#tc.task02

lord jasper redfort of the redfort

ser/ lord jasper redfort spent the last eight months continuously travelling and assisting small folk. mainly spending his time in the vale and in the north. he does leave early to dorne so he and his secret beloved can meet again before dorne. his beleifs conflicting with his heart.

ruling lord and hand of the king loras tyrell of highgarden

loras' life moves on as always. he focuses on his job and spends time with his wife and sons.

ruling lady lilith massey nee blackwood of stonedance

lilith is the shadow of lucifer massey, wherever he goes she goes.

princess viserra of the iron throne

A Letter Unsent – 1st Month Following the Last Event

To my mother,

I stood today at Lady Tully’s funeral and found myself thinking of you in ways I had not allowed in some time. It was not the same. It could never be. 

They mourned her openly. Not without dignity, not without care. There were voices that faltered, hands that lingered, grief that was not so tightly held.

I watched, and I thought of you. Of how quiet it had been, how contained, how nothing slipped, nothing faltered, nothing betrayed the weight of what had been lost. I remember standing there and thinking that I must be doing it right, because no one looked at me twice. Because I gave them nothing to look at, none of us did. I wonder now if that was what you wanted. Absence.

I have tried to recall your face as it was that day, as they asked us to say goodbye. I find that I cannot. I remember every detail that mattered, and many that did not. I remember the room more clearly than I remember you, the arrangement of flowers, the sound of voices lowered to something polite and distant. I do not remember mourning you I remember the way I held myself so carefully, so deliberately, that there was no room left for anything else. Not even you. I was aware of myself, not of you. Though I do not know if there is a difference. I think that is what I resent most. I think you would have been satisfied.

They spoke of Lady Tully today as though she had been loved. Not as a duty, not as something to be performed, but as something that had existed freely, without needing to be measured or restrained. I do not know if anyone would speak of you that way. I do not know if I would.

She was given to the river, and it received her gently. It was, by all accounts, a beautiful ceremony.

Your daughter,

Rosalyn

A Letter Unsent – 3rd Month Following the Last Event

To my mother,

The North is colder than I expected. Not only in climate, though that is certainly true, but in the way things are done. There is less pretense here, less effort to soften what is plainly visible.

Gyles is married.

I write the words and find they do not sit comfortably, though I cannot say why without sounding unreasonable. The match is suitable, by all outward measures. Advantageous, perhaps. Acceptable.

I do not think you would approve of his new husband, though, you would find him repulsive, as I do. Though, to be fair, I do not believe you approved of many. Perhaps you and him would bond over your mutual dislike for people.

He had another option. A better one, by any standard I can name without inviting argument. Kinder. Safer. Easier to understand. He did not choose it. You know Gyles, of course he did not.

I stood beside him. I spoke as I was expected to. I smiled where it was required. I did not ask the questions that pressed at the edge of my thoughts, because they would have been improper, and because I already knew I would not receive an answer that would change anything. I think I did well.

Either way Gyles Lord Bolton is not of my House Tyrell’s concern anymore.

I watched him today. There was no hesitation in him. No visible doubt. Only a kind of resolve that I do not know how to interpret. I do not know if that should reassure me or not. It does not. Perhaps you would be proud of him.

He does not talk to Azalea anymore. In truth, she does not talk to any of our siblings anymore, but she still does write to me. I do not understand why. 

She said we were cursed once, not long ago. I dismissed it, as I was meant to. Corrected her, even. I told her we were not. I believed it then, I am less certain now. There is something in this family She has been travelling. I do not know if she will return. I do not know what are Loras’ thoughts on it, or on anything. I do not know where he is heading. I did not want to I wanted to I could not I did not do anything to stop any of them from leaving, there was nothing I could have done. Now I am alone. 

You would say that restraint preserves what might otherwise be broken. I am beginning to think it simply leaves things to decay on their own.

Your daughter, 

Rosalyn

A Letter Unsent – 8th Month Following the Last Event

To my mother,

Dorne does not allow for the same kind of distance. There is nowhere to hide from the sun here. No quiet corners where one might observe without being observed in turn. Everything is exposed, in ways I do not think I was prepared for.

Princess Viserra carries herself as she usually does. The Martells receive us with courtesy. The court functions as it should. And yet there is something beneath it. Not spoken. Not acknowledged. But present. It lingers in the way conversations pause when we enter a room. In the way servants hesitate just slightly before addressing us. 

It is clear by the way some look at her. They do not approve. And, as an extension of her, I am included in that disapproval, whether I have earned it or not.

I have been trying not to add to her burdens. Keeping to myself, withdrawing where I can, trying to disappear when I am not needed. I have had time to think here. Too much, perhaps.

There are no distractions that do not feel deliberate. No obligations that fully occupy the mind. Only long stretches of time, and the quiet insistence of one’s own thoughts returning, again and again, until they are acknowledged.

The dunes shift constantly, even when there is no wind. I have watched them for longer than I care to admit. The way they change shape without effort, without intention, simply because they are not fixed in place.

I do not think I have ever allowed myself that same freedom. I do not know if I would recognize myself if I did. I do not know if you would. I do not know which of those concerns me more.

I have had the opportunity to reconsider myself, as I intended. I have looked back at what I have done, at what I have not done, at the spaces between the two, trying to understand whether I am as you intended me to be.

Clarity, I am learning, is not always a comfort. Still, I find I am not undone by it. You taught me long ago how to endure what offers no relief.

Your daughter,

Mistress of Coin Report – 1st Month Following the Last Event

The transition of authority within the Riverlands has proceeded without disruption. Lady Tully’s heir has assumed control efficiently, with no recorded resistance from bannermen or smallfolk. Confidence in House Tully remains intact. Revenue collection is projected to continue without interruption.

The Crown has enacted full punitive measures against the house deemed responsible for Lady Tully’s death. Said house has been extinguished, its lands and holdings reassigned to House Tully. This redistribution strengthens House Tully’s regional position and compensates for immediate losses.

The Crown’s response has reinforced its authority and demonstrated its capacity for decisive action. However, the scale of the response may introduce longer-term considerations. The destruction of an entire house, while effective in the immediate sense, alters the balance of perception among other noble families.

Recommendations

➛ Maintain support for House Tully during consolidation

➛ Avoid further large-scale punitive displays in the near term

➛ Monitor noble sentiment regarding Crown escalation

Private Annotation

Decisive is one word for it. Excessive is another.

Annihilating a house may silence a single offense, but it teaches the realm a far more dangerous lesson: that punishment is not measured, only performed. Fear is useful. Indiscriminate force is not. It breeds quiet calculations.

The Riverlands will accept the gift. May it be called a gift?  Others will remember the precedent.

The Crown has shown strength foolishly unmistakably, yes, but not restraint. That absence is rarely without cost.

Mistress of Coin Report – 4th Month Following the Last Event

Crown revenues remain stable. Adjustments to regional taxation have been implemented as scheduled, with minimal resistance recorded.

Particular attention has been given to the Iron Islands. Ongoing negotiations with Ironborn representatives suggest partial compliance. Their contributions remain inconsistent, though not openly contested. Collection is expected to proceed, with or without cooperation.

Trade flow has normalized across all major routes. No significant disruptions reported.

The realm has absorbed recent events with little outward instability. The Crown’s position remains secure. Noble houses appear inclined toward caution rather than opposition.

Recommendations

➛ Maintain current taxation policies

➛ Monitor Ironborn compliance closely

➛ Avoid unnecessary strain on recently stabilized regions

Private Annotation 

“Partial compliance” is a generous phrasing for what amounts to selective obedience. The Ironborn mistake tolerance for incapacity. They pay when it suits them and posture when it does not. This is not negotiation, it is indulgence dressed as diplomacy.

They will comply, eventually. Whether willingly is irrelevant. I hope it is unwillingly.

 Not from loyalty, nor agreement, but because systems that do not bend toward them will outlast them.

If left unchecked, however, they will continue to test the boundary—not because they can win, but because no one has yet made the cost of losing sufficiently unpleasant.

Mistress of Coin Report – 8th Month Following the Last Event

Increased importation has been authorized in preparation for the upcoming royal wedding. Goods include luxury textiles, rare spices, ornamental materials, and specialty consumables from southern and eastern markets. Trade activity has risen accordingly, with projected long-term benefits to Crown revenue through expanded exchange networks.

Expenditures have increased significantly due to ceremonial requirements and diplomatic expectations. Current treasury reserves remain sufficient to sustain projected costs.

Spending remains within acceptable limits for an event of this scale.

The wedding serves not only as a political union but as a demonstration of Crown prosperity and reach.

If executed correctly, the return, both economic and political, will justify the expense.

No irregularities to report.

Recommendations

➛ Continue controlled importation to avoid unnecessary surplus

➛ Ensure expenditures remain proportionate to projected diplomatic gain

➛ Prioritize long-term trade relationships over short-term display

Private Annotation

Predictably excessive.

The Crown invests heavily in spectacle, as though opulence might reinforce legitimacy. It may, in the short term. Long term, it invites comparison—and comparison invites scrutiny.

Still, the machinery functions. That is what matters.

Among the imports, a shipment of tea from the east proved… unexpectedly worthwhile. Unremarkable in description. Exceptional in quality. A small indulgence, and a rare one.

Journal Entry – 1st Month Following the Last Event

I had forgotten how different the world looks beyond the Vale.

The air here is heavier. Warmer, certainly, but also fuller. There is always movement, servants, banners, people speaking as though they expect to be heard. The Eyrie feels quieter in comparison. Cleaner. Or perhaps simply more restrained.

Riverrun is not as refined as I imagined, though it is not without its charms. The rivers are pleasant to look at, though I cannot decide if I prefer them to the mountains. They feel… less certain. Always moving.

The funeral was– I am not sure what word is appropriate. Large. Loud, in a way mourning should not be. But perhaps that is unkind. Lady Danelle was clearly loved. That much is undeniable. There is something unsettling about seeing grief shared so openly. At the Eyrie, it is quieter. Contained.

My family has been… themselves, mostly.

Aemma is betrothed. She does not want it. That much is obvious, even when she does not say it directly. I am not certain what she expects instead. It is not as though we are afforded infinite choice in such matters. Still, I understand it, I think. Wanting something else. Even if one knows better.

Aenar is not here– he is, but it seems like he is not. I suppose that is unsurprising. Riverrun has always meant more to him than it does to me.

Sharra. We have been trading letters. I hope we come to learn how to speak to each other when I return.

I brought my sketchbook. There is much to capture here. People are easier to draw when they do not realize they are being observed.

I think I prefer that.

Journal Entry – 5th Month Following the Last Event

The Eyrie feels smaller than I remember. Not physically, of course. That would be absurd. But something in it has shifted. Or perhaps it is simply that we have.

My uncle is married. I do not yet know what to make of her. That is not a criticism. It is simply… incomplete information. She has not given me reason to distrust her, but neither has she given me reason not to.

Everyone seems to be waiting. For something. I cannot determine what.

Everything feels slightly out of place, like a drawing where the proportions are almost correct, but not quite. Enough that you cannot ignore it, but not enough to know how to fix it easily. I do not like it.

The halls feel… off. Conversations stop too quickly. People watch each other more closely than before. Even the servants seem to move more carefully, as though something fragile has been placed in the center of everything and no one wishes to be the one to break it.

I find myself doing the same.

I have been painting less, though I am not sure why. Perhaps I will return to it tomorrow.

Journal Entry – 8th Month Following the Last Event

We are to leave soon. Dorne. I have tried to imagine it properly, but everything I know feels insufficient. Heat, color, open spaces—none of it resembles the Vale. I do not think I will mind that.

There is something appealing about going somewhere entirely unfamiliar. No expectations to meet beyond the obvious ones. No habits already formed.

The wedding preparations have been… extensive. Excessive, perhaps, but not unpleasant. There is a certain logic to it all – movement, planning, arrangement. It makes sense in a way people often do not.

I find I am looking forward to it. Not only the event itself, though that will be interesting enough, but the leaving. The Eyrie has felt… difficult, of late. Perhaps distance will make things clearer. It often does. Things will arrange themselves. They must.