when you play the game of thrones you win or you die
Years have passed since King Tommen's reign over the Seven Kingdoms, and with those years things haven't changed. Much.
King Jon Hightower managed to regain the treasury from being in debt, that alone took many years. The Late King Tommen
was the last of his pure name, he left no heirs and married no woman. His brothers were struck down in a rebellion in
the Free Cities, his father had long passed.
So who gained the Iron Throne? Whose rightful place was to be seated in a thousand swords? No one knew, and no one still knows.
The High lords of Westeros meet each moon cycle to talk about things that have gone amiss in their Homelands, and to hear
the people of King's Landing. But how much longer will this go on? Time grows short for the Kingdom, for a storm is brewing.
Who will reign over the once mighty Kingdom?
Dawn had just broken through the dark night skies before Brandon Stark was awoken with a start. Slowly his heart beat began to slow back to its normal pace as he realized where he was. Unlike Winterfell, the Red Keep's walls did not have warm spring water flowing through them making the castle seem much harsher than it was.
"I require a warm bath and fresh clothing." He spoke with a light voice to the serving maids, as to not frighten them. A quiet "yes m'lord" was heard from two different maidens as the scampered off. Quickly Lord Stark rose and put on a grey and white woolen robe.
Not long after he somewhat dressed one of the serving girls came with his bath. "You may leave me now, I can scrub my own back." Quickly, he bathed and dressed himself in the proper attire to be on the council. He wore a simple white wool shirt with black breeches, along with a grey and white cloak pinned together by a broach in the shape of a direwolf.
"Lord Tyrell, it's a pleasure to see you. I hope all is well with Highgarden, I know it is tedious to be so far away from home." the words were simple, but not without truth.
Crisp morning air bit into her lungs, breathing morning life into her body as she slowly awoke. Yet, another dreamless sleep, the mark of her Lord husbands death, leaving her uneasy and uncertain once more, like it did every morning since. The lady's fingers once more reminded her of the feel of Greyscale that ad covered his body, hard and cracked and cold as stone. It took her moments to remember that she was not home in their bed, in that high tower, safe and warm and comfortable.
Slowly, gracefully, she slid out of bed and crossed the room as silent as a shadow to look in the mirror. A hand traced her body, her face, so thin, so pale, so soft. Her hair and eyes shone oddly bright against her skin, making her appear foreign and strange. "Elena." she called to beyond the empty room. The young hand maid rushed in and curtsied deep. "Yes, m'lady?" the young girl's voice was a tad bit shaky as if she was afraid. "My dear child, all I need is a bath. Cool water will do." she laughed half-heartedly waving her out. From there it all happened in a flurry. Gracelin had come to Kings Landing for a very important meeting and wanted to be early. In a mere moments she was bathed and combed into perfection. There was nothing in her air but a falcon pin, gifted to her by her husband as a wedding gift. She dressed in the dark blue and white of her house with long drooping sleeves embroidered in silver moons and a tight black leather corset tied over her chest and stomach. Her crystal shoes clicked as she walked down the long halls to the rooms they were to meet.
Gracelin heard the man before she entered the room, calling for the Lord Tyrell. Gracelin shook her head as she pushed the door open, releasing her bell-like laughter into the room. "Foolish Brandon always jumping to conclusions, is your dog not here to tell you otherwise?" Lady Arryn smiled coyly tilting her head slightly to the right. "but thank you for the sentiment. The air is much closer here," she clasped her hands in front of her bowing he head in a slight curtsy. "it will take some getting used to I suppose." crossing the room in a few swaying steps she turned behind him, letting her skirts whirl behind her. "and how are you fairing my lord dog?" she teased yet again.
Lady Arryn's words chilled Brandon to the bone. Of course he knew that the Lady of the Eerie had only been teasing him as she always did, but being called a dog brought back memories of his wet nurse's stories of a man who once plagued the lands. "My lady, I believe you have mistaken me. The Hound died long ago and there has been no Lord dog since then." sighing, he continued to try and please the woman. "And no, I'm afraid I do not have Winter here in council with my, but never fear, for he is here my lady."
The tall young man strolled over to his seat at the large table below the Iron Throne. These meetings can be really dull, and so very amusing at the same time the Lord of Winterfell thought as he sighed. He missed his snowy castle, though he would get lonely sometimes. Maybe it was time he wed, he was getting on in his age after all. Two-and-twenty was plenty old enough for a wife, plus he needed a heir to take Winterfell after he did.
"I wonder how much longer it will be before the rest of the Lords get here, I don't want to wait all day." His auburn curls fell just above his blue eyes, the coloring had run in the family. Some said he looked like his great great grandfather, the Young Wolf, though he thought that they were just being kind.
The lady chuckled at his reply. Oh, how she loved picking at the young lord. "You misunderstand me. The direwolf is most obviously the lord of all other dogs. It sadens my heart that you have not brought the beauty to the meeting with you, I would have loved to see him." following his lead she took a seat beside him, seeking the comfort of someone she knew. This was her first meeting with the counsil and her first experience out alone without Nathan. "And you are wrong on one count, the Lords Clegane are still thriving in the south as ever." she informed him, looking up at him.
Her fingers fiddled with her sleeves under the table to not let the nervousness reach her face. Gracelin did not know what to expect and now more than ever she wished she had someone to reach out for. Here and now she felt a child amongst giants, even though the young lord Brandon was about her age. Gently she touched his shoulder. "You rhymed my Lord, if you had a son or wife I may have suggested a change of profession. A singer may have suited you." she laughed, hoping that no one saw her uncertainty. She felt so out of place in these fine halls.
The thought of more people arriving made her sit up a little straighter as she crossed her feet bellow her chair. She did not know the others, and was uncertain if the would accept her opinions or voice as Brandon did. "I do not share your feeling. Everything is so new now, I would like to sit here a little longer to take it all in, absorb the fact that this is actually happening." absentmindedly Gracelin reached up to touch the pin in her hair, still smiling as always. "I think the throne room is even more exquisite when it is not stuffed full of people." she added broadening that smile.
"Well of course, my lady. He is bigger and stronger than all others in King's Landing. You might even say that he is the...King of the Dog's." a light chuckle escaped his lips. It was nice to jest every now and then, even if it were at small expense of himself. Truly, he did miss having Winter at his side at all times. The direwolf was the only family that he had, and he wouldn't be able to bear it if he lost him.
"And you are wrong on one count, the Lords Clegane are still thriving in the south as ever."
"Aye, the Hound may live in the South, but the Mountain that Walks was slain by the Red Viper of Dorne years ago. The Viper used a poison spear, so that even though he perished he took his sister's murderer with him." The tale was an old one that nearly everyone had heard of, about how the man who was as tall as a mountain was slain by some mere poison.
The young lord ran his fingers through his light curls. "I agree, my lady. The throne does look a lot nicer without all the clutter of people." he said, ignoring the woman's remark about being a singer, "Alas, it seems that I am in need of an heir. It seems that I just haven't found the right woman to do so yet." the words slipped off his lips with a small smirk.
Gracelin chuckled and her face brightened. "That would be a coronation I would love to attend, but if others over heard they may believe you were offering yourself up for kingship." she tilted her head to the right again, her hair falling over her shoulder in a wave of auburn. "I know you better, though." the lady chirped to set his mind at ease. Who would want to rule a broken kingdom? It took a special type of person to mend the damage that was left. It was the same for most things, like hearts.
"Hm, you sound as if the Mountain that Rides was more treachorous than the Hound. In temperment The Mountain was more fearsome, but the Hound was by far more intelligent and more skilled a fighter. From the tales I have heard." The were few songs of the Mountain and more songs of the Hound. The best of them, the ones she favored, where those that involved Sansa. She loved the songs of the little bird, or the wolf among lions. That lady seemed so strong.
When the Lord Wolf spoke of children she couldn't help but think of Gren, her little prince of the Vale. Her probably had yet to miss her, she had made sure he would be kept busy the duration of this trip. Grace's eyes became a little sharper as she took a deep breathe. Was he lonely? "An heir? Are you lonely my lord? A young strong man like you, I cannot imagine you have a night alone." she giggle resting one hand on her heart. "You can always borrow my heir if you wish, temporarily of course, to see if you can handle it. Child raising is more difficult than ruling." she chuckled jesting at the lord. Of course, she needed to start thinking of whom to foster the boy with, but it hurt her to think about it.
Brandon noticed Gracelin's face brighten and a smile krept onto his face. "Why, of course I want to be King. But by others account, I would not be fit for the role since I am not seasoned by battle. I could be though..." his voice trailed off. He wanted to be King of Westeros, who wouldn't want that?
"Ah, yes. The Mountain was a brute, no horse could hold his weight, and his skill with a lance was terrible. He was nearly an unstoppable man. His brother though, he was fierce and fearsome. At least, that is the tale that is told to scare children. Don't worry, my lady, if there ever a monster as treacherous as the Hound I would protect you." A grin spread across his face once more.
"An heir? Are you lonely my lord? A young strong man like you, I cannot imagine you have a night alone."
[/i]
"My lady, you wound me. I would never sire a bastard. A woman should only be taken to bed with the intent to marry." The young lord tried to make his face look hurt, though he did not succeed. Lady Arryn's giggle was a sweet sound upon his ears in this cold room. The fact was, that he had gotten lonely in his big castle in Winterfell. Brandon was brought back from his thoughts of Winterfell when he heard Gracelin talking of her son. "Are you offering you only son up as a ward to Winterfell, my lady?" a puzzled look crossed his face. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]
The woman sighed, was she truly the only one who had no interest in ruling Westeros? More oft then not the people hated either their king, or queen, or both. Something always goes wrong for at least one of them. "There were once King's without any such experience." Gracelin stated looking down a little. They had both been sad stories. "Both boy kings, untried in every way. I'm sure you know who I am talking about." She looked back up at him and placed another smile on her face. "You would fair far better than the two of them. I think." she chirped trying to make a little light of it.
"...Don't worry, my lady, if there ever a monster as treacherous as the Hound I would protect you."
At that she laughed harder than she had before arching her back into a curve and throwing her head back a little. "Oh sweet Lord," she gasped catching her breath. "I believe you would, but who shall protect you? and I doubt I shall ever need such protection. Unless, you see me as a little bird ripe for being stolen." she jested hinting at the story of Sansa and Lord Sandor. It was one of her favorites after all, as was the Lady Sansa a part of his family. Hopefully, she did not upset him.
Blinking she reached up and poked one upturned corner of his mouth. "I believe my lord, if you were so wounded you would not be smiling." she pointed out with a smirk. "Besides, one does not always birth a bastard when they bed a woman. More oft then not it takes more than one romp in the night." she added calmly to reassure him. "creating children is harder than it may seem." she chuckled. In the eight years she had been married to the Lord, she had only been able to bear one son, where others would have born many. Maybe it had been just her.
Clenching her fist over her heart she thought about Gren. He was a strong boy, big for his age, but without a strong male figure how long would that continue. "Yes, I've been thinking about sending him to ward since his father passed." she stated with a slight smile. The low Lord's have been watching her carefully, waiting for her to crack like the women who ruled alone before. She would not, but she could not let them use little Gren against her. "I have thought of you, who else to teach my son honor and strength. I need someone to make a lord of him at least until I find another husband."
"I believe you would, but who shall protect you? and I doubt I shall ever need such protection. Unless, you see me as a little bird ripe for being stolen."
[/i]
Grinning the young lord answered, "Why, Winter would. He knows when I am in trouble. The only reason he is not here with me now is for the...safety of everyone's heart." That was only slightly true, yes Winter had frightened many people with his shear size. But the tales of the Red Wedding, of Robb Stark and his direwolf Grey Wind being slaughtered with under the roof of a friend, that was the tale that haunted him the most. He did not want such a thing to happen to Winter. If he died, he wanted his wolf to live on.
Reaching up, he softly touched the direwolf broach that pinned his cloak to himself. Gracelin's remark about children caught his attention once more. "Aye, I suppose that is true. But I can say that with the women I have bedded, I haven't sired a bastard, and I try not too." That was simply how Brandon was brought up, to only have trueborn children, that siring a bastard was almost dishonorable. The Tully words would almost work for him, Family. Duty. Honor.
"I have thought of you, who else to teach my son honor and strength. I need someone to make a lord of him at least until I find another husband."[/i]
The words took him by surprise, although he could guess why she would want to send her child away. "Why, my lady I would be honored to take your son on as my ward." A warm smile crept across his lips, if he took on her son as a ward, well...if bad went to worse, that would guarantee that the Vale and the Eerie would be on his side.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]
Gracelin had watched him closely throughout the conversation, saw and learned the ticks of that stoic face. She knew he had taken some of her words to heart. "Parting from your direwolf upsets you? why force him from your side when you know it affects you so?" a direwolf could only break the heart of its owner and his loved ones, not the entire counsel. There would have been no harm in gifting the group with the presence of his pet. She would have loved to see the beast.
The lady cocked one eyebrow at him on the talk of bastards. "My lord, the world needs bastards same as it does high lords, their reason is simply harder to tell." she added sitting up straighter. There was a time when she had begged for her husband to father a bastard, another child for her to hold and protect. The lady had realised her foolishness long afterwards. As High As Honor their words were he had always reminded her. Chuckling she pressed one pale finger between his eyebrows. "For such a young man you have grown wrinkled from the stress of such worries, relax my Lord, and mayhaps you will find yourself less lonely." she jested withdrawing her hand as quickly as it had come.
Looking into her lap she lowered her hands with a sigh. "You are a kindly man Brandon Stark, of that I am sure. Still, this is not a decision for me to make in haste." the men who wished to steal from her where still scrambling from Lord Nathan Arryn's death as much as everyone. "We shall both think on it and discuss the possiblity later." she clenched her fists in her skirts before quickly releasing and straightening herself again. "In this meeting, what do you think shall be discussed?" she asked if only for inexperience.
The woman's voice was like a song upon Brandon's ears when she spoke of Winter. "Why, I fear for others safety as I said before. And it is good for him to explore and know his surroundings, he comes and goes as he pleases." which was true, Brandon allowed the wolf to roam all over the Red Keep, though he did not let him into King's Landing on his own. A soft tap-tap of paw pads hitting the cold floor rang in the hall, As if the direwolf knew that his master was talking about him he appeared next to Brandon's side.
He already stood at Bran's hip in height, and wore a grey mask around his piercing yellow eyes. Along his back shades of grey merged with a white bottom. "And here he is, loyal as ever. I could trust this wolf with my life." The young lord smiled fondly at his companion.
"My lord, the world needs bastards the same as it does high lords, their reason is simply harder to tell."
The lord studied the lady's words. Of course she was right, but he just couldn't find a way to simply say that he wanted a trueborn son before he had a bastard. But as things were looking, that may never happen. He hadn't had much luck in finding a lady that suited himself much at all.
Bran smiled at the Lady of the Vale as he felt her touch, it had been so long since he had had someone touch him. "Those are kind words, my lady. I will not rush you on your decision, as it will affect us both greatly." Honestly, he was in no rush to take on a child. At least her whelp wasn't a babe at the breast.
"In this meeting, what do you think shall be discussed?"
[/i]
"Hmm. Mostly its common folk coming into claim that someone stole a sheep, or a small purse of coppers. Petty things that they could have taken care of themselves, really. But they need someone to lead them, so here we are, all acting as King and Queen." [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]
They lady eyed the wolf as he walked in. A monstrous beast, but beautiful. She did not quite see the threat of his fangs and claws or size, she saw the knowledge in his eyes. She could smell the wild on his as if he wore it as a perfume. The way the light glinted off his fur mystified her. Gracelin found herself reaching out with her hand just for a touch of the direwolf. Power and strength radiating from his very being. Her hand froze, palm up before his nose just waiting for him to accept her. "He is beautiful, may I pet him?" she asked cordially, meeting the creatures eyes before quickly lowering her gaze.
The lady shied from the topic of her son any further. It hurt her heart to think of sending him away, even though she must. If she could not bring the Lords of the Vale to heel, she would burn the Vale to the ground. Harsh, but she had her reason, she had made her promises. The last thing Gracelin wanted was for Gren to be apart of this battle, it was hers to fight. She would protect what belonged to her. "Thank you, for your understanding." she stated smiling pleasantly at him. A sour taste building in her mouth knowing that things would have to change. Gracelin could no longer afford to be how she was now. Lady Gracelin Aaryn was now Lady of the Vale Warden of the East and Westeros was about to change.
"Hmm. Mostly its common folk coming into claim that someone stole a sheep, or a small purse of coppers. Petty things that they could have taken care of themselves, really. But they need someone to lead them, so here we are, all acting as King and Queen."
Simple. Petty things. She assumed that for a common folk relying on that sheep or those commoners it was not a petty complaint. Still, most lord's and lady's did not realize that. Still, a wicked smile crossed her face. "Three Kings for one Queen, what will the common folk think. must I take you all to wed and bed then? It would be a cramped bed indeed." she jested toying with him once again with a slight chuckle in her voice. Playing and making jest was so much simpler than all this talk of warding children and dark Royal-less times.
Brandon watched at Lady Graclin stuck her palm up, smart woman. "Yes, my lady. Of course you may pet him." Bran eyed his wolf, with a certainty that the only way Winter would attack would be if his master was in trouble. He could sit and stare at the beast all day long, though he had business to attend to.
"Thank you, for your understanding"
"It's my pleasure, my lady. I wouldn't be to wuick to send off mine own son during these times either, if I had a son..." There it was again, the talk of a heir. Especially times in times like this, when any day war could break out. He could not leave Winterfell without a Lord as King Tommen left all of Westeros without a King. Maybe I should sire a bastard, just in case... He shut the thought out as quickly as it came.
"Three Kings for one Queen, what will the common folk think. must I take you all to wed and bed then? It would be a cramped bed indeed."
"Aye, now theres a thought. Or maybe you only need to bed one of them." A sheepish grin spread across his face, as he hinted toward Lady Gracelin. Of course, if she said yes he would try with her once the meeting in the Hall was over, if she said no he would merely say he was jesting. Either way, he would have a better friend or possibly a heir. Still grinning the young lord ran his hands through his hair, thoroughly ruffling it up.
With a sigh she buried her small hands in the thick fur of the boys neck, scratching along his jaw line and behind his ears. Winter was soft, like velvet and felt cool to the touch, nice on these warmer days in Kings Landing. Bringing her hands up between his ears she rubbed up the velvety points before tracing down his maw, being sure to rub the dampness from his eyelids and cheeks before removing her hands. Drawing away slowly she smiled at the beast and winked before turning back to his partner.
Gracelin smiled at the lost young Lord. "Do not fret Lord Stark." she cooed softly touching a hand against his cheek. "One day a lady, noble or otherwise, will come about that you shall find undeniable." she smiled sweetly cocking her head slightly to one side. "Air will turn to poison in your lungs when you are without her and the sun will seem a shadow." she knew, because she did not love the Lord Arryn until years after they were wed, the two were more like friends.
"Aye, now there's a thought. Or maybe you only need to bed one of them."
At that Gracelin laughed out loud, throwing her head back. When she calmed she looked at him once again, holding her belly. "Do not take offense my lord, but whatever do you mean?" she asked loudly, playing the innocent, as if someone could have over heard. The wild was in her eyes though as she brushed some fallen hair from her face. Grace would not like to appear the whore in front of the other Lords, it would put her at the disadvantage, and if the Lords of the Vale found out. Jealousy was always the demon that gripped them. Leaning forward she brushed her lips against his ear. "If I were to allow this," she breathed gently along his earlobe. "it would need to be preformed with the utmost secrecy." she whispered before sinking back into her chair. "Well my lord, I believe the others late or not coming at all." she stated glancing toward the door.
"it would need to be preformed with the utmost secrecy."
[/i]
A chill went down the young lord spine. Did he want that, really want that? Of course he did. A wicked smirk caught on his face as he leaned over to the lady, his scruffy face hardly touching hers as he whispered in her ear "Why, of course my lady. Secrets are always made in the Red Keep." Before he pulled away to sit back in his chair, the lord gently tugged on Gracelin's earlobe.
"Well my lord, I believe the others late or not coming at all."
"You are right in that, looks like we'll have to do this alone. It is not all that hard, I promise." quickly he recomposed himself. "The Council will see the requester, bring in the first one." Lord Brandon said to the guard. A man could get used to this. Winter rubbed his head under Brandon's palm, wanting affection.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]