[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

22 feb 2025 - 11:24 AzuIa is offline

AzuIa 1367

Visenya
^{^{of the House Targaryen

✦ . 　⁺ Master of Laws ⁺ 　 . ✦}}

Wearing • 22 y/o • Dragon Pit • with Kiren

Visenya sat at the high table, her goblet resting between her fingers as she listened to Haelle speak. The Dragonpit was far busier than usual, and after greeting most high lords and ladies, she now had her attention drawn to the heartwarming scene playing out near the edge of the room. Maisie, Haelle's daughter, was playing with Visenya's little sisters, Vaelyra and Saenys, giggling as the servants tried to keep them away from the fire and feast.
“They’re sweet together,” Visenya said. They were at an age where children were simply children—playing, free. It was hard for her to imagine Elaena, her brothers, and herself ever having been so small and carefree.
“I'm glad you've brought her,” Visenya added. Her gaze drifted past the crowd, settling on the fire in the center of the pit. The dragon eggs rested within the flames, their shells surrounded by the heat that would make them hatch in time, and kneeling beside them was Kiren.
Before Visenya could say more, someone settled at the table—someone who made Haelle’s entire body go rigid. Visenya didn’t need to turn her head to know who had arrived.
Domeric Bolton.
The man sank into the seat beside Haelle like he belonged there, which would have been true some years ago, but Visenya wasn't so sure anymore. And even though he sat down, the tightness around his jaw suggested he wasn’t entirely pleased about it either. His scarred fingers drummed lazily against the wood of the table, his other hand already reaching for the nearest goblet.
“Princess Visenya, Lady Haelle,” Domeric greeted, his voice low and rough. “You both look well.”
“Lord Bolton,” Visenya spoke, smooth and soft. She gave him a small, knowing smile and inclined her head. “A pleasure to see you so close to the heat. I hope it won't make you miss the cold North too much.”
“No need to worry about me, Princess,” Domeric said, bowing his head in return. “The pleasure is mine, and I’m happy to trade the cold North for the Targaryen heat if that pleases the Crown.”
Visenya reached beneath the table, giving Haelle’s hand a brief squeeze. Then she withdrew and rose gracefully to her feet.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Visenya set her goblet down and smoothed her crimson-red dress, made for the occasion. “There’s something I must attend to.”

She moved through the pit with ease, the way she always did at gatherings like these—never hurried, but never uncertain. Visenya felt at home in the political deep waters of the capital, and in the Dragonpit, bringing the two together made her feel as mighty as the dragons themselves. And as she stepped closer to the center of the pit, the warmth of the fire wrapped around her.
“It’s precious,” Visenya said to Kiren, coming to stand next to the Dragonmaster. “To have one of Calixte’s eggs finally ready to hatch.”

A Targaryen alone in the world
is a terrible thing.

[ bericht aangepast op 22 feb 2025 - 11:43 ]

evolve

22 feb 2025 - 11:52 AzuIa is offline

AzuIa 1367

DOMERIC
^{^{House Bolton}}

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷

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

Domeric had not wanted to come. Again.
He had spent the better part of the evening before thinking of ways to avoid this feast entirely, and if it had been up to him, he would have spent every moment at Lethia’s side. He had just gotten her back—after everything, after all the blood spilled and all the years lost—and yet here he was, trapped in the heart of the Dragonpit, seated beside the one person he had done everything to avoid.
The Targaryens knew what they were doing when they placed his seat next to Haelle’s.
They had not annulled their marriage. That truth sat heavier than his sword at his hip, heavier than the weight of all the eyes in the room that seemed to take note of his every movement.
The heat of the fire made his skin itch. He reached for the goblet—not because he wanted the wine, but because it gave his hands something to do other than curl into fists.

“Princess Visenya, Lady Haelle,” he greeted, his voice low and more rough than normal. It must have been the dry heat in the air of the pit. “You both look well.”
“Lord Bolton,” Visenya replied, smooth and soft. She gave him a small smile and inclined her head. “A pleasure to see you so close to the heat. I hope it won’t make you miss the cold North too much.”
“No need to worry about me, Princess,” Domeric said, bowing his head in return. “The pleasure is mine, and I’m happy to trade the cold North for the Targaryen heat if that pleases the Crown.”
He could feel Haelle beside him. They hadn’t looked at each other, and Domeric guessed she refused to meet his eyes. Perhaps it would have been easier if she had met them with anger, at least then, he would know where he stood. But this silence unsettled him more than any blade ever had.
Then there was the girl.
Maisie.
His eyes sought her before he could stop himself.
She was giggling and playing with Visenya’s sisters.
How old was she? Sixteen, eighteen months?
He swallowed, looking away before his thoughts could betray him further.
The timing made sense.
It made too much sense.
His entire childhood at the Dreadfort had been spent hardening himself, learning not to ask questions he did not want answered. That was the only way to survive in House Bolton. And yet, with every quick glance at the child, his mind worked against him.
He needed to know.
But he was not ready for this.
Though it seemed the Old Gods had never cared much for what he was ready for.
Domeric watched Visenya go, her crimson gown trailing behind her like a river of blood.
Was it intentional or was he the only one who saw the color red purely as a reference to spilled blood.
Domeric had never been a coward. But as he sat there, trapped in the heat and silence, he realized he had never felt more like one.
His fingers curled around the goblet again.
He should say something. He had rehearsed this moment in his head.
Now, sitting beside her for the first time in many moons, he found that every carefully thought-out plan had abandoned him.
So he did what came easiest.
He laughed, quiet and humorless.
“I wonder,” Domeric said, tilting his goblet, watching the dark wine swirl inside, “is it anger that keeps you silent, or regret?”

Our Blades Are Sharp

[ bericht aangepast op 22 feb 2025 - 11:52 ]

evolve

22 feb 2025 - 13:17 AzuIa is offline

AzuIa 1367

Valerion
^{^{of the House Targaryen

The Spare}}

"It’s early, brother."
Valerion would rather be eaten by a kraken than listen to the smug tone of Aelor’s voice.
"Be careful, or you might not notice the eggs crack."
His brother’s hand landed on his shoulder in a tight grip.
"We wouldn’t want you to miss out again."
Valerion clenched his teeth and gestured for another refill of his cup.
He took a slow sip of wine, letting it coat his tongue before swallowing. Only then did he glance up at his brother.
"Don’t worry, dear brother," Valerion said smoothly. "I see everything."
He both hated and envied the way Aelor basked in Visenya’s favor.
That could’ve been you, something traitorous whispered in his mind, if Eleana was still alive.

"Unlike you, apparently," Valerion continued, lifting his free hand to push against Aelor’s chest with minimal pressure. It wasn’t a shove, nor was it aggressive, it was almost playful or gentle in the same way one might push a stray hound off a chair when it had gotten too comfortable.
"This is not your seat, Aelor," he said. "Your place is over there," he nodded toward the center of the table, "at Visenya’s side... so long as you please her. Do you enjoy being her well-trained little lapdog, lying at her feet..."
Valerion tipped his cup back, downing the wine in one motion. A few drops slipped from between his lips, trailing down his face, but he hardly cared.
"What tricks can you do?" he continued venomous. "Sit? Lie? Roll over? Does she throw you a bone when you’ve been a good boy?"
His eyes found the eggs again, he was ready to move the moment they cracked.

A Targaryen all alone in the world
is a terrible thing

[ bericht aangepast op 22 feb 2025 - 13:18 ]

evolve

22 feb 2025 - 14:21 maysiIee is offline

maysiIee 1178

_{_HAELLE}
𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔶

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

Haelle wasn’t sure what to think of the Dragon Pit. The vast, open space should have made her feel free, but instead, it caged her in, the weight of too many eyes pressing down upon her. Too many people around still unnerved her, though her restless mind was eased with Visenya sitting next to her. She had received many pitiful glances throughout the week, but none of those had been from Visenya.
“They’re sweet together,” Visenya said, as they watched the young girls. Their soft giggles echoed through the pit. “I'm glad you've brought her.”
“I wouldn’t go anywhere without her.” And it was true, she wouldn’t trust anyone to take care of Maisie but herself. “I am grateful for your people though, for keeping an eye on her.” Yet, she couldn’t help to always keep an eye on Maisie herself.
A dark shadow sat down next to him. Silent and unrelenting, settling itself into the empty space at her other side. The scent that clung to him was the same, unchanged by time—woodsmoke, steel, and something distinctly him. Domeric.
Her entire body went rigid. Thus far, she had managed to avoid him. Her luck with the Old Gods was gone. Hands tightly clasped in her lap, so tightly the knuckles turned white. She stared at the goblet of wine in front of her. She hadn’t touched wine since she knew she was pregnant with Maisie. Not even after her birth. Not even in the worst of nights, when the weight of everything threatened to consume her whole. She barely noticed what he said, only looking up when Visenya left. Her eyes lingered on Visenya’s retreating figure, outlined by the fire. Making her body look ablaze.
Domeric laughed quietly
Haelle despised sitting next to him, even more so than she did a few years ago.
“I wonder,” Domeric said, his voice low and rumbling “is it anger that keeps you silent, or regret?”
She exhaled sharply through, forcing herself to remain composed. “I have been angry at the world for a long time, Domeric. Don’t honour yourself with thinking you are the sole reason for that,” Haelle replied stiffly. “Perhaps I am quiet because I simply do not have any desire to talk to you. You should know that by now.” For the first time in a long time, she set her eyes on him. Her expression carefully impassive, though her pulse thrummed with an old, familiar resentment. All she could see there was his father. A shiver ran across her spine. “What do you think it is that I should regret?” She picked up her goblet, holding it between her fingers, though she did not drink.

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

22 feb 2025 - 15:11 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 kiren and visenya • dragon's pit

His formal outfit was stifling. He much preferred to wear his Dragonmaster clothes. Dark and unobtrusive, allowing him to slip into the shadows whenever he wished. His current clothing was still black, but the red embroidery curling along the sleeves made him feel like a caged beast, dressed for spectacle rather than practicality. Still fireproof, for as much clothing could be fire repellent.
He had done his best to convince Visenya not to turn this dragonhatching into a grand spectacle. It was a celebration, but he believed it should an intimate one. Just for the Targaryens and their close inner circle. Not something for all the noble families in the kingdom to see as if it were some travelling circus. It had become an event for all the noble families in the kingdom, a performance rather than a sacred moment. It made his stomach lurch. They would gawk at the hatchlings, whisper about the bonding process. He had overheard some of them placing wagers on which egg would break first, who among them would be chosen. As if dragons were mere playthings.
To make matters worse, it wasn’t just one, but three eggs that were expected to hatch that evening. He should’ve just lied to Visenya about when he predicted the hatching would be. Knowing Visenya, she would just make the hatching celebration last for days. The dragonbabies would come into the world with the hysterics of nobles. May the Gods have mercy on them. Nothing prolonged, nothing dramatic—just a clean, swift connection to their destined riders so that they could all be done with it.
His steps were measured as he made his way over to where Visenya and Kiren stood, the two women contrasting each other starkly. Kiren, ever the practical dragonkeeper, wore her simple, soot-smudged clothing, her sleeves rolled up as if she were preparing for battle rather than ceremony. Visenya in her red finery. Visenya made sure that all Targaryen siblings-cousins were matching that evening. The two young women were staring at Calixte’s lone egg. The one she had left behind.
Rhaegar’s breath hitched slightly at the sight of Kiren, though he willed himself to remain composed. His cheeks warmed as his gaze flickered to Kiren, and he cursed the reaction as he had been doing all week. Bloody Pyotr and his assumptions. haegar couldn’t seem to think straight around her anymore.
“How are the eggs looking, Kiren?” he asked awkwardly, staying close to Visenya. “Do I need to watch out for screaming nobles already?”

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

22 feb 2025 - 21:12 maysiIee is offline

maysiIee 1178

𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒂
^{^solani}

court musician and dancer • lady-in-waiting for princess visenya • witch • 24 • dress • with saenys • the dragon pit

The heat of the Dragonpit was suffocating. The air was thick with the scent of fire and ash. Lethia yearned to dip into the cool ocean. Sweat clung to her skin, and her red curls, already unruly, had succumbed entirely to the warmth, wild and chaotic. Not able to withstand the heat.
Her gaze flickered to Domeric. It was odd to see him like that, all stiff and rigid. The brute that people talked about —cold, cruel, and merciless— but not the man that she knew. She saw the flickers of softness beneath the surface, glimpses of warmth carefully concealed behind the hardened exterior.
She had subtly suggested to Visenya that perhaps Lord Bolton could help her out with some errands in the city, as penance for punching Valerion. The princess was hesitant at first, but adding that it was busier in the streets now and that she’d feel safer with some company, had done the trick. Not that she needed any protection. She could protect herself better than Domeric could.
Domeric’s presence in King’s Landing eased her mind and made her heart flutter. Even if it was temporarily. She tried her best to ignore that for now. It was nice to talk to him about everything that was going on. Her stress and doubts with everything that Visenya was throwing at her. A week wasn’t enough time to get used to suddenly being a lady-in-waiting. Or the master of ceremonies. Lethia had insisted yet again that she wasn’t of noble blood and that she shouldn’t have a standing like that. Visenya had simply dismissed her concerns, unwavering in her decision. Lethia couldn’t fathom what Visenya wanted and her steadfast determination scared her a bit. Domeric did not understand her concerns. If it were up to him, he’d place the crown of the entire kingdom on top of her head and demand the realm bow before her.

A little flurry of blonde hair ran past her. Saenys, having escaped from the servants. Lethia stepped forward and scooped up the toddler before she could get any closer to the fire. Targaryen or not, Lethia did not believe them to be fireproof.
“Not so fast, little one.”
Saenys wriggled in her grasp, pouted and pointed at the fire. “I want fire!” she huffed.
Lethia’s lips twitched with amusement “You can go the fire when the eggs go crack, alright?” Lethi bargained, adjusting the child on her hip.
The little princess was about to protest some more, but was interrupted by a loud yawn.
“Did you not have your nap?”
“I did have sleepy!” Saenys declared with the conviction only a child could possess. “But I much happy.” She spread out her arms in a big gesture. “So I no sleepy.” She yawned again and put her head on Lethia’s shoulder. Tiny fingers curling into the fabric of her dress.
Lethia glanced down at the child’s hand, noting the small scrapes across her palm.
“I fell. Now bad auwtch.”
She had to refrain herself from not healing the wound right then and there, no matter how small it was. “Did you know the secret to make a bad auwtch go away?” Lethia lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper
Saenys shook her head, eyes big.
“You do this…” Lethia pressed a kiss on the palm of Saenys’ hand. “And tomorrow the bad auwtch is gone.”
Saenys blinked, considering this solemnly. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
Satisfied, the little princess yawned again, curling against Lethia with a contented sigh. Lethia held her close, gaze drifting back to Domeric. She wondered if he had ever been held like this, soothed with such simple comfort. Somehow, she doubted it.

all the lights are sparkling for her

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

23 feb 2025 - 21:52 Hennessy is offline

Hennessy 12264

kiren
wendwater
23 ✧ Dragonkeeper ✧ At the pit with Visenya & Rhaegar

As Ren heard footsteps approaching, she glanced out of the corner of her eye to see who it was. Princess Visenya. She swallowed and stood up swiftly before the princess halted next to her. Ren bowed her head and placed her hands behind her, clasping the fire poker in between them.
''It's precious,'' the princess spoke, ''to have one of Calixte's eggs finally ready to hatch.''
Ren made a little bow, as was accustomed when speaking to royalty and swallowed again. She kept her eyes fixated on the hem of the princess' dress. Her relationship with the princess was much different from the one she had with prince Valerion, and even more different than prince Aelor. Ren had always suspected Visenya knew more about her and Elaena then she'd let on, but she also knew the dangers in that - and what would happen if Visenya were to ever press her on the matter. There were few women Ren feared, but princess Visenya Targaryen was certainly one of them. And the fact the princess chose now, today, to come speak with her, did not bode well.
''Yes,'' Ren answered, a little hoarse. She cleared her throat. Her gaze remained averted from the princess' face. She stood with her back towards the eggs now, and her entire body ached to turn around. Uncertain on what else to say, she played around with the poker between her fingers. There were a million things she wanted to ask Visenya: why nobody had ever told her about Calixte's egg, what exactly she knew - or what she thought she knew, if there was anything else left of Elaena that they were hiding from her? Never in a million years would she be able to ask any of them, nor would she dare to dream to get answers.
Luckily, Ren got saved.
''How are the eggs looking, Kiren?'' Rhaegar's voice sounded like music to Ren at that moment. She exhaled a breathe she didn't realize she was holding and looked up at him. He was red in the face and looked cleaner than she'd seen him in a while. The red accents on his sleeves did not go unnoticed to her. He looked like a chained dog. It made her a little angry. ''Do I need to watch out for screaming nobles already?''
Kiren made another curtesy, something she never did when it was just them in the pit - or them and the other dragon keepers. But she knew Visenya would expect it, as Rhaegar ranked above her - in blood and authority alike.
''No cracks yet,'' she replied, looking him directly in the eye. ''But I shall remain here and report any changes to you straight-away.'' What she really wanted to say was: back off, this one's mine. Instead, she averted her eyes again, bowed to them both and resumed her position near the fire; her eyes locked on the eggs.

kindness is never a burden.

23 feb 2025 - 22:17 Hennessy is offline

Hennessy 12264

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

Aelors eyes followed Valerions hand movements, until it rested on his chest. He raised an amused eyebrow.
"This is not your seat, Aelor. Your place is over there," Valerion said, almost bored. Aelors eyes followed the movement again, towards Visenya's seat. "At Visenya’s side... so long as you please her. Do you enjoy being her well-trained little lapdog, lying at her feet..." Wine trickled down Valerions chin. ''What tricks can you do? Sit? Lie? Roll over? Does she throw you a bone when you’ve been a good boy?"
Aelor laughed loudly. The volume of it made a few servants and highborns turn their heads towards the two brothers, curiously, as if they would love to know what was so funny. Aelor waved them off with a simple hand motion. He pushed himself off of Valerions chair and dropped down in a squatting stance next to him.
''Jealousy does not become you, brother,'' he replied; eyes dark, the corner of his lip curled slightly upwards. ''Did you enjoy filling my place during my absence? Or was there always a small part of you that knew, you would always remain second place.''
Aelor took Valerions empty cup of wine in his hand, twirling it around absent-mindedly. The servant that was pouring Valerions wine previously, stumbled forward to fill the cup for Aelor. He held up his hand, tutted his lips and waved a 'no-no' to the servant. She bowed her head and stepped backwards. And then, he flicked the cup away. It bounced on the table twice, rolled off and with a loud 'clank' hit the floor.
''Second to the crown,'' Aelor continued. ''Second to the girl.'' He looked at Visenya, standing next to the firepit where the three eggs were being kept warm. ''Third in father's favour.'' He faced Valerion again and pouted. With fake compassion he patted Valerion on the shoulder, but let his hand stay there again, squeezing a little harder than the last time. He used Valerions shoulder as a handle to get back up, back straight, head raised.
He looked at Visenya again and smiled. She looked gorgeous with the warmth of the fire on her face, her liquid dragonfire shimmering behind her. Then he turned back to Valerion and bowed forward until his mouth was close to his brother's ear.
''You call me a lapdog, but it is me in her bed at night, keeping her warm, pleasing her,'' he whispered. ''It is my name she screams. And don't forget, brother, even lapdogs have teeth.'' He didn't wait for a reply, but patted Valerion on the shoulder once more, before he sauntered off.

kindness is never a burden.

24 feb 2025 - 20:10 AzuIa is offline

AzuIa 1367

Valerion
^{^{of the House Targaryen

The Spare}}

Aelor laughed, loud and sharp, the sound echoing through the pit. It made Valerion’s insides cringe. A few servants and nobles turned their heads. With a fluid motion, Aelor pushed himself off Valerion’s chair and squatted beside him.
"Jealousy does not become you, brother," Aelor said. The corner of his lip curled in something that was not quite a smile. ''Did you enjoy filling my place during my absence? Or was there always a small part of you that knew, you would always remain second place.''
Valerion’s knuckles whitened through his firm grip on his cup. He despised how Aelor usded the truth as a blade, because yes, he had enjoyed his absence. Filling his place and standing at Visenya’s side had him taste the life he could’ve had. If Aelor wasn’t around. He’d never admit it, but there were nights were Valerion prayed his brothers life would be taken from in on the Conquest.
Aelor reached for the cup in Valerion’s hands, rolling it absentmindedly between his fingers. The servant who had been tending to Valerion stepped forward to pour. Aelor tutted, lifting a single hand to wave her off. She bowed her head and retreated. Then he carelessly flicked the cup away. It bounced against the table twice before rolling off, hitting the floor with a sharp clank.
"Second to the crown," Aelor continued. "Second to the girl."
Aelor’s purple-blue eyes flickered toward Visenya, who stood by the firepit, where the dragon eggs lay nestled in their bed of embers. Valerion looked too. The flames painted her and Kiren in hues of gold and crimson.
"Third in Father's favor."
Valerion’s jaw tightened, his fingers clasping the armrest of his chair. Aelor turned back to him and a hand landed on Valerion’s shoulder, too firm, too knowing. Aelor squeezed, using him as leverage to rise. The arrogant ass. It was like he was putting on a show, although it was unclear who the designated audience was. Was it him? Or rather his sister, to whom Aelor gazed again, smiling. Then, slowly, he leaned down, lowering his mouth close to Valerion’s ear.
"You call me a lapdog, but it is me in her bed at night, keeping her warm, pleasing her," Aelor whispered, his breath hot against Valerion’s skin. "It is my name she screams. And don’t forget, brother—even lapdogs have teeth."
The rumors were true?
The thought made Valerion sick. He had considered it before, of course, since whispers about his siblings spread like fire through the capital. And yet, he had never fully believed it. How could it be true? Their parents were together, yes, but they were the exception. When they betrothed him to Elaena, he had seen it as duty, not desire. If anything, Valerion’s taste was for anyone but blondes. Blonde meant family. Blonde meant competition. Blonde meant never being safe.

Aelor patted Valerion’s shoulder once more, patronizing, before turning on his heel and sauntering off, without care, without consequence, as if he had already won.
But he hadn’t.
Valerion barely registered the sound of his own chair scraping against the stone floor as he stood. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the rage, that made his pulse thrump in his skull.
He caught up to Aelor within seconds.
Then he grabbed him by his arm.
Hard.
“I am glad Elaena isn’t here to see what a disgusting man her twin has become.”
The words left Valerion like venom, whispered in Aelor’s ear.
He took a step back, needing distance before his hands curled into fists, before his anger made him do something worse.
And then he bumped into someone.
Soft silk brushed his left arm, and the faint scent of incense curled hung in the air.
Valerion turned—
And met the sharp, knowing gaze of Nashayana Hightower.

A Targaryen all alone in the world
is a terrible thing

[ bericht aangepast op 24 feb 2025 - 20:31 ]

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24 feb 2025 - 21:08 AzuIa is offline

AzuIa 1367

Visenya
^{^{of the House Targaryen

✦ . 　⁺ Master of Laws ⁺ 　 . ✦}}

Wearing • 22 y/o • Dragon Pit • with Kiren

"It's precious, to have one of Calixte’s eggs finally ready to hatch."
Kiren made a little bow and kept her gaze lowered. ''Yes,'' She replied, her voice a little hoarse.
Visenya took her time to study her, watching the way Kiren’s fingers fidgeted with the poker.
She had often wondered how much Kiren knew, how close she really was. To Elaena. To their family. Often in the past months Visenya had wondered of the things she had seen and chosen to keep close to her chest. The little whispers between her sister and the dragonmaster, shared glances that would not be noticeable to an unobservant eye, kind words spoken by her sister of the girl besides her. It wasn’t anything, but it also wasn’t nothing. So Visenya wondered.

''How are the eggs looking, Kiren?'' Rhaegar interrupted before Visenya could continue her conversation. Something about his voice was off and Visenya almost felt bad. Rhaegar wasn't too keen on large gatherings, but she asked him to come. “Do I need to watch out for screaming nobles already?”
Kiren exhaled a little too loud for Visenya her liking.
Kiren made another courtesy. ''No cracks yet,” It didn’t escape Visenya that the dragonmaster would look Rhaegar in the eye while still avoiding facing her. ''But I shall remain here and report any changes to you straight-away.''
When Visenya's gaze shifted from Kiren to Rhaegar, she noticed his cheeks were redder than usual for someone with Targaryen blood near fire.
There was much heat.
And Visenya suspected not all of it came from the fire.
“Rhaegar,” Visenya greeted her bastard brother, kissing his cheek, as he seemed too overwhelmed to greet his own sister. “Each celebration shared with you becomes all the sweeter. How long do you think it will be before—”
A sharp laugh cut through the air.
She knew that laugh a little too well not to look around.
So Visenya turned her head slightly and to find him. What was Aelor up to....
Valerion?.
Her stomach twisted, but she forced her expression to remain composed as she watched.
Her brothers stood at the high table. Aelor was leaning in close to Valerion, his stance a little too casual for Visenya her liking. It meant trouble. His lips curled into something which wasn’t his smile, Visenya knew his smile, and what she saw now was something entirely different. She didn’t need to hear the words he spoke to know what he was doing. He was twisting the knife.
Valerion’s knuckles turned white against the cup in his hand.
Aelor pushed himself off Valerion’s chair, crouching beside him. A performance. For whom? Visenya followed his gaze, and for the briefest moment, their eyes met. Her breath stilled.
Her.
Aelor turned back to Valerion. Then, suddenly, his hand was on Valerion’s shoulder, gripping tightly. What was he saying? Visenya couldn’t read his lips and before she noticed the moment was gone and Aelor had walked away.
But then Valerion stood.
The sound of his chair scraping against stone was sharp, and Visenya felt the shift in the room before she saw it. High lords and ladies turned their heads.
Her hand found Kiren’s arm, steadying herself.
Visenya knew better than to step in now.
Valerion grabbed Aelor. He whispered something in his ear.
Then—her ladies-in-waiting arrived.

"Princess?" One of them, Seraphina Celtigar, was the first to reach her. "Do you need assistance?"
Another, Lyessa Darklyn, placed a light hand on Visenya’s shoulder, searching her face. "Shall we call for the guards?"
Their voices were a delicate murmur, ever so careful.
Visenya exhaled, forcing herself to relax. It would do no good to show concern, not now, not in front of so many eyes. But later, her brothers would get the scolding they deserved. Valeriot at least. Aelor she wasn’t so sure…
"Fetch me something to drink," she instructed, her voice carrying the same authority it always did and forcing herself not to bring her gaze to Aelor and Valerion again. "And bring something for Kiren as well. Her voice was a little hoarse earlier, she must be thirsty." She cast a sweet smile at the dragonkeeper beside her.
"And Rhaegar, too," Visenya added, her eyes moving toward him. "The warmth of the Pit has settled in my brother’s cheeks."
At that the three ladies turned to carry out her request. Visenya watched them weave their way through the crowd before turning her attention back to Kiren, still gently holding on to her arm.
"Tell me, Kiren," Visenya said at last, a playful smile on her lips, "do you ever see the same fire in Rhaegar as the one my brothers just displayed? I only hope it doesn’t distract him from his work here or trouble you. I couldn’t imagine my other brothers working in the Dragonpit without getting more inflamed than the dragons themselves with their temper."

A Targaryen alone in the world
is a terrible thing.

[ bericht aangepast op 24 feb 2025 - 21:23 ]

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9 maart 2025 - 11:08 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 kiren and visenya • dragon's pit

Kiren curtesied, something that was so uncommon between them that he just simply stared at her. Something he’d perhaps tease her with latter, if he weren’t so miserable himself. Rhaegar never expected the dragon keepers to curtesy to him. He’d rather be their friend, than their prince. What use was a bastard prince anyway?
“No cracks yet.” She stared at him. “But I shall remain here and report any changes to you straight away.”
He nodded his hand gratefully. He preferred to be the first to know, for a number of reasons. One of them being that he only trusted one of his half-sibling-cousins with the dragons and that one was standing next to him.
“Rhaegar.” Visya kissed his cheek. “Each celebration shared with you becomes all the sweeter. How long do you think it will be before—” She was interrupted by a loud laugh that echoed through the pit, like the dragon’s roars normally did. It was not kind or joyous laughter, but cruel and malicious. Rhaegar didn’t need to look to know whom it belonged to. He kept his violet eyes steadily on the eggs. Meddling in family business wasn’t for him, only doing so when it concerned his mother, Visenya or one of his young half-sisters.

Visenya’s everpresent ladies-in-waiting arrived. He almost believed that the girls had some shadowwielding abilities, with how they always suddenly showed up out of nowhere. His sister gave them some instructions and Seraphina and Lyessa disappeared into the crowd, as quickly as they had arrived.
“Tell me, Kiren," Visenya started, “do you ever see the same fire in Rhaegar as the one my brothers just displayed? I only hope it doesn’t distract him from his work here or trouble you. I couldn’t imagine my other brothers working in the Dragonpit without getting more inflamed than the dragons themselves with their temper.”
He nearly choked on his own spit and coughed, glaring at Visenya. “What kind of question is that?” He was both mortified, embarrassed and annoyed. “Someone with a volatile temper should never work with dragons,” he muttered. The dragons reacted strongly to it. If someone couldn’t keep their own emotions in control, they hardly could be trusted to ‘control’ their dragon.

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

12 maart 2025 - 17:57 AzuIa is offline

AzuIa 1367

DOMERIC
^{^{House Bolton}}

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷

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

Haelle had always despised sitting next to him. She had it on their wedding day and she still did now. Domeric could feel it in the way her body tensed next to him, in the rigid line of her shoulders, in the careful way she avoided his gaze.
She had never been a particularly soft woman and it hadn’t bothered Domeric, he didn’t long for a woman like that in the first place. Still, he hoped his wife would at least look at him with more kindness and warmth than he had known at the Dreadfort all his life. He heard love stories. And perhaps had naively hoped to live one. With her.
That never happened though.
And now, they sat as strangers.
Domeric doubted if they had ever been more.
“I wonder, is it anger that keeps you silent, or regret?”
Haelle exhaled sharply through.“I have been angry at the world for a long time, Domeric. Don’t honour yourself with thinking you are the sole reason for that,” she replied, her voice stiff. “Perhaps I am quiet because I simply do not have any desire to talk to you. You should know that by now.”
The words did not cut, but the apathy in them did.
"Perhaps I am quiet because I simply do not have any desire to talk to you. You should know that by now.”
And then, for the first time in what felt like years, she looked at him.
Distant.
Suspicious even.
It reminded him of how others looked at his father.
For all his life, Domeric had done everything to be nothing like his father, Lord Bolton. He had tried to fight against the cold manners and quiet cruelty of his House. And yet, sitting here, he wondered if it had ever mattered, if, in the end, she would only ever see him as his father’s son.
“What do you think it is that I should regret?” Haelle asked, lifting her goblet, turning it between her fingers though she did not drink.
Domeric clenched his teeth as he watched the warm glow of the pit’s fire flickering across the sharp lines of Haelle’s face. A servant filled Haelle’s cup and Domeric waited until the young man was out of hearing’s reach.
"I wonder if you regret keeping a child away from their father." He bit, speaking softly but his words icy, a stark contrast to the heat of the pit. "You are not dead. Our marriage is still binding, and therefore that child" He nodded towards the little girl playing amongst the Targaryen children, her dark hair standing out amidst the silver blonde, "bears the Bolton name. My name."

Our Blades Are Sharp

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12 maart 2025 - 21:50 Hennessy is offline

Hennessy 12264

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

A hand gripped Aelors arm as he was walking away. He smiled. He had expected this. The strong grip of his cousins hand, made Aelor tense his muscles - the biceps and triceps flexing, as if to break free.
''I am glad Elaena isn’t here to see what a disgusting man her twin has become.'' Valerion whispered. Aelor could hear him clenching his jaw. He laughed again. Loud and forthcoming.
''At last we agree on something, brother,'' Aelor smirked, without turning around. He said it loud enough so Valerion would definitely hear it - no matter how far he'd retreated back. All this talk about Elaena bored Aelor. He grabbed a goblet of juice from a platter and sauntered off, in the direction of a certain fire-haired woman.

''Hello, little songbird,'' Aelor spoke to Lethia's back. On her hip, she was carrying a little white-blonde girl. ''Can we expect another performance tonight?'' He leaned against one of the pillars in the pit, gently stroking Saenys cheek. She looked tired. Aelor didn't particularly care much about Visenya's little sisters, which the little girl probably sensed, as she pushed her face a bit deeper into Lethia's dress.
''Oh no wait,'' the prince said and sipped from the cup. ''You received a promotion, didn't you?'' Visenya had told him about making Lethia into a lady-in-waiting, instead of just the court musician. He'd laughed, before realizing she'd been serious. The position of handmaiden to the princess was an honor reserved for ladies of respectable houses, not common Essosi slaves.
''No more entertaining lords with the qualities of your mouth,'' he continued. ''I mean, voice. Unwavering fealty to our dear hostess.'' He eyed her, head to toe. The orange tones of her dress made her hair even more red - and a little gust of wind made it dance in the air like the crackling licks of fire in the hearth. He looked away, to the dragon eggs and Visenya, but his view was obstructed by a group of Highborn attendants.
''We have that in common, you know.'' He sipped from his drink again. ''How did you find Visenya's sea of dragonfire? Astonishing, isn't it? I bet you never saw anything like it in the east.'' Essos held a lot of mysteries, and Aelor had seen a fare share of extraordinary goods and events, but nothing quite beat the thrill he got from seeing dragons, and dragon fire.

kindness is never a burden.

16 maart 2025 - 21:30 Hennessy is offline

Hennessy 12264

kiren
wendwater
23 ✧ Dragonkeeper ✧ At the pit with Visenya & Rhaegar

Why, Gods, why? Kiren wondered. Why now do two Targaryen royalty show interest in me? Of all the days they can come bother me in the Pit, they choose today.
She didn't watch them greet each other, but it sounded warm and comfortable. It should surprise her, to see someone of Visenya's status greet her bastard brother with such familiarity; it was not common at all among the great houses. Yet, for some reason, she wasn't shocked. Maybe Rhaegar just had that effect on people. She doubted that.
Some loud laughter cut Visenya's sentence in half. Kiren looked up for a second and her eyes found the culprit in no time. Prince Aelor the cruel. She'd heard many stories about him during the war. Even from afar Ren could feel the coldness radiating off of him. The Lords Bolton or Stark couldn't hold a candle to it. He was clearly harassing his younger brother.
Whenever she saw Aelor enter the Pit, she'd hide and make him someone else's problem. He was impatient, rude and terrible to his dragon and Ren just knew that one day she would snap and yell obsceneties at him. That day would also probably be her last on earth, so she tried to prevent an outburst whenever possible.
Her gaze shifted back on the eggs, just in time to see a flash of Seraphina Celtigar go by. Instantly, Ren lowered her head, so the handmaidens wouldn't see her face. She didn't know Seraphina personally and their paths barely crossed, so Kiren had no reason to suspect the other woman would ever recognize her as the bastard child to her deceased uncle. But it was a reflex. She couldn't help it.
Visenya instructed them to fetch her a drink, but also, to Kiren's surprise, a drink for her. The subtle stab to Rens hoarseness didn't escape her notice. She thanked Visenya curtly yet respectfully. She felt the princess' hand around her arm and looked sideways at her, so she could still see the eggs out of the corner of her eye.
"Tell me, Kiren, do you ever see the same fire in Rhaegar as the one my brothers just displayed? I only hope it doesn’t distract him from his work here or trouble you. I couldn’t imagine my other brothers working in the Dragonpit without getting more inflamed than the dragons themselves with their temper."
Ren tried to show no emotion, but a little smile curled up the corner of her mouth.
''What kind of question is that?'' Rhaeger said, after he nearly choked on his own spit. Ren raised an eyebrow at him. He was looking rather flushed, as Visenya had mentioned. Kiren wondered why. She knew he didn't enjoy formal functions, but as far as she could tell he'd hardly spoken to anyone yet so there seemed to be no reason for embarrassment. And then, under his breath, he muttered: ''Someone with a volatile temper should never work with dragons.''
She held in another laugh, and waited until she'd straightened her face before replying to the princess: ''I have not, your Grace. Although it is not my place to be a judge of your brothers' tempers,'' she added quickly. She didn't want to offend Visenya by agreeing with her on the flammability of the princes. ''The Master of Dragons shows a calm temperament with the dragons and the other keepers.'' It took her some effort to pick out only the positive qualities of Rhaegar's disposition. She wanted to add that he was tense, sometimes careless and impulsive, that she often found him sleeping next to his dragon. Dragons were magnificent beasts, but it remained a safety hazard. She didn't say any of that. ''The only distractions he has are the dragons themselves, your Grace.''
The handmaidens came back with three cups on a silver platter. Again, Kiren subtly turned to her side, as to not look Seraphina in the eye. Luckily, another woman handed her her cup. And then they disappeared from her sight again. She took the opportunity to glance at the eggs. No cracks yet. What was taking so long?

kindness is never a burden.

4 april 2025 - 21:12 maysiIee is offline

maysiIee 1178

_{_HAELLE}
𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔶

house manderly • 25 * with domeric • in the dragonpit

“I wonder if you regret keeping a child away from their father,” Domeric spoke coldly. “You are not dead. Our marriage is still binding, and therefore that child,” he gestured toward Maisie, “bears the Bolton name. My name.”
Haelle did not flinch. Not at his words. Not at the weight of the name he placed upon her daughter like it was a chain instead of a lineage.
Her fingers stilled against the goblet, and for a long moment, she said nothing. The fire crackled between them, louder than it should have been. She could feel his eyes on her. Waiting. Wanting. Always wanting something from her—affection, softness, apology. Things she had never offered and would not begin to now.
Her gaze slid to him then, slow and measured. Not hateful. Not angry. Just tired. Deep down to the marrow. “You should do well to remember that it was the lack of care from your family that allowed me to be taken away.” It was a big lie. One she’d rehearsed in her head so many times that it almost felt like truth. But Domeric did not need to know that. And maybe he never would. It would be too dangerous for him to know and she did not want to give him any leverage for taking Maisie away from her. “But no, I don't regret that she spend at least a few months away from you and your family.” Her blue eyes glid towards Maisie, playing carefree with a wooden dragon.
“Let me ask you a question.” Her eyes returned to him, sharper now. “You don't even need to answer, I just want you to think about it. Be honest with yourself, Domeric.” She leaned forward slightly, the firelight catching in her eyes. “Were you ever truly happy as a child at Dreadfort? Did you ever feel safe or loved? Answer that for yourself and then ask me again if I should regret keeping my daugther away from Dreadford.” She shook her head, leaning backwards. “You want to talk about names?” she asked. “Your name is a curse. A brand mark. It makes you your father’s son. And I’ll die before I let him get his hands on Maisie.”

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

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