#thronesevent04

lost in conversation and sipping from her goblet, amelira could only smile and nod as the other person she spoke to rambled on and on about something she was not being very attentive to. without wanting to be impolite, her eyes scanned those around her, looking for someone that would be able to free her from the one-sided conversation that seemed to be inescapable. 

❝ please, excuse me for a second, ❞ she cut off the man speaking to her and caught eyes with another. ❝ i have been searching the ballroom for you! might i say, you look spectacular! ❞ her voice quickly grew quiet as she began to whisper. ❝ i apologize, i just could not think of another way to escape that monotonous conversation. ❞

             Intoxicated with both wine and happiness the prince was entirely relaxed into his role of main guest of honor. like a social butterfly he made his way from corner to corner of the room, speaking with old and new faces, marrying reila would bring him closer to other regions, as well as his own. it was surprising how many people had wished to see the prince marry once and for all. although as the only male of his family, aside from his infant nephew, it was after all expected of him to continue the targaryen bloodline. he is lost in his thoughts as he shifts and turns, not realizing he would bump into someone by doing so, “my apologies it seems i should watch were i go.”

          the  journey  to  highgarden  was  not  without  grief,  not  the  simple  nor  straightforward  journey  they’d  hoped  it  to  be.  the  bandit  attack  made  tensions  rise  even  farther,  and  while  the  tyrells  arrange  for  their  assailants  to  be  swiftly  taken  care  of,  many  still  reel  from  the  losses  and  injuries  of  their  loved  ones.  the  last  leg  of  the  trip  is  one  made  with  much  haste,  no  one  eager  to  remain  on  the  road  any  longer  than  they  had  to,  and  too  right  they  were  for  that.  what  were  their  options,  after  all  ?  flee  to  their  own  homes  and  be  considered  traitors  to  the  crown,  or  hope  for  safety  in  numbers  during  their  travels  ?  neither  seemed  ideal,  but  if  they  wished  to  have  answers  and  revenge,  they  wouldn’t  get  it  by  making  a  point  of  leaving.

          arriving  to  highgarden,  discussions  immediately  begin  about  the  bandits,  accusations  thrown  and  search  parties  sent  out.  a  little  over  a  week  passes  when  the  dowager  lady  makes  the  announcement,  that  they  will  be  celebrating  not  only  the  engagement  of  her  daughter,  vareena  tyrell  to  matteo  cerwyn,  but  also  that  of  prince  rhaegar  targaryen  to  reila  cerwyn,  after  being  made  aware  of  their  own  engagement.  the  celebrations  be  the  perfect  way  for  their  guests  to  enjoy  all  the  finery  that  highgarden  has  to  offer,  and  will  be  a  great  time  to  strengthen  whatever  political  alliances  may  be  brewing.  now,  more  than  ever,  it  is  important  to  determine  who  is  your  friend,  and  who  is  your  enemy.  admire  the  beauty  of  the  roses,  but  do  not  dare  to  forget  the  thorns  that  lie  beneath.

              The reach had been like a second home to mazhar growing up, the tyrells were near family, even with everything that had down with vareena. the background in fact he feels had influenced the events of their relationship. perhaps if the had not grown together they would’ve not crossed path so easily. shireen on the other hand, their encounter had been sheer luck, and he was not sure what had lure him in first, he’s need to one up another or the darkness of her hair he loved so much. he walks from behind her, recognizing the dress and the colors of his house that sit her so well. he rests his chin on her shoulder holding one of her hands in his and bringing to his lips, his free hand snacking around her waist. “you look extravagant tonight, my dear. the colors suit you.”

                 She’s amused by the celebrations. mostly with how two people from the same house seemed to have found a union in the south. lyarra had a dislike for the place and its people, until she got to see it, to see it. and while she held no love for it, she could not say she hated it anymore. “how amusing is it not, auntie aly, two northerners from the same house marrying people for the south. i suppose now is the best time to create unions and alliances with house that are usually far away.” she says as she scans the room, popping another grape into her mouth as she people watches from her chair. 

avoidance. it was never the solution that amelira would take to for her own matters. though, she could not bear to look at myranda, a face she once cherished and looked for within the masses. their last interactions only concluded with amelira’s own tears, more culpability on herself, and only now the thoughts of what could have been. repressed emotions had been kept in check the moment her family’s travels began and continued into the engagement events, apprehensive to allow anyone insight into her emotions. she knew deep within herself that a glance at her former friend would only prompt those emotions to the surface. 

her eyes flickered around, halting upon the familiar gaze came into contact with. her pale tone that had been washed by her copper-toned hair flushed, her heart telling her to turn around and run—run the other way, avoid the baratheon lady that stood before her. her mind was telling her to stay, her body feeling frozen as if her mind had already made the decision for her. ❝ lady baratheon. what a pleasure it is to see you. ❞ the words stung as she spoke.

                  The youngest tyrell, now lannister, had always had a curious eye for the woman of the iron islands. they all seamed to be made of rock, with an air of power that surrounded them. perhaps it was the fame the islands held, or power of their own, true was she would take any chance to find out. whent he lady of harlaw came to be near her she could not help but strike a conversation. “we have not had the pleasure of interacting much, lady harlaw, if you could give me a moment of your time perhaps we might be able to remedy that.” 

                The lannisport family almost felt as if they were entirely separate from the lannisters of casterly rock, even though they were close cousins. in celebrations like this, however, she tried to make the distance seamed a bit shorter. “good cousin, you seem to be in high spirits tonight, that is quite refreshing to see.” she begins as she approaches the other.  “i heard by word of mouth that the lannisport family had not been injured, i hope i have heard this information correctly.”