☀ ― i fear a cage.

"the king of new valyria is due a conversation regarding the finer details of our agreement. should he remain wishing to make amendments and additions to terms of legitimacy, it will be reciprocated." jaehaerys targaryen was a targaryen, where gold ran through his veins; the gold of oldtown. banking, coin and finance was in his blood, and in his ear through the words of otto hightower for many a decade.

"it is not of my accord to inform an anointed king what can and cannot be done - only to consider what is worth it."

it took one look upon emerald orbs that appeared similar to his own to be able to identify that the shift in her position, the change in her life, had been one which had been turbulent: women were sentimental creatures, and suffered largely as a result of loss and the political cataclysms of shifting allegiance. the lady of golden tooth would continue to mourn that which was now nothing but distant memories of a crimson stain, the lady of golden tooth could continue to look over her shoulder in worry in feeling the walls closing in around her.

but the queen of new valyria, the rightful queen of new valyria, could do no such thing.

it were for that reason tyland lannister did not speak on all that had happened, did not speak on what had reportedly befallen his kin within the land of valyrians. she would need to survive, for once he had settled and supported her as his representative, to pick and support another would only prove his judgement incorrect.

tyland lannister cared for his judgement, for the resounding nature of his voice and his final say - to go back on lenora lefford, would be to go back on himself. that were the only reason he thought he would not do such a thing.

"yes. it is all on you, lenora of house lefford." and that resounding flatness came once again, with a level of certainty it were akin to a final nail of a coffin - she did not need any reassurance, or reminding of the fact it were indeed all on her; but it were. he would not let her forget it, not let her forget the way in which the honour of her brothers and her royal kin remained upon her shoulders.

“thank you.”

lenora thought that was all, but then tyland said something unexpected. so much so that she almost dropped the goblet in her hand. second to his line of authority? lenora was genuinely taken aback at that. her first instinct was to immediately say that she did not wish to be seen as such. the marriage to jaehaerys had never been her ambition, it had not been her idea. there had been no choice involved… except that was not completely true. there had been one. she could have taken her rightful share of the lefford gold, run away in the night and boarded a ship to essos to live out her life there in blessed solitude. she could have found some comfortable house on the southern shore somewhere. lenora could claim she stayed for her family, that she was too dutiful to run from the boon being granted to house lefford. but she knew deep down that was not entirely true either.

she had never sought a royal title, never aspired to be a player on the board like her cousins or brother were, and her mother had been. yet there was some part of her that had grabbed for it, once it was dangled in front of her. a part of her that wanted power that could raise her above most others in all the kingdoms. it was the madness she feared in jaehaerys, not his ambition, not even his cruelty. it was the up and down of finally feeling like she understood him, that there was something to build on, just to have him switch on her. when it came to more queens joining the court, she did fear for her future children, and they were still her chief concern. she saw a thousand ways for it all to end in tragedy. jaehaerys had already lost two sons to murder, why should she believe the child in her belly would not meet the same fate? but despite those worries, there was also a simple answer. she did not want to share her husband. she did not want her title as queen to be watered down, to be reduced to one of several instead of the one and only. lenora wanted to be the queen of new valyria, not a queen. so the protest to his words died in her throat because it felt like a lie.

while she was coming to that realisation, his last words fell upon her with the weight of a boulder. do not fail. lenora knew he was not a man who tolerated failures, but to hear it spoken so plainly still felt different. would he see it as a failure if jaehaerys married again? or would it be enough of a victory to see her son crowned as king? she did not ask. there was already a noose around her neck, there was no reason to tighten it more with expectations set in stone. she gave a small nod to show she understood. a wave of nausea hit her suddenly, and she was unsure if it was the pregnancy, or the realisation that somehow there were more expectations on her than she had realised.

“i hope you enjoy the rest of the festivities tonight, your grace.”

He had happened upon Queen Lenora by chance, really. She was not someone Rhaegar knew beyond tales of the people and watching her from the middle of a crowded room, taking in her demeanor, the way she spoke and moved and carried herself. Tales of her gentle nature and the sorrows that had befallen the Queen carried over the breeze in the market place and all over.

There was no particular need to trace her steps and dive deeply into her daily habits. They resided in the same building. It was new for Rhaegar, that he did not need to seek someone out from the shadows or the darkness and cover of night.

“indeed, we have not. when we first met, i thought you were there to murder my husband.” it was a veiled criticism of how he had decided to make his return to king's landing. lenora still did not understand what the need had been for such an introduction. surely he could simply have shown up at court, but it was clear that rhaegar wanted his return to court to be a quiet affair publicly. that part intrigued her. “i vastly prefer this introduction, your highness, but we are pleased you have returned to us all the same.” her voice was gentle as it often was. she almost always spoke calmly even when she felt far from it.

there was a noticeable frost in the air; and regardless of lenora lefford's sophistication and display of diplomacy in dealing with this member of her court, much was said in the silent body language of the lord of crackclaw point - in the way in which he seemed as though he were untouchable, his gaze holding a sense of disdain and amusement whilst ensuring his lips remained in anything but an upward turn.

she spoke of them sitting on the same council table, and it only left him with more feelings of amusement. if he were drunk, this would no doubt be a far more different situation - thankfully, he had not been in the cups this day. not yet, but perhaps after this conversation. "as your majesty wishes." a slipperiness to his words, that resembled the sound a snake made as it moved. the feeling of it against one's skin, before a hand jumped backward. there remained a paranoid whisper in the back of his mind that he needed to remain careful, and yet, the narcissistic monster that had long since transformed into him knew what he thought of the woman.

were they avoiding one another? it amused him. "i was unaware there was anything that needed to be cleared. i can assure you, should i have known, i would have sought for this conversation much sooner."

of all women, in truth; but what he hated most of all, were women who thought themselves more than what they were. the queen held an almost unlimited amount of power within this room, and there was no denying the fact that maximus himself was not dealing any cards in this situation - he would only need to react to the cards which her majesty had put before him. it seemed as though that were always the way to deal with women, and to get what one wanted from them - regardless of the situation, regardless of context.

make them feel as though their voices had any sort of substance or meaning, before using those very same words to make them choke on it later on down the line.

"annoyed is not the term i would use." he knew what he was doing when he sent away the lannister men during the turbulent time. he knew what he was doing in striking out against what foundation of stability lenora had established for herself; but he would pretend as though the move was anything but personal. "but yes, your grace. it was a relief to know my suspicions and instinct were not paranoia." his answers came blunt, short and curt - even if his voice remained as nonchalant and unbothered as it always was. arrogantly casual.

lenora was pleased when he told her that annoyed was not the word he'd use. she had been hoping he'd say that. she smiled politely as if they were merely chatting about the weather.

“no? what term would you use then, my lord?”

she was playing a dangerous game. she knew he was known for his cunning. jaehaerys had made it clear how smart he was. but she needed to see it for herself, she needed to understand what tricks he might use, how his mind worked. she was not naive, she understood that the problem he posed could not be easily solved. he was never going to directly confess to her, and even if he did, she could not trust that her husband would even believe her. no, what she wanted was something else entirely.

her hazel eyes were studying him intensely as she decided to dig deeper. “i assume you believed my guards from the westerlands to be part of jaehaerys' plans and that they may take up arms against the false queen. that part i can understand, considering your allegiance.” she purposefully did not add 'at the time' to that sentence. lenora was not convinced that lord celtigar was on anyone's side but his own. but she could not fault him for that too much, she supposed, even if she wanted to. she became more and more convinced that it was the only way to be successful at court.

The Dornish War || The Valyrian War

Month 1: The Fall of Alicent

Week 1: Alicent dies in the infirmary, with Doran Uller playing a role in her death to prevent her from leaving the West. Her discovery sparks a series of covert actions.

Week 2: First Minister Baashir Dayne's brother impersonates him to maintain the facade of stability while Lord Baashir Dayne and Armaan Yronwood sneak off to the Crownlands disguised as men of House Marbrand.

Month 2: Chaos in New Valyria and the Marches

Week 1: In New Valyria, chaos erupts as smoke and flames rise, igniting the pit. An explosion occurs, leading to crumbling walls and widespread panic, attributed to Baashir Dayne and Armaan Yronwood. Simultaneously, the keep of Hayford is set ablaze by Lords Dastan Allyrion and Ryon Wyl, who have returned to Dorne with valuable secrets.

Week 2: The Wyl of Wyl returns from the Westerlands, where the fighting intensifies in the Dornish marches. He captures a Dondarrion lord as a hostage, signifying a shift in tactics with intentions to take more captives.

Week 3: Lord Deimos Velaryon also captures a Dayne brother in the Marches, escalating the situation further.

Month 3: Siege and Naval Conflicts

Week 1: Lord Wyl and Fowler manage to break the siege at Nightsong, discovering the young Caron lord dead, though the Caron line persists.

Week 2: The Summer Islanders provide ships to Dorne during their visit. These vessels are utilized to launch an attack on the Weeping Town, unaware that Lord Tarth has been guarding the seas.

Week 3: A naval confrontation ensues as Lord Tarth and forces from Houses Wylde and Swann push back against the Wyl men at sea and in the town.

Week 4: In the Marches, First Minister Baashir Dayne and Lord Armaan Yronwood find themselves engaged in a tough battle against the Unsullied, with both sides stalemated. A temporary lull occurs as Silverwing appears in the sky, prompting the Dornish to retreat underground and conduct night attacks.

Month 4: The Wrath of King Jaehaerys II

Week 1: King Jaehaerys II Targaryen dismounts his dragon, intending to join the fray himself. He rallies his troops, engaging in fierce combat with the Dornish fighters. As the battle intensifies, he signals his dragon to take to the skies for a brief respite, planning for her to fly away and rest before returning.

Week 2: However, as Jaehaerys II fights on the ground, the dragon is forced back into action. She swoops down, unleashing fiery destruction upon the Dornish lines, incinerating clusters of warriors. The Dornish forces are compelled to regroup to prevent the Unsullied from advancing too deeply into their territory.

Week 3: In a desperate countermeasure, a coalition forms among the Dornish leaders. Prince Ravi Martell, First Minister Baashir Dayne, and Lord Doran Uller each oversee the deployment of giant crossbows, known as Scorpions. These massive weapons are strategically positioned to target the dragon as she reigns fire from above.

Week 4: The tension reaches its peak as the battle rages on. As Jaehaerys II’s dragon soars above, the three leaders coordinate their efforts, launching a volley of bolts into the sky. The sound of the Scorpions firing echoes across the plains of Dorne, with each bolt seeking its mark as the Dornish forces hold their breath in anticipation.

Climactic Moment: Suddenly, one of the Scorpion bolts strikes true, finding its target. The dragon emits a deafening roar before plummeting from the sky, engulfed in flames and smoke. Chaos ensues on the battlefield as soldiers scramble in shock. It remains unclear whose bolt delivered the fatal blow—whether it was Prince Ravi's forces, Baashir Dayne's, or Doran Uller's—that finally brought down the beast.

Aftermath: The death of the dragon shifts the tides of battle. Dornish fighters, now emboldened by their victory, push back against the Unsullied, reclaiming lost ground. The atmosphere is charged with a mixture of triumph and sorrow as the Dornish forces honor their fallen while preparing for the challenges that lie ahead, knowing the conflict is far from over.

"we will cut ties with your people should you continue to uphold your lyseni alliance, and continue to trade with them in allowing their spring to further flourish." she did not say husband. she said king - and she spoke as though she were speaking to a child, even syllable slower. as though lenora were dense.

"if you prioritise our alliance, then you will know breaking from the lyseni, even temporarily, is the obvious answer. whether our foe is here, or across the narrow sea, has no relevance. for you to imply otherwise is an insult to the validity of the terms we drafted." she merely held her hands together as she looked over at jaehaerys targaryen's wife. "now that i am aware of your mental limitations and capacity, your husband will be consulted first and foremost moving forward. i am in the habit of saving my time."

and the arrogance paved the way for something far more sinister as lenora lefford spoke of her sons, and made an implicit indication toward her lack of one. there was a flash that danced across her marble features, one of pure emptiness dead behind the eyes; unsettled, uncomfortable - completely devoid of morals. for a moment, she wished to tell lenora lefford she would repeatedly crush her son's heads against the wall until they were nothing but soft mounds of flesh. she had to bite on her tongue there, hard enough it caused blood.

"perhaps it will bring you some comfort in the wake of your embarrassment to know it were you and you alone who no doubt had much to answer for. the high commander has responsibilities too imperative for the likes of this." the more she spoke, the more she found herself truly enjoying the sound of her own voice; knowing that there was a dizzying level of difference between them. lenora lefford evenied her, envied the level of sole power she and she alone held in a sovereign realm; meanwhile she no doubt need wipe the side of her king's mouth with a napkin, and offer to cut his meat for him.

who was she, to speak of her lack of male issue? there was a blinding, white hot fury that seemed to completely come over her in that moment; and when ravella moved, she almost wished to step forward and curl her iron grip around lenora's neck. she wondered how long it would take before someone walked in. lowly girl of golden tooth, known for having a poisoner whore of a mother - such was what happened when those were raised beyond their station. when the lowly thought themselves as more. "you need not explain the vale's line of succession to me. worry about your own that is no doubt cursed to soon become tainted."

there was a beat as the two women locked eyes upon one another. all ravella seemed to see, was the land of the west. and then she spoke.

"...and still, for all my kingdom will gain from the union of my daughter - it is not as much as you shall personally gain from the vale of arryn betrothing a pure blooded princess to your son." she did not even know the boy's name, but she knew he were destined for a dangerous life should his father decide to take other whores to his bed he called wife. if he managed to survive any plots from the other mothers, he would need to survive any attempts from all of his siblings. each and every one.

in her mind, the terrible memories of the journey to storm's end flashed in quick succession, and she knew better than anyone how quickly it could all unravel. how an heir could be turned to ash, how easy a life could be lost. she truly cursed jaehaerys for putting her in this position. he had made her vulnerable to attacks from all sides, happily giving others all the weapons they could possibly wish for to use against her, just so he could bed whoever he wanted while pretending he was not his father. but at least ravella had shown her hand, and it became plain why she had chosen to seek out lenora for this. she wished to use it against her that jaehaerys would likely sire other sons that she could support instead, to make it lenora's personal issue. it only confirmed what she had known all along. the moment jaehaerys married another, her sons and herself would have targets on their backs, and it was all the fault of valyrian hubris, of arrogance. she knew jaehaerys would not want to see his sons dead, but that he truly believed that he could keep them safe despite having already lost a son before.

lenora felt her skin crawl with worry, but she let her face remain neutral. “my son has been publicly named heir to the throne, and he is forged from the alliance between new valyria and the west. he will not be supported by only one royal house, but two. aegor will also be the son of the only queen who will be universally recognised as such. so sure, you can wed your daughter to any son my husband might sire, but if you think he'll be equal to aegor or tybolt, even with your support, then you are mistaken.” she could feel her heart hammering in her chest, now panicked by the thought someone outside new valyria would see the twins harmed. it was not the first time she thought about it, but it was the first time that someone had made any allusions to it. “if there are any threats to my children, i will spend every coin needed to keep them safe, and my house has enough to fund an entire army of mercenaries if need be.” coin could be used for protection, and it could be used to sweep other pieces off of the board. ravella's children were vulnerable too. lenora already knew that she would do what she needed to do. but she could not live her life in fear, cowering at the not so subtle threat that they might back another child of jaehaerys. it would not be the last time someone made such a threat. “i would be careful what you say now, your grace, as threatening the king's heir, his son, in any way is ill-advised.”

"I have never seen such beautiful art beyond the reaches of the Reach." Hugo spoke as he walked over to stand before one of the tapestries. It was a grand display of Vermithor mounted by the last living Dragon King if one ignored those on their stone. And while Hugo did not have a hint of admiration for the man who ruled New Valyria, he appreciated a man of the arts. Or, perhaps, a realm that appreciated the arts. It was what he enjoyed of the Reach, flowery and pompous but brilliant. As brilliant as they were cunning.

"They told she was dead. When I was in the Starry." He remembered when they came to him and informed him she had been murdered by the whore queen, burned or eaten. They did not know, he'd even heard she walked out the window behind his mother. And when he finally saw her, she was running toward him, filthy and weak as he sat upon a horse, regal and then all dismantled as he felt a child once more. And he hated himself for such a weakness.

Would her death free him from the anchor of the past? Was he already lost in this life and perhaps the next? Was he cursed the moment he was born of the greatest sin? Would there be more hope for him were he a bastard? No. He was a Targaryen. A Valyrian. And Valyrians were akin to Gods. Somewhere.

despite her opinion, she listened intently to jaehaerys. there was much she still did not know of him. they had barely spoken before they had wed, before they had spoken their vows in front of the gods. she valued the snippets of his past he gave her. to truly understand someone, you had to know of their past. people were shaped by their history. “you did not deserve that.” her voice was soft, not wanting to intrude on his moment with alicent. it was clear there was softness there. a bad sign if the former queen should live. “it was cruel of them to make you believe you lost grandmother ― especially when you had already lost so much.” like many others, jaehaerys had lost much of his family during the dance. she could sympathise with that. loss was brutal, and continued loss could drive anyone mad. she tried to keep that in mind when his actions frustrated her.

"the same respect you showed the king of the crownlands, stormlands and the stepstones when you ran to the presence of my high commander in an inn of full knights?" it appeared as though there had been some offence taken, somewhere within this conversation. it could hardly be a surprise for a woman as soft as the one sat across from her; finding some personal slight or insult to words that were hardline, and nonchalant.

"i'd expect some gratitude for the way i refused to fan the flames of your husband's ego and make it into more of a matter. instead you offer me a lecture i care little for, and hypotheticals."

the sight of her mother within the halls of the eyrie to visit her niece was one no valeman or woman took kindly to - and it was not long before it was decreed she would not be able to return. "save your parenting for your children and your children alone, lenora lefford. your crown is shared, and can be stretched up the heads of three different women."

because now, there had been offence taken. she half looked at her, in amusement, and in utter contempt and judgement. "are you implying your alliance with the free city of lys is more beneficial to maintain than the one with your neighbouring realm?" her hands rested on the sides of the chair, a slight smile crossing over her features now. this was dangerous.

"jaehaerys targaryen has our support, and the cloaks or quills of valemen do not come near dragonstone. for that, i tell you clearly - we expect your full loyalty."

her gaze remained fixed upon the beautiful features of lenora, and she wondered how long it would be before queendom made her aged. wrinkled. exhausted looking. her tone was laced with feigned disappointment as she looked up and down, letting out a soft sigh as she rose to her feet. there was the sound of a crow cawing beyond the open window, as the skies became darker. "i did not enjoy this conversation - but you would rather me on your side, than supporting something or someone else."

she wondered if ravella's sole goal was to rile her up, so she took a deep breath and spoke calmly. “no, the exact opposite, your grace. i am asking if you think it wise to base our alliance on something beyond the borders of our realm? should the cities in essos be given such influence over an alliance that i see as far above it?” hazel eyes observed the reaction of the other to her words. would ravella be willing to stake an alliance on lys, on braavos? “you are the one giving ultimatums based on alliances outside westeros, outside the one that exists between our kingdoms, and you are the one threatening to withdraw your support.” once again, she wanted to point out that the queen of the vale was speaking to the wrong person. lenora accepted she would have to support jaehaerys, to clean up some of his messes, but she would not take responsibility for an alliance she had no hand in whatsoever. lys was entirely her husband's doing. “i have no control of whether we break off ties to lys or not, which you know perfectly well. this conversation should be between you and my husband, as i've already offered to arrange. but since you've refused that, i will tell his grace of your demands instead, and there is no answer i can give you until i have done so.” she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from offering a scathing reply to the comment about not enjoying the conversation. “i believe that i have been more than gracious despite your many insults.”

ravella mentioned the union of their children, and lenora then saw an opportunity to remind the raven-haired queen that she also got something out of being allied to new valyria. “i will remind you that you have most to gain from that union, which is not yet set in stone.” it was a bargaining chip to be used. “for you, it will be the difference between having two children as monarchs, and an alliance to a powerful kingdom, the one most strategic for the vale, or only having one child who will wear your crown.” once again, lenora was grateful for having been successful in birthing both an heir and a spare for jaehaerys. katherine's words about how every queen who needed to birth an heir would envy her for having twin sons rang in her mind. “aegor could marry any lady or princess, and make her a queen, while your daughter is dependent on my son to become one. only if you should have a son, of course, otherwise she might be forced to become queen in her own right.” it was meant to be a slight dig, she would not deny it. but she knew it was childish. the fact she had conceived three sons in a year had not been her doing. as far as she knew, it was all just chance. a lucky roll of the dice.

she were proud of what the other had made of herself, of what she had endured while her husband was securing his place upon the throne of king's landing. katherine would not ask of the other's journey to her place, not because she weren't curious, but because it simply was not something she need know. the whispers told her enough. moving to sit upon a nearby velvet chair next to the other. "and i am happy for you. two sons." a melodic laugh escaped her. "you are certainly the envy of any woman who must bear heirs." she added in jest, though there still run some truth to the words.

"it was my pleasure, a babe can never be too spoiled. i like to think of it as over-prepared." katherine's poise was straight in her seat, her natural position, as she looked over the two silver-haired boys playing. a chest appeared in front of her as lenora spoke of gifts of her own, and katherine's hands went to her mouth, grin spread widely across his cheeks. "this is too kind of you, lenora." she plucked one lion figures from the chest to examine it further. "i know arthur will cherish these very much." she added.

“i was quite surprised, but i suppose with twin brothers myself, and jaehaerys being a twin too, i should not really have been.”

despite her wish for katherine, lenora herself hoped she could have a little more time without a babe growing in her womb. her old dresses had just started fitting once again, and the last moons of pregnancy had been hard on her body. she was convinced more children would eventually follow, but she wanted more time until then. one of her ladies had said that perhaps she would birth a small army of children for jaehaerys, and lenora could think of nothing worse. she planned to birth enough children for jaehaerys to have his heirs and spares, a princess as well, and then she would have done her duty.

she was satisfied with katherine's reaction to the gifts. part of it was diplomacy, but the animal figures had been a personal gift. not as fancy as the others, but with more thought put into it. lenora always felt a little sad when speaking of her own drawings. luckily, it was rare anyone asked her about it. “i am still impressed you recognised they were mine.” she had not counted on anyone recognising her specific style. drawing had always been something she did for her, not anyone else. “but no, those were old works. sadly, there are not enough hours in a day for creative pursuits, not right now.” there was enough time for her to draw, but not as much time as she needed. if she picked up her paints, her coal pen, she would neglect her other duties. she could trick herself into believing she would not, but she knew that she would. she had already lost her mother and child because she was easily distracted.

but there was no offence in his words, for his friendship with lenora was something time could not touch. they had survived the years unscathed, untarnished by distance or husbands or anything else that commonly signalled the end to the bonds of youth.

he was nodding along, interested to hear more about her renovations, but her words stirred something in his memory. nurseries. and then it hit him, what he had overlooked, what he had forgotten, despite it being evident just to look at him. "oh, gosh, lenora, i am sorry. i had quite forgotten you were with child," he let out a small, embarrassed chuckle. "you have my congratulations." he didn't care much for children, small, dirty, annoying things that they were, but lenora's children felt different. and of course, he knew what had befallen her the last time she had fallen pregnant with one. did that mean she would be making more of a fuss this time around, or less of one?

lenora listened to his ideas thoughtfully. “it functions mostly as refuge for orphaned children and charity for the poor, septas are trained to care for children there as well.” she did not want to change too much as it was a good cause. one worthy of a queen and expectant mother. she simply wished to expand it. “i would like to do something for the widows of the city and their families, a school could fit into that well. it would make it easier for the children to get apprenticeships if they can read and write, right?” she did not actually know how any of it worked, how half-grown children were selected other than being born into it. it had never been a concern of hers. while queen had not been in the cards, she had always expected to marry into a life of comfort and wealth with a keep of her own. noblewomen had no need of learning about how the smallfolk made their coin, how leather was produced, or who build the ships in the harbour. she had been taught to run a keep, not a city. “no, not yet. i am hoping to find some time during the coronation celebrations where we can visit the motherhouse and work on some sketches together.”

"you?" she asked, her hands coming together upon the velvet skirts of her deep navy skirts - almost as black as the night sky itself. "why ever would you arrange the meeting between two sovereigns?" there was a sense of scathing to her tone, and whilst it were not outright insulting, it was enough to lace the conversation with more unease, discomfort and offence. ravella did not once think about that, and the truth were even if she had, she would not care for it.

"i will send for my pages to agree on a mutually suitable audience."

orbs of ice seemed to peer around the entirety of their setting, her head moving in small angles periodically once she had looked at enough; it seemed entirely unnatural of a move, but it never crossed her mind once that she may appear strange. for she was only looking at what it was queen lenora of house lefford had set up for herself on borrowed money; either from the iron bank across the narrow sea, or the bank of her cousins.

"i thought there would be more gold in these apartments, the way tyland lannister has his hand around your husband's throat." there came the sound of jewellery coming against the side of the chair as her hand rested upon it, the other beneath her chin as she merely looked at lenora. pretty, in that way jaehaerys targaryen liked his woman; pale, with golden features and appearing dainty. a westerwoman, was what this queen was: did she wonder why ravella would speak to her considering all that had befallen the two realms?

well, ravella no longer wished to smash her brother's babe against the wall until his brain turned to mush. now, she merely wished to expose him as the son of a bastard - if not a bastard himself.

direct, blunt rudeness was what lenora found herself face to face with: abrasive in the most nonchalant and arrogant of ways, truly believing she were in a position above the other. because of specifics, because of titles; one was a consort, and one was the anointed ruler with the divine right bestowed upon all holy lines. the stability of the vale had all but healed upon her accession to the throne, and it was the greatest sign from above or below that something had been done right.

ravella raised a hand.

"do not try to diminish the tensions between your valyrians and the heathen dornish. do you think us mentally handicapped? the brat threw a mongrel half breed's head at the great whore of dorne, and here you two are, ready to rile up the southern border." she tutted slightly, her back remaining straight - one could expect her to cross her leg, or lean back like a man, but no. she sat rigid, proper; as though she were still a girl balancing books on her head.

lenora's eyes hardened slightly at the challenge she felt ravella presented her, but she did not lose her temper. after giving birth, she had felt more in control of her emotions again. nothing the raven-haired queen said was untrue as such. jaehaerys' actions had been that of the brat prince he had once been, not the king he was supposed to be now. his temper, or madness, had caused him to make a mistake. it had been wholly unnecessary, and now the conflict was affecting others alliances. but despite it being true, she had to say something. the westerlands might be brutal, but there were certain standards of courtesy that were upheld there, and lenora believed that straying from them was a sign of disrespect. she had grown up in a world of brutality hidden behind pretty words. “jaehaerys is the king of the crownlands, stormlands, and the stepstones ― and my husband. no matter your personal opinion of him, he should be treated with respect as a ruler.” of course, it would help if he then did not go around tossing heads at other rulers. it was not only about defending jaehaerys. there was a certain balance that needed to be upheld, a part of that balance was fear. her husband was not well liked, so he needed to inspire fear instead to keep the other kingdoms in check.

her suggestion of opening the floor up to some arguing in the US senate made him chuckle slightly over the top of his whiskey glass, making prolonged eye contact with her.

"see, now that's an idea. forget everything else that needs sorting out. honestly, maybe i would if there wasn't the genuine chance it could result in some firearm being brought into the place." and he listens again as she lists whatever it was she had been up to, there had been a time where she could be heard speaking about how she sought to make a difference. life changes and so do priorities. he once said politics was for people who had no mind of their own, how he thought voting was a waste of time.

"oh yeah? what dream costume would you like to display, if you could manage any of them?" and it truthfully sounded like something he had genuine interest in, and when he was able to speak, he heard it. senator tyrell.

she had already considered which costumes that she wanted to her hands on, so the answer came easily to her. “the dresses from the favourite starring olivia colman.” lenora had talked to the team at the gallery about it for hours on end. “they are so beautiful, and i find the exclusive use of black and white interesting. an exhibition studying the use of contrasts in those costumes would be a dream.” she could already imagine it.

lenora smiled widely and shook her head. “nah, i'm not a jinxer, i'm a good luck charm. so it's fortunate for you that we met tonight.” it was obvious that she was joking though. she had never believed in luck or any of the superstitions that her athlete boyfriends had lived by.

"and saint chapalle, there's a special guided tour you can request. louis ix meant it when he said he would build a home worthy enough to house the holy relics." but that was an enigma in itself, wasn't it? were they genuine?

he was not a quiet man; ever the extrovert, able to switch and adapt situations to sit and converse with whoever it was he needed to. it made him think the silver tongue was a sign this was what he was always supposed to do. he heard his phone vibrate in his pocket the moment she put her phone away, and he only looked at her, as though to confirm he had received it. if only he scrolled further up in their conversation and found their other conversations, discussions and links of what they were doing next week. it never happened.

'i'll let you know, if not you'll need to send me some pictures."

there was a slight beat of silence, and he swirled the whiskey in his cup, leaning forward. he nodded slightly as she spoke, knowing she was being genuine - there was much that needed to be changed in america, but he knew there was only so much he would be able to do. it would take generations, but planting the seeds and growing strong was the beginning.

"honestly, im just sad we don't have the same chaos. the way you lot end up arguing in the house. i'd love to be able to call some people all kind of things." there was an amused tone to his voice now as he looked across at lenora. at the toast, a genuine smile crossed over him.

she was not surprised that he could not commit to anything, both of them rarely did. any plans they have ever made had started with maybes. “perhaps if you do become president, you can open the floor to some arguing.” she chuckled softly at the idea of cedric sitting high in a hall with politicians ripping into each other. lenora had always kept up with politics, believing it to be important to know what was going on, but it was never a world that she had much entry to. she was not a member of the royal family in the traditional sense, but she suspected it would be written about if she took a hard political stance. her cousin would not like it.

when cedric asked about her, she only shrugged. what could compare to trying to become president? “painting, tennis, travelling, watching cars go fast around a track.” then she perked up as she realised he would be interested in her actual work. well, the closest she came to it anyway. “oh, you'll enjoy this. we're starting a new project in the gallery. i don't know if you remember, but i opened one in cannes last year.” it had been a big step for lenora to actually commit to something when it came to work. “we're working with the cannes film festival next year. we're going to display sketches of scenes, beautiful set photography, famous movie costumes.”

there was a possibility he had not yet considered, but as soon as it left his mouth, norbie felt the smile being wiped from his face. he had gone into this with an almost naïve sort of confidence, but now the thought had entered his mind, he just couldn't shake it.

"er - you don't think he will say no, do you?" he asked her, looking to her for reassurance that he didn't realise he needed.

"of course, you'll be part of the wedding if he doesn't say no, won't you? please, lenora. i'm not sure how it all works out with bridemaids and ushers and all that, but i definitely want you and wylliam there with me." that much, he thought, should go without saying, but he gave her the courtesy of refusing anyway. "you must try and look surprised when i tell percy." it wasn't that he thought percival would much care, but he'd rather err on the side of caution anyway.

"well, it seemed like it was important to you. the dog's stomach," he explained, though he wordlessly put his hand in his pocket, pulling out the ring box for lenora to inspect. inside was a slender gold band, studded with small diamonds. "i wasn't sure what to get for a ring either. diamonds are traditional, aren't they? you can't get engaged without diamonds." he scratched his jaw, thoughtfully. "that's about as far as the plans go, to be honest. i'm open to suggestions if you have any."

her next question had his eyebrows raising. norbie wasn't the most observant of men when it came to other people, and what they might be thinking or feeling, but with lenora, it was different. he knew her in a way that ran a little deeper than the way he knew most of his other friends. and to put it bluntly, he had the distinct feeling something was off.

if there was one wedding, she'd be offended to be left out of, then it was norbie and luc's. norbie was her best friend, and she had also grown close with luc throughout the years. she did not care what those stupid accounts on instagram would say about her being in yet another wedding party while not engaged herself. “of course i will, i can even rock a pantsuit if you want.” she looked at the ring with a wide smile. “it's beautiful, norbie.” she gave back the ring box after a while. “you should do what feels right for you. proposals do not have to be something so grand that it feels more like a performance. if i were you, i'd take him to a spot special to you two, somewhere you love. a romantic picnic maybe? get down on your knee, tell him how you feel, and ask him.”

she listened intently to his answer, but it soon became clear to her that it was of no use to her. lenora knew she would be heartbroken if she returned to monaco now without percy. that was not what had her head spinning. it was that when she imagined herself a year from now, she was not sure if she wanted to be where she was now. it was her doubts about the future that poisoned the present. norbie did not want anything else, but lenora knew that she could not say the same. she leaned back in her seat, trying not to let her own doubt show. “you make it sound so simple ― and that's impressive for you, so it must mean that it's right.” she teased him, but norbie would know that she could say the same about herself. she sent him plenty of memes about overthinkers. she was one too, and that was partly why she found herself in this situation.

london town, was what they had always called the city; for it were far more interlinked and small town feeling once one looked beneath the lights and behind the curtains. he himself did not go to london as much as he would admittedly prefer to, considering the upcoming announcement: he could not make his association too strong with his mother's side. the all american golden boy, was his role.

"that makes the two of us. not much reason to venture to london if you're in paris if it's art you want." and it were another slight comment, another hint of awareness that at certain points of the year, she was in france. "seen all of the louvre yet?"

it would take too long, all but impossible; but she could dedicate herself to it and tire herself out to see it all. there was a transformation in the smile that was across from him, going from a smile to a smirk: and it was noted by him. he held her gaze whilst again denying a cigarette, or some weed, or whatever it was they smoked now. not here. never in this crowd.

her focus was soon back on cedric being offered yet another smoke. she wondered if it was someone desperate to talk to him. if so, they'd have to wait their turn. she was enjoying this far too much. “ah yes, i've heard the rumours across the pond.” the rumours of his possible candidacy had been in the news a couple of times. she turned slightly serious. “i admire it greatly, you know, the courage to stand up and let everyone vote for you. the drive to work towards changing things, standing publicly for what you believe in.”

she had thought about putting some of her paintings on exhibition without her name attached. but there was always the fear that her critics would be proved right and that her success was entirely reliant on her name. lenora did not doubt that she was a good painter, but she had no illusions that she was one of the greats. she had even stopped painting for a year after graduating, not wanting to do it any more if she could never be more than good at it. but she eventually missed it too much and started again, this time with her ambitions in check. lenora smiled again and sneakily reached over to steal her sister's half empty glass while she was busy chatting away with someone. she raised it in a toast. “here's to hoping you win.”