some way help him on his path to power, their gazes turning towards the throne more often than they used to.
( caitriona balfe, 45, she/her, arryn i + stark b )Ā āĀ king maelor offers his welcome to lady lysara stark nee arryn, of winterfell. across the realm, they are praised as maternal and quick-witted, though courtly whispers insist they can also be stubborn and cold behind closed doors. still, their allegiance is said to lie with their family/the heir. their presence evokes imagery of wine stains on letters home, brutal honesty that pricks at heart strings, furs wrapped around ivory skin replaced with silks of the south, soft smiles only reserved for those she holds dear, burning anger behind blue eyes , enough to inspire any storyteller. with so many tales in circulation, separating truth from fiction may prove no easy task. ( lucy, 28, she/her, aest, n/a )Ā
political involvement: lysara carries herself with a lot of underlying anger at the moment. she took her eldest sister's dismissal from her role as hand as a slight against their house, her lack of faith in the king only further diminishing after discovering that he'd had her sister locked away. she believes that he's completely lost his mind and needs to be removed from the throne permanently. lysara plans on backing the heir in whatever plans they may form. that being said, she does have her hands full already in the north with the troubling weather conditions and the amount of people going missing. her focus upon being in king's landing is trying to secure some alliances that can help feed the people if worst comes to worst. the unrest of hungry people worries her worse than anything else, and she'd do anything for the family she had found in the snow.
character arc: lysara is a prickly woman, not often described as warm or kind by most. she has a fiery temper that's quick to be lit, and her tongue has been known to cut better than a sword. she has very little patience for trivial nonsense considering the amount she has on her plate, though truthfully, patience has always been something she lacked. she does love fiercely though, her older sisters always having been held tightly in her heart even when she made their lives hell. there was some distance for a time when lysara was first married into the north, entirely unwilling and unhappy about the fact before she eventually warmed not only to the region, but also her husband and his family. she has a lot of internal conflict within her about whether to prioritize her sisters and their political position or the north and the threat the weather poses. ideally, she wants to be able to do justice to both, but more than likely she is going to overwhelm herself by taking on far too much.
