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

27 juli 2024 - 15:38 VaIya is offline

VaIya 1091

HOUSE
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rollentopic
praattopic • praattopic II • praattopic III
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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

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 23 sep 2024 - 11:18 ]

Sisterhood Above All

25 okt 2024 - 13:08 VaIya is offline

VaIya 1091

A SUNNY DAY IN
^{^{𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌}}

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Een vrije dag voor de High Lords en Ladies

Datum: Zesde dag van de zesde maan, jaar 1 AC
Tijd: 13:46
Temperatuur: 21 graden Celsius
Locatie: King's Landing

Beschrijving van het de Dag
Het eerste officiële evenement ter ere van het eenjarig jubileum van Aegon's Conquest was een groot succes. Het bal in Aegon's Fort duurde tot diep in de nacht, en op een klein incident na – een opstandje tussen prins Valerion en lord Domeric van House Bolton – verliep de avond zonder verdere verstoringen. De dag daarna heeft het personeel van House Targaryen het Fort grondig opgeruimd.

Het volgende evenement op de kalender is Dragon Hatching's Day, het jaarlijkse feest dat door de hele stad gevierd wordt om het uitkomen van de drakeneieren te eren. Er wordt verwacht dat dit jaar drie eieren zullen uitkomen, wat op grootse wijze zal worden gevierd. De voorbereidingen voor dit spectaculaire evenement zijn vandaag van start gegaan.

Voor de High Born gasten die momenteel in de hoofdstad verblijven, is het badhuis van de Targaryens vandaag exclusief toegankelijk. Lords en Ladies van alle huizen, evenals de Targaryens zelf, kunnen hier ontspannen en genieten van de warme baden.

Weer
Het weer van vandaag laat zien dat de zomer voor de deur staat. Met een temperatuur van zo'n 21 graden Celsius is het buiten aangenaam,en voelt het in de zon heerlijk warm aan.

Het badhuis van House Targaryen
• Baden:
Frigidarium: Een koudwaterbad om af te koelen na het warme baden.
Tepidarium: Een lauwe kamer met baden om geleidelijk aan op temperatuur te komen.
Caldarium: Een hete stoomruimte, vergelijkbaar met een sauna, met een warmwaterbad.
Laconicum: Een hete, droge ruimte die lijkt op een moderne sauna zonder water.
• Behandelingen:
Masseurs bieden massages aan voor de gasten.
Ook manicures en pedicures worden aangeboden.
• Vermaak:
Een harpist speelt ontspannende muziek in het badhuis.
• Maaltijden:
Er is een eetruimte waar men kan genieten van eten en drinken tijdens of na het baden. Hier worden lichte maaltijden geserveerd.

Situatie nu
Het is momenteel 13:46 uur, en de High Borns zijn vrij om hun dag naar eigen wens in te vullen. Ondertussen zijn de Low Borns vermoedelijk aan het werk.

Extra informatie
• Dragon Hatching's Day is een jaarlijks festival dat door de hele stad gevierd wordt ter ere van het uitkomen van de drakeneieren. Dit jaar wordt het feest extra groots gevierd, want hoewel er vorig jaar slechts één ei uitkwam, is de verwachting nu dat drie draken het levenslicht zullen zien. De twee jongste zussen van Visenya hebben nog geen eigen draak, dus de eieren die dit jaar uitkomen, zijn speciaal voor hen gereserveerd. De festiviteiten omvatten kleurrijke parades, muziek en indrukwekkende vuurshows, allemaal om de pracht en kracht van de draken te eren. Het feest trekt bezoekers van ver en dichtbij, en het is een dag vol vreugde, hoop en eerbied voor de groeiende drakenlijn van House Targaryen.
• Lord Domeric wordt vandaag het gebruik van het badhuis ontboden, om een verder conflict tussen hem en prins Valerion te voorkomen.
• Lady Haelle van House ~~Bolton~~ Manderly is aangekomen in de hoofdstad, en vanwege de recente ontvoering van deze High Lady zijn de veiligheidsmaatregelen in de hele stad aangescherpt. Prinses Visenya heeft als Master of Laws de opsporing van Lady Haelle's ontvoerders tot een topprioriteit gemaakt. Iedereen die informatie heeft over deze ontvoering wordt aangespoord deze informatie te delen met Ser Emrys Dayne.
• Visenya heeft acolyte Pyotr naar de hoofdstad uitgenodigd om onderzoek te doen naar de dood van Elaena. Hoewel Visenya zich eerder nooit zorgen heeft gemaakt om haar veiligheid in King's Landing, begint ze zich nu benauwd te voelen. Na de dood van Elaena is ze overgebleven met twee mannen, Aelor en Valerion, die eveneens beiden strijden om de troon. Visenya hoopt dat Pyotr, met zijn expertise, een definitief antwoord kan geven op de vraag die haar al bezighoudt: is Elaena werkelijk dood?
• Daarnaast is House Targaryen op zoek naar een nieuwe Master of Whisperers nu Throns plotseling is verdwenen. De voorkeur gaat uit naar iemand die nauw verbonden is met de familie, om te voorkomen dat er een herhaling van Throns' onverwachte verdwijning plaatsvindt.

Aegon of House Targaryen,
the First of His Name

[ bericht aangepast op 25 okt 2024 - 13:09 ]

Sisterhood Above All

27 okt 2024 - 16:48 toothlesss is offline

toothlesss 978

𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒂
^{^solani}

court musician and dancer • lady-in-waiting for princess visenya • witch • 24 • dress • with domeric • on the beach

She had barely slept that night. Kept tossing and turning. Not even solely because of Domeric’s sudden appearance. When her mind wasn’t focussed on that, it was filled with Princess Visenya’s offer. Though, you could hardly call something an offer when it came from the royal family. To them, you couldn’t say no. So, Lethia had said yes. A lady-in-waiting. For the princess herself. Many women would be overjoyed. For her, it wasn’t what she wanted. Visenya had waved away her concerns, her words that she wasn’t a nobleborn, couldn’t possible be a lady-in-waiting. Maybe we should change your birthstatus in the future. The insinuation behind it was obvious. And yet, that was also not what she wanted or desired or needed. Not if that meant living in King’s Landing for the rest of her life.

Now, she was staring out at the waters of Blackwater Bay, sunlight warming her face. Nervous. Hands trembling, not knowing what to expect from all of this, after not seeing him for so long. She could figure why he wanted to meet at the beach. Not as many eyes and ears as in the castle. And it stung – even though they had always been a secret. After losing him, it hurt more than it did before. She was happy that he was still alive, though ‘happy’ barely covered what she felt. But with that also came the stark realisation that they could never truly be together. And a family was something she wanted in the future. Not a hidden away secret.

It was pure intuition that made her look over her shoulder and to find Domeric standing there. It was near absurd. He didn’t belong on beaches or near the sea. His dark clothing stood against the light coloured sand.
Lethia slipped of the stone she was sitting on, legs buckling underneath her. She wasn’t sure for how long they could carry her. In slow movements, she made her way over to Domeric. As if he would disappear if she were to move too fast. His face was still bruised from the fight. Everything in her ached to heal it right there and then.
“There you are,” she said softly. She reached out to his hand, squeezing it softly. Solid. Real. She took a quavering breath, body shaking. His knuckles were bruised, her thumb brushing over them. “We match.” She showed the palms of her hands, full with little scrapes and scratches from her fell, two days earlier.
For the first time in one-and-a-half years, she looked up to meet his eyes. “I… I truly thought I-I was losing my mind, the night of the ball.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I thought that you were dead. He, Baelish, he told me you were dead.” Another big, deep breath. Tears filling her eyes. “Please tell me you are real.”

all the lights are sparkling for her

sometimes, the scary thing turns out to be the most wonderful thing of all

27 okt 2024 - 19:17 toothlesss is offline

toothlesss 978

_{_HAELLE}
𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔶

house manderly • 25 • with cedrick • on a balcony, looking over the city

If someone would’ve told her a few weeks ago, where she would be right now, Haelle would’ve laughed in their face. There is no way, she would have said, I am never going back there. But there she was, sitting on a balcony in Kings Landing. Her body was tense, had been since she arrived in the city two days ago. Right on time for the great opening ball. It had been easy enough to feign tiredness, that she wasn’t ready to see so many people all at once – so she didn’t go. Understandable, after her supposed kidnapping. Her brother, Garth, berated and lectured her the day after. She should’ve gone and sucked it up. Don’t be so weak. Did their father tell him the truth, or had he been told the same lie as Eirik Manderly had been telling everyone else. Kidnapped, the poor girl.
And all the same, she was avoiding the outing in the Targaryen bathhouse. That, she blamed on old Lord Bolton and that night all those years ago. The thought alone, of being so vulnerable, in a room full of people, made her sick to the bone. To her, it didn’t matter that she would still be covered up, wearing a long robe. If someone had forced her to go, she would’ve thrown up her breakfast in one the pretty little baths. A cold shiver ran across her spine. There wasn’t any theatre play required, when she excused herself to princess Visenya. The princess had been excessively concerned about her since the day she arrived. If she had any worry or concern at all, Haelle could come to her, for anything. It had made her feel weirdly lonely, that this princess who barely knew her, showed more concern and care than her parents had ever done.
“Lady Bol, uh, Manderly, are you alright, miss? Do we need to get you anything?”
Haelle looked up to the two guards behind her. Another courtesy of princess Visenya, to go wherever she was going. It was a well meant gesture, wanting to provide her safety, but all it did was made her feel caged in.
Her face must’ve given away her thoughts. Yes, leave me alone.. She shook her head. “Lady Manderly is fine. And I am alright, thank you, Farlan.”
Bolton or Manderly. That was yet another thing her brother was pushing her about. Talking to Domeric Bolton. Apparently, if dead people aren’t so dead after all, weddings are still legally binding. She did want to talk to Domeric, just not for the same reason her father and brothers wanted her to. A way out. There wasn’t a world in which she would raise Maisie at Dreadfort.
“Sir! Step back please, now.” Farlan’s voice was strict now.
She looked up once again, but her gaze quickly shifted from them, to the man they were stopping from going near her. Haelle jumped to her feet. “Farlan, Derys, it is alright. Lord Stark is a good friend of mine.”
Farlan eyed Cedrick suspiciously, noting the sword on his side.
“Farlan, please.”
The guard grumbled, but stepped aside begrudgingly, allowing Cedrick through.
“Could you give us some space?”
“Lady M-”
“Please, just a few paces.” As if she would be kidnapped right from the balcony.
“Of course, my lady.”
Once Farlan and Derys had stepped away, Haelle threw her arms around Cedrick. For a few minutes not caring about what was proper and what wasn’t. “Surprise,” she muttered. “You have grown a beard, about time. We have some catching up to do.”

[ bericht aangepast op 27 okt 2024 - 19:42 ]

sometimes, the scary thing turns out to be the most wonderful thing of all

28 okt 2024 - 21:10 Kiramman is offline

Kiramman 12090

T H E S T R A N G E R
^{AERON GREYJOY

^{qhomir hoare

31 ☩ With Celia in the bathhouse}}

The day was hot. Too hot for Qhomir. He was used to the misty, sodden atmosphere of the Iron Islands and the Riverlands; not the dry torridity of King's Landing. He bit down on the grape between his teeth. His hands were clasped behind his back as he stood under the covered gallery of the Royal Bathhouse.
It had been Lethia's idea, to pose Qhomir as a servant. He had gladly taken her up on that offer, and had left his house insigne behind again today. He'd chosen to dress plainly, not in actual servant's clothing, but something reminiscent of those.
Thus far, no Lord of Lady had approached him, so he considered his ruse a success. The Head of the Bathhouse had pushed a plate of grapes in his hands a couple of minutes ago and directed him to bring those to the lounging area outside of the laconicum, which Qhomir had done with a small nod. That's where he was now, positioned next to the door, with the plate of grapes on the small table left of him. There weren't a lot of grapes left.
He was waiting. Waiting on someone interesting. Someone... worthwhile.
The previous evening had been very eventful, in Qhomir's opinion. He'd thoroughly enjoyed his nightly stroll with the court musician Lethia, she'd been very interesting. Almost enough to distract him from the real reason he came to King's Landing in the first place.
The door next to Qhomir abruptly opened and a blonde lady stepped out. A Lannister, he thought. That golden yellow hair was a symbol of honor for the House. She didn't even glace at him as she moved past. Ah, indisputably so.
He popped another grape between his teeth as he watched her walk away, in the direction of the water rooms. And then something made him move forward.
''Pardon me, my Lady.'' He spoke softly, with his head bend down. He took a few more steps towards her. ''Can I offer you my services of any kind?'' He held out the nearly empty plate of grapes. ''A refreshment, a recommendation or an escort to the next room?'' He looked up at that, making eye contact. He still had one hand behind his back, and was leaning forward a little. Inviting body language.

kindness is never a burden.

29 okt 2024 - 21:00 toothlesss is offline

toothlesss 978

𝔫𝔢𝔥𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔞
^{^{of the House Martell

✷ . 　* 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔡𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔢 * 　 . ✷}}

Unbowed, unbent, unbroken

The words of House Martell

A promise to our enemies, and a challenge to our lovers

princess of dorne • second in line • 22 • with the lord commander • in the bathhouse

On some days, you wake up and choice violence. Today was one of those days for Nehemia Martell, princess of Dorne.
She had long noticed the presence of Lord Commander in the bathhouse. Fully dressed in their typical attire. It must be hot. Nemi was already hot from merely wearing the robes. There was a cold water bath as well, though she didn’t really see the point of that. Of why any sane person would just plunge themselves into freezing water. Something to ask Cedrick, when they were on speaking terms again. He was pissed with her, and she was pissed with him. But they never had a fight or discussion they didn’t get over. This wouldn’t be the one to break them.
Oh, Doran was not going to agree with what she was about now. Though, truly, it was mild compared to strolling through the garden with Domeric Bolton. Nehemia stood up, grabbed a glass of red wine, and sauntered over to where Emrys was standing. “Well…” She clacked her tongue. “It has been a while since the two of us have talked.” Nemi stared at Emrys from over the rim of her glass. Since you ran off,” is what she really wanted to say. Disappeared. At the moment she needed them the most. That she had grieved them, to find out they survived the shipwreck, only for them to not come home after all. It had hurt all those years ago and it still hurt now. The only speck of sunlight from the worst moment of her life, was that she had Doran now.
“What did Bolton mean, at the ball, when he said you were cozying up to his wife?” she cut right to the chase. With Emrys, she could. No dilly-dallying around. “Was it before, or after you betrayed Dorne and went to work for the Targaryens?”

AND IF I GET BURNED,
AT LEAST WE WERE ELECTRIFIED

sometimes, the scary thing turns out to be the most wonderful thing of all

30 okt 2024 - 18:46 Kiramman is offline

Kiramman 12090

TARGARYEN
^{^{^{^AELOR}}}
^{^{the cruel}}
24 ⚜ Prince of the Seven Kingdoms ⚜ With Visenya in her private quarters of the bathhouse

Aelor was bored. King's Landing was boring. After the thrills of Pentos, and the tumultuous return home with the arrogant Lady Manderly, Aelor hadn't gotten his money's worth of entertainment and adventure since. The ball had been nice, sure, and he had enjoyed spending the evening with his two favorite women, but now he ached for more. He wanted to beg his father for the next assignment, the next test of faith and trust, but he also didn't want to come off as a twat, so he didn't.
Which only made things worse for everyone around Aelor. He was pacing his room again, obsessively pacing from the window to the wall with his hands clasped behind his back. The fact that it was hot didn't help either. The Targaryens had the blood of the dragon running through their veins, but that didn't mean Aelor enjoyed warm weather. He liked the sharpness of cold air, the cutting edge of a strong sea breeze over the glaring pressing of the sun.
The door to his chamber opened and the chamberlain entered again, head bowed. There was still a dark purple mark visible on his cheek, where Aelor had struck him a few days ago.
''The Royal Bathhouse is ready, my Prince,'' he announced. He didn't need to tell Aelor twice. The prince stormed past the chamberlain quite forcefully and didn't stop until he had made it to his destination.

''Where is she?''
Aelor entered Visenya's private quarters quite dramatically. They rooms were located directly beside his own, with only a hallway separating them, so it wasn't a strange thing for Aelor to enter them unannounced. That didn't mean Visenya or her servants liked it, per say.
A servant woman bowed her head to him and pointed towards the washing room of the quarters. ''The princess is getting her hair washed, my Prince.'' Aelor scoffed, of course she was. He followed the direction the servant had pointed in, and came into a large room with a bath, large windows and a richly decorated interior. Visenya was half submerged in the tub, with three ladies attending her hair. The air smelled sweet, like flowers.
Aelor smiled at her from the doorway. ''Ah,'' he said. ''Couldn't wait for me?''
He strode over and placed himself on the edge of the bathtub. One of the servants had the audacity to look at him in shock and disbelief, but one raised eyebrow from Aelor and she'd dropped her face. The others minded their business - most likely used to Aelor doing whatever the hell he wanted.
He put his hand in the bath and made little swirls with his fingers. The rose petals brushed against his hand. ''Tell me. Brother? Or cousin?'' He inquired with a cheeky grin, but what he really meant by it was 'are you still angry with me for leaving?'

kindness is never a burden.

31 okt 2024 - 21:53 toothlesss is offline

toothlesss 978

ЯHΛΣGΛЯ
^{^{Waters

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

sky above me,
sea below me,
fire with me

targaryen bastard • master of dragons • 24 • with pyotr • dragon's pit

There were worse ways to spend the day than spending it at the Dragon Pit. It would’ve been better if he had been there all alone. Or well, not truly alone. There were always some dragonkeepers and guards – but if he desired so, he could easily order them away. Now he stood there with Pyotr, the mysterious stranger from two days ago. Rhaegar wasn’t all too keen on Pyotr being there, being allowed so near the dragons. The Dragon Pit had always been his safe space, something that felt more like his than the Red Keep had ever done. Or Dragonstone, for all that matter. If it hadn’t been for Visenya, he wouldn’t have let Pyotr into the pit so easily. He owed her for missing out on the opening ball. He felt oddly ostracised, not being at the bath house while most of the other nobles were there. Not that he liked being there, or wanted to be there, but he did like having a choice.
“So…” Rhaegar cleared his throat. “What were you wanting to do with the dragons?” he asked. “You can study them, but I can’t allow you to pull out any of their scales or anything similar that. They generally aren’t fond of strangers either, so don’t venture too close.” He nearly said that he might get eaten otherwise, but that seemed cruel, considering what happened to his father. “For any other information, you can ask me, or Ren, the uh gi – lady - woman you met earlier.” Ren had gone nearly feral after Rhaegar had handed her some of Pyotrs belongings. Would probably keep on glowering at him for the upcoming days, maybe even weeks. Apparently he was good enough to hide being when she was scared, but not for anything else.

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

sometimes, the scary thing turns out to be the most wonderful thing of all

1 nov 2024 - 20:16 VaIya is offline

VaIya 1091

Visenya
^{^{of the House Targaryen

✦ . 　⁺ Master of Laws ⁺ 　 . ✦}}

Post VII • 22 y/o • Bathhouse • with Aelor

Haelle’s kidnapping.
Dragon Hatching Day is coming up.
No Master of Whisperers.
These were only a few of Visenya’s worries at the moment. After the Ball, Lethia made sure the leftover food was donated to the brothels of King’s Landing. There wasn’t enough to supply all the brothels, though, so within 24 hours of trying to do good, Visenya found herself facing complaints from the brothel owners in the southern part of town. On top of that, an annoying high cleric of the Seven had complained that by giving food to the “whores of the land,” House Targaryen was encouraging their distasteful profession. The last thing Visenya needed was more conflict with the Faith. If she were to continue the Targaryen tradition, something the Seven would disapprove of, she needed them on her side before that.
Visenya let her head rest heavy as three of her personal servants poured warm water over her long locks while she bathed in her private chamber at the Targaryen bathhouse. Her white marble bathtub was filled with warm water, rose petals floated on the surface and danced around as more water flowed down through the golden, dragon-shaped tap. One more servant stood by to help dress Visenya after her bath; for now, she waved a large, dragon-decorated fan.
“Is the Princess feeling better already?” Mira asked while pouring another bowl of water over Visenya's hair.
She sighed. “Yes, Mira, thank you.” Closing her eyes and finally enjoying a bit of quiet.

Of course, that didn’t last long.
The doors to the room opened without a knock. “Ah,” he said. “Couldn’t wait for me?”
Even with her eyes closed, Visenya noticed how her servants tensed up. The fanning stopped, and the hands that fussed over her long blonde hair froze. Aelor had a reputation for reacting a tad more emotionally at times. Servants talk, and Visenya sometimes wondered if Aelor knew that, or if he cared.
“I wasn’t aware your oh-so-long hair needed washing.” Visenya replied.
Only when Aelor sat down on the edge of her bathtub did Visenya open her eyes. Elira, the young girl who had only been working for her for a month, stopped combing her hair. It was common for new servants to freeze up when Aelor entered the room, especially when he burst into Visenya's private quarters while she was bathing or getting dressed. Visenya understood, though. How many lowborns were accustomed to being unclothed around others? She didn’t know any better. Ever since she was a little girl, she had had servants washing her, dressing her, and doing her hair. Visenya looked up at Aelor and saw him raise an eyebrow at Elira, and the combing resumed quickly after that. Luckily Aelor understood.
He put his hand in the bathwater and created swirls with his fingers. ''Tell me. Brother? Or cousin?'' His cheeky grin brought a smile to Visenya's face.
“You are excused,” Visenya waved one hand in the air. “and please close the doors behind you.”
The women hurried out of the room without saying another word. As Visenya had asked, they closed the doors behind them. A beam of sunlight fell into the room through the large open windows.
“That depends,” she said, tilting her head. “Will I need to dance with the Lord Commander again, or will you be there to take his place?”

A Targaryen alone in the world
is a terrible thing.

[ bericht aangepast op 1 nov 2024 - 20:17 ]

Sisterhood Above All

1 nov 2024 - 21:04 VaIya is offline

VaIya 1091

Pyotr Baelish
^{^{Acolyte of the Citadel}}

══════════════════

Knowledge is Power
Post III • 25 y/o • Dragonpitt • Rhaegar

Even though his father was dead, Pyotr never truly escaped him. King’s Landing had been good to him, until Madoc Blackwood showed up at court to complain about his brothel not receiving donated food from the Targaryens. Pyotr detested his father’s investments in pleasure houses all across Westeros. After spending so much time in Essos, he had grown accustomed to not being confronted with that fact. He hadn’t missed being called “Lord Baelish,” either. It was unfortunate that he had been present when the princess was visited by Madoc. Noticing Pyotr was already acquainted with the brothel owner, she instructed him to visit the said brothel and offer his services on behalf of the Crown. So later today, Pyotr had to step foot in the establishment that paid for the existence of his House, delivering Moon Tea and Milk of the Poppy. Luckily, that was still a few hours away.

First, Pyotr had an appointment with the Prince That Could Have Been.
“So…” Rhaegar cleared his throat. “What were you wanting to do with the dragons?” he asked. “You can study them, but I can’t allow you to pull out any of their scales or anything like that. They generally aren’t fond of strangers, either, so don’t venture too close,” Rhaegar added. They walked alongside each other in the Dragonpit. It was a sunny day outside, but no sunlight penetrated this level of the Pit. “For any other information, you can ask me, or Ren—the, uh, girl, lady, woman you met earlier.”
Pyotr kept his gaze down but smiled. “I assure you, no dragons will be harmed while I am here,” he said calmly. “Actually, I’d like to ask if you could show me where the late Princess Elaena’s dragon was being held. Calixte was her name?” he asked as they continued walking. “And forgive my forwardness, but is this girl-lady-woman Ren someone important to you?” Pyotr continued cautiously. “I can’t help but notice a tension between the two of you.”

[ bericht aangepast op 1 nov 2024 - 21:05 ]

Sisterhood Above All

3 nov 2024 - 19:01 Kiramman is offline

Kiramman 12090

TARGARYEN
^{^{^{^AELOR}}}
^{^{the cruel}}
24 ⚜ Prince of the Seven Kingdoms ⚜ With Visenya in her private quarters of the bathhouse

Aelor's grin only widened when Visenya turned her servants away. Yes, he thought. Leave us. The hand in the water brushed against the skin of her arm.
''That depends. Will I need to dance with the Lord Commander again, or will you be there to take his place?'' She asked with cocked head. He tssk'd his tongue at her accusation, finding it unfair. It hadn't been his plan to leave for Pentos so close to Visenya's festivities. Nor had it been his fault the lady Manderly struggled to return home - a detail that had been left out in many rumors, he'd learned. Somehow, he found himself to be the only person to realize that the 'kidnapping' of Haelle Manderly had been less of an abduction, and more a failed attempt at escaping. Not to mention the small child he'd found stowed away on her ship. The resemblance to Haelle Manderly had been simply uncanny, but if he was to believe his father, the timeline and age of the child forewarned foul play.
''I promise,'' Aelor said to his sister-cousin and took her hand out of the water into his own. ''To always dance with you at further engagements, so you don't have to suffer in the hands of Dayne.'' Aelor had heard about Emrys Dayne's dance-moves, or rather, lack thereof. ''Satisfied?''
He didn't wait for her reply, but instead, pulled his shirt over his head and removed his shoes and pants. He dipped into the bath, opposite her and intertwined his legs with hers. They'd often bathed together as children - and Valerion and Elaena -, so privacy or embarrassment had never been an option for the Targaryen children.
Again, he said: ''Tell me. Why ever would you invite that acolyte to investigate Elaena. She'd dead, Vis. Gone.'' Brought it upon herself, too, he thought, but didn't say out loud. The topic of Elaena remained a rough one within the family. Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys barely mention her name anymore, and Valerion turned into a big softie after her death. Aelor used to enjoy the hot temper of his younger brother, it matched his own. But after that failed marriage arrangement and the strangeness surrounding Elaena's death... Aelor had grown to avoid her name altogether as well. Until now.
''And Haelle Bolton... well, I don't believe the abduction for a second. If her father had any guts, he would've ordered me to set the whole ship ablaze.'' He slid down the bath, until he was almost fully submerged, except for his eyes and ears.

kindness is never a burden.

4 nov 2024 - 17:22 lustforlife is offline

lustforlife 1150

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

Lady Celia Lannister of Casterly Rock • The Golden Daughter • 22 • in a pretty red and golden robe • with Qhomir • in the bathhouse

The heat of the Laconicum warped around Celia's skin. It was a welcome distraction from the stinging pain she felt in her left cheek. It didn't matter that Celia had fun the night of the opening ball. All her father had seen was an evening full of wasted potential. She had tried to point out to him that Aelor Targaryen had danced multiple times with her during the evening, but that had only angered him further. She was wise for befriending the Targaryens, but a complete fool if she was hoping for something more. There was no marriage alliance to gain there and by spending the majority of her time with the prince, she had scared away all other potential suitors. Celia had argued that it had made her more desirable, not less and by doing so had found herself at the receiving end of her fathers hand.
So, unlike her, she tried to stay away from the crowded rooms. Her brother had strongly suggested to not go all together, but Celia did not want to miss out on experiencing the royal bathhouse. Make-up was invented for a reason right? Her maids had spent two hours covering the spot up until it was unrecognizable. The only thing she had to do, was to make sure she did not stay too long in the rooms with hot temperature. Celia sighed as she felt some sweat starting to roll of the sides of her head. Time to go apparently. The golden haired woman made sure her red and golden robe was properly placed around her body and made her way to the door.

As she was heading to the water rooms a strange male voice filled up the empty hallway. "Pardon me, my Lady." Celia turned around. She hadn't sensed someone else. Servants were part of the decor for her. If she did not need anything, she barely noticed them. That was the natural order of things. It was how they should be and there was no exception. Behind her was a darkhaired man with warm tinted skin. His clothes were odd.. not quite those of servants, but he also definitely was not a guest here. What could he possibly want from her? ''Can I offer you my services of any kind?'' Celia frowned at the nearly empty plate of grapes. ''A refreshment, a recommendation or an escort to the next room?'' The man looked up for the first time since he had adressed her and the Lannister was struck by his sharp features. There was beauty in them. "A servant who dares to speak to a noble woman without being spoken to first?" She moved a bit closer while she was examining his face. "How interesting," Her eyes narrowed. "How scandalous."
She picked one of leftover grapes of the plate he was carrying and put it in between her teeth. "Why don't we start with your name and an apology? And then we can talk about those services of any kind you talk about."

HEAR ME ROAR

[ bericht aangepast op 4 nov 2024 - 17:33 ]

love me until I love myself

5 nov 2024 - 17:59 VaIya is offline

VaIya 1091

Visenya
^{^{of the House Targaryen

✦ . 　⁺ Master of Laws ⁺ 　 . ✦}}

Post VIII • 22 y/o • Bathhouse • with Aelor

Clearly, Aelor found Visenya’s accusations unfair. But had she lied? He was absent, leaving her no choice but to dance with the Lord Commander. Not that she had minded sharing a dance with the most trustworthy swordsman she had ever met, but those were details Aelor didn’t need to know. He was absent and that wasn’t good enough.
''I promise,'' Aelor said. He took her hand out of the water and into his own. ''To always dance with you at further engagements, so you don't have to suffer in the hands of Dayne.'' He said ''Satisfied?''
Before Visenya could answer, Aelor took off his clothes and slipped into the bath opposite her. Their legs immediately intertwined, reminding Visenya of their childhood at Dragonstone. Oh, how much had changed. Elaena was dead, and Valerion… More and more, Visenya felt that Valerion had died in some sense as well. She was lucky to still have Aelor.

“Not satisfied,” Visenya answered his question, though she was certain he hadn’t really wanted an answer. “But it’s a good start,” she added, looking him over. Often, after her parents or siblings returned from battle or a mission, Visenya would search for any signs of injury—scars, scratches, or burns. Her family couldn’t be hurt. She couldn’t bear to lose another one of her kin. Before she could ask about Pentos, Aelor brought up something else.
"Tell me. Why ever would you invite that acolyte to investigate Elaena. She'd dead, Vis. Gone.'' Aelor spoke. Elaena was a touchy subject. Her absence lingered awkwardly among everyone in the family; it had been a painful standstill, a disruptive force from which none of them had fully healed. Especially Aelor. Elaena was his twin, and in a family where blood was everything, such a close bond was almost sacred. Visenya felt for Aelor and wondered how he survived losing her. ''And Haelle Bolton... well, I don't believe the abduction for a second. If her father had any guts, he would've ordered me to set the whole ship ablaze.'' He slid down the bath, until he was almost fully submerged, except for his eyes and ears.

Visenya simply stared at Aelor. She hadn’t discussed her reasons for inviting Pyotr Baelish with anyone, that was hers to know alone. But, of course, with the capital being the snake’s nest it was, Aelor had caught wind of it. Visenya took her time, pressing her shins and thighs against Aelor’s. “Why would you think the acolyte has any other business than brewing my personal moontea, Ae?” She asked, still taking him in. “And regarding Haelle, tell me what I need to know. I have no reason, at this point, to question her story… but your opinion means the world to me. So enlighten me, brother.” Visenya asked, her voice sweet and soft.
She waited a few seconds, before calling for Mira, her oldest servant. Quickly after the double doors of her private quarters opened and Mira hurried inside. “Yes, Princess?” She brought her eyes humbly down to the ground after noticing that Aelor was now bathing along Visenya.
“Could you make sure Lady Haelle Bolton is invited for afternoon tea later today or tomorrow? And ask her to bring the child,” Visenya said with a smile. “You may go now.”

A Targaryen alone in the world
is a terrible thing.

[ bericht aangepast op 5 nov 2024 - 18:03 ]

Sisterhood Above All

5 nov 2024 - 17:59 Kiramman is offline

Kiramman 12090

kiren
wendwater
23 ✧ Dragonkeeper ✧ At the bathhouse

Kiren wasn't too sure why she was even at the bathhouse in the first place. Maybe it was due to the business of the preparations of the Dragon's Hatching festivities taking place at the Pit - there were more people around than she was used to, or liked in general, so she felt out of place there. A pity, because it was the only place in King's Landing she ever felt at ease. Or maybe it was due to the rumors that went around, whispering about the death of Elaena and its unusual circumstances. Ren would've thought six years to be sufficient time to investigate the death by the Targaryen family, but they'd barely batted an eye and Elaena's name had been nothing more than a whisper. But then this Pyotr had shown up at the Pit, two days ago. The same day Thorns had vanished after stealing that necklace. There was still no trace of her friend, which only left Ren worried and scared. Or maybe, it was all due to the fact that Rhaegar kept treating her like his own personal servant and she was fed up with it. Or perhaps, it was simply all of the above.
In a little alcove between two rooms, Ren plucked at the leftovers of a fruit plate, discarded by the princess' guests. Ren had heard the stories about the princess gifting leftover food to the whorehouses of King's Landing. It had been a choice, in her opinion, to gift to the brothels instead of war orphanages or to families of fallen soldiers during Aegon's Conquest. Not that anyone ever asked for her opinion.
Ren looked up when she heard voices passing by. In the little alcove, she was barely visible. Only if someone would actually look into the niche, would they find the young woman. All Ren has wanted since the ball, was to be alone. She wanted quiet. Solitude. Yet, the city of King's Landing had never been so loud. And now her dear friend had disappeared also, so Ren had never felt more alone.
She got up from her squatting position when the voices died down, and glanced around the corner. With no one in sight, she pushed herself out of the secluded nook, placed the now-empty platter on a small table in the hall and walked away. If someone were to catch her, she'd simply say she'd been diverted from the Pit to fall in as a servant to the high born guests.
A few doors down, Ren could her a harpist playing. Excited by the idea of it being Lethia, she stumbled forward and peeked around through the opened door. Who she saw wasn't the red headed woman she suddenly longed for, but someone else. Dark hair, less impressive. She was about to turn around, disappointed, when someone behind her scrapped their throat.
Startled, Ren stumbled back into the person and immediately lowered her head. ''I sincerely apologize!''

kindness is never a burden.

5 nov 2024 - 18:25 lustforlife is offline

lustforlife 1150

_{_{CEDRICK STARK}}
THE WILD WOLF

Lord of Winterfell • Warden of the North • 30 • with Haelle • on a balcony in the left wing of Aegon's Fort

Cedricks morning had been strange. The first whispers had reached him during breakfast. He had labeled them as complete bullshit. There was just no way. The second time around it was harder for the northener to ignore the rumour. Jonos Arryn had shared the information with him during a walk in the garden and he was not one to lie to the wolf. The man had tried to gain the favor of the Starks for a while now and would not come to the Lord of Winterfell with false information. Could it be?
Cedrick hurried back to the rooms that were given to the Starks in the right wing of Aegon's Fort. When he opened the door Lyssandra flung herself around his neck while Maester Luwin sat at the table drinking some tea.
"Promise me, Cedrick. That you will believe me!" She had heard the news. Cedrick sighed.
"I'm not sure, Lys. " His eyes darted to Luwin. "Jonos Arryn paid me a visit to share the news with me,"
Lyssandra jumped in at that. "Then it must be true! When has he ever come to us with false information. Please, we have to go look for her."
That made the Maester set aside his cup of tea and stand up. "Even when it is true, caution is necessary. She technically still is a Bolton."
The temperature in the room lowered at that. "Maybe in marriage, but we all know in her bones she is a Stark."
Cedrick could see the determination in his sisters eyes. "What do you suggest?" he asked the Maester.
"Haelle Bolton has not yet been seen in a public space and we do not know what the Boltons make of this whole situation. How hard it may be, let us wait and see."
Cedrick nodded. Lyssandra snorted. "May I remind you that we have a statue for her back in the crypt at Winterfell, because you wanted it Cedrick, but yeah sure leave her to deal with all of this alone." And with that Lyssandra walked back into her private rooms angrily.

These last couple of years Cedrick was not one to ignore the advise of Maester Luwin, but on the other hand he never ignored the wishes of his younger sister. So here he was scouring the left wing of Aegon's Fort to try and see if Haelle Manderly was indeed alive, while Lyssandra and Maester Luwin were doing the same in the right wing. He had told his sister to not get her hopes up. Losing someone once was enough. They didn't need to do it twice.
He moved fast as his eyes roamed past everything and everyone and then he saw her.
Sitting on a balcony in King's Landing was the girl he had played hide and seek with. The girl who once was destined to become a Stark. The girl he and his family had mourned. Here she was. Alive.
Cedrick moved forward in shock. He did not even notice the two guards until one of them stepped in front of him.
"Sir! Step back please, now.” It took all of his patience to not grab his sword and make them the ones who needed to step back. Haelle jumped to her feet and when she started speaking Cedrick just stood there. Utterly in disbelieve and frozen by the sound of her voice. Once the guards left he felt her arms around him and her body against his. He could give a flying fuck about etiquette. The northener pulled her in closer, inhaling the scent of her hair that once had been so familiar. There was so much to say. So much to unpack.
“Surprise,” she muttered.
"H-how?" was the only response he could manage. Tears pricked in his blue eyes, which he swallowed away. “You have grown a beard, about time." He laughed. "Yeah, someone once told me it would make me more handsome. I think she lied." Carefully the two let go of eachother and Cedrick took her in. He cupped her face with both of his hands. "I like it better, when it's not in stone." He muttered and reluctantly let go of her.
"We have some catching up to do.” You could say that. If this part of the rumour was true.. then.. anger washed away his surprise.
"I only need to know one thing." He sharply stated. "Who is responsible for all of this, Haelle?"

THE NORTH REMEMBERS

love me until I love myself

5 nov 2024 - 18:56 VaIya is offline

VaIya 1091

Doran Sand
^{^{Personal Guard to the Princess of Dorne}}

✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼

Fire and Blood, but not ours.
Post IV • 26 y/o • Bath House • with Kiren

The Targaryen Bathhouse was adequate. Nehemia had gone off to speak with Emrys, and though Doran wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it, he trusted she would be safe. Not wanting to intrude, he drifted away from Nehemia and wandered around the bathhouse on his own for a while. One would think the place would be crowded with high lords and ladies, and it was, but House Targaryen had big plans for King’s Landing, so the bathhouse was far too large to ever feel truly crowded at this point.

Eventually, Doran found himself in a secluded room, complete with its own bath, fruits, and drinks. And soon enough, he found himself in the tub as well. If the Princess of Dorne wasn’t going to behave perfectly, why should he?
Doran loved serving Nehemia, but on days like this, when she was safe and sound and off doing her own thing, he felt rather bored. Back home, he had his place among their people, friends, and occasionally a lover. In King’s Landing, the only love he knew was the music he played on his harp while bathing in the comfortably warm water. So he wasn’t complaining, playing a tune that transferred him back to the warm deserts he grew up in. He had even closed his eyes for a while, imagining the pomegranate trees and dornish cactus in his Father’s settlement.

He shouldn’t have done that. The door opened, revealing a pale young lady standing in the doorway. She hesitated, wanting to turn away, leave, and perhaps tell Doran. He quickly hopped out of the bath, covered himself with a towel, and cleared his throat. His daggers were still next to the tub, but he was confident he could gather them swiftly if the girl decided to run.

She stumbled back into Doran’s chest, immediately lowering her head as she said, “I sincerely apologize!”
No need for daggers just yet, Doran thought to himself. “Why don’t you come inside?” he proposed, taking a few steps back to give the girl some space. “I’m sure this is all an honest misunderstanding if we talk this through.” He honestly wanted to close that damn door again as soon as possible, no need for prying eyes or to bring shame to the princess. But he also didn’t want to cut his relaxing afternoon short if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Whoever this girl was, she looked as out of place as him.

The taste of vengeance is sweeter
than the taste of honey.

Sisterhood Above All

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