#valeurex

the king's words are soft, meant to encourage, filled with a surety that she envies. and yet there is a certain truth to the sentiment, a certain logic that it carries, that is more then a father's attempt to reassure his child set upon an increasingly uncertain path, that there was strategy — a way to move forth that she could hew to. should they underestimate her, it would increase the likelihood that they were never looking in quite the right place to anticipate her strides, for none would think her at all capable of whatever move she might make, and thus, would not be able to mount a proper opposition in time before it was done. yet it was a double edged sword, was it not ? an increasingly difficult hand to play then a straightforward defense ( one needed watch the hand of their opponent, who's gaze sharpened with every other opposite breath, watching in turn with a cold clarity, honed on even the most minute of movements ) as intricate as a needle's thread, with an equal risk for pricking one's finger and drawing blood if one's hands shook. hers had, for years, hers had. no matter how many times she had attempted to listen to the advise of her septa, no matter how much she had tried to focus, fear flooded in an ice like sludge into the young princess' veins, from forearm to wrist to fingers, and her hands continued to tremble, and sometimes they slipped; a bead of blood blossoming on her thumb. now they occupy themselves worrying at a garnet stoned silver ring on her right pointer, it's face cut long, and thin. hands rest carefully in her lap, hidden below the barrier that was the edge of the long wooden table made of dark brown mahogany, her arms are loose, besides - her shoulders seemingly at ease. her eyes find her father's, seemingly noncommital, gaze smooth and hard, impenetrable, deliberately so; so her father did not believe there to be any cause for concern on her account, or worse, perhaps, in her view - that she had begun to doubt him. she nods, a small little rise and fall of the head that allows her to look away for a heartbeat's width, before her chin raises and her stare returns to where it had been. the corners of her lips lifting upward into a grateful half smile.

she wishes she could explain, plainly, that she could speak her fears aloud without the worry that perhaps he might misunderstand. that she might voice her doubts, that she might turn the endless tumult that surged, and surged in her mind, and just below her ribs into sound and syllable, turning the claws that raked nauseatingly, endlessly down her spine into the curvature of letter upon letter, soon enough forming sentences that might make any of it make sense. yet she hardly understood it herself, in truth. and she did not believe that her father would be uncaring to her pain. the opposite, she knew. if he knew, if he could see, even a fraction of what ... he would replace her. he would see it as sufficient reason to take her titles from her and to name her half brother in her stead, and she could not... she would not, allow that. no matter the cost to herself, no matter if she needs must focus endlessly on that sort of existent non existence, when all became the seemingly constant political warring, she would fight. for her mother, and her little brother, and the siblings she had not gotten to meet. the siblings sired for a single purpose, for a true heir borne to king viserys the first. they had been close, once, the two of them. to talk to him had been a simple thing, an easy venture done in the intervals between event, and event, between council meeting and court session. filling the silence that had fallen with details of lessons she had undergone the morn before, or that she would, after her presence was no longer needed at his side. it was a usual sight, to see them together. king viserys and his only living child. his cup bearer and constant companion. but then queen aemma had passed, and then... she had been named heir to the iron throne. the second in its history, and the first officially invested as such. and all had become so terribly complicated, and it had taken her a moon before she had learnt how to shoulder the burden without stumbling whenever she had risen. and then alicent... alicent, and the gap had grown ever larger, and there had been naught to do about beyond it learn to live with the realities and subsequent dangers of it. for if they were not as close as they were, and if now he had another who's thoughts and feelings on the matter that he must needs consider strongly, and whom he must also attempt to prioritize, how can she be sure ?

and even if she could be, how could she ask it of him ? how could she ask him to choose her definitively, when to choose alicent also meant choosing not just one of his other children, but two ? it would be an unjustifiable cruelty to ask a parent to choose between one, and two, and his wife besides. yet all that she might say to him concerns it. all that she might ask for advise on, beyond the simple, surface facts, concerns his lady wife, and thus, she was content to let remain unuttered, lest she wanted to force him into a discussion in which it might be implicatory that his leal lords did not believe his choice well made. that there might well be some avenue with which he might yet change his mind and name her brother in her stead. he could change his mind, she knew, and she would be powerless to stop him. it is not lost on her, how the brunt of her standing lays upon maintaining his good favor. and he never wanted to hear about the conflict that grew more tempestuous by the day between his wife, and daughter, and she did not want to grieve him further, for more then just the sake of her position. she knew well his dislike of conflict. it wore on him, often, and even moreso when it was between those that he cared for. she had never wanted to be such a continued source of it... and yet there was naught to be done about it. there was naught that she could say, beyond relinquishing her own inheritance, and backing the claim of her brother, and yet, even then, she feared that the damage caused might well have already been done. that there would be no rebuilding of what had never been forged between she and her youngest brother, that her sister doubtless scarcely remember when they had been close at all seamlessly. that aegon would be confused, chiefly, of the manner in which she had gradually pulled away from him, bit by bit, not quite as close as they had been when he had been smaller. that he too would not remember a time when she had loved him. when she had been allowed to sit with him, and knock the little wooden dragon very gently against his, to his fascination and subsequent delight. that she would be, ever, and only a threat to what well should've been his. her siblings were so very little, even still. she hadn't the slightest clue whether or no that her father would sire more children with his queen.

what did that matter, in the end ? wish, he repeats in his mind, eyes set to the ground next to the king. having to talk to him on his own was bad enough already, no matter that he could find no argument against it, after what had happened. he cannot look at him, not directly. his words are too kind, all things considered, which makes it worse. he cannot help but miss mother even now, despite how childish it sounds even to himself, even now the minutes away from her feeling multiplied, ten times longer than it has really been. he should not, perhaps, but it'd have been better, had she been there. wishes accounted for naught, in the end. he wished for his father to be alive. he wished for things he could not have , silver hair and for not having gotten up to see what had happened with his brother, to not have unsheathed his knife where he kept it at his hip, to have left it at his bedside table, no matter that he never did. grabbing it had been second nature, hands reaching to shove it with him as he did each time he went anywhere, and yet if he had not, aemond now would ― so what did it matter, what he wished for ? he needs to stop the thought process, a river that he knows can get away from him if he does not dam it in time, and he cannot afford for it now. perhaps later, when he is back with mother, but not now.

What he believes matters little in the changeability of matters. As pertaining to the senses, trust in the eye is a healthy exercise to employ, surely, but a many-angled one. The further it sees, it pays the winding tax of bending to the horizon.

Pain agitates. Otto has yet to see it take the measured hand of forethought prisoner.

- The King’s new cuts make him agitated. Sitting swords with fluency in their tongues asks for an eelness of the sitter that speaks inextricably to his character. Such fluency would require a king worse than this one.

“An astute decision, Your Grace.”

Which good news he dryly nods to the Lord Commander’s next-in-hierarchy, as the Lord Commander himself boasts a variety of limitations concerning principles that have precluded him from this very meeting.

Select ears, this one is understood to go to and but a scrap Handful to feed his Flea Bottom loose mouths. Good news is class-transcendent. A cow herder is as well pleased to keep his head another day unmolten as a Gold Cloak. Exceptionally if they conspired as brothers.

“Though not without its guaranteed oppositors.”

Rhaenys knew what he was doing-trying to bridge the gap that had been put between them the minute the Great Council had made their decision. He had to know that she would not have been here at his coronation banquet if she did not have to be to prevent fueling rumors that a war was coming to Westeros; that the peace their grandsire had protected was about to come crashing down.

Yet Viserys still offered her his hand when the music started up. All eyes were on them, the princess realized, and even though a part of her wanted to spurn him in this moment, she could not. Instead, Rhaenys placed her hand in the new King's offered one and rose to her feet, a smile on her face.

send me a  ✿  and i’ll fill out the template below. bold for things i could definitely see or want, italics for things i could see or am unsure of and striked out for things i don’t want or cannot see.

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /  viserys is the good influence  /  [ your muse ] is the bad influence  /  [ my muse ] is the good influence  /  otto is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other

ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  /  [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  /  [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from my muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from both sides ]  /  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]  /  soulmates  [ literal ]  /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ]  /  cheating [ with your muse ]  /  other 

FAMILIAL.     siblings [ half ]  /  siblings [ step ]  /  [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /  [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /  [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  /  [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /  [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing  /  [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other

SHE HAD BEEN PREOCCUPIED AGAIN, like always. She had often found herself gravitating to things more often than not as of late. Fragments of images come from all sides, promises and warnings. Some were still working on being discerned. None listened.

Time with her Father had been rare. He had his duties, as did she. He had his interests, as did she. None seemed to interweave -- simply continue on parallel. She had done what had been asked and expected without protest, although the isolation had consumed her in full. He had done what had been asked of him as King. Mayhaps that had been the one thing similarly held between them.