[RPG • 100] House of the Dragon| Speeltopic - Speeltopics

27 juli 2024 - 15:38 malinin is online

malinin 1640

HOUSE
^{^{𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓}}

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praattopic • praattopic II • praattopic III
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praattopic VII
speeltopic I
Map of King's Landing

Storyline

King's Landing is sinds Aegon's Verovering het centrum van de macht in Westeros. De jonge Targaryen koning Aegon the Conqueror veroverde Westeros samen met zijn queen-sisters en hun draken. Nu heersen zij vanuit de hoofdstad over het continent. Aan het hof van de Targaryen's verblijven de machtigste adelijken van het land, samen met hun hofhouding.

Nu, één jaar na de verovering van heel Westeros, is de grote zaal van de Red Keep rijk versierd met Targaryen-banners, drakenmotieven en weelderige bloemstukken. De zaal wordt gevuld met muziek terwijl adellijke families samenkomen om de eenwording van Westeros onder Targaryen-heerschappij te vieren. Ter ere van het éénjarig jubileum van Aegon's Verovering wordt een debutantenbal georganiseerd. Dit bal dient als een gelegenheid om huwbare edelen te presenteren voor potentiële huwelijken, waarmee allianties worden gesmeed en de stabiliteit van het nieuwe rijk wordt versterkt.

Regels van het Hof

Deze regels helpen om de orde, respect en veiligheid binnen het Targaryen hof te handhaven en zorgen ervoor dat het hofleven soepel en volgens protocol verloopt:

Basisinformatie

Deze RPG speelt zich af aan het hof in King's Landing, ongeveer 300 jaar voor de gebeurtenissen in "House of the Dragon".

Situatie voor Aegon's Vervovering - De Zeven Regerende Families

Vóór Aegon's Verovering (ook bekend als Aegon's Conquest) waren er verschillende grote huizen die over de Zeven Koninkrijken van Westeros heersten. Elke regio had zijn eigen heersende huis:

• Kingdom of the North (Het Noorden) - Het Huis Stark regeerde als koningen van het Noorden vanuit Winterfell.
• Kingdom of the Mountain and the Vale (De Vale) - Het Huis Arryn heerste over de Vale van Arryn.
• Kingdom of the Isles and Rivers (De Rivierenlanden) - Het Huis Hoare (House Hoare) regeerde over de Rivierenlanden vanuit Harrenhal.
• Kingdom of the Rock (De Westlanden) - Het Huis Lannister was het heersende huis in de Westlanden vanuit Casterly Rock.
• Kingdom of the Stormlands (De Stormlanden) - Het Huis Durrandon regeerde over de Stormlanden vanuit Storm's End.
• Kingdom of the Reach (Het Bereik) - Het Huis Gardener was de heersende dynastie in het Bereik vanuit Highgarden.
• Princedom of Dorne (Dorne) - Dorne werd geregeerd door verschillende vorstenhuizen, zoals het Huis Martell vanuit Sunspear.

Situatie na Aegon's Vervovering - Targaryen heerschappij

Na Aegon's Conquest waren er geen onafhankelijke koningen meer in de Zeven Koninkrijken van Westeros. Na Aegon's Conquest werden alle eerdere koninkrijken verenigd onder de heerschappij van de Targaryens. De titels van koning werden afgeschaft voor alle regionale heersers behalve voor de koning op de IJzeren Troon, dat is Aegon momenteel. Hij heert samen met zijn twee sisterqueens Visenya and Rhaenys. ~~Ja ze zijn siblings en met elkaar getrouwd.~~ De oude regionale heersers dienden als leenmannen van de Targaryen-koningen. De belangrijkste leenmannen van Aegon de Veroveraar waren:

• House Stark - Lords van Winterfell en het Noorden.
• House Arryn - Lords van de Vale van Arryn.
• House Lannister - Lords van Casterly Rock en de Westlanden.
• House Baratheon - Lords van Storm's End en de Stormlanden.
• House Gardener - Lords van Highgarden en het Bereik (voor hun ondergang in de Field of Fire).
• House Martell - Lords van Sunspear en Dorne (na hun vredige overgave).

Deze huizen, samen met andere regionale heersers, erkenden Aegon als hun koning nadat hij met zijn draken en legers Westeros had veroverd. Ze behielden een mate van autonomie in hun respectievelijke regio's, maar waren verplicht om Aegon te dienen en belastingen en troepen bij te dragen wanneer dat nodig was.

Personages

Rollen kunnen een highborn of een lowborn inwoner van King's Landing zijn. Ze kunnen zowel uit Westeros als Essos afkomstig zijn, al zullen de meeste leden van het hof afkomstig zijn uit Westeros.

High borns

Als hooggeborene ben je een lid van de adel en speel je een belangrijke rol aan het hof. Je kan een lid zijn van de Targaryen familie of een van de andere adelijke families in Westeros. Je kunt, maar dat hoeft niet, een van de volgende posities bekleden:

• ~~Hand van de Koning~~ - De belangrijkste adviseur en rechterhand van de koning, beheert de dagelijkse zaken van het koninkrijk.
• ~~Meester van de Wetten~~ - Toezicht op de handhaving van wetten en het beheer van gerechtigheid.
• Meester van de Munt - Beheert de financiën en schatkist van het koninkrijk, zorgt voor economische stabiliteit.
• Meester van Schepen - Verantwoordelijk voor de koninklijke marine en de verdediging van de kustlijnen van het koninkrijk.
• ~~Meester van Whisperers~~ - Verantwoordelijk voor inlichtingen en spionage, verzamelt informatie ter bescherming van het rijk.
• Lord Commander van de Kingsguard - Leidt de elite Kingsguard, zorgt voor de veiligheid van de koninklijke familie.
• Hoge Septoon - De hoogste religieuze figuur, biedt spirituele leiding en houdt toezicht op religieuze ceremonies.
• Warden - Adellijke heren die verantwoordelijk zijn voor de veiligheid en het beheer van specifieke regio's (~~Noord~~, Oost, Zuid, West).
• Hofdames - Adellijke vrouwen die de koningin en prinsessen dienen, hen assisteren met verschillende taken en gezelschap bieden.

Invullijstje High borns

Low borns

De Low borns werken aan het hof. Zij zijn niet afkomstig uit een adellijke familie, maar kunnen wel bastaarden van die families zijn. Alle low borns in de rpg moeten een baan hebben aan het hof, deze banen zijn :

• Drakenhouders - Verzorgen en beheren de draken van de Targaryens. [2/2]
• Rentmeesters - Verantwoordelijk voor het beheer van het huishouden, het toezicht op de voorraden en het coördineren van dagelijkse activiteiten. [0/2]
• Kamermeisjes/Kamerdienaars - Verzorging van de persoonlijke behoeften van edelen, zoals het schoonmaken van kamers, het voorbereiden van kleding en helpen met aankleden. [1/2]
• Keukenpersoneel - Koks, bakkers en assistenten die maaltijden bereiden voor het hof. [0/2]
• Staljongens - Verzorgen de paarden en onderhouden de stallen, zorgen ervoor dat de rijdieren klaar zijn voor reizen en evenementen. [0/2]
• Wachters/Schutters - Zorgen voor de beveiliging van het kasteel en zijn inwoners, bewaken ingangen en patrouilleren over het terrein. [0/2]
• Boodschappers/Koeriers - Brengen berichten binnen het kasteel en naar nabijgelegen locaties, zorgen voor soepele communicatie. [0/2]
• Entertainers - Muzikanten, dansers en narren die optreden voor het hof tijdens evenementen en bijeenkomsten. [1/2]

Invullijstje Low borns

Rollen

Highborns
- Visenya Targaryen| F | House Targaryen | Master of Laws | 22 | Faceclaim | ziggystardust
- Valerion Targaryen| M | House Targaryen | The Spare Prince of the Seven Kingdoms | 22 | Faceclaim | ziggystardust
- Aelor Targaryen| M | House Targaryen | The Spare Prince of the Seven Kingdoms | 24 | Faceclaim | Hennessy
- Domeric Bolton| M | House Bolton | 33 | Aaron Taylor Johnson| ziggystardust
- Cedrick Stark| M | House Stark | 30 | Warden of the North | Faceclaim | lustforlife
- Celia Lannister| F | House Lannister | 21 | Sydney Sweeney| lustforlife
- ~~Qhomir Hoare~~ Aeron Greyjoy | M | House Greyjoy | 31 | Manny Jacinto | Hennessy
- Nashayana Hightower| F | House Hightower | 22 | FC| albono
- Haelle Bolton ~~Manderly~~| F | House Bolton | 25 | FC| albono
- NAME HOUSE| F/M | House Frey| 00 | FC| lustforlife
- NAME HOUSE| F/M| House Umber | 00 | FC| ziggystardust

Lowborns
- Lethia| F | Court Musician| Aubri Ibrag| albono
- Kiren 'Ren' Celtigar Waters | F | Bastard of House Celtigar | Dragonkeeper | 23 | Mia Goth| Hennessy
- Rhaegar Waters| M | Bastard of House Targaryen | 24 | Faceclaim | albono
- Pyotr Baelish| M | House Baelish| 25 | FC| ziggystardust

Inactief
- Emrys Dayne | T | House Dayne | 29 | Vico Ortiz | Hennessy
- Doran Sand| M | Bastard from Dorne | Damiano David| ziggystardust
- Nehemia Martell| F | House Martell | 20 | Bruna Marquezine| captainlee

Timeline of Westeros

Relationships

-31 AC
• Birth of Domeric Bolton

-30 AC
• Birth of Cedrick Stark
• Birth of Qhomir Hoare

-26 AC
• Birth of Pyotr Baelish

-24 AC
• Birth of Haelle Manderly
• Birth of Ylva of the Snowshade

-23 AC
• Birth of Rhaegar (bastard of house Targaryen and house Velaryon )
• Birth of Aelor and Elaena Targaryen
• Birth of Lethia Solani
• Birth of Sivga Umber

-22 AC
• Birth of Kiren Waters ( Bastard of House Celtigar of Claw Isle)

-21 AC
• Birth of Visenya Targaryen
• Birth of Valerion Targaryen
• Birth of Nashayana Hightower
• Birth of Serra Frey

-20 AC
• The Targaryen Conquest of Westeros Begins[/b]: Aegon I Targaryen, along with his sisters Rhaenys and Visenya, begins his campaign to conquer the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. The Targaryen dynasty’s control of the Iron Throne will be established through this conquest, which includes battles, diplomacy, and strategic marriages.
• Birth of Celia Lannister

-19 AC
• Rhaegar claims a dragon (age 4)

-16 AC
• Qhomir gets a new name, Aeron.

-15 AC
• The Fall of House Gardener and the First Battle of the Conquest: The Targaryens defeat House Gardener of the Reach at the Battle of the Field of Fire. This battle marks a significant victory, and House Gardener falls, with the Reach being incorporated into Targaryen rule.

-14 AC
• Kiren moves to Dragonstone

-10 AC
• The Conquest Continues: The Targaryen forces continue their conquest, facing resistance from various houses, including House Stark and House Arryn. However, the Targaryens’ superior forces and dragons give them a significant advantage.

-9
• Pyotr enrolled in the Citadel.

- 6 AC
• Engagement Elaena (17) and Valerion (15) Targaryen
• Kiren (17) and Eleana (17) make plans to run away together.
• Princess Elaena’s death
• Marriage between Haelle and Domeric Bolton

-5 AC
• The Unification of the Seven Kingdoms: After multiple battles and strategic marriages, Aegon the Conqueror successfully unites the Seven Kingdoms under his rule, establishing the Targaryen dynasty on the Iron Throne.
-4 AC
• Celia’s fiancée, the heir of House Durrandon is killed by Orys Baratheon him during the conquest and took over the Storm Lands.

-3 AC
• Death of Lord Baelish
• Serra got engaged to Othgar Hoare
• Cedrick became Lord of Winterfell. His family was murderd by House Bolton ( Torrhen, Brannon and Cregan) were killed.
-2 AC
• the entire Hoare-family was murdered after Lord Harren refused to bend the knee. Aegon burned them all by flying over Harrenhal with his dragon. (Qhomir’s family and Serra’s fiancée die)
• Haelle gets abducted.

-1 AC
• Pyotr joined the Kings Guard
• Maisie, daughter of Haelle, is born.

0 AC
• Aegon I’s Coronation: Aegon I Targaryen is crowned as the first King of the Seven Kingdoms at a grand ceremony in Oldtown, marking the official beginning of Targaryen rule in Westeros. The Seven Kingdoms are now united under the Iron Throne.
• Letha moved to King’s Landing

1 AC - Current year
• Targaryen Reign Solidified: Following his coronation, Aegon consolidates his rule and begins the rebuilding of the realm. The Iron Throne becomes a symbol of his authority, and his rule marks the beginning of the Targaryen dynasty’s long reign over Westeros.

Regels van de RPG

• Het woordenminimum is 100 woorden.
• De huisregels van Quizlet en daarbij in het bijzonder het RPG-forum gelden uiteraard ook hier.
• 16+ is toegestaan, maar gelieve hier wel voor te waarschuwen zodat anderen het kunnen mijden als zij het liever niet lezen.
• Bespreek gevoelige onderwerpen op voorhand met je schrijfpartner.
• Als eternalsunshine niet online is, maakt de laatste die reageert een nieuw topic.
• Maximaal 3 characters per schrijver.
• Als ik 21 dagen niets van je hoor, stuur ik je een reminder PB.
• Als je 45 dagen niets post, wordt je char opgeofferd in een blood sacrifice.
• Reserveringen blijven 10 dagen staan.

When a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin.
One side greatness, the other madness.

[ bericht aangepast op 13 april 2025 - 21:14 ]

always keep the picnic blankets in the back

24 juni 2025 - 0:21 lustforlife is offline

lustforlife 1776

_{_{CELIA LANNISTER}}
THE LION'S PRIDE

Lady Celia Lannister of Casterly Rock • The Golden Daughter • 22 • in a crimson red gown with details of gold • with Valerion • in the lowercity

Her golden locks sparkled like a bright morning sun, while Valerion Targaryen twirled her around the room. Candle light illuminated the suite, just bright enough to make out ones features standing close. The air around them loose, not proper, chaotic and yet she felt perfectly fine. Valerion's usual crew decorated the edges of the room. Good, she wanted whispers of this night with the prince to reach the court, to reach his siblings. Three days. It had been three days since Dragon Hatching Day. Yet, she'd barely seen a glimpse of Aelor or Visenya Targaryen. Small smiles and quick conversations the only response she had gotten after offering them her support. A gnawing feeling had haunted her and the thought that she'd misplaced her attention grew bigger and bigger. So, she'd also offered Valerion Targaryen her support and unlike his siblings he immediately had acted on it. She hadn't been pleased to say the least, when he had dragged her into the lower city. She'd pinched her nose tightly while crossing the dirty streets and given him multiple pointed looks when they walked passed brothels, but never really protested. She knew she needed to make some sacrifices for the bigger picture here.

A flying grape found its way into the open mouth of the loudly snoring Lord Massey. He startled, whilst the drunk Velaryon twins cheered. Celia laughed out loud. The sound of it a rare thing. Maybe it were the few goblets of wine she'd had. Or maybe it was the way Valerion Targaryen moved her around the room like she was a feather, but since a long time Celia Lannister felt light. Yes, this was a game and yes, he was just a pawn, but she could still have fun.
The prince dipped her. His hold on her firm. His purple eyes full of determination and in that vague candle light, she saw a glimpse of the king he could be. His attitude at court a weak portrayal of the abundance of charm and confidence radiating off him, here in the lower city.
The prince lowered his head towards hers.
“Tell me this is way better than the boring court parties my sister orchestrates," the words a whisper in her ear. “And don’t you dare lie to me.”
With ease he brought them back up and they started moving again. "Well..." Celia started, her voice coated with thoughtfulness. "I have seen better food arrangements," her eyes dartled towards the display of different kinds of cheese and meat spread out on a small wooden table in a forgotten corner, now feasted on by mice.
Her eyes slowly moved back to his.
"But I must say, the drinks are above expectation and as far as the company is concerned," her fingertips grazed across the small amount of bare skin his undone shirt was showing. "It's outstanding." The right corner of her mouth curled up.
"You certainly know your way with women. The unfaltering attention is the best I've ever had." She stared at him for a moment, then slowly brought her lips towards his ear.
"So, what do you think, prince? A lie or a truth? Or does it not matter?"

HEAR ME ROAR

[ bericht aangepast op 24 juni 2025 - 0:40 ]

let the fears you have fall away

9 sep 2025 - 15:12 malinin is online

malinin 1640

Valerion
^{^{of the House Targaryen

The Spare}}

“Oh please, is this food not good enough for you? Now I’ll have to take you out for a proper feast. One without mice stealing the best parts.” He grinned.
Then her fingers slid across the skin revealed by his undone shirt. His eyes fell there, on her hand, and for a moment the laughter dimmed. Celia Lannister was a good liar. And he couldn’t decide if she spoke truth now, or if she was feeding him lines for her own game. Most men would drink up her lies for even a glimpse of hope that a woman like her could want them. But Valerion wasn't sure he was one of those men himself.
“I hope it’s a lie,” he murmured, “and that you’re treated better than this. Better than being dragged through the lower city by your usual companions.”
He searched her face, holding her close.“Tell me, Celia… who are these men that let you down so badly?”

A Targaryen all alone in the world
is a terrible thing

always keep the picnic blankets in the back

28 jan 2026 - 16:13 malinin is online

malinin 1640

The Calm After the Fire
^{^{𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕿𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖞 𝕲𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖘}}

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The Calm After the Fire

Date: Twentieth day of the sixth moon, Year 1 AC
Time: 9:03 PM
Temperature: 18°C
Location: The Royal Tourney Grounds, one day’s ride from King’s Landing
Weather: Clear skies, cool summer night, a steady breeze carrying torch-smoke and music

Description of the Evening
A day’s hard ride has carried the court away from the scorched skyline of King’s Landing.
The smoke of the great fire no longer darkens the horizon, but its shadow still lingers in conversations and guarded looks.

The tourney grounds rise like a city of canvas and firelight.
Hundreds of tents stretch across the open fields, silk, leather, and bright banners snapping in the wind. Each great house has claimed its space, marked by sigils and colors, guarded by sworn swords and bustling with servants. At the center stands the grand lists: freshly packed earth, polished wooden barriers, and tall stands draped in royal red and black.

This tourney has been called not just for sport, but for distraction.
The debutante summer has faltered. No betrothals. No alliances sealed. The fire only worsened the unease.

So tonight, the realm pretends.

Entertainers perform near the common grounds, fire dancers, singers, mummers reenacting heroic legends. Wine flows freely. Laughter comes easier as darkness deepens. Some houses throw open their tents to guests and rivals alike; others keep their flaps closed, plotting in candlelight.

At midnight, the opening ceremonies will begin.
Tomorrow, lances will shatter, horses will thunder, and reputations will be made or broken.

For now, the night belongs to choice.

The torches are lit.
The drums will sound at midnight.

Tonight, you choose how the realm sees you.

Aegon of House Targaryen,
the First of His Name

[ bericht aangepast op 28 jan 2026 - 16:13 ]

always keep the picnic blankets in the back

30 jan 2026 - 19:55 sakamoto_ is offline

sakamoto_ 1382

ЯHΛΣGΛЯ
^{^{Waters

⚔︎ . 　* 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡'𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 * 　 . ⚔︎}}

sky above me,
sea below me,
fire with me

targaryen bastard • master of dragons • 24 • alone • tourney grounds

It should not come as a surprise to anyone that Rhaegar was not fond of tourneys. Now, even more so. Spending gold coins on a tourney for the nobles, rather than on rebuilding the people's houses after the fire. It was a sad show. Theatrics. A mad circus. As if they had not yet have enough of that yet. Only weeks ago, he would have given in to participation, not being able to say ‘no’ to his halfsister. Now, he flat out refused.
Not that his body would even allow him to. With the rush of the fire, Rhaegar had only noticed his injuries after the fire had died down, Alys and Aemma were taken care off, and he was alone in his room. His back and sides were black and blue. Rolling off his dragon onto the stone wall of the Red Keep had not gone as smoothly as it initially seemed. Cuts on his arms. The bruise on his cheekbones and scrapes on his face had not faded yet either. He refused the Grand Maesters healing and was not cleared to fly by himself. Which was exactly why he was currently hiding from Visenya, as he was supposed to have flown in with her.
He hadn't and his body was aching. Rhaegar did not mind. The physical pain dimmed the turmoil of guilt. Somewhat. He often scoffed the nobles of only taking care of themselves when in need. Had given orders to guards to help the people living close to the castle walls. And yet, while the fire was roaring, all he could think of was Alys and Aemma once they came into his line of sight. He had wrapped sick, little Aemma in his fireproof flying leathers, much too big on her. Only left them when he was absolutely sure that they were safe. Only then did he move away from the castle grounds. Later, when he learned people burned to death, he threw up.
And yet, he tried to glimpse a sight of Alys on the chaotic tourney grounds. The many different fires casted shadows over his face. Servants bustled around, rushing from one tent to the other. Rhaegar secretly hoped the heavens would open up, the rain pouring down, washing away all this madness. He tilted his head towards to sky. Not even one cloud on the horizon.

MOST DAYS
I AM A MUSEUM
OF THINGS I WANT TO FORGET

baby, let's get messy, let's get all the way undone

30 jan 2026 - 21:52 malinin is online

malinin 1640

Valerion
^{^{of the House Targaryen

The Spare}}

Something had changed. Valerion had changed.
Walking through the overly crowded Targaryen pavilion, his attention was fully focused on the small creature perched on his shoulder. There was a before and an after Ghost now.
After the disappointing dragon-hatching ceremony, Valerion had felt hopeless. If only he had known he needed to wait a few more days before all that waiting would be rewarded. Ghost’s egg had hatched on the night of the fire. So naturally, he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about the city burning. Whatever the Gods had planned that day, it had been in Valerion’s favor. Too bad people had died—he had his dragon. He got what he was entitled to.
And what he was entitled to was the creature he now kept close at all times. The hatchling had pale grey scales, the color of morning mist, and wouldn’t let any dragonmaster touch him. Valerion was the only one allowed near him, and it made him feel special. Feel chosen.
Finally.
So who gave a crap that Visenya had invited half of Westeros to their pavilion tonight? Those were the kinds of things Valerion would have worried about, would have been annoyed by, before Ghost. But now, with Ghost, he couldn’t care less who his sister invited or didn’t.

“Congratulations on the hatching, Prince Valerion,” a dark-haired, newly appointed Kingsguard knight said, stepping closer.
Valerion nodded, and Ghost immediately proved the bad manners the dragonmasters had warned him about if he failed to socialize the hatchling properly, letting out the smallest fiery breath Valerion had ever seen.
“Wow, look at that,” the Kingsguard said, laughing.
It didn’t matter. He might be small now, but Ghost would grow, and then his fire wouldn’t invite laughter anymore.
Valerion should probably ask the new Kingsguard his name, but he couldn’t be bothered. Soon he wouldn’t need the protection of pathetic little men in armor like the one standing beside him. He pushed forward toward the main table, but his eyes caught the fiery red hair of Lethia, who was playing her music to entertain the crowd. Before Ghost, he would have been too pissed off at the sight of his ex-lover to acknowledge her at all, but now the sting was duller, the hurt lighter.
“My sister really employs you for everything, doesn’t she?” he commented, taking a well-filled cup of wine from a nearby servant.
So maybe not everything about him had changed. The drinking would still be labeled questionable by some. But again, did Valerion really care?
“Heard you helped heal that Baelish fellow after the fire. Good to know you let yourself be employed by the lower class as well,” he added, sitting down in the chair reserved for him at the Targaryen table. “Play me a victory song,” he demanded. “I feel like celebrating the fact that I will win this tournament.”

A Targaryen all alone in the world
is a terrible thing

always keep the picnic blankets in the back

30 jan 2026 - 22:14 malinin is online

malinin 1640

Visenya
^{^{of the House Targaryen

✦ . 　⁺ Master of Laws ⁺ 　 . ✦}}

Wearing • 22 y/o • Tourney Grounds • with Cedrick

VNothing about this summer had gone as planned.
Visenya felt out of control, in the worst way possible. So perhaps things couldn’t get any worse, and that was why she felt bold enough to speak to Cedrick Stark tonight. She had heard rumors of Cedrick being betrothed to Nashayana Hightower, and even though it shouldn’t have bothered her, Visenya couldn’t stop thinking about it from the moment the news reached her.
So she had slipped out of the Targaryen pavilion and found herself among the members of House Stark. There had been a time when she would see the Stark banner and see her future, but now that future was destined for another woman. Something about that thought stung.

Cedrick wasn’t hard to find. His presence seemed to fill the entire room or maybe that was just how Visenya felt. She wasn’t sure. Nor had she ever asked anyone.
Feeling somewhat naked without her ladies-in-waiting, Visenya took a deep breath and bravely approached the Wild Wolf.
“So glad you could join the tourney, Cedrick,” she said politely. Gods, her brothers were so much better at getting to the point. All she knew were manners and carefully crafted, politically correct conversations. “And I am also glad to see you are unharmed after the fire,” she continued. “Would you care to share a glass of wine with me?” She hated the way her own voice sounded.

A Targaryen alone in the world
is a terrible thing.

always keep the picnic blankets in the back

30 jan 2026 - 22:38 malinin is online

malinin 1640

DANTIS BARATHEON
Master of Whisperers

Tourney Grounds with Aelor

"Aelor!”
Dantis approached his best friend with a great wooden lance, running drunkenly across the tourney grounds. The lance’s point was as blunt as could be, yet it still managed to knock over a few bystanders along the way. Normally, he wouldn’t let himself go like this, but something about tourneys invited the wilder side of Dantis—the side he usually kept under control in the city. He suspected the city reminded him too much of the drunken murder he had committed in a brothel when he was a younger man, and being out in the open fields felt more distant from that horrid memory, the one that had earned him exile all those years ago.

They were surrounded by their usual crowd: some friends, but mostly an entourage of adoring highborn lords and ladies, the sort who believed that standing close to the crown prince meant his power and might might shine down on them as well, helping them grow their own influence in Westeros.
Dantis missed Aelor by an inch but had underestimated his own pace and couldn’t slow himself in time. The momentum sent the lance crashing straight through a Lannister tent. Shocked screams erupted from inside the pavilion, and Dantis let go of the lance, laughing. Moments later, laughter followed from House Lannister as well. People seemed less tense on the tourney grounds. Especially after the fire, the highborn needed an escape and something to celebrate.
It was the perfect night for loose lips, and Dantis’s informants were spread throughout the pavilions, listening for conversations never meant for unwanted ears. Knowing they would do the hard work for him tonight, Dantis felt free to truly let go. He returned to Aelor and their entourage.

“I’m sure you’ll do better than me in the tourney, my friend,” Dantis commented. “I’m afraid I’m a bit rusty,” he admitted, though he had enrolled himself all the same.
A little boy with soft golden curls ran up and tugged at his sleeve. Dantis bent down and let the boy whisper in his ear.
“Princess Visenya has been seen with the Starks, speaking to the Lord of Winterfell,” the boy said quickly. "And Rhaegar is walking the grounds alone."
Dantis nodded and pressed a silver coin into the boy’s hand. “Well done, Leo. Now return to the Starks and keep an eye on the princess tonight.”

Secrets are the real coin of kings and queens.
And I am richer than them all

always keep the picnic blankets in the back

30 jan 2026 - 23:55 sakamoto_ is offline

sakamoto_ 1382

𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒂
^{^solani}

court musician and dancer • lady-in-waiting for princess visenya • witch • 24 • dress • with valerion • targaryenn tent

There was a soft, drumming sound in the back of her mind. Something new, yet familiar. A heartbeat. A home. Domeric. Somewhere on the field, in one of many other tents. Lethia had warned Domeric that there would be consequences to protecting them from the fire. Consequences of using their blood for it. It all seemed calm, so far. Yet, she knew magic and it was never without a price. They could do nothing but wait.

The Targaryen tent was bustling. Many of the Houses had their own partytents, still Visenya had invited all the houses. The princess herself was nowhere to be seen, which was not like her. The youngest Targaryens had been left in Kings Landing, to bond with their newly hatched dragons. Aelor wasn't in the tent either. All of these people here for them, commanding any room they walked into with ease.
And now, it was only Valerion who sauntered through the crowd, with a newly found confidence. It was not a crown that had been placed upon his head, but a little dragon on his shoulder. Her eyes followed them until they ended up at the near empty Targaryen table. Lethia stepped closer, violin dangling from her fingers, as the other musicians took over.
“My sister really employs you for everything, doesn’t she?” If Valerion ever were to start his own House, he should consider taking a cup of wine as a sigil.
Lethia didn't comment, merely shrugged. She did do a lot for the princess. But she didn't mind. As much as she disliked court, she enjoyed staying busy.
“Heard you helped heal that Baelish fellow after the fire. Good to know you let yourself be employed by the lower class as well.’’ Her eyes snapped back from the dragon, to the prince.
’’He did not employ me, I merely helped him.’’ She had been utterly careful to not use any magic for it. If they'd still been together, she would've snapped at Valerion that helping someone else for once would do good for his character. ‘’Perhaps it is best to not refer to him as lower class around others though. He still is of House Baelish.’’ Lethia did not entirely succeed in hiding her grimace.

“Play me a victory song,” Valerion demanded. “I feel like celebrating the fact that I will win this tournament.” She almost prefered Aelor's constant antagonising manner towards her over whatever… this from Valerion was,
She raised an eyebrow. ‘’Pardon me, my prince, but unless I have a sudden gap in my memory, which I doubt, the tournament is still to take place. Some would consider it a bad luck to celebrate early.’’ There was also absolutely no chance that Valerion would win. ‘’But, I can play something for your other victory?’’
She knelt down next to Valerion, looking up at him now. ‘’I truly am happy for you.’’ Her voice lower and softer, for no one else needed to hear it. She meant it. He was swaggering about the place now, but she genuinely hoped it would do his insecurities some good. ‘’I know you have been wanting to bond with one. And look what a magnificant little creature you got.’’ She said fondly. Lethia shifted her attention to the dragon, only to find it was already watching her. ‘’Ghost, right? He reminds me of the moon, with his scales.’’ It did not deter her that little Ghost had been blowing flames at nearly everyone, if rumours were to be believed. Ghost curiously sniffed her fingers and after approval, nibbled softly on them. Lethia was completely enthralled. ‘’Do you want me to? Play something for you and him?’’

all the lights are sparkling for her

[ bericht aangepast op 31 jan 2026 - 0:01 ]

baby, let's get messy, let's get all the way undone

2 feb 2026 - 18:10 Hollander is offline

Hollander 12487

TARGARYEN
^{^{^{^AELOR}}}
^{^{the cruel}}
24 ⚜ Prince of the Seven Kingdoms ⚜ With Dantis

''Aelor!''
Aelor raised an eyebrow at the sound of someone calling him name. He turned slowly away from the servant he'd been abusing to look who it was that called out his name so coarse and without regard for titles or etiquette. Almost barrelling into him was Dantis Baratheon, evidently very drunk and wielding a wooden lance. Just in time, Aelor was able to take a step back, which sent Dantis' lance through the Lannister tent. Almost in unison, the two men started laughing, loudly, followed by laughter from the Lannister tent and the lords and ladies surrounding the crown prince.
Aelor pushed the servant away with a heavy hand, took a step in the direction of his best friend, and pulled him upright. He threw an arm around Dantis' shoulders. ''You nearly stabbed me, you twat!'' He said menacingly, then laughed again.
''I'm sure you'll do better than me in the tourney, my friend,'' Dantis said. Aelor scoffed.
''I do not doubt it.''
''I'm afraid I'm a bit rusty.''
''I do not doubt that either.''
Aelor grabbed two goblets from a silver platter a servant was carrying and pushed one into Dantis' open hand. He emptied the other one in the grasspatch under his feet and motioned to his personal servant, a young boy he did not know the name of, to fill the cup with grape juice he was carrying. Aelor smashed the two goblets together and said: ''To victory!'' And took a drink. ''And to remaining the best.'' A few of the other high born joined his toast.
Dantis got distracted by a small child pulling his sleeve, and Aelor turned away from the duo, bothered by the interference. A lower ranked lord approached him with compliments and unearned admiration, and Aelor ignored him, saying loudly: ''I propose a wager! Me versus my insufferable, insignificant brother. Who'll take it?''
Aelor turned around with wide-spread arms to Dantis, expecting him to be the first to take that wager. Instead the brown-haired Baratheon was still talking to his little mouse-friend. Aelor turned right in time to hear Dantis say: ''-return to the Starks and keep an eye on the princess tonight.''
The laughter disappeared from Aelor's face. ''Don't tell me Visenya is in that Northerner's tent.''

kindness is never a burden.

3 feb 2026 - 22:49 lustforlife is offline

lustforlife 1776

_{_{CEDRICK STARK}}
THE WILD WOLF

Lord of Winterfell • Warden of the North • 30 • with Visenya Targaryen • In the Stark tent

The smell of ale and the sound of laughter filled the Stark tent. Surrounded by his loyal vassals, family friends and allies Cedrick Stark almost forgot it was not the night before an epic battle.
No, there would be no havoc tomorrow. Only polished shiny play pretend.
Although Maester Luwin had pushed hard for Cedrick to join the tournament, the Northener had declined.
He was a fighter, not a knight. When he decided to take a swing, nothing about it was entertaining.

It was entertaining however, to see Lyssandra try to ditch her chaperone multiple times. Yet, Yurgen Karstark did not falter and kept her in his line of sight the entire night. Cedrick knew she wanted more freedom, and in the North he would've granted his sister her wish, but not here. Not when beer was flowing, the tourney grounds were dark and the need of the competing men for a night with a woman who would be their lucky charm hung thick in the air.

Cedrick moved to retrieve another pint of ale when a voice like silk stopped him death in his tracks.
"So glad you could join the tourney, Cedrick,”
The Wolf turned around and blinked in surprise at the sight of a lone Visenya Targaryen. Gods, it felt like a lifetime ago that she had uttered a word to him, let alone a friendly one. He didn't quite know what to do. How to act. So the Stark politely bowed his head. "Princess,"
He hoped she did know he wouldn't be participating.
“And I am also glad to see you are unharmed after the fire,” the Targaryen princess continued.
Cedrick had to bite down a smile on that.
"I would assume you wouldn't have mind it if some flames had kissed my skin."
He cursed mentally. Her friendly approach, was not to be confused with familiarity.
They were long gone from that.

Visenya Targaryen kept surprising him. “Would you care to share a glass of wine with me?”
There was nothing in those bright purple eyes that spilled her intentions.
His blue ones tried detecting any sign of a list, but they could not find any.
Perhaps he couldn't trust them, as they were too distracted by the unnatural beauty that was pooring out of the Targaryen girl.
He had forgotten what she looked like from up close.
Cedrick awkwardly nodded and gestured with his arm towards a display of chairs and a large wooden table in the back of the tent.
"It would be my pleasure. After you Princess."
As they moved between the members of House Stark and others, Cedrick felt people starting to notice the Princess. It was hard not to when she was dressed like that.
The pair sat down, Cedrick waved at a servant and before they could blink two cups were filled with wine and set before them.
The northener raised his cup. "To you, honoring us with your presence."
He pressed his cup against his lips and drank.
The wine tasted good, although he did prefer the simple flavor of ale.
He set the cup back on the table and leaned forward.
"I must say of all the people present at the tourney grounds, you're amongst those I would least expect to pay us a visit. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

THE NORTH REMEMBERS

[ bericht aangepast op 3 feb 2026 - 22:54 ]

let the fears you have fall away

4 feb 2026 - 22:01 lustforlife is offline

lustforlife 1776

_{_{CELIA LANNISTER}}
THE LION'S PRIDE

Lady Celia Lannister of Casterly Rock • The Golden Daughter • 22 • in a crimson red gown with details of gold • with Rhaegar • somewhere on the tourney grounds

Celia Lannister loved everything about tournaments. It was the only time she liked being dragged outdoors.
Ever since she was a little girl, she'd liked seeing hot men fight eachoter. She still remembers every knight that ever wore her favor during a tournament. That sensation of being crowned the queen of love and beauty by a champion is something that's hard to beat.

The night before had always enthralled her.
Ego's swinging at eachother, wages being placed and hot knights who tried talking her into their beds. This time however, nothing about the night was amusing.
She found it rather dull. There was nog magic.
Not like that night of the fire. When she had witnessed real magic.
She had been reminded why no one could break the Targaryen dynasty. After all, they were the keepers of that magic.
That night a dance of awe and jealousy had taken place inside of her. It was all she could really think about these days.

She'd wanted to go to the Targaryen tent to find the Targaryen prince and his new litte companion this night, but her father hadn't agreed. The rumors of his Golden Daughter dancing the night away with the spare somewhere in the lower city had reached the ears of the Lord of Casterly Rock. He was not pleased. He had given her freedom in testing out the waters, but from now on he would take charge.
So, this evening he had set her up with Lords of boring small vassal houses. When she finally thought she had made it through, he had come forward with Waldron Frey, the heir of the crossing. Her stomach had turned, when his hands were frequently placed on her body in an improper way.
Just a bit to low on her back.
Or a bit to high on her legs.
She knew her father didn't mean for these matches to succeed. The Lannisters were too good for any of them. It was her punishment. So, she had endured it.
After, he had sent her to bed. As if she still had a bed time. There she drew the line.
She had sneaked out and wandered the tourney grounds alone.

Light blonde hair lit up the darkness in front of her. She stopped.
Rhaegar just stood there, watching the sky.
She followed his gaze in the hopes of seeing some magic, but there was nothing there, except for the plain stars.
"It surprises me, to see you out here alone. Does the princess know you're not helping out with the party, but instead making eyes with the sky?"
She approached the man and gave him a small smile.
"I'm just kidding. It's been a while since we've been alone together, Rhaegar. It's a rare thing, so I wouldn't dare to ruin it."
Her eyes met his.
"How have you been?"

HEAR ME ROAR

[ bericht aangepast op 4 maart 2026 - 10:47 ]

let the fears you have fall away

5 feb 2026 - 16:52 malinin is online

malinin 1640

DOMERIC
^{^{House Bolton}}

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷

A naked man has few secrets; a flayed man, none

D omeric couldn’t get used to seeing his little sister at the Targaryen court. His Winny looked more like a King’s Landing high lady than the Northerner she had been born to be. It wasn’t a bad look, though. Winny looked happy here, and that in itself made Domeric happy, even if he would be lying to say he didn’t miss his sister in the North.
But that was about to change. Their father was set on Winny returning to the Dreadfort and marrying a highborn man, preferably from the North. Domeric wasn’t sure how he felt about it, but he was sure of one thing: he intended to put his sister’s suitor to the test, whoever he might be.
“Winny.” Domeric pulled his little sister into a hug amidst the bustle of the Targaryen pavilion. “Were you planning on telling me who sent you those beautiful flowers that were left in front of your door this morning?”

Candles were lit all across the tent, though Domeric tried to avert his eyes whenever they fell upon the flames. The night of the great fire—the feeling of being trapped in a room with fire all around him—now haunted his dreams as much as the battlefields he had seen. If it weren’t for Lethia, he wouldn’t be here anymore.
But something had happened that night. Lethia had done something. Something humans weren’t supposed to be able to do. Domeric didn’t dare speak of it. Magic was believed to have died out, yet he had seen proof of the opposite with his own eyes. It was too much to comprehend, so for now, keeping his focus on his little sister seemed the easiest way to cope.

Our Blades Are Sharp

always keep the picnic blankets in the back

5 feb 2026 - 17:11 malinin is online

malinin 1640

Valerion
^{^{of the House Targaryen

The Spare}}

“He did not employ me, I merely helped him.” Lethia took the bait, responding exactly as Valerion had expected. He smirked. ‘’Perhaps it is best to not refer to him as lower class around others though. He still is of House Baelish.’’ She continued with a grimace Valerion didn’t miss.
“He is my inferior, little redhead. I will refer to him however I like,” he said, sipping from his cup before continuing by demanding a victory song.
Lethia raised an eyebrow. ‘’Pardon me, my prince, but unless I have a sudden gap in my memory, which I doubt, the tournament is still to take place. Some would consider it a bad luck to celebrate early.’’
Valerion simply rolled his eyes. Was she always such a spoilsport? Why had he ever bothered with her?
“But I can play something for your other victory?”
“Why not play me exactly what I want to hear? If I want a song about me being victorious in the tourney, then I shall get it. That is how employment works, doesn’t it?” he said, snippily.

Lethia knelt down next to him, her big brown eyes looking up at him. “I truly am happy for you,” she said softly. “I know you have been wanting to bond with one. And look what a magnificent little creature you got.”
Valerion shifted in his chair. What was Lethia trying to do? Was she manipulating him with these sweet words meant only for him to hear? Before he could decide, her attention had shifted to his dragon.
‘’Ghost, right? He reminds me of the moon, with his scales.’’ She held out her fingers, and Ghost curiously sniffed them before, after a moment of approval, nibbling softly. Lethia looked completely enthralled. ‘’Do you want me to? Play something for you and him?’’

Valerion watched the tiny dragon mouth her fingers without protest and felt an odd swell of pride in his chest.
“He doesn’t do that for just anyone,” he said smugly. “Careful. He might decide he likes you—or decide you taste like the sheep he’s been nibbling on for the past few days.”
He took a slow sip from his wine, his eyes never leaving Ghost.
“Yes, play us something. And don’t start with your superstitions. Bad luck, good luck—those are excuses people use when they’re afraid to believe they might actually win.” A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “I’m not afraid.”

He leaned back in his chair, one arm lazily draped over the backrest.
“Play something,” he added. “Not for the court. Not for Visenya. Not for any of these leeches pretending they were invited here for honor.” His eyes dropped briefly to Ghost again. “But for me.”
A small pause.
“…And if it happens to sound like a victory song, I won’t complain about you to my sister,” he continued. “And while you play, please enlighten me about your dislike for House Baelish. I saw that grimace on your face.”

A Targaryen all alone in the world
is a terrible thing

always keep the picnic blankets in the back

5 feb 2026 - 22:10 sakamoto_ is offline

sakamoto_ 1382

_{_NASHAYANA}
𝐻𝐼𝒢𝐻𝒯𝒪𝒲𝐸𝑅

house hightower • 25 • with olyvar • tourney grounds

She was going mad and there was nowhere to go. The Targaryen festivities in the capital were fine. There was always some moment to slip away, to sneak into the city. Usually to be found by Dantis, who was adamant that she should not be out in the streets and pubs by herself.
The temptations were getting to her. There was a pull. A restless ache beneath her ribs, that hunger that had nothing to do with food or drink. She was hot, flustered and she needed something. Walking around outside did not help and she was not about to hide in her tent. ‘‘Mother, please give me strength,’’ she whispered to herself.
The prayer did little to cool her blood. The air was thick, clinging to her skin, perfumed with smoke and spiced wine and too many bodies celebrating too loudly, too freely. Behind the canvas walls, music rose and fell. She walked over the tourney grounds, fingers flexing at her sides, then curling into the fabric of her skirts.

The music was barely softer on the outskirts of the grounds, but at least there were fewer people. Nasha looked down at her hands, her right one still covered in bandages. The wounds on it were healed enough to go without the bandages, but she did not like the scar on the palm of her hand. A remainder from when she grabbed the flaming hot doorknob in the fire. The imperfection irked her.
And then she heard it. Soft groans and moans coming from a tent close to her. Nasha crept closer. More sounds, now of skin clapping against skin. ‘’You have got to be kidding me,’’ she muttered, almost angrily. Her breathing hitched as another wave of heat flushed through her, her cheeks burning red. The gods were cruel tonight, whispering temptation into every corner.
Nasha hurried away, before it was too late and she could not make herself leave, listening in on that. Maybe, perhaps, if she could just find someone... She only noticed Olyvar when she standing right in front of him, nearly running him over, her thoughts completely elsewhere. Her face lit up when she saw his familiar figure. ‘‘Olyvar,’’ she breathed, ‘‘it is a true blessing to see you here.’’ She rolled her shoulders, trying to shake off the feeling of temptation. Yet the night was determined to close in on her, to remind her of every pulse of blood, her cheeks remaining flush. ‘‘I did not know you were coming. If I had, I would have travelled with you.’’
Nearby, rough laughter broke out, followed by the sound of glass breaking. Nasha inched closer to Olyvar. ‘‘What do you make of all this… sinning?’’ she asked. ‘‘There is not even a place to repent. The Targaryens are making a joke out of our Gods.’’

baby, let's get messy, let's get all the way undone

6 feb 2026 - 21:35 Hollander is offline

Hollander 12487

THE SEPTON
^{OLYVAR FREY

House Frey of the Crossing Septon of the Faith of the Seven ۞ 26 ۞ Tourney Grounds ۞ Nashayana}

Four men were playing cards and one was losing badly. Olyvar's eyes were watching the man's cards over his shoulder. He should play the three of hearts, he thought to himself, but didn't say anything. He had his hands crossed, back straight, with one hand stroking his chin in contemplation. If he'd been playing, he would've won four rounds ago. But the men were clearly drunk and the wagers were low. It was all in good spirit. How boring, Olyvar thought to himself.
The man played a six of diamonds and the whole tent cheered. Olyvar closed his eyes as the other three men divided their winnings, and the loser, a lower lord from the North, threw his chair over, and stormed out of the tent, yelling obscenities at the other players.
He grabbed a goblet from a passing platter and silently followed the man outside. The night was dark, but the air was warm. For a split second, Olyvar was transported back to his days on the Wall. Except those had been freezing, always.
The man was pissing a few tents over, and Olyvar came to halt next to the man.
''Well?'' The man asked, not looking up from his pissing.
Olyvar took a sip of his drink, the sweet taste of strawberry wine lingered on his lips, as he said: ''You did well.''
The man sighed and nodded to himself.
From the inside of his coat, Olyvar drew a small pouch and held it out to the man, not making eye contact, but rather looking in the distance where a few women were dancing around a group of men. Their filth disgusted him.
The man accepted the pouch, and Olyvar dropped his hand immediately, turned away and sauntered off, putting the goblet to his mouth. Before he was out of earshot, he half-turned and said with a smile: ''I will pray the Father exempts your sins. May the light of the Mother reach you.''
He turned a corner and nearly ran into another person, just barely holding his goblet straight before it spilled all over his coat. And then he saw who it was. Golden hair, bright blue eyes.
''My lady,'' he said, at the same moment she softly spoke his first name. He made a small bow, his hand on his chest.
''It is a true blessing to see you here. I did not know you were coming. If I had, I would have travelled with you,'' she continued. Olyvar studied her. Her cheeks were flushed pink, her breathing irregular and she looked a bit twitchy, which was unusual for her, but it did not alarm his by any means.
His mind flashed back to the night before, when Olyvar had been on his way to the tourney fields, accompanied by two lovely ladies. He'd dropped them off before entering the area, but not before being entertained by them. The thought of Nashayana Hightower being there both unsettled and excited him.
''Do not mention it, my lady, I am glad, though a little puzzled, to see you here safe and well,'' he answered diplomatically.
He leaned a little back when she stepped closer. ''What do you make of all this… sinning?'' Her eyes were big, illuminated by the white light of the moon, and the warm flames of the torches. ''There is not even a place to repent. The Targaryens are making a joke out of our Gods.''
''Hush,'' he said quickly, placing a hand on her wrist, then letting go. He motioned for them to move along. ''You are right,'' he continued in a hushed tone, ''lest I must beg you to keep your voice low. The Targaryens have hanged men - or women - for less, and it would pain the Faith greatly to see your devout head on a spike.''
He offered her his arm, still holding the goblet in the other. ''But I must agree with you. I have been tasked by the High Septon and the Father himself, to watch over the lost souls at this tourney, which is why I will set up a confessional in my tent, and an altar, for anyone wishing to repent or worship during the tourney events.'' He turned to Nasha and cupped her hands between his. ''You are most welcome to visit anytime, my lady.''

[ bericht aangepast op 6 feb 2026 - 21:37 ]

kindness is never a burden.

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