βͺ closed starter for mara lannister ( @theygods ), set in the evening of the first day of the headman's tourney, on the way to the melee grounds.
her role had been predetermined since childhood in accordance with the plans of those that had come before her β centuries of inherited grievances that were to be made right in her time, for daenys would not allow it to burden those that would come after her. ( a crown, preferably, though she had begun to warm to the idea of a seat on council and the ear of the monarch, whomsoever they might be. ) such plans had always seemed to be far in her future, for her mother and father both were as healthy as horses, a fact that sometimes grated on her nerves, especially when the yearning to step out from their shadows grew too great to ignore, but the recent loss of cerion lannister had put things into jarring perspective for daenys. it was not that she mourned the man but she considered his eldest daughter to be a trusted friend β someone who was in a similar position to her and who would prove to be a good ally, or so she told herself when they lamented on the struggles of being heir. now, it seemed as though fate had decided that mara would embark on such a future alone, though daenys was quick to slip her slender fingers into her hand, squeezing lightly in greeting as her path to the melee grounds was diverted by the presence of the new ruling lannister. β ... did that feel like justice to you ? β she spoke of the beheading, of course, and of song and dance that will unfold over the next few days. it seemed in poor taste but alester westerling was still hand, so perhaps she should not have expected anything else. β have you come to watch the games ? my brother is participating, naturally. daemian has not found a stick that he does not want to swing yet and i must be there to show my support when he inadvertently wins. unless ... one of your own has entered ? β she would bet on a lannister, even if she had no doubt daemian would emerge as victor.
