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

27 juli 2024 - 15:38 AzuIa is offline

AzuIa 1367

HOUSE
^{^{𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓}}

╓┈♔◦☓◦☙◦♔◦☙◦☓◦♔┈╖
rollentopic
praattopic • praattopic II • praattopic III
praattopic IV • praattopic V • praattopic VI
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 ]

evolve

3 dec 2024 - 18:09 Hennessy is offline

Hennessy 12264

kiren
wendwater
23 ✧ Dragonkeeper ✧ At the bathhouse with Doran Sand

Ren faltered in her movement when the man began to laugh. What was so funny? she wondered. Didn't the castle servants to the laundry? She raised an eyebrow at him, but continued collecting the washing, nearly toppling over by the size of the towels she was now holding.
When the man rushed to close the door behind them, a little panic began to rise in her chest. Her eyes shifted from him to the door, to the windows on her left, to the blades on the corner of the bathtub and she was already forming an escape plan in her head.
When he extended a hand, she unconsciously took a step back. ''You have to stop calling me 'Lord','' he said. ''Doran Sand. I am what you here would call a bastard. But the only thing I identify as is a lucky bastard... finding this empty room... and look at this!"
Everything was happening so quick. So the man wasn't a Lord but a Dornish bastard, who... snuck into the bath house? It dawned on her that she should call for guards and get him removed from the premises. He could be dangerous. Kiren knew little about the wars, but what she did know was that Princedom of Dorne remained the only independent region of Westeros. This man had more motives to assassinate the king than even Ren. She dropped the linnens she was holding and watched him dart across the room to a table with a bowl on it.
The hypocrisy of the situation was not lost on Ren. Two bastards in a place they shouldn't be. The man - Doran Sand - threw a ball from the bowl in the bath. ''Watch!'' he exclaimed, and both of them watched as the water turned a deep purple. Ren took another step back. Witchcraft, it must be. She didn't trust it, not without Lethia there. Who knew what those Dornish folks were up to - what Gods they worshipped. As he picked up his lute next, and played a merry tune, Ren almost laughed. The whole thing was ridiculous. She could already imagine her explaining it all to Lethia and a soft smile appeared on her lips.
"Want to throw one in too? I'll play a song to it, or you can if you want..." Doran Sand asked. And suddenly Ren envied him. This bastard, uncaring and unafraid, who entered the bath house not hidden within the shadows as Ren had, to catch a glimpse of the high class visitors - but simply to enjoy their entertainments like they were made for him. They were born the same - yet only one of them looked at the other with fear.
The sweet lavender smell coming from the bath, filled her nostrils. She found it a little too sweet to her liking, but also a happy change from the dank smells of the dragon's pit.
Warily, keeping her face and torso in the direction of the Doran Sand, Ren walked over to the bowl on the table and peered into it. Different colored balls and egg-like shapes filled it. They looked to be made from a sort of compressed sand or salt mixture. They didn't look like magic. They looked like something she could eat. Carefully she picked one up, smelling faintly of mints and herbs. She threw it into the bath and just like the previous one, it made a soft plomp noise and almost immediately began separating - leaving a trail of greens and blues in the water. The herbal scent grew thicker, mixed with the lavender, it almost made Ren nauseous.
''Kiren,'' she said, locking eyes with the man again. ''Kiren Wendwater. Bastard.''
And then she just stood there, awkwardly. She wanted to ask the man a million questions, but they all remained stuck somewhere in her throat. She didn't want to throw another ball in, for fear another smell to the mix would make her throw up, but strangely she also didn't want to leave.
So she just stood there.

kindness is never a burden.

6 dec 2024 - 14:07 AzuIa is offline

AzuIa 1367

DOMERIC
^{^{House Bolton}}

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷

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

Lethia pulled him toward the stones. She told him that she had ended up with the Targaryens during the conquests. She had been hurt and brought to one of the Dragon Lords’ war camps. There, she played her music, and one of the queens must have been charmed by it, and of course, she was.
“I had only been here shortly when Baelish arrived and came to tell me that you - that you…” That cockroach of a Baelish lied more than he breathed. Luckily, both of them had stopped now. The only silver lining. To Domeric’s relief the Targaryens had been kind to Lethia, though the city was still overwhelming.
“It’s just… it’s very much not like the North.”
Domeric held her hands in his, stroking the back of her hand as she spoke. “No, it really isn’t,” he agreed, laughing.
“Princess Visenya offered me the chance to be one of her ladies-in-waiting. It feels ungrateful to say I don’t want it, but I can’t really say no to her…” She squeezed Domeric’s hand.
“Lady-in-waiting…” Domeric repeated. “That’s big...” It must be the dream of so many girls in Westeros: becoming a lady-in-waiting for the princess. But Domeric couldn’t imagine Lethia in that role. She needed freedom and creativity, not a strict schedule to follow with the rules of court applying to her day in and day out. She needed to be free.
“Bear is living his best life. There are plenty of rats and mice here for him to feast on.”
“The capital is surely full of rats,” Domeric grinned.

She caressed the bruises on Domeric’s face. He would forever be too stubborn to see the maesters after a fight.“How is the Dreadfort?” she asked. “I… I suppose you are here for a new,” she swallowed, “a new wife?”
Domeric nodded slowly. “Was,” he corrected her. “I was here for a new wife.” He pulled the numerous scrolls from his pocket and held them in his hands. “With Haelle dead and you gone… after a while, Father didn’t take no for an answer anymore. I ran out of excuses many moons ago, so when Visenya showed up on her dragon with the invitation for the Ball… It’s like you said, you can’t really say no to her.” Domeric laughed softly. “So I went and danced with that Dornish lady, she was friendly for a Southerner. I wanted to talk with that Lion’s girl, you know, the blonde one. But then there you were.” Domeric smiled. “Up on the podium, alive and well.” He stroked her cheek. “Just as magical as I remembered you.”
Seagulls flew overhead, the sea touched the shore, and the air smelled salty. “So I beat the Prince,” Domeric continued casually, clearing his throat. “And this morning the ravens came.”He ruffled the scrolls in his hands. “Apparently, Haelle is alive. She’s here in King’s Landing. And has been seen with a child.” He hadn’t discussed it with anyone yet. It was a relief to share this shock. “So, surprise… no need for a new wife!” He tried to joke, but his laughter faltered. “Why couldn’t she stay dead?” He shook his head. He wanted to tell her he had all the answers, that he knew what to do, but he didn’t.
“What did you tell the Princess?”

Our Blades Are Sharp

[ bericht aangepast op 6 dec 2024 - 14:10 ]

evolve

6 dec 2024 - 15:48 AzuIa is offline

AzuIa 1367

Visenya
^{^{of the House Targaryen

✦ . 　⁺ Master of Laws ⁺ 　 . ✦}}

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

Visenya felt naked. Not because of the lack of clothing, but rather from voicing her fears aloud. What if what happened to Elaena could happen to her as well?
Aelor took hold of her hand and squeezed it firmly. It lightened the heaviness on her shoulders and made her heart jump. ''Nor will I. Vis, what happened to Elaena was her own fault. It won't happen to you, because you're not stupid like she was. You're smart. Careful. You know your place.''
You know your place. The words rang in Visenya’s ears. That was exactly the issue. Her place. What was her place? She knew what she envisioned. But what did her mother think? Her father? And what about Aelor and the other queen? That’s what Visenya was worried about. She thought it wiser to postpone that conversation to another moment. Instead, she turned on the tap, allowing the tub to overflow. Aelor raised a critical eyebrow.
''Would you like me to keep an eye on him?'' Aelor asked, referring to Visenya's acolyte.
Visenya looked up from the running water. “Oh, if you could, please!” she said, excited about the prospects of working with Aelor again. It had been some time since they’d shared a project, a secret. For the past few months, she had been working closely with Valerion, but he wasn’t Aelor. He wasn’t as passionate.

When Visenya asked about the deal their Father had with Lord Manderly, Aelor smirked. His eys lit up with amusement in a way that made Visenya hungry to pry more.
''I would, Vis, but I don't know what the deal entails. I just know Aegon wouldn't have send me personally for anything less than.'' Aelor said.
Visenya hummed as she sipped her cider, unsure if Aelor was telling the truth. “What did they do…” she wondered. “The city is full of strangers and secrets... I can’t stand it.” She played with the water at the rim of the tub, pushing it over the edge. There had been so many people at the Ball, and without a Master of Whisperers, Visenya didn’t know what everyone did that night or where they slept. She had eyes and ears everywhere in the castle, but she didn’t have the time in the day to analyze all these accounts. One week. She’d give herself one week to find a new Master of Whisperers. Before the next Dance, it should be settled.

Visenya pulled herself out of her thoughts and reached for the little bell that rested next to the tub. As soon as she rang it, her servants returned to the room.
“Princess…” She heard the hesitation in Myra’s voice. “What can we do for you?” The two younger girls instinctively tried to lift their robes from the water on the floor. Myra shot them a correcting look.
“Please hand me that purple vial from over there,” Visenya said, waving toward the table in the corner.
The youngest servant hurried through the room, her robes soaking on the ground, and quickly handed Visenya the vial while bowing.

“The acolyte was tasked with something else,” Visenya said, slowly opening the vial. “Myra, please close the doors.” She waited for the bath quarters to be closed off again. Now that the entire room was submerged by a few inches and steam hanging in the crisp summer air, she turned off the tap. “Let’s see if he succeeded…” she said, building the tension.
Slowly, she tipped the vial and let the contents slip out, dropping into the bathwater.
It took a few seconds, but then Visenya’s eyes lit up. Soon after the potion made contact with the water, the entire room was filled with heatless flames dancing above the surface of the bath and the floor. The younger servant shrieked, but Visenya had only eyes for Aelor. He looked even more beautiful among the flames. This is where he belonged. This was his place.
In the fire.
Next to her.
The flames would last a couple of minutes, Visenya had asked Pyotr to make sure of that. “I wanted to use it for Hatching’s Day. What do you think? My sweet little sisters would be ecstatic! Or should I save some for the next Dance? The fire brings out your grace like nothing else…” Visenya said, gazing up at Aelor and forgetting all about the others in the room.

A Targaryen alone in the world
is a terrible thing.

[ bericht aangepast op 6 dec 2024 - 15:48 ]

evolve

9 dec 2024 - 20:13 Hennessy is offline

Hennessy 12264

Ser Emrys Dayne
29 | Lord Commander of the Kingsguard | with Nehemia at the bathhouse

Emrys fought the instinct to defend themselves against Nehemia's offense that he was betraying Haelle by telling her about it. They knew she didn't mean it, anyway. Emrys knew Nehemia well enough to realize it was a defensive statement, but that she would've done the same had Haelle been her friend. So they just nodded when she suggested Emrys talk to their friend. They were planning on doing that - Emrys had already begun writing a new letter to send to her by tonight, hoping it would reach her before the end of the week.

Emrys winced only slightly when Nehemia snapped at them. They had often fought at Sunspear - but Emrys didn't remember them ever raising their voices at each other. ''And at least have the decency to look at me when you are talking to me. You are the Lord Commander for Gods sakes, not some weak little whimp.'' She said it so calmly and softly, it somehow hurt more.
Emrys raised their eyes to look at Nehemia. They swallowed another comment; that being lord commander and a little wimp didn't cancel each other out. But it was true, Emrys often felt themselves to be fraud and sometimes the armor and the Commander pin felt more like a chain around their neck, than a symbol of honor and authority. When they felt that way, they could always count on princess Visenya and Lady Emylia for words of commendation.
''And stop with that self-pity. It does not suit you and nor does it look good on you.''
If only it were that easy. To relieve yourself of self-pity meant encouraging the idea that it somehow wasn't your fault - and Emrys wasn't ready for that story yet. They did not reply, but with a straight back kept ahold of Nehemia's gaze. Emrys was glad of her words, however painful they were. And grateful they'd gotten the opportunity to apologize and explain. And now that they had, so there was nothing more to be done.
The Lord Commander faltered slightly when the princess of Dorne took a step closer. Emrys hitched a breathe and unconsciously took a half step back.
''There is no failure in what happened on the boat,'' she said with the same calmness. Emrys wished for a hint of emotion in her voice; something, anything. They braced themselves for her words, readying themselves for what she was going to say. ''No one is a match for an angry storm in the middle of the sea. There is failure in not coming home afterwards and leaving everyone wondering what exactly happened. I needed you and you were just gone as if nothing ever happened.''
Emrys swallowed. Their hands were shaking and they tried to steady them by clasping them behind their back. ''You are right. Of course you are right.''
Their mind took them back to that night. The high waves and thunderous clouds. The shouting of the ships captain on deck to the sailors. Ryon and Marella Martell in their quarters, frantically trying to come up with a solution to survive. Emrys remembered praying to the Gods; any God willing to listen. And then the ship capsized and all Emrys could breathe was water. They could still feel the lightweight Dornish armor pulling them down below the waves. They remembered ripping it off and swimming up and seeing nothing. No ship. No prince or princess. A few pieces of wood. And their whole life on the bottom of the ocean floor.
''When I awoke on a shore, I didn't know where I was,'' Emrys explained. ''Other pieces of the shipwreck must've washed ashore too, because the people who found me knew what had happened. I was taken in by a few knights on patrol, but remained bedridden for days. A few weeks later I went back to the beach to look for the prince and princess, but there was nothing left of the shipwreck. Like it'd never happened.'' Emrys looked away now, not towards their feet, but just slightly over Nehemia's shoulder, out through the open window. They could feel a warm breeze coming in. For a second Emrys forgot the sweat dripping down their brow. ''I could've returned to Dorne,'' Emrys raid matter-of-factly, returning their gaze on Nehemia. ''I could've. But the fact that I failed at the one thing - the only thing I was tasked to do - the thing I took such pride and honor in doing...'' Their voice trailed off. ''It ate at me from the inside until all there was left was a coward.''
Emrys readied themselves for another self-pity comment. But Nehemia would never understand the self-hatred they had felt - and continued to feel. To have a two people dying on your guard was harrowing and heartbreaking - but to have the mother and father of your greatest love, and the prince and princess of the nation you called home, die when you did nothing to prevent it from happening... ''If I could swap places, believe me, princess, I would in a heartbeat.''

kindness is never a burden.

13 dec 2024 - 21:12 maysiIee is offline

maysiIee 1178

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

“Not now, and not ever,” Pyotr replied. “When I took the oath to become a Maester, that future was ruled out for me. So, no tension either.”
“Oh, huh.” Maybe Rhaegar should tell Visenya that he’d take an oath as well, if she didn’t stop bothering him about his love life – or lack off. “And you… stick to that oath?” There were plenty of men who took celibacy oaths, but didn’t honour them for even a week. The only person he was sure who actually took it seriously, was Lord Commander Emrys.
By the Gods, how had he gotten himself into this situation that he was talking about women with a man he barely even knew. The Acolyte seemed to know Visenya well, though. Perhaps his sister had put the man up to this, for him missing the opening ball. He truly had some groveling to do. After his shift, he’d go and find her. Even if he’d rather just stay at the Dragonpit. He was wary of all the high nobles in the city. Dragons won the Targaryens the Conquest, and plenty of nobles desired a dragon all of their own. Needless to say he wasn’t pleased with Visenya’s plans for the Hatching Day. Rhaegar would need all of his dragonkeepers to keep an eye out. Ask Aegon for some additional guards. Or rather, ask Aelor if he could arrange it. He had more sway with his father than Rhaegar would ever have.

In normal caves and pits, temperatures drastically dropped when you entered them. In this one, they only rose. The beating of wings became louder, echoing against the walls. It was one of his favourite sounds in the world.
“How would you describe what happened to Princess Elaena? And to Calixte?”
Again with the questions. Elaeana and her death were a forbidden topic for the Targaryens. Not officially, but King Aegon and the Queens shut down every single conversation it. Rhaegar only talked about it with his siblings, in hushed voices. No one truly knew what about, apart from Aegon, Rhaenys en Visenya. And Rhaegar himself, but they did not know that - and hopefully would never found out that he did. He could only think of one person whose curiosity and missed longing could not appease her. For fucks sake, Visenya.
“You should tread carefully, Acolyte Pyotr. Questions about the Princess and Calixte are not a public matter.” He turned towards the other man. “Why are you asking?”

A familiar snarl sounded through the cave. Stormseeker came flying towards, her scales shimmering even in the darkness of the pit. She landed on a ridge near him and Pyotr, stones crumbling under her weight. A huff of hot air bellowed over them.
“Hello, lovely,” Rhaegar muttered affectionately.
Stormseeker leaned her head forward, bumping it against Rhaegar’s body before swirling on Pyotr.

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

13 dec 2024 - 22:45 AzuIa is offline

AzuIa 1367

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 stranger hesitated to match Doran’s enthusiasm, but the soft smile on her face gave him hope. Why pick up dirty laundry for some Lord or Lady when you could enjoy a beautiful summer’s day and get to know a stranger instead?
The sweet scent of lavender lingered in the air as the wary stranger walked over to Doran and joined his game. She took her time choosing a scented ball, picking one up with deliberate care. Tossing it into the tub, it landed with a soft plomp, releasing a fresh herbal fragrance that mingled with the lingering lavender. Doran made a face at the odd combination.
He played his harp, producing a nervous tune with all the wrong notes, a melody he thought suited to the unpleasant scent now hanging in the air.

“Kiren,” she said at last.
Doran stopped playing and looked up. Their eyes locked.
“Kiren Wendwater. Bastard.”
His eyes lit up as a wide smile spread across his face. “A bastard, you say?” he repeated playfully. With a dramatic gesture, he bowed low before Kiren and gently took her hand.
“It’s a pleasure that my path has crossed yours today, Kiren.” He kissed her hand the way highborn lords did with ladies.

Doran was about to propose drinking some of the plum wine he’d found in the room earlier, but soft murmuring in the hallway made him fall silent. He perched his ears. The voices were getting closer. Doran pressed a finger to his lips, gesturing for Kiren to stay quiet.
He took hold of her wrist, and with light-footed steps, first grabbed his clothes and daggers. Someone was trying the door.
“This shouldn’t be locked,” a voice said on the other side.
Doran looked at Kiren, silently he said “trust me” and nodded toward the adjacent room. Whoever they were, they seemed determined to get in. The rattling at the door turned into the sound of someone picking the lock.
“Who did this?”
“Maybe some of the newer guards. I’ve heard they hired someone from Flea Bottom. Bet it was their doing. Why would you ever hire such lowborn scum?” a second man said.

Doran slipped into the adjacent room through the sliding stone doors, gently pulling Kiren behind him. They were immediately met with a thick mist hanging in the air and an almost suffocating heat. Doran closed the door quietly behind them and let out a sigh.
This heat of the steaming chamber felt like home.
He pressed himself against the back wall, trying to listen to what was happening in the other room.
“Do you like the heat, Kiren?” he asked softly, a playful smile on his lips. For Doran, this was exactly what had been missing since their arrival in King’s Landing. A bit of excitement. A reason for his heart to race. And what was better than the thrill of nearly being caught?

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

[ bericht aangepast op 13 dec 2024 - 22:47 ]

evolve

5 jan 2025 - 20:39 Hennessy is offline

Hennessy 12264

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

Aelor was glad his sister beamed at the prospect of him aiding her acolyte on his little mission. He did not enjoy fighting with her - though he always would, if he thought it justified - and preferred having her as a friend than an enemy. Life could be lonely at court without allies, and Visenya should always remain his biggest.
''What did they do…'' Visenya looked into her cup of cider. ''The city is full of strangers and secrets... I can’t stand it.'' Aelor said nothing, only looked at her. So stay with me, he thought, but didn't say it. His hand brushed her ankle again. You and me.
Aelors gaze remained on Visenya's face as she ordered her servants around. And then her neck, her shoulders, the way her pale hair floated on the surface on the water and the patches where the water had turned it a darker color. Her slender hand cupping the goblet, one pinky held a little higher than the other fingers like she always did. Aelor liked to think he knew her better than anyone - better than Valerion knew her, certainly, although Aelor suspected Val would prefer it the other way around.
When Visenya tipped the contents of a new vials into the water, his eyes locked with hers again. The room was on fire. Literally and figuratively.
He raised his hand, cupping a bit of water and flames. It didn't hurt - it generally didn't hurt a lot, being in fire just became very unpleasant after a while - but this just tickled. Like the little fish they use in certain Pentosi bathhouses that nibbling at your toes.
''I wanted to use it for Hatching’s Day,'' Visenya explained. ''What do you think? My sweet little sisters would be ecstatic! Or should I save some for the next Dance? The fire brings out your grace like nothing else…”
The comment reminded him that she must still be annoyed he was late at the ball. He wondered how many times he'd have to apologize.
The flames reflected in Visenya's purple eyes, almost like a dance, a challenge, an invite. A call Aelor was all too eager to answer.
''It's magnificent,'' he said, softly. And then: ''Leave.'' His eyes remained on Visenya, but he was obviously speaking to her servants. When no one moved, he snarled again: ''I said get out!'' and pointed his finger towards the door. He heard scuffling and water shifting. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see one lingering in the door, the oldest one who Visenya had called Mya or Myra or something. Aelor's eyes flicked over to her, dark and dangerous. He raised one eyebrow. Finally she turned around and closed the door behind her.
Aelor placed a hand underneath Visenya's knee, the other on her hip and pulled her through the flames over to him, until she was seated on top of him. He brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. His hand lingered on the back of her neck and then dripped down her shoulder.
''You are also magnificent,'' he whispered a little hoarsely. ''But you know that already.'' He caught some more liquid flames in his hand and held it out between them. The fire in her eyes intensified. ''Tell me about your plans for Hatching's Day.'' He didn't actually care. But she did. So he had to listen. He looked at her mouth, leaned forward, so their lips nearly brushed, but let his hand find the cup resting on the border of the bath instead. He grabbed it and took a sip, leaning back again. ''What will you use this fire for? Pour it over drinks? Massive batches in Blackwater Bay?'' He lacked Visenya's talents of creativity and event planning. It wasn't something that their parents encouraged in the male heirs.

kindness is never a burden.

5 jan 2025 - 21:15 Hennessy is offline

Hennessy 12264

kiren
wendwater
23 ✧ Dragonkeeper ✧ At the bathhouse with Doran Sand

Ren let the man, Doran, kiss her hand. No one had ever kissed her hand like that before. Well, Elaena had, but that was different. Everything was different when it came to Elaena. She'd seen Lords greet their Ladies like that, had seen Rhaegar do it numerous times. She'd expected to feel flattered. Instead, she felt unnerved.
''It’s a pleasure that my path has crossed yours today, Kiren.'' Doran had said. Wrong, she thought. This is all wrong. She wished she was back at the Dragon's Pit. If only she could transport herself with a snap of her fingers. She'd have to ask Lethia if that was possible.
Ren was still processing the way he had greeted her, when Dorans hand wrapped around her wrist. She quickly gathered by the way he was tiptoeing around the room to gather his clothes and weapons, Doran was aiming for a quick exit. She could follow him, let him drag her around like a puppet. Or she could have him arrested. She still wasn't certain if that was even an option.
''... was their doing. Why would you ever hire such lowborn scum?'' Kiren snapped out of her mental prison in time to catch the guard's - she assumed it was guards trying to get in - final words. Lowborn scum. That included her.
She followed Doran.

Almost immediately, Ren started coughing violently. The room was filled with thick misty air and the heat quickly became almost unbearable. She felt like she couldn't breathe and the urge to flea kicked in again, only now, it was harder for her to orientate herself in the room, as there were no windows and seemingly only one door, the one they'd just came through.
Ren's heartrate went up fast. She felt it pounding in her wrist, where Doran had held her. He was pressed against the wall, his attention on the voices in the other room.
''Do you like the heat, Kiren?'' she heard him ask. Her eyes were tearing up due to her coughing fit. She tried her best to get it under control. Being caught in a bathhouse with a half-nude bastard Dornishman was one thing - there were ways to talk out of it - but hiding in one of the caldarium rooms with said half-nude bastard Dornishman. Ren didn't like her odds.
''No,'' she managed to say. ''No, I don't.'' She dropped to the floor, where the air was cooler and the mist less thick. She breathed in fast and out slowly. She pulled her legs up against her chest, circling her arms around her knees. ''I like cold water,'' she said after a beat. Breathe in. Breathe out. ''A refreshing sea breeze. Pushing my toes in cool sand. My mother's fish stew.'' She answered slowly and it became a sort of mantra to calm her down. What other things did she enjoy? ''I like the heat of the dragons,'' she admitted. Her eyes were closed. ''When it's cold out, I sometimes take a few steps closer to them, so I can feel the warmth of the fire of their breath.'' She chewed the inside of her mouth. ''I like to watch them soar through the sky. I liked to-'' she swallowed her words. To watch Elaena and Calixte, she wanted to say. She couldn't.
Ren opened her eyes. Doran was still pressed against the wall. Her cheeks turned bright red as the embarrassment settled in.
''Have they gone?'' she whispered, pushing herself off of the floor. She was more than ready to leave the bath house and this man far behind and return to the known environments of Aegon's Fort or the Pit.

kindness is never a burden.

18 feb 2025 - 20:23 AzuIa is offline

AzuIa 1367

Visenya
^{^{of the House Targaryen

✦ . 　⁺ Master of Laws ⁺ 　 . ✦}}

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

Visenya let herself be pulled into Aelor’s grasp, her body moving through the warm water and the heatless flames. He looked regal. He looked like a king, With the flames casting shadows over his sharp features, Aelor looked like the dragon he was meant to be. She rested her hands against his shoulders, anchoring herself to him.
He had always been her anchor, and yet he had also been the storm wreaking havoc on the stability in her life.
"You are also magnificent," Aelor whispered. "But you know that already."
Visenya did not reply, only let her gaze drop to his hand as he scooped up a palmful of the liquid fire.
"Tell me about your plans for Hatching’s Day," he said, his gaze flickered to her mouth. The space between them narrowed, close enough that she could feel his breath against her lips. Then, just as quickly, he shifted. His hand found the goblet resting at the bath’s edge, He leaned back, taking a slow sip, as if nothing had passed between them at all.
"'What will you use this fire for?" he continued. "Pour it over drinks? Massive batches in Blackwater Bay?''
How could the princess of the realm be jealous of a mere cup? Yet she was, as Aelor’s lips found it instead of her.
"You lack imagination, dear brother." Visenya teased. "But don’t worry, I'll make sure you see the full spectacle soon enough."
The flames crackled softly around them, but neither moved away. They never did.

So in their usual pacing, Visenya continued, letting her fingers trail up his jaw. "Hatching’s Day needs to be unforgettable," she said softly. "This fire will be a spectacle, but it needs more than that. The people must feel the weight of what it means to be Valyrian. They must be reminded why we rule."
Not waiting for his response, because she could almost hear Aelor's voice in her head: Reminded, or made to kneel?-- That was probably the sort of thing he would say.
"They have to be reminded and made to kneel," she whispered, her fingers tracing the line of his collarbone. "A festival of fire and blood. I want the dragons to fly over the city at dusk. I want the nobles to feast under our banners. And I want the people to stand in awe, knowing that none could give them such a night. No one, but us."
She stole the cup from Aleor's hand and sipped. "Someone has to remind the people. Our mothers are too busy ensuring our father’s reign remains unchallenged. Aegon only cares for strength and war, not festivities. Valerion..." She snorted disapprovingly. "Well, he’s content to be overlooked. But I? I see what could be."
Visenya leaned in, her lips nearly brushing his ear. "A world that belongs to us." She pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering just long enough to feel the warmth of his skin. "You always do, my dear brother. But I promise, it will be worth it."
The flames around them danced and Visenya dared to hope, that whatever the future held, they would face it together.
As fire and blood always should.

A Targaryen alone in the world
is a terrible thing.

[ bericht aangepast op 18 feb 2025 - 20:26 ]

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18 feb 2025 - 20:41 AzuIa is offline

AzuIa 1367

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

══════════════════

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

Pyotr barely flinched as the dragon's molten gaze settled on him, but internally he felt like screaming. He had seen dragons before, from a distance, but never this close. The heat radiating from her body pressed against his skin, the scent of smoke filled his lungs. He tried not to fear dragons. He respected them more than he did most men. Before him was a creature that held magic men couldn't.
But Pyotr was no dragonlord.
Stormseeker studied him, her massive nostrils flaring. He remained still, his hands calmly folded before him. He had read about what happened to those who showed fear before dragons. They were not like hounds that could be cowed by dominance or submission; they were forces of nature. And Pyotr was no fool.
Rhaegar, however, was entirely at ease, brushing his fingers over the dragon’s snout. It was a sight that might have been endearing if Pyotr didn't suspect the young Targaryen-bastard trying to distract him from his question.
So be it.
“I ask,” Pyotr said, eyes still on Stormseeker, “because I seek the truth.”
Pyotr finally turned had te courage to turn away from the dragon and to look at Rhaegar, taking in the sharp lines of the prince’s face. “The truth is never simple,” Pyotr said. “And you don't strike me as a man who believes in simple truths.”
Stormseeker let out a low rumble. Pyotr guessed she was restless, and maybe she could sense the tension between them. Nevertheless he kept his gaze steady on Rhaegar. He could panic later. Maybe even puke.
“There is a reason why no one speaks of Elaena and Calixte,” Pyotr said. "Why isn't she celebrated? Why are there no statue to remember her legacy? No streets in her name?" He was pushing it, but maybe Rhaegar needed someone to articulate these abnormalities out loud.
Pyotr exhaled slowly. He had pushed enough, for now. “Stormseeker is remarkable,” he said, changing the subject.. “I see why you favor her.”

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20 feb 2025 - 12:57 AzuIa is offline

AzuIa 1367

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

✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼

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

Kiren started to cough as soon as the heat of the caldarium took hold. Doran had always been accustomed to the heat, Dorne bred a certain resilience for it, but she clearly wasn’t used to this.
"Do you like the heat, Kiren?" He couldn't help the playful question slipping from his lips.
"No," She rasped. "No, I don't." She dropped to the floor and instantly Doran squated down with her. The air was cooler near the stone floor and the mist less dense.
Kiran had pulled her legs up against her chest, circling her arms around her knees. Doran sat opposite her, with his back against the wall of the caldarium, listening to the sounds in the neighboring chamber.
"I like cold water," she said.
Was she panicking? Not liking the heat was one thing, but panicking was another. Had he frightened her? The thought alone sent warmth rushing to Doran’s cheeks. The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable. Perhaps he had grown so accustomed to the closeness he and Nehemia had shared, on the boat and while fleeing from her families expectations, that he had forgotten to make space for others who weren’t as familiar with their boundlessness.
''A refreshing sea breeze. Pushing my toes in cool sand. My mother's fish stew.'' She went on, her words finding a rhythm, and were almost soothing. Doran didn’t interrupt, letting her speak, letting her find that steadiness.

"I like the heat of the dragons," she continued. He had been staring at the wall beside him, but this made him look up. He said nothing, did nothing. Kiren’s eyes were closed and Doran wandered what she saw when she spoke of the dragons.
''When it's cold out, I sometimes take a few steps closer to them, so I can feel the warmth of the fire of their breath.''
He immediately saw the pale woman nearing one of the dragons that the city held in its pit, it was a marvelous sight in his imagination alone, let alone the fact that this, apparently, was her real life.
''I like to watch them soar through the sky. I liked to-''
He hung on her lips, eager to discover where the sentence was going, but she swallowed her words.
When she lifted her head, her cheeks were flushed.
"Have they gone?"
Doran turned his face back towards the wall. The voices had stopped.
“They have,”
He pushed himself to his feet. “Come, let’s get out of here.”
Together, they stepped out of the caldarium, the cooler air outside a sharp contrast to the heat within.
“I’m sorry for this,” Doran said after a beat. “For the encounter, for the heat, I should have been more mindful.” A movement outside the window caught Doran’s eye. In the distance, a dragon soared through the sky, its wings cutting through the clouds.
“Look,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Maybe, the gods heard your prayer.”

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

evolve

20 feb 2025 - 13:27 AzuIa is offline

AzuIa 1367

Dragon Hatching’s Day Celebration
^{^{𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌}}

╓┈♔◦☓◦☙◦♔◦☙◦☓◦♔┈╖

Dragon Hatching’s Day Celebration

Date: Thirteenth day of the sixth moon, year 1 AC
Time: 17:30
Temperature: 23 degrees Celsius
Location: King’s Landing, with festivities spread throughout the city and a central ceremony at the Dragon Pit

Description of the Day
The Ceremony at the Dragonpit
As the sun sets and the sky is bathed in golden and crimson hues, the nobles gather within the vast halls of the Dragonpit. This grand structure, built to house the might of House Targaryen, now serves as the stage for one of the most important moments in the realm’s history: the hatching of new dragons.

Visenya Targaryen has left nothing to chance. The ceremony begins with a Valyrian ritual, calling upon the fire of the old world to grant new life to the dragons. As the eggs begin to crack before the eyes of the attendees, the first dragons rise above the city. At that moment, precisely at sunset, a fleet of adult dragons takes to the skies, a message to the people and nobility of Westeros: the dragonriders reign.
Simultaneously, liquid fire is poured out through the Dragonpit and into the streets below in enchanting streams of harmless flames. The people have been warned of its nature, it does not burn. It is a visual reminder that their rule is one of fire and blood, unmatched and absolute.

However, the question of whom the dragons will bond with lingers heavily in the air. Traditionally, the youngest Targaryen princesses are expected to claim them, but there are others eagerly awaiting a bond. Prince Valeron, younger brother to Prince Aelor and the late Princess Elaena, for example. He has long yearned for a dragon of his own, and tonight may finally be his moment. ~~It wont but he doesnt know that hehe~~
The truth remains: dragons bond to whom they choose, and anyone with the blood of old Valyria is a potential rider.

The nobles feast within the torchlit halls of the Dragonpit, where tables are laden with delicacies and exotic wines from Essos. Visenya’s liquid fire is served as a magical elixir, her secret weapon to make the night even more legendary.

Weather
As the day transitions into evening, the sky is a canvas of deep oranges and purples.
The air is warm, carrying the distant scent of the sea and the lingering aroma of roasted meats and festival fires.
A light breeze drifts through the city.

Current Situation
It is 17:30, and the festivities are in full swing. The city is alive with music and joy.
• In the streets: The common folk dance and drink, while beggars and pickpockets move through the crowds. Those who are not careful may lose more than just their coin purses.
• Inside the Dragonpit: The nobility indulges in luxury and spectacle.
• At the center of the pit are the dragon eggs: Tension is at its peak. At any moment, the first cracks may appear, a moment that will shape the future of House Targaryen.

Additional Information
• All guests from the debutantes’ ball have been invited, ensuring a noble audience filled with highborns eager to witness history.
• Visenya has entrusted Lethia with overseeing the evening’s smooth execution, ensuring that every aspect of the celebration proceeds without fault.
• Prince Aelor has been given a central role in the festivities, as Visenya remains particularly pleased with him at present. His presence is carefully orchestrated to reinforce House Targaryen’s unity and strength.
• The Hightower family has been invited as representatives of the Faith of the Seven, a strategic move by Visenya to strengthen the bond between House Targaryen and the dominant faith of Westeros. Their presence is a symbol of diplomacy, but also a test of loyalty.

The Night is Young, the Flames Dance, and the Dragons Come.

Aegon of House Targaryen,
the First of His Name

[ bericht aangepast op 20 feb 2025 - 13:29 ]

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20 feb 2025 - 15:56 AzuIa is offline

AzuIa 1367

Valerion
^{^{of the House Targaryen

The Spare}}

The Dragon Pit was alive with energy as the sun set over King's Landing.
Valerion Targaryen stood near one of the stone pillars, his tall figure almost blending into the shadows. His long, white-blonde hair was swept back from his angular face. Valerion, unlike his siblings, wasn’t here for the politics, the laughter, or the feast. He was here for something far more personal: to claim a dragon.
He watched the festivities with a distant look in his eyes. The highborn talked, laughed and were clinking glasses. He hated it all. Even though Valerion was here, he felt far removed from it all. But hadn’t that always been the case with him and his family?
As he began to walk he let his fingers brush against the smooth stone of the pillars. His place had always been here, in the shadows, the spare prince, a mere bystander in the great game of Targaryen power. With Elaena, his beloved sister, no longer here to keep the family united or for him to marry, to secure his position, he had become useless. And even though it was Elaena who had died, Valerion felt as though he was the one who no longer belonged to the living.

A flash of movement caught his eye. Princess Visenya stood at the center of the pit, greeting the highborn lords and ladies and ensuring the ceremony was carried out perfectly. Valerion's lips pressed into a thin line.
With a small sigh, he pushed himself away from the shadows. He made his way across the room, approaching the long table laden with delicacies and exotic wines. Some greeted him with polite nods, others with a touch of curiosity, but no one dared approach him too closely. He might be a prince without a purpose, but he was still a Targaryen. Especially after his fallout with Domeric of House Bolton during the ball, nobody wanted to be on his bad side.
Without a word, he settled into an empty seat at the center of the table that Visenya had reserved for him. Not the absolute center, of course, that remained the domain of Visenya and Aelor.
The servant nearest him immediately approached, a young man with a nervous glance.
"Your grace," the servant stammered, "may I offer you some wine?"
Valerion gave him a fleeting look. "Wine. Yes. The strongest you have."
The servant nodded quickly and poured a generous amount into Valerion’s goblet. Without hesitation, the prince brought the cup to his lips and downed the wine in one go. He barely even tasted it, but the burn was a familiar sensation.
When he set the empty goblet down, he caught the servant’s eye again.
"Another," Valerion ordered, his voice low and sharp.
The servant, visibly tensing, immediately complied. Did Visenya order him a drinking ban again? It wouldn’t be the first time servants ignored her ban, preferring to get a scolding from the Princess later rather than instigate a public scene with Valerion. As the wine was refilled, Valerion’s gaze returned to the center of the room. There, in the middle of the pit, the dragon eggs rested, their shells glossy in the fire.
Since the death of Elaena, his life had been a mess. But that would end tonight. Tonight was his night. Tonight, his life would change for the better.

Dreams didn't make us Kings...
Dragons did.

evolve

21 feb 2025 - 15:56 Hennessy is offline

Hennessy 12264

kiren
wendwater
23 ✧ Dragonkeeper ✧ The Pit

The fire in the center of the room was all Ren could focus on at that moment. In her hand she had a large hearth poke, but her fingers were softly tapping the metal rod, and even the slightest breeze could knock it out of her grip. The flames were like magic, dancing around the eggs, licking the shells. Every now and then, she could swear there was a crack and she could feel her body lunging forwards. But then it turned out to be a shadow, or a flame and the remained still.
She felt a drip of sweat running down her forehead. The air was hot, even hotter in the Pit and especially with the fire brazing. Next to her, another dragonkeeper - she thought his name was Elras - was commentating on the arrival of serval high lords and ladies, but Kiren wasn't paying attention. Only when he nudged her in the side and she nearly dropped the metal poke, did she give him her attention.
''What?'' she asked surprised and a little annoyed. He smirked, nudging her again and pointed subtly towards the head table, where only prince Valerion was seated at the moment.
''I said - looks like we're in for some more entertainment tonight.'' He was referring to the fight between the prince and Lord Bolton the week before. The prince was indulging in numerous glasses of wine, and it was still early so one could only imagine where that would lead. She averted her gaze from him and focused back on the eggs.
''Leave him alone,'' she replied. The relationship between her and the prince was an odd one. They'd grown up together - and Elaena - but since her death, it had all turned strange and awkward. She preferred staying out of his business now, and that of the other Targaryen royals. Well, all except Rhaegar, but he was barely a royal and also unavoidable as Master of Dragons. She wondered where he was.

Ren was tired of the festivities and the business in the city. She longed for the familiar chaos of King's Landing, without all the bells and whistles of the past weeks. Mostly, she longed to see her mother on Claw Isle. It must've been a year now, since she last saw her. She was certain her mother was still muddling along though, with her unwavering faith. To Ren her mother was a rock in the surf; she got beat up again and again, but remained steadfast. Cira had always stood her ground. She missed the sand between her toes, the weaving rope between her fingers, the screeching of seagulls and the salt in her hear. Maybe, after tonight, so could return home and take her mother far, far away from Claw Isle.
''You look sad,'' Elras nudged her again. If he touched her one more time, she was going to poke his eyes out with the fire iron.
''I'm not,'' she replied, and rolled her eyes.
''We should go and check on the fire,'' he said. She rolled her eyes again.
''Go on then.''
Her eyes danced over the crowd, looking for familiar or interesting faces. She had seen the mysterious person that broke into the Dragon Pit a couple of times after the Feast last week. He regularly came snooping around the pit, looking at the dragons. Rhaegar seemed bothered by his presence, so whatever the man was up to, Kiren was sure it was nothing good.
Prince Aelor had also visited the pit a number of times in the past week. She hated him. He treated his dragon - a beautiful black male - terrible, but sadly the dragon hadn't snapped his head off yet. It was bound to happen, though, Ren was sure of it. She only hoped to be present when it happened.
Elras left to check on the fire, and she followed, but a few paces behind. How easily he could trip and fall, and hardly anyone would notice, she thought.
She knelt down next to the fire, dodging a few escaping flames gracefully and examined the eggs for any cracks, any visible signs that one would hatch soon. There were three eggs, each a different colour and size. Of course, Kirens focus was on the smallest one, a dark red colour. Calixte's egg. Her only egg. Ren wasn't aware of its existence - if she had been, she'd have stolen it years ago. This was the last thing left of Elaena. She wasn't going to share it with anyone else.

kindness is never a burden.

21 feb 2025 - 20:46 Hennessy is offline

Hennessy 12264

TARGARYEN
^{^{^{^AELOR}}}
^{^{the cruel}}
24 ⚜ Prince of the Seven Kingdoms ⚜ The Pit

Seeing the liquid fire streaming down the hill into the lower city streets was like a fever dream come true. If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear the screams of agony, as the fire burned through the low folk and their houses until nothing was left but ashes. As if the war had never ended, but still raged on all around them. But then he opened his eyes and the screaming turned into laughter and music, and the fire wasn't burning, but rather dancing around everyone's feet, playfully licking their toes. There was no pain, no agony. Just disappointment.
Aelor tapped his hand against the hilt of his sword. The silver of his ring made a soft clanking noise when it hit the metal. It was rhythmic. Soothing. Dragons soared overhead, his own Baspian being one of them. One of the smaller ones, especially next to Vhagar - Queen Visenya's dragon.
Aelor looked over his shoulder to where his brother was sitting. Valerion looked small in the large chairs. A servant kept refilling his cup, as Valerions eyes remained steadfast on the eggs in the center of the room. Aelor wanted to laugh. Twenty-two years and he still hadn't given up on getting a dragon. Aelor's dragon had hatched in his cradle next to him, as had been the case for Visenya and Elaena. Valerion's egg never hatched. Even bastards had a higher chance to bond with a dragon than his brother did at this point.
He turned on his heel and walked over to the grand tables. Visenya had reserved a spot for him at the head, next to her. Since the day at the bathhouse, he'd successfully won back her favor and trust - among other things. He felt pleased with himself because of it, even more so that it earned him a place at her side, instead of Valerion. He didn't sit down on his own seat, but rather walked around it to reach Valerions and draped himself over the back of the chair with one arm, his left hip leaning on the handrest.
''It's early, brother,'' he said with a smile, but didn't look at him. Anyone paying attention would see Aelor's eyes didn't smile, and there was a sharp edge to his whole facade. ''Be careful or you might not notice the eggs crack.'' He placed a hand on Vals shoulder and quickly squeezed it, a little harder than what would be considered playful. ''We wouldn't want you to miss out again.''

kindness is never a burden.

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