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Post by Princess Lyssandra Martell on Sept 11, 2013 14:28:53 GMT -5
Lyssandra awkwardly gave her hand to the man, "Uh, Princess Lyssandra." She was silent for a few moments, "From Dorne," she added stupidly and with regret at having ever spoke in the first place. He kissed the young dornish ladies hand. "Well princess Lyssandra, you must be a Martell. You are a beautiful young woman, you remind me of the sun itself. Tell me why is it you do not get out of your room?" He tilts his head, trying not to scare the girl. Lyssandra tried not to grimace at the man's flowery language. "I would rather play cyvasse than be here. I get pain when I walk." She looked around, "You should speak with some other people that are more important than me." Hopefully that would make him leave her alone. |
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Post by Ser Aemon Tully on Sept 11, 2013 14:29:01 GMT -5
The young Greyjoy girl entered with her aunt, brothers and cousin. Viea's grey eyes looked around all the people talking politely and her nose ever so slightly wrinkled at the smells of rose and lavender in the air. She herself has the smell of the sea and salt that clung to her like any good seagirl. Jen pushed the girl towards any child that looked her age and went to talk to the grown-ups herself. Lady Lyselle waves at the girl and nudges Aemon in the side. He turns and follows his wife's eyes and realized who the girl was. He smiled and beckoned her over, as did his wife. |
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Post by Lord Oswyn Baratheon on Sept 11, 2013 14:29:56 GMT -5
Ser Oswyn Baratheon entered the feast, his bastard brother Donal at his side. He was clad in a black tunic and breeches, a belt with a gold buckle and the yellow from the sigil of his crest the only colors shown in the somber occasion.
The hardships of the world over the decade had taken the wide-eyed naivety of a young knight and tempered it into steel. He still bore scars from his last visit to the city, a jagged line above his brow from where it had been split and two fingers on his right hand that had never healed quite straight. In addition to those, numerous skirmishes in the Marches and a campaign to secure a foothold in the Stepstones had left marks of their own upon his body and mind. He strode now with confidence, devoid of much of the gaiety he had previously expressed.
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Post by Viea Greyjoy on Sept 11, 2013 14:32:52 GMT -5
The young Greyjoy girl entered with her aunt, brothers and cousin. Viea's grey eyes looked around all the people talking politely and her nose ever so slightly wrinkled at the smells of rose and lavender in the air. She herself has the smell of the sea and salt that clung to her like any good seagirl. Jen pushed the girl towards any child that looked her age and went to talk to the grown-ups herself. Lady Lyselle waves at the girl and nudges Aemon in the side. He turns and follows his wife's eyes and realized who the girl was. He smiled and beckoned her over, as did his wife. Viea saw the people waving and moved slowly over. She didnt know who the people were. "Hello?" |
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Post by Marie on Sept 11, 2013 14:33:09 GMT -5
Ser Lorren's expression dropped slightly, in disappointment. "Make no mistake, Gwayne. The king was no great man. He is gone now, and had he not been our liege few would have taken note. As you've said, no one is really even here on his behalf." Ser Lorren paused. "But I am. Very few of us are great Gwayne, most of us leave little behind us that marks our path through this world. Many years from now, King Aegon will be little more than a name found in the Citadel's library. But the same is true of myself. I am, in the grand book of history, nothing. A footnote, if I am blessed with good fortune which I never have been. Few will attend my funeral, and the majority will be there for their own sake, not mine. That is why I am here Gwayne. Not for myself, not for your father. I am here for Aegon in the hope that someone will be there for me when my time comes." Gwayne was reflected in the veil of moisture clinging to Ser Lorren's grey gaze. "I will be there for you," Gwayne vowed. "That is what nephews are for. Your goals are most noble, but I make no claim to share them. I'm here for the wine, truly, and the sights, and in hopes of a willing girl to warm my bed. I know nothing of our late king, nor do I particularly need to. I know you will disapprove, but that is the gods' own truth and I won't apologise for it." Gerion's smile slipped and his eyes narrowed momentarily. He was not used to being rebuffed or rebuked, however gently. "On my House's fortunes of course, what rightful lord has his mind anywhere else?" he replied tersely, looking around the hall, beginning to tire of chasing verbal circles with Annara. Lovely she may be, but near as frigid as his own wife. Suddenly he wondered how many of Lothar's children had been conceived in the dark, while she imagined herself elsewhere. He suppressed a groan as his daughter-in-law entered, with his own youngest and her daughter in tow. Three balls of trouble all gathered in one place. At the time it had seemed an ideal match, but now it seemed the Dornish were merely eager to be rid of their wilful child and inflict her upon another house. Some treaties had a higher price than war, he reflected. Thankfully his wife had noticed and seemed to be defusing the situation with rare tact. He shrugged, leaving them too their conversations. He glanced back at Annara, changing the subject somewhat. "My wife had mentioned that you wished to squire one of your six at Casterly Rock in the future? It'd be a wise choice of course, our knights are amongst the best in all Westeros as they proved in the tourney 10 years ago, that Baratheon whelp's luck notwithstanding" he chuckled, discounting him. "Well, yes. That was most unexpected. But I agree that your house has spawned many fine knights," Annara agreed. "Believe it or not, I desire friendship between our houses. I would like to suggest my nephew Leyton as a page and, in a few years, squire. He is seven years old. He is a dutiful, obedient boy who learns his lessons well. Better than my youngest son, truth be told." |
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Post by Lord Harold Tully on Sept 11, 2013 14:34:26 GMT -5
Amelia, who would never have dared approach the other children on her own, was happy to follow her bolder, 8-year old niece. She appeared next to Teirney. "I'm Amelia," she said, wishing her beloved friend would not eat cake like that. Bethany enters the hall, finally gotten away from her father who was outside, she looks around star eyed and accidently bumps into Amelia. "OH! I...i'm sorry there my lady." Bethany wore a red and blue dress, her long curly red hair draped down over her. She looked thin and pale but not unhealthy. |
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Post by Lord Harold Tully on Sept 11, 2013 14:38:25 GMT -5
He kissed the young dornish ladies hand. "Well princess Lyssandra, you must be a Martell. You are a beautiful young woman, you remind me of the sun itself. Tell me why is it you do not get out of your room?" He tilts his head, trying not to scare the girl. Lyssandra tried not to grimace at the man's flowery language. "I would rather play cyvasse than be here. I get pain when I walk." She looked around, "You should speak with some other people that are more important than me." Hopefully that would make him leave her alone. He chuckled. "Ah I see, your a thinker? Good, it is hard to tell who is what when we meet them." He chuckled. "My Lady, I have all the time in the world to talk with the more important people." He smiles. "Tell me, do you like to read, I do not mean stories, but do you like to learn?" |
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Post by Ser Leyton Hightower on Sept 11, 2013 14:41:15 GMT -5
Ser Lorren's expression dropped slightly, in disappointment. "Make no mistake, Gwayne. The king was no great man. He is gone now, and had he not been our liege few would have taken note. As you've said, no one is really even here on his behalf." Ser Lorren paused. "But I am. Very few of us are great Gwayne, most of us leave little behind us that marks our path through this world. Many years from now, King Aegon will be little more than a name found in the Citadel's library. But the same is true of myself. I am, in the grand book of history, nothing. A footnote, if I am blessed with good fortune which I never have been. Few will attend my funeral, and the majority will be there for their own sake, not mine. That is why I am here Gwayne. Not for myself, not for your father. I am here for Aegon in the hope that someone will be there for me when my time comes." Gwayne was reflected in the veil of moisture clinging to Ser Lorren's grey gaze. "I will be there for you," Gwayne vowed. "That is what nephews are for. Your goals are most noble, but I make no claim to share them. I'm here for the wine, truly, and the sights, and in hopes of a willing girl to warm my bed. I know nothing of our late king, nor do I particularly need to. I know you will disapprove, but that is the gods' own truth and I won't apologise for it." Gerion's smile slipped and his eyes narrowed momentarily. He was not used to being rebuffed or rebuked, however gently. "On my House's fortunes of course, what rightful lord has his mind anywhere else?" he replied tersely, looking around the hall, beginning to tire of chasing verbal circles with Annara. Lovely she may be, but near as frigid as his own wife. Suddenly he wondered how many of Lothar's children had been conceived in the dark, while she imagined herself elsewhere. He suppressed a groan as his daughter-in-law entered, with his own youngest and her daughter in tow. Three balls of trouble all gathered in one place. At the time it had seemed an ideal match, but now it seemed the Dornish were merely eager to be rid of their wilful child and inflict her upon another house. Some treaties had a higher price than war, he reflected. Thankfully his wife had noticed and seemed to be defusing the situation with rare tact. He shrugged, leaving them too their conversations. He glanced back at Annara, changing the subject somewhat. "My wife had mentioned that you wished to squire one of your six at Casterly Rock in the future? It'd be a wise choice of course, our knights are amongst the best in all Westeros as they proved in the tourney 10 years ago, that Baratheon whelp's luck notwithstanding" he chuckled, discounting him. "Well, yes. That was most unexpected. But I agree that your house has spawned many fine knights," Annara agreed. "Believe it or not, I desire friendship between our houses. I would like to suggest my nephew Leyton as a page and, in a few years, squire. He is seven years old. He is a dutiful, obedient boy who learns his lessons well. Better than my youngest son, truth be told." Ser Lorren looked no less somber than before when he replied. "I thank you for that, Gwayne. I neglected you as a child, I know, and for that I have only myself to blame. Time...is so very illusive. It seems like only yesterday that I was here celebrating the royal marriage, yet that is ten years past us, and like your childhood, irrecoverable. I had hoped to speak to you before it was too late, but I see that you have been moulded by others." Lorren sighed. " Perhaps I should have brought my own son tonight, but I have been hoping to spare him from this life as long as I am able to." Ser Lorren looked pained as he lost himself in thought. |
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Post by Princess Lyssandra Martell on Sept 11, 2013 14:44:32 GMT -5
"Uhm, yes I like to learn. It is what I try to do when not playing." Lyssandra rubbed her hands together nervously.
"The princess is a studious learner, very dedicated to the books. Perhaps the princess is the most avid reader in her family."
"Erm," Lyssandra sighed looking away.
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Post by Tynian Lannister on Sept 11, 2013 14:47:39 GMT -5
Gerion's smile slipped and his eyes narrowed momentarily. He was not used to being rebuffed or rebuked, however gently. "On my House's fortunes of course, what rightful lord has his mind anywhere else?" he replied tersely, looking around the hall, beginning to tire of chasing verbal circles with Annara. Lovely she may be, but near as frigid as his own wife. Suddenly he wondered how many of Lothar's children had been conceived in the dark, while she imagined herself elsewhere. He suppressed a groan as his daughter-in-law entered, with his own youngest and her daughter in tow. Three balls of trouble all gathered in one place. At the time it had seemed an ideal match, but now it seemed the Dornish were merely eager to be rid of their wilful child and inflict her upon another house. Some treaties had a higher price than war, he reflected. Thankfully his wife had noticed and seemed to be defusing the situation with rare tact. He shrugged, leaving them too their conversations. He glanced back at Annara, changing the subject somewhat. "My wife had mentioned that you wished to squire one of your six at Casterly Rock in the future? It'd be a wise choice of course, our knights are amongst the best in all Westeros as they proved in the tourney 10 years ago, that Baratheon whelp's luck notwithstanding" he chuckled, discounting him. "Well, yes. That was most unexpected. But I agree that your house has spawned many fine knights," Annara agreed. "Believe it or not, I desire friendship between our houses. I would like to suggest my nephew Leyton as a page and, in a few years, squire. He is seven years old. He is a dutiful, obedient boy who learns his lessons well. Better than my youngest son, truth be told." "He'll do well with our example, I'm sure" he replied distractedly as he looked across to his granddaughter surrounded by a flock of other noble children. He threw a scowl at her mother. Obviously her wilfulness wasn't being managed properly enough for his liking. Perhaps in Dorne all the women behaved like dockyard sluts, but a Lion of the Rock has higher standards to uphold. He tapped his foot with a frown, wondering whether to go over there and confront his daughter-in-law. He decided to leave things for now, wishing to conclude his business first. He turned back to Annara with a broad smile, his eyes lingering on her bodice as he feigned interest in something behind her. "Obedience is a trait I wished more children shared, Lady Annara. Perhaps then they would learn that their parents are only doing what was in their best interests, however they may interpret it at the time" he continued. "And friendship between near neighbours can only be a good thing for both our houses and who knows? It may lead to more, in time" |
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Post by Ser Aemon Tully on Sept 11, 2013 14:47:43 GMT -5
Lady Lyselle waves at the girl and nudges Aemon in the side. He turns and follows his wife's eyes and realized who the girl was. He smiled and beckoned her over, as did his wife. Viea saw the people waving and moved slowly over. She didnt know who the people were. "Hello?" Lyselle looked the girl over and pursed her lips,"You are one of the Greyjoys, I saw you come in with your family." He put out her hand, to shake the girls. "I am Lyselle Tully." She noticed Aemon was talking to a young man with the Mallister colors on. She nudged him in the side and Aemon smiled at the man and excused himself. He turned towards the young girl and smiled kindly. Lyselle finally finished her sentence,"And this is my husband Aemon." |
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Post by Teirney Lannister on Sept 11, 2013 14:48:39 GMT -5
Doreah offered Amelia a brief but sweet smile and gave her hand a single squeeze in appreciation.
She was startled, though, when her prim and proper mother-in-law called out—rather loudly, in fact—to a knight who had just entered. Doreah’s brow furrowed, but suddenly a grim smile darkened her bold features. That would her Ser Oswyn Baratheon, heir to Storm’s End and the very knight who had won the King’s tourney years ago and crowned Winnie, of all people, as Queen of Love and Beauty. How very very interesting.
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Post by Marie on Sept 11, 2013 14:48:39 GMT -5
Ser Lorren looked no less somber than before when he replied. "I thank you for that, Gwayne. I neglected you as a child, I know, and for that I have only myself to blame. Time...is so very illusive. It seems like only yesterday that I was here celebrating the royal marriage, yet that is ten years past us, and like your childhood, irrecoverable. I had hoped to speak to you before it was too late, but I see that you have been moulded by others." Lorren sighed. " Perhaps I should have brought my own son tonight, but I have been hoping to spare him from this life as long as I am able to." Ser Lorren looked pained as he lost himself in thought. "I suppose I can't blame you for that. You won't spare him forever," Gwayne observed, choosing not to mention his mother's plan for Leyton. There as no point worrying Lorren until they knew it was confirmed. Please don't worry about me, I'm fine, uncle. I know I am not as serious as you would like me to be, but I'm hardly going to change now." |
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Post by Lord Harold Tully on Sept 11, 2013 14:51:41 GMT -5
"Uhm, yes I like to learn. It is what I try to do when not playing." Lyssandra rubbed her hands together nervously. "The princess is a studious learner, very dedicated to the books. Perhaps the princess is the most avid reader in her family." "Erm," Lyssandra sighed looking away. "He chuckles. "You know I was too when I was younger. I enjoy a good book, what is your favorite topics? If you do not mind telling me?" He asks with a smile. "Mine is Engineering, then architecture. There is some beauty in buildings." |
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Post by Ser Leyton Hightower on Sept 11, 2013 14:54:00 GMT -5
Ser Lorren looked no less somber than before when he replied. "I thank you for that, Gwayne. I neglected you as a child, I know, and for that I have only myself to blame. Time...is so very illusive. It seems like only yesterday that I was here celebrating the royal marriage, yet that is ten years past us, and like your childhood, irrecoverable. I had hoped to speak to you before it was too late, but I see that you have been moulded by others." Lorren sighed. " Perhaps I should have brought my own son tonight, but I have been hoping to spare him from this life as long as I am able to." Ser Lorren looked pained as he lost himself in thought. "I suppose I can't blame you for that. You won't spare him forever," Gwayne observed, choosing not to mention his mother's plan for Leyton. There as no point worrying Lorren until they knew it was confirmed. Please don't worry about me, I'm fine, uncle. I know I am not as serious as you would like me to be, but I'm hardly going to change now." "Perhaps not, but you should consider the responsibility that will one day weigh on you as Lord Paramount of the Far Reach. It will not do to be seen as humorous or light hearted when dealing with the lives of your subjects." Lorren countered. "But no doubt I am boring you. You would rather be looking for the lady to warm your bed tonight, no?" Ser Lorren's face revealed his scepticism that one was to be found at the feast. |
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Hope you all are well and happy.