[IMVU Logs] Outside The Red Keep

Biird: Lux was loose! Freely set upon the virgin territory that sat in the shadow of the Red Keep, despite the soft worried murmurs of her sweet Lady mother. For it was with tiniest dismissive flick of her father’s wrist that had set that untamed, hooligan of a noble born child wild on the streets of King’s Landing. Of course she was in the company of two nimble, lithe, muscled Dornish guards. Sands. Bastards of other noble houses from her home land. With their smooth mocha skin, slick black hair and eyes so dark they looked like obsidian stones. They looked fierce wearing their leather vests and pants, with the thick, vibrantly colored sashes and the pointed leather boots; strutting around like a peacocks for all these pale, plain people to gawk at. In quite fine company they were for strutting. Their charge, who was saddened for only the briefest of moments when she realized the only way to sneak about in this place was to be fully covered, was on grand parade down the streets now. It would have been impossible to slink and lizard about in this place. There was no one, save her own bloodborn kin, that shared her features. From the dark rooted flaxen hair, to the caramel colored flesh, to those bright lavender eyes that held a perpetual glint of mystery and mischief. Her tiny heart-shaped face was crested with a smile both welcoming and wicked and her giggle often pierced the air as they moved along. Dressed in leather trousers and a top, with an overlay of blue silk, a matching head scarf, and specially made wedged, leather boots, Luxia Amalthea Martell promenaded through the bustling streets of the festive capital. She snatched wares off of display carts, fondling them curiously before absently pitching them away when something more interesting caught her eyes. This disturbed the proud strutting of her peacock guards as they were now tasked with catching and replacing each thing she flitted away.

Cali : Quorah, with a rare-- and quite lively-- amused expression, followed not too far off from Luxia. The two had parted ways when they reached the edge of the thick crowd, being as the polar opposite siblings would hardly be capable of keeping up with the other. A smile brightened Quorah's entire features when she took in the array of shoppes and vendors. Each nook and cart seemed to be overflowing with local treasures; Native produce stacked in wooden crates, newly tailored whalebone corsets and rich fabrics splayed across tables and folded over hung line, and that of the fine arts. A childish instinct pulled her from her thoughts, however, when she passed a dimly lit tent. It was in the midst of the bustling crowd, but no one seemed to notice it as they shoved about their way. This struck Quorah as odd, naturally, but how harmless could the contents of a flimsy market tent be?: Incredibly. The burlap fabric that made up the make-shift door was blown back as a breeze weaved its way through the air, calling Quorah to its midst. She took the opportunity to slip into the small space and was welcomed by originally crafted pottery, recreational dye for painting, portraits of foreign landscapes, and incenses. The air was warm and sweet-- inviting to those of common interest with the items held here-- the perfect atmosphere for a shop of this nature.

Grimm: It had been too long since Kainen had slept in a bed he didn't have to punch into submission, though that ranged from some wild animal to a tree, it didn't really matter to him as long as it was shaped decently. Having spent much of the day before playing with his nephew and cautiously avoiding his sister, not out of fear, considering a couple of times she came searching for him and he hid anyways knowing it would get under her skin. Maybe she was right sending Azaroth away, Kainen alone was bad enough, barely acting his age, let alone his boot size. Rhaegar was with his mother now, Kainen, strolling idly through the corridors of the noble quarters in the castle, Grayson and his younger brother Yennrick in quick toe behind, struggled to keep up with his large footsteps. At one stage, Yennrick was almost jogging to keep up with the monster of a male, only to not pay attention and run into the back of Kainen, who didn't budge at all and didn't even react, only looked left and right down side corridors before deciding on the left path and moving again. Grayson came to his brother side who was holding his bleeding nose and shaking his head. "You don't need to be so close, the mans a giant, we can't lose him" Though while he was talking, Kainen had taken another turn and when Grayson turned to look for him, he cursed and left his brother in search of his charge, mumbling under his breath. "Can't even let me have one thing huh" Eventually all 3 were reunited again when Kainen burst open a door and appeared out onto the courtyard again. "This is not the kitchens" Grayson came up on his left, huffing somewhat. "No my Lord, the kitchens have been barred shut since your arrival yesterday, you ate two days of the feast in moments, they can't risk to going back in. We could go into the city and search for something." Grayson winced at his own words, not wanting to expose the city below to Kainen's stomach. "A fine idea" And with that Kainen made his way towards the main gate of the Red Keep.

Biird: She trotted, she pranced, she danced, she snuck and ultimately doubled back to the mysterious and alluring vendor that had attracted her younger more … boring sister. Whirling her long loose hair about a finger, Luxia mulled through the tent, her little nose crinkling at the heavy scent of the incense. Bending at the waist and thrusting her round backside out, she managed to bump and startled her own warden. A giggle wisped through the air and bubbled over into a full blown laugh to see his face, cheeks rosied by her actions. “Many apologies, Princess. It’s a small tight space.” Luxia went rigid. Her arm thrust out, pointing demeaning at her man as her face set with false rage. “How dare you speak of my maidenhood so brazenly and in public no less!” His face fell, horror over taking his entire being as he stumbled for his words. “Princess, please.. I never meant…” “I know…” She said flippantly, her eyes having drifted over his shoulder to table of wares. Shoving past this poor tormented man, who now wore the eyes of every person in the tent, Luxia squatted down and examined the ways from the level of the table top. “Quorah, I don’t understand some arts. What’s this nonsense? What does it mean? What does it represent?” Reaching across the table from her crouched position, Luxia’s fingers dance in the air over an ivory carved statue of small man, no taller than man’s middle finger with an erection the size of her forefinger and wide as her slim wrist. Of course, Luxia knew it was a fertility statue, she just wanted to get a rise out of her demure little sister.

Grimm: Grayson had instructed Yennrick to return to the Red Keep after a few minutes of walking through the city streets. It was obvious the younger boy was a bit awestruck by what was going on around him so much that Grayson had to end up basically holding his hand so he would not get lost. Sending him back was the best choice and perhaps Rhaelle could find some use for the boy. Kainen had peeked into 3 different taverns at this stage, and only peeked because the space inside was too small, and too crowded for him to actually make it in there. "This is getting me nowhere. I should just go back and break the door to the kitchen..." hitting into something caused Kainen's voice to cease as Grayson looked beyond the huge oaf of a man to see another, rather large, but not by Kainen's standard, dark skin and very, colorful in attire, standing there, adjusting his 'outfit'. Grayson's couldn't help but chuckle a little, until he looked at Kainen though, then his demeanor quickly changed as the small male tried to run forward and stop what was coming. But alas, when he did reach Kainen's side, the Dragon had already turned and smashed the guard straight into the nose, crumpling the poor guards face and sending him crashing back into the tent and over a table of trinkets that lay inside. Kainen's head tilted to the side as a loud crack reverberated through his entire body and he looked at Grayson again. "I don't think they would mind too much if I broke the door, I mean, it's the Kings court, they can surely afford another." Grayson was always awestruck when Kainen would almost kill someone in a breath, and in the same damn breath, forget he even hit a man. Kainen's posture had returned to his silent, albeit, grunting compilation as he thought over his plan. The street around him now granting a hollow circle around Kainen, they all knew who he was but were in the grips of confusion at his current state of nonchalantness. Though they could also feel the tension in the air, knowing something was about to happen that probably wasn't in the most festive of spirits.

Cali : Acutely aware of Luxia's overbearing presence, Quorah's cheeks flushed with frustration. Her back was turned to Luxia, so it concealed her true feelings, but she was the master of disguise. Her front side still facing a lovely oil sketch from the southern region of Westeros, most likely, she responded in a neutral tone as always. "Perhaps reading the description below it might be of great aid to you, Luxia." There was little emotion in anything Quorah said, but this particular sentence was void of all audible feeling. "How'd you find me here anyways? You and your feathered friends were already sifting through the mass ahead of me." Her slender, untouched hand ran along the curves of an ash vase on a nearby table, her thoughts almost immediately lost once more. Her hand showed her lack of work, her uncallused fingertips and scar less palms a symbol of her lifestyle of wealth and leisure.

Biird: Luxia whined at her sister’s unflustered answer. She had been hoped to use less effort for a good rise, but that wasn’t the case. She was bored again. Boredom was her constant state of being around Quorah and she didn’t know how her mother could stand her for hours on end. With a great dramatic sigh, Luxia pushed away from the table and stood, whirling on a heel to face the guard that had followed her in. He opened his mouth, possibly to suggest a new course of action diverting her from whatever madness she’d set onto already, but no sound ever made it from his lips. Instead, the tent collapsed in on itself and Luxia let out a squeal of excitement as the posts bent or snapped and fell. The heavy burlap of the structure fluttered roughly down on the goods, knocking things this way and that. The tables toppled. Screams and shouts emitted from both within and without the tent. With cat like reflexes, Luxia’s man at arms had pulled the little princess to his chest and tucked both bodies under a tilted table whose wares had shattered on the dirt floor. Her sister? Who knew. Perhaps her own bodyguards were just as nimble, perhaps not, the thought of the girl never crossed Lux’s mind. No. She was too intrigued by the dark, thick streams of blood that pooled in the dented mass that had once been her bodyguard’s face. Another squeal, and clapping. The strange sound drew eyes away from the hulking beast musing his next endeavor to foreign princess crawling from under burlap to daintily touch the pooling fluid. Her eyes sparkled with wonder. Rich, wheat colored strand danced in the soft breeze as her head swiveled to find her living bodyguard. “Do you think he’s dead? What creature makes such a big hole?” A dancing shadow catching her eye, Luxia’s vision travelled the million miles up along the mountain of a man who stood circled by peasants and strangers. The answer to her question. Another squeal and Luxia shot from her place under the fallen tent and circled Kainen in a very close and bombarding proximity. “Look at this! He’s massive. Have you ever seen such a big man? I want one.” Horrified yet again, her bodyguard bolted free of tangled burlap and used his body to corral the little princess without actually touching her, herding her away from both the crowd and the beast. “Princess you mustn’t speak in such away, come, please, we must inform your father of H’arth’s demise.” Whining, and stomping, Luxia obliged his wishes but not without constant complaint as they disappeared in the crowd toward the Red Keep.

Grimm: Grayson was pale, no, a ghost is pale, Grayson seemed to have invented a new shade of 'Oh fuck' as the tent crumpled in on the unsuspecting mass that had gathered inside. Moving towards the tent, knowing Kainen would take at least another 40 seconds to make some kind of decision, Grayson helped a few of those inside out, only to have one figure dart passed him and start to circle the great beast that was his charge. If the man could have fainted there and then, he would have, but a shove from another figure, equally as tanned as the one Kainen had decided to, move out of his personal bubble, quickly brought him back to his senses. Grayson moved between Kainen and the guard who was now ushering the 'princess', did he say Princess. There was no way he said Princess. But then the young man’s mind pieced it together. The well-armed guards, their tanned skin, a princess that was not of Baratheon descent, so to speak. Dorne. Grayson actually put his hand on Kainen's massive forearm to steady himself. This broke Kainen of his stupor and look at the boy. "You do not look well, let us go get some food, it is awfully loud here for some reason, and a bit too dusty. I need a drink" With that Kainen grabbed the back of Grayson's tunic and actually dragged him along the ground. Grayson had nor the strength nor the will to fight back as his legs dragged along the cobbled streets, his arms hanging limply by his sides, knuckles scrapping the stone, and Kainen walking as if he held naught more than a piece of paper, back towards the Red Keep.

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Biird: Her son may not have looked anything like her, but they shared many traits. For instance, neither Rhaelle or her son, Rhaegar, cared much for the structured and boring life inside the walls of a keep. Instead they preferred to wake early before the arrival of other houses clogged the gates and caused them to have to stop and make annoying small talk with all the lords and ladies that had finally made the journey to the capital. Early in the morning, there were few carriages coming in and in turn there were less guards and staff all around, so she and Rhaegar could easily take a side gate and carry on with out much noble interruption. For three days now, they had been headed for the fair grounds, but each time Rhaegar had become enamored with with the different parts of town outside of the Red Keep and indifferent to it all, Rhaelle allowed him to wander wherever he pleased. The Lady Rhaelle Baratheon didn't have any sworn swords. She often went without any sort of entourage, but things were different in the capital. In order to appease her mother's nerves she had agreed to keep an entourage at all times. So she had six knights with herself and her son. Where did they hail from? She couldn't tell you. In full armor she couldn't tell one from the other and knew the names of none. They had an understanding -- they did their jobs and they wouldn't have to be embarrass when she cut them down for being in her way. They were not allowed to speak to her son. This was more for their safety than anything else. A single snide remark about or to Rhaelle would have lost them their heads at her own hands with no remorse or care for the repercussions of her actions. The little boy with the dirty blond braid, the sides of his head shaved like the cousin he'd never met, and perpetual mischievous grin on what could have only been the child version of his fathers features, was her everything and no one, highborn or commoner was allowed to mistreat him in her presence just because she refused to expell his origins. Frankly it was none of their damned business as far as she was concerned. He was a child, what should his origins matter? Rhaegar ran ahead of her, the knights at her back. He continuously ran forward to inspect something, never more than ten feet, and ran back to inform her of his findings. Rhaelle moved along the narrows street at a leisurely pace with her arms folded under her petite bust, making her already wide shoulders seem wider than they truly were. Her mother had also begged she attempt to dress like a lady, so Rhaelle had several.. dresses made for the event in the capital. They weren't complete dresses. In fact they were pant suits with drapes of fabric and chainmail in a "feminine" form to appease her mother. Rhaegar took an immediate liking to the style as it afforded him many drapes he could tug on to get her attention, but there was also a slit in each one where he could attach himself to her leg and the drapes allowed him to hide away when he felt sneaky. Today they might actually make it to the faire grounds as everything they passed now, he'd already explores in the days past. By the time they made it to the grounds, the sun was in a midpoint between dawn and new, about nine o'clock. There were a few children dancing about a maypole as the musicians set up and began to play. There were few patrons this early, mostly the caretakers and their children were about, but it would be too soon before others started to arrive. There were sharp tugs to her dress. "Mother. I am hungry." Rhaegar said already with his large grey eyes on a stall. She took a coin from the pouch at her side and placed it in his little hand. "Go on then."

Highlander: The Harvest Festival wouldn't be kicking off for another few days, but it seemed that the city itself and its surrounding area were packed to the brim with people, both lowborn and noble, visiting for the festivities. Jorsanna shifted in her saddle, her horse nickering at the scents of the city as she and the carriage she was riding beside drew closer. The Starks had tried to get her to join them in the carriage but she preferred to be on her horse, the world around her not blocked from view. Her own men were traveling close by, interspersed with the other Northmen escorting the carriage towards the tightening grip of the faire grounds, stalls growing ever narrower, ever closer to the road. She could see them speaking amongst themselves in the carriage, the cloth coverings on the doors pinned up to let the air in. The heat her was stifling and even though she had dispensed of her furs and thicker leathers it still felt like she was boiling in her own skin. And as assuredly as the height made her feel like she was breathing through a blanket, so too did the heat increase the distance from which the stench of the city could be detected. She took her gloves off, tucking them into a saddle bag and rubbing the back of her hand against her forehead. The caravan slowed slightly due to the press of people and Jory motioned for her men to keep following the entourage around the carriage as she dropped down off her horse and wandered over to a stall, the table and sides littered with shiny baubles of various types and sizes. She had better get Mirryn something while she was here or she would never hear the end of it.

Grimm: For some the day was beginning, for others, it was well underway, then there were the few, a small handful, maybe just the one, that was wishing the day was already over. Greyson had already managed to deflect a few situations that may have ended up in some stray individual from loosing their life before they even realized it was in danger. Another was the constant retrieval of food to feed ones enormous appetite, not that he ran to the kitchen himself, that was more his younger brothers job, or at least to send him to find a page to do so in his stead as was their job. Another was trying to even keep up with an individual that it really should not be difficult to keep up with at all. Kainen Baratheon stood at 6'5'' in height wight a chest as broad as a horse yet the attention span of a goldfish. One could never forget who he was or even miss him when he walked down a street, it was impossible to hide the monster that he was no matter what one tried. All Greyson could do was try to control the tide of people that flooded the streets to flow around Kainen, least one bump into him and he grants a swift backhand without even realizing he had done it. When Greyson finally caught up with the Lord of Storms End, he was, for whatever reason, standing in front of a flower stall, looking rather confused as to why someone would want to sell flowers, so much so that he was almost debating with the poor woman as to why she was selling them. "People actually buy these? Surely not." The woman knew of Kainen's reputation, though he would never strike a female or child, everyone was still weary of him, not just for his noble statue. "Yes my Lord. They like to use them to bring color to their homes and gardens." Kainen paused, picking up one vase as he examined the contents. Some green thing with red and yellow petals and his perplexed expression did not change. As Greyson came to a stop beside the stall, he arrived just in time to catch the plant that Kainen had suddenly lost interest in and just dropped it. Greyson placed it back on the counter and simply shook his head before turning to try figure out where the hell he had gone now. As Kainen seemed to wade through the mass of people, his hand suddenly disappeared into the crowd as if he were dipping it into a lake, and in the next motion, he rose it up again with a small boy plucked from the street, holding him by the back of his belt, dangling him in the air level with his face, which to a boy of 3 was a rather high distance from the ground below. "Now what do we have here. Breakfast? Lunch? Couldn't be, it's barely more than a mouthful." Kainen grinned as Rhaegar squirmed happily in his grip and giggled rather uncontrollably.

Biird: Rheagar only made it half way to the stall of his choice, a stand of sweet smelling breads and cakes when a hand gripped the back of his pants and hoisted him into the air. Immediately he started to laugh and trash about because only one person every handled him like that and always it was the same line that threw him into a fit of giggles all over again. Reaching down, Rhaegar slapped both his hands down onto his uncle's cheeks. "UNCLE KAINEN. I'm more than a mouthful! I'm suckling pig. I'm big!" He roared in laughter. That poor young man with the old face that followed as closely as he could manage behind that hulking beast, came to a skidding hault and let out a breath of relief to find Kainen was holding his own nephew and not some poor unsuspecting woman's child in error. No, this time it was the right blonde headed little both. Without trying to catch his breath, Greyson gave Rhaelle a bow. "Lady Rhaelle, good morning." She nodded to him. "Ser Greyson, how many gold dragons will our humble house be in debt today?" Greyson seemed panicked, rushing to assure that nothing was actually damaged in Kainen's wake... at least not yet. Despite her monotone and indifferent features, Rhaelle had been joking. Instead of laughing, she simply held a hand to quiet the young man. Giving him a moment to finally breathe. Meanwhile, Rhaegar shoved a gold dragon into his uncle's face. "Look. Mother gave me money. I want sweet rolls and confections." His arm swung over to the side pointing to the stall where the child had originally been heading. "Toss me!" "Rheagar." "But mother." She simply shook her head, the eyes of a white walker pinning down her brother's drifting stare warning him not to defy her as Greyson silently prayed to one god or another that the behemoth wouldn't take the child up on the challenge.

Highlander: Jorsanna had found a stall vending crystal and metal brooches. They were worthless stones, simple quartz cut and shined, but they were beautiful and the talent of the craftsman was notable. "They are lovely. I'll take....that one." The shopkeeper looked her up and down as she pointed at the to her farthest right. Either he was put off by the unusual occurrence of a woman in armour or he didnt know how she might wear such a bauble with her present clothing. "oh, its for my sister." she said cheerfully in explanation, waving her hand dismissively as she rummaged in her coin purse. The smile on her face warmed her expression considerably and she laid the coin for the item on the table, taking it and tucking it into a pouch on her belt. It wasn't gold or diamonds but Mirryn would love it nonetheless. It was then that she spotted the massive man that could only have been one of the Baratheons, head and shoulders above the crowd. She thanked the stallkeeper and tightened her hands on the reins of her horse, weaving through the crowd over to where they stood. "Good Evening, I hope the day finds you well?" she said, giving a brief curtsy and a bob of the head- the most that could be done without a dress and packed as tightly as the people in the faire grounds were.

Grimm: The coin was almost held too closely to his face for Kainen to even really see what it was, but it did not matter, whatever it was it made Rhaegar happy and that was enough to make Kainen happy, that and food of course. Greyson was fighting the urge to edge forward with his hands up to try and take Rhaegar from Kainen before he tossed him like the spear Rhaelle had thrown on a few days prior. But he knew, even if the urge was there, Kainen would never do something that may harm the young Lord. Greyson was of course, one of the few that never saw Rhaegar for anything less than what he was, a child of a Baratheon, it did not matter who his father was, it was Greyson's job to serve the house, and his time with Kainen had opened his eyes, and his mind to a lot of possibilities he never thought he would have to experience. Such as running around with a lot of gold just to pay off the destruction caused by Kainen leaving his bedroom, and having to actually apologize to the common folk even if he never had to or even pay them off. Greyson was the sympathetic sort, yet he was quick to remind people who stepped passed a line, just why he was the only one to survive this long at Kainen's side, and luck had nothing to do with it in any situation. As Greyson was about to take a breath to steady his nerves, he saw Kainen reel back. Greyson's eyes went wide in panic. There was no way, he wasn't about to throw a 3 year old across a street, he wouldn't. Just as it seemed that common sense had completely escaped Kainen's mind, he dropped the boy from his hand to his shoulder, then flipped him over and onto his feet, all the while Rhaegar roared in laughter, so much so that the crowd was even starting to chuckle at the boys delight. Once his feet touched the ground again, Rhaegar was off to his shop of choice under the watchful eye of his uncle and the beaten stare of Greyson. Turning back to Rhaelle and his friend, Kainan laughed. "Do I get some money for sweet bread too dear sister?" Of course he knew that he had all the money he could need hanging from his belt, but before there was a chance for Rhaelle to flip him off with a simple stare, the Flower stand caught Kainen's eye again. "Hey, you see that. They actually sell weeds to people. What a life these common folk have that they can afford to waste their money on weeds. Maybe they should rule the kingdom." What was troubling was, Kainen was at least 90% serious in his statement, all up until the part of them ruling, he liked his position, even if he never made use of it. And also, while speaking, he spoke again like it was the first time he had ever seen that flower shop, even if he been there not 5 minutes past. As he stood, still staring at the flower stall in confusion, Kainen heard a greeting to his side from a female voice. Evening? Kainan glanced at her with a raised brow and a slight tilt to his head. "I'm not sure if you are new around here but last I checked it's still morning lass." With that simply statement, Kainen was gone again. A normal noble from a great house may have been offended that someone would not address them properly, but Kainen's attention was far too short for this as he started to weave his way back towards where he spotted Rhaegar returning from and as the boy took a bite from his bread, Kainen snatched him up again, this time holding the boy by the foot, upside down, face to face with him, Rhaegar laughing again as he continued to eat his food. "What happened to my piece, or are you trying to eat enough so you get taller than me. Hmmm?"

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Biird: When Kainen reared back as if to throw Rhaegar against his sister's wishes, Rhaegar squealed with joy. Rhaelle's knights shifted unsure of what to do and almost hesitant to attack Kainen. Greyson paled to the near point of death. Rhaelle stood quietly watching as her brother falsely threw the boy, letting him fall to his shoulder then lowering him to the ground. A collectively sigh of relief came from not only Rhaelle's men and Greyson but from some of the people standing around them as well. Giggling like a mad person, Rhaegar darted off for his sweets. "You are a fool." Came Rhaelle's reply to his request for money. She turned slightly following the line of Kainen's brief and random logic to a merchant stall over run with flowers. "They are flowers. Father would bring them into the keep each time Mother stopped speaking to him and each time we were gifted a new sibling shortly there after. I highly doubt the common people are buying flowers." No, the common people were doing very little buying during the Harvest Festival, this was a time to squeeze all the nobles that would be gathering here for all they were forth. Another voice injected itself into their conversation. A female, vaguely familiar, who had no concept of time or even who she might have been addressing. Long treks did that to a person. It was disorienting to cross from region to region especially if doing so wasn't something you did often. She'd lucked out in her momentary lapse of judgement since Kainen cared very little for his title. No, that wasn't true. Kainen loved being the Lord Paramount of Storm's End, it meant he got to go and do practically whatever her wanted and for a man that moved and spoke on a whim it was rather convenient. It was even more so that he didn't have to have his title pointed out to people. His appearance alone let people know who he was, just like now, she'd spoken to him knowing he was a Baratheon, most likely suspecting that Kainen was indeed Kainen. Question was, what did she want or seek to gain from speaking with a Baratheon? Not that she was going to get anything, because there he went again. Giving the woman a nod, Rhaelle wasn't hard to recognize herself, with her thick black brows, weirdwood makeup, the eyes of a White Walker, standing taller than most females and of course her jet black hair cropped to her shoulders. "What do you want with my brother, Lady... " She left room for the woman to introduce herself. Meanwhile, Rhaegar let out another scream of delight as his uncle picked him up mid run. A spray of half chewed sweet roll crop dusted the people around them as Rhaegar, held up a bundle. "I got lots." The sweet roll in his hand shoved into his uncle's mouth. "It's good. No one's taller than you, Uncle Kainen. I will get big and strong, Mother says, but not as big as you. Nuh huh. I want to ride the Ferris wheel."

Highlander: Jory knew she was exhausted from the trip down to King's Landing but she hadn't realised how exhausted until just this moment, kicking herself internally for the slip that might cause her problems later. A long-fingered hand came up to run through her dark brown hair, letting out a sigh as she refocused. She turned when she heard a female voice address her, registering it as the princess, not quite as tall and oddly made up as the stories suggested but still quite so. "My apologies for the oversight my Lady. It has been a long trip." She offered another half-curtsy by way of apology, her chainmail clinking with the movement, glancing over at the large man tossing the boy and then back to the woman in front of her. "Jorsanna Mormont, My Lady. And I am escorting the Starks to King's Landing. It was impressed upon me that it was important you know when we arrived." she said, the horse beside her whickering at her as it gave its mane a little shake. She reached up, patting a hand against its neck gently to calm it- the milling mass of people was making it a little nervous. "It is good to see your family is doing well. My best wishes, and Lord Stark sends his regards - of course."

Grimm: As the sweet bread was stuffed into his mouth, Kainen chewed it quickly and swallowed it as if it were nothing more than a normal bite. As he licked the remnants of the bread from his lips, Kainen chuckled at the boys words of his height. "You never know, your father could be even taller than I am. I'll have to place a block on your head to keep you from growing too tall just in case." Turning the Rhaegar right ways up, Kainen sat him on his right shoulder, atop the slate plate as he looked around the area. Sometimes it was very handy indeed to be taller than almost everyone else, especially when trying to find something, or even someone. Spotting the boys request, Kainen made for the ferris wheel located not too far off from where they stood. Giving no glance towards Rhaelle or anyone else, just going. Greyson cast a questioned glance between Rhaelle, then Kainen, then back to Rhaelle again before he offered her a quick bow. "I must go My Lady, I will insure the young Lord is kept from too much, expensive trouble." The last two words were accompanied by an almost pained groan as he also bowed to the Lady Mormont. "Excuse me, also Lady Mormont." With that Greyson made a quick dash through the crowd that was now coming together again, like water, to fill the gap Kainen had left. Greyson himself was by no means short, standing 6ft tall, but he did not possess the same imposing stature of commanding presence that Kainen did, and even though he was tall, people tended to forget he was even there almost.

Diitzy: It’s been quite sometime since Rhaenyrs Baratheon has been to King’s Landing. There were only a few vague memories of King’s Landing. After everything she been through, she would rather live by the present day than recalling memories that could've been mistaken for dreams. The years began to feel longer as the she grew older with age. Now, things were much different. Rhae couldn’t even remember the last time she bathed or changed the clothes on her back. She crossed her arms over her waist, making the same motion with her legs.. Pressing her back into the alley wall while she listened to her crew bicker with other low lifes of the game before them. The game was simple, which involved a couple of dice. She paid really no attention to the conversation or their winnings. There wasn’t time to fool around and slack off on the job. They were informed to wait for the signal if they were needed. Of course it’s been like this for a few days now. With a sigh she wrapped her scarf over her face hiding the scars that made her recognizable to her enemies. “I’m going to get food”. She stated to the others. They waved her off as she walked pass them. “Come on Scribbles! We need to feed you, poor little guy. He’s going to starve to death”.. Having her head trail over to watch her precious companion prance over to her feet. Circling around, making little grunt noises to be hoisted up to perch on her shoulder. Lowering her arm for the pig to crawl up her arm to her shoulder. She didn’t want him to be trampled on by inconsiderate people. By a nearby merchant she purchased a handful carrots for Scribbles. As she explored the various merchants, she would occasionally lift her opposite hand up feeding Scribbles by hand. She would hold her arm up as long as the little pig needed to finish his carrot. When he wanted more food he would just make little scuffle noises which Rhae would just hand him another carrot. “When did it get so bright” her eyes began to water up adjusting to the sun as she closed her eyes wiping the excess water with her scarf as she began to wonder deep in the crowds of people. With the moisture build up along her eye lids. Her bright blue icy hues were highly extinguishable from the rest. Which made her stand out more with more of her Baratheon features as she stopped at one display of jewels. Picking up a necklace as she measured it next to Scribble's neck. "Hey do you think this is too big for his neck?" Staring at the woman then looking back at her pig then back at the woman.

Biird: "Nooo." Rhaegar whined at his uncle, clunking him on the head with the sack of sweets. "I want to grow tall. Tall as a tree so I can touch the Old Gods. Mother will never go without her red leaves. Mother says the Old Gods don't care about Southerners." Sitting on his uncle's shoulder now, Rhaegar wrapped an arm around Kainen's head, his fingers spread over his forehead, eyebrow and his pinky nearly in Kainen's eye. The bad of treats was between his legs, so he could dig in it with his free hand. "Mother says, it's because we cut down the trees. Mother says, the Old Gods love me even if the Seven don't. The Old Gods don't care about bastard babies being bastard babies." Mother says. Mother says. Rhaegar was a parrot for just about anything that left Rhaelle's mouth, well not anything, but most things. He talked on and on to his uncle because talking to Kainen was like talking to a whole in the ground. Kainen kept secrets better than any high septon because all things were tucked so deep into his subconscious he couldn't recall things that were said to him moments before. That, and he was one of the few people that didn't seem to mind Rhaegar's constant chatter. As Rhaegar babbled on about Old Gods and trees, he shoved food into his mouth and into the mouth of his uncle. The delight of being on Kainen's shoulder above all the other heads around him, always tickled him. While Kainen and Rhaegar enjoyed a nice stroll toward the ferris wheel, Greyson fidgeted and twitched with the urge to follow them. He excused himself, always polite and always formal. Yet the young boy's mother seemed unphased by the disappeared of her brother or her child. Rhaegar could be in no safer hands than Kainen's. She nodded to Greyson, effectively allowing him to rush off after his ward. Behind her, Rhaelle's knights shifted uncomfortable and without a word she turned and started a slow stroll behind her son and brother, as if she could feel the their own unease about missing the child. Of course to the two knights assigned to Rhaegar hand been ten steps behind him the entire time. They fell in step with Greyson as they followed the two the ferris wheel. "I am Rhaelle." She hardly tact on her title. Unfolding a hand, she motioned to her brother and son off in the distance. "My son, Lord Rhaegar and his uncle, my brother, Lord Kainen, Lord Paramount of Storm's End. You can tell my young cousins to stop their pampering and find me themselves. Jarik did well in sending you along with them. The more the merrier or so they say." The last part was a hint to the task placed in the Lady Jorsanna's hand by her Wolf Lord cousin at her request. It wouldn't have been surprising in the least to Rhaelle if his younger two siblings were none the wiser of her brief visit or their carefully laid plans.

Highlander: Jorsanna moved and fell in step with Rhaelle as she watched the young bastard chatter away ahead of them, cheerfully gorging himself on sweets. "He reminds me of my sister when she was a child. " a warm smile graced her stoic features as they followed along behind, the Mormont folding her hands behind her back as she did so. The sun was still more warm than she cared for but the conversation and the boisterous child ahead were helping keep her mind off of it. Her gaze swept back and forth out of habit as she replied to the Baratheon woman's statement. "I can't speak to their inclinations- I've only come to know them in person over the course of this trip." She paused taking her braid in hand and pinning it up off her neck with a pin produced from one of the pouches on her belt. "Well, you know I do love parties." she mused, another smile flitting across her features as she glanced at the princess beside her. She seemed an alright sort, not especially soft or annoyingly flowery as most women were.

Grimm: The best thing about little Rhaegar was, Kainen didn't even need to move his arms and he was still being fed food. Vivid purple eyes glancing from left to right, not scanning for dangers, not scanning for anything really, they seemed to just, look around for no apparent reason given that as soon as Kainen's eyes moved onto a new stall he had forgotten what the old one looked like and what it sold. The only time his gaze lingered on anything for more than a moment, it was either an animal being cooked over an open flame or a rack of weapons of moderate quality. As he brushed close by one such food stall, a leg was torn from a just finished turkey, a rather large piece by most men's standards, but in Kainen's hand it seemed barely bigger than a chicken leg. The keeper of the stall was almost about to protest the theft, though hesitant given who it was, but Greyson was quick to the scene and paid the man it's worth. At this stage, the young knight was almost on a first name basis with all the common folk of King's Landing, and as such most people just waited for him to appear in Kainen's wake. Without breaking his stride though, Kainen and his nephew quickly arrived at the base of the Ferris Wheel and Rhaegar quickly leaped from his uncle's shoulder, only to be caught by the back of his collar an inch from the ground lest he hurt himself and cause Rhaelle to inflict the same injury on Kainen himself. Kicking his feet in the air in a giddy fit, Rhaegar was then released and bolted the rest of the way into one of the carriages of the wheel, Kainen chewing on the remnants of the turkey leg that really didn't last as long as it probably should have. "Come with me, Uncle." Rhaegar shouted, but was only greeted with a wave. "When they build one big enough, maybe." The one in control of the wheel took a sigh of relief, knowing if the Lord of Storm's End actually wished to try his luck and fit in one of the carriages, there really wasn't anything anyone could do to stop him. As the carriages slowly filled, the ride began, and Kainen stood, now accompanied with Greyson by his side as they both watched the large wheel spin and the little Lord laugh happily between mouthfuls of sweet bread.

Diitzy: “What do you think? Scribs? Royalty suites you”. She held the mirror to the animal’s face. Shown in the reflection of the mirror the pig had his ears pinned back. Trembling from the five necklaces around his neck. With a inhale puff he grunted and shook vigorously having four of the necklaces fling off to the ground. “We’ll take all of them”, she smiled at the confused woman. Who was still trying to wrap her head around the fact this crazy person was buying highly expensive necklaces not for herself, but for her pet---pig. Rhae laughed and scratched underneath scribble’s chin as she dropped a bag of payment in the woman’s hand as she dropped down to pick up the other necklaces. While she counted them off, she noticed the large emerald medallion was missing. Darting her head up she already found the culprit who was pushing his way through the crowds. “Son of a--” she reached for her dagger she kept in the back of her pocket, which was also missing. Watching the boy stumble on to the ground, there was a glimmer of gold shine with the same pattern of colors from the jewels along her dagger’s handle. He turned and saw the look on her face. Giving him more than enough motivation to scamper to his feet and began sprinting desperately ahead. Instead of fighting through the crowds, like her thief did. She resorted to climb the structure next to her, trailing him from above as she waited for him to slow down. The boy frantically looked around for the woman, feeling like he was in the clear. He chuckled to the butterflies in his stomach as he caught his breath. He found himself just on the outskirts of the fair grounds, already planning his next heist as he dashed toward to pickpocket those who are not paying attention to their royal bags wrapped around their waist. Rhae pulled scribbles from her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him and dropped down from the roof she was observing from. Breaking her fall by rolling into the hedges, while she tailed the young boy. Placing Scribbles back on her shoulder. She pulled off her scarf. She assumed suffocating the little brat was better than pulling out her long heavy sword. With so many people, she didn’t want to cause too much of a scene. Considering she is suppose to be laying low back in the alley. “Come here little mate… “ She whispered to herself as she grew closer and closer to him.

Biird: Rhaelle didn't sweep the area with her gaze. She had a way of seeing panoramically, a strong peripheral vision perhaps, or perhaps she'd simply taught herself to view the world this way since she had such a dislike for allowing others to know what she was up too. In this way, she could take in a lot of details around her while appearing to be staring forward and focused on a single thing. Primarily, her focus was on Rhaegar, always, even if he had his own entourage which uncomfortably clucked into the carriage with him when his uncle declined. So it was true, Kainen did have some bit of sense. She came to the edge of the open circle in the center of which the ferris wheel sat and stopped. Without turning, and having yet to reply to the Lady Jorsanna, Rhaelle raised her hand,"Go away." Her men exchanged looks of confusion, but took ten steps back. That was their idea of going away. It must have been a very uncomfortable to live life in service to Baratheon's. They were all so different. The Lady Eirlys had sent them with strict orders to stay close to her daughter and grandson, but the daughter was constantly dismissing them. They could disobey neither woman and finding that small area where both women had their wishes forfilled took most of their energy. Unfolding her arms, untied her sash, bringing most of the heavy fabric around her shoulders, giving the appearance that she'd caught the morning chill in the air. Her pouch of gold was exposed on her backside. Reaching back, she removed another two gold and allowed one to fall behind her, the coin almost hidden in the patch of weeds that found it. The twinkle of gold caught the eye of one in search of such easily retrieved treats. She slipped into idle conversation about the journey from Bear Island to King's Landing with the Lady of house Mormont. A small presence crept up behind her, first knicking the gold from the floor then his sticky little fingers found their way to the pouch hanging carelessly behind her back. He'd already managed to lift two or three bags of coins today, some jewelry, but this was the biggest purse yet. A whimper of surprise left the young man when his wrist was captured by what appeared to be delicate fingers and a slim wrist. It should have been an easy get away, but her fingers flexed the strength of a man her size creating pain in the bones in his wrist. "I ain't mean no harm lady. Lemme go." He said as Rhaelle turned and brought down her dead gaze on him. Her knights reappeared quickly, sword loose in their sheathes. "How many purses have you stolen today boy?" He struggled and twisted in her grip but to no avail. "Ain't none of your business lady, lemme go."

Highlander: Jorsanna canted her head slightly at the Rhaelle as she moved the cloth across her shoulders, her brow furrowing as she didn't move, watching the odd behavior out of the corner of her eye. It was boiling hot outside- what was she doing? It was then she noticed the gold coin on the ground, turning when a boy cried out, the princess's grip tight on his arm. "If you would prefer My Lady, I can leave you to sort out your guest." she mused, not wanting to intrude on what was not any of her business. She took a step back from Rhaelle in a rustle of chainmail, allowing her the space to speak to the boy face to face.

Diitzy: The back of the boy’s head was her primary focus point. Everything else that surrounded her was a blur. Her imagination ran wild as her impulse for vengeance grew the closer she was to him. “AH-HA!” She roared in victory as her scarf wrapped around the boy’s neck. She wrapped the ends of the scarf around her hands and pulled tightly, choking him in the process. “Give… IT BACK. How dare you steal his necklace. The poor soul. He never did anything to you. I’ll have your head for even trying to ruin his day!!.” How could he ruin Scribble’s day. It’s one thing just stealing her dagger, but even thinking about ruining precious Scrib’s day? Rhae was not going to allow that. Her voice lashed out to him. Unaware of the particurment of him being held by the wrist. “AND YOU STEAL MY DAGGER. Do you have any clue boy who I am?” She growled and attempted to turn him around. With no success, she suddenly realised that the boy was being held by another individual. With her eyes widen from hearing her speak to the same thief. She’s heard that voice before. Many times. Once she saw the Baratheon’s face. So extinguished from the rest. She could never forget that face. It’s been years, everyone can change. Surely for Rhaenyrs Baratheon. She might of grew an inch since she was ten years old. Ten years of age, that was the last time she has ever seen anyone from her family. Through the four years of being a pirate, one thing was for certain. She never forgot where she came from and who her family was. The utter shock ran through her chest. Her bright blue eyes fixated on the female before her. Completely forgetting she was strangling the boy. He cuffed his only free hand in the small space between the scarf and his neck to pull away from him to allow the small airway retain air. “...Is it...really?” She questioned to herself. Her jaw dropped, her reactions even Scribbles picked up as he scuffled underneath the side of her chin pressing his nose against her cheek repeatedly. Who knew if Rhaelle was going to recognise her. She didn’t have two large scars on her face last time she was back at home. She wasn’t even dressed like the old Rhaenyrs. She actually let go of the scarf and still tried to untwist her tongue to attempt to speak to Rhaelle, her sister. She spun her head back and forth looking for her brothers as well.

Biird: Rhaelle shook her head to Jorsanna. "This won't take long at all." She'd spoken too soon and that didn't happen often. A scarf came circling around the boy's head, tightening around his neck with such force the boy jerked back and let out another yelp. Rhaelle didn't release his wrist either, but she was curious as to why two people were so hellbent on capturing this child. Immediately, the girl started to belittle him for stealing from her, causing her head to tilt. It wouldn't have mattered how many years at passed, she would know that voice. The moment the scarf loosened, Rhaelle twisted her wrist and sent the young thief into the chest of her awaiting knight. Wihout a word, Rhaelle moved forward and wrapped her arms around her little sister, the youngest Baratheon child, Lady Rhaenyrs Baratheon. "I knew you weren't dead."

Diitzy: A smile burst upon Rhaenyrs’s face with him agreeing with Scribbles past life and even then some added to his history. She let out a soft chuckle. “Well, the sea waters doesn’t really give off the best wash. Too salty for my taste, Matey” She winked at her nephew as the pig sat in between them. “Well, a Storm’s Lord such as yourself is no fool at all… I must the pirate you speak of.” She chuckled patting his head trying to play it off as a joke. Even though she already was caught red handed by a child of her true identity. . She watched him fling his arms up and his voice echoed across the area. “You don’t say? Scribbles it looks like he knows you better than me! Who ever thought” She chuckled as the pig pushed his back into her side as the ride moved. She never really enjoyed herself like this. She never entertained herself with amusement rides such as this, this moment with enjoying her nephew was worth every minute as she watched him happy telling better tales than she could ever tell. “You are quite fearless aren’t you?” She watched him move through the cart on his legs as she didn’t show any signs of concern. If he put himself into danger she’d be right there to jump out of the cart. Nevertheless, he had a bright mind on those shoulders of his. She wasn’t too worried for her nephew. The ride slowed down to come to an end. “What shall we do next? Perhaps another ride? Or shall we play one of those games where you win a prize? Scribbles could use a new hat.” The pig oinked to hearing his name, while Rhae’s tossed her arm out for the pig to climb back up where he belonged.

---

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Highlander: Jorsanna was watching this all unfold with raised brows, looking between the two women who clearly knew each other. Her mossy gaze flicked back to the boy who had been thrown to the knight, looking at him with a canted head. "What is it for?" she asked quietly, her gaze flicking down to his hand where he still clutched the coin in his fist. "Surely there is plenty of food to be begged or earned during a festival?" She paused , brushing the dark brown braid that had slipped around back over her shoulder with a roll of the shoulder. "Or was it the thrill?" she pinned him with her steady gaze for a long moment, face unreadable. She could see the Lord Paramount with his back still to them, watching Rhaegar like a hawk. The kerfuffle would likely draw his attention soon. She gave the boy in front of her one last perfunctory look and turned in a muted jangle of cloth and chainmail to the two women still embracing.

Grimm: The Ferris Wheel did a full circle once all carriages were full, but as it came to a slow halt Kainen whirled his finger in a circle as he glanced towards the one operating the contraption. The young lad didn't even dare to hesitate as the wheel made another long rotation. Those waiting for their turn took a look towards Kainen who didn't even seem to notice them at all, his eyes fixed on his nephew who was still shoveling his sweet bread into his mouth. As it came to another halt, Rhaegar burst from the ride and Kainen quickly swept him up onto his shoulder once more. "Uncle, that was amazing, I got to go around two times!" Behind them, Greyson was paying the man for the ride before quickly returning to his charges side. It was no wonder Kainen was surprised about flowers being sold when he never paid for anything in his life, that was all Greyson's doing. Pausing, Kainen looked around for a moment, possibly for something to eat or perhaps for another ride for Rhaegar to partake in, which the young boy would hardly object to doing. "My Lord, perhaps we should check in on his mother, before she comes looking for you." Greyson always had a way with words, so rather than wording something that may seem like a command, he worded it that worked on Kainen's lack of love for sister reprimanding him with a swift tug on his ear, or perhaps another spear to the feet, only next time she might not miss. Nodding his head, Kainen walked back to where he spotted Rhaelle embracing what seemed to be a rather short female. This peaked his rather short attention and interest as he brushed through the crowd to come to a halt behind the small female a moment after Rhaelle released her. As the girl took a step backwards, Kainen gripped her the same way he did Rhaegar, by the scruff of her neck, gripping the cloak and her top so as not to choke her. Hoisting her from her feet with his left hand, Rhaegar still perched on his right shoulder, Kainen turned her around and rose her eye level with both him and his nephew. Greyson ran up to his side, hands held out and mouth open ready to plead for him to release the poor girl for she had done nothing. That was until he saw who she was and his brow furrowed. Greyson knew every member of the Baratheons house, he had been by Kainen's side since they were no older than Rhaegar himself. Lowering his hands to his side, Greyson glanced at Rhaelle before retreating a step. Meanwhile, Kainen was still silent, staring at the girl, until it was finally broken by Rhaegar. "She looks like a tiny Mommy." Rhaegar had tilted his head to the side as he took another bite of his bread. "What is she uncle?" Kainen gruffed though a smile crept across his lips. "She is a tiny version of your mother. She is your Aunt, I think, you are still family are you not? Rhaenyrs? I don't think time changes that? You know what has changed however. They actually try to sell flowers now." And once again, there went Kainen's train of thought as he placed Rhaenyrs back onto the ground again, only for his eyes to land on a pig on her shoulder which he then picked up between his index finger and thumb, surprisingly careful as he did not crush the tiny animal in a swift pinch. "I think this would go well with your sweet bread, What do you think?" Kainen bounced his shoulder that Rhaegar sat upon who only giggled and laughed in response.

Diitzy: Rhaenyrs was brought back into reality the moment her sister, Rhaelle, draped her arms around her. The tension in her shoulders dropped from having her guard up. She wrapped her scarf loosely around her neck just before wrapping her arms around her sister just clinging as long as she could until Rhaelle broke the embrace. It’s been four years since Rhae even spoke to her family. There was no way she would let go. There was a possibility she was never going to see them again. The moment the brief embrace was over she turned to the side tilting her face away. Gathering all the emotion built up in her face as all her time as a pirate she hasn’t shown weakness. She wasn’t going to start anytime soon. She inhaled with a grunt from clearing her throat from all the tension. Just as she looked back at her sister and parted her lips briefly to speak to her. She was hoisted in the air by an arm. Scribbles squealed of the sudden lift pressing his body as tightly as he could underneath Rhae’s neck. Rhae only wondered as she gripped on to the arm pulling it away with her all her might for air. Hearing her brother speak to her for the first time in four years. She pulled her chin up to the air to gaze up at her brother Kainen and her newly known nephew Rhaegar. The very sight of knowing who had a hold of her made her burst into a half crooked smile. “Flowers?” She questioned as he placed her back on the ground where she planted her feet. After all this time, it was good to see her family the same as they were before. In that moment her mind could of slipped about the thief and her stolen possessions. Until she overheard the woman speak to the thief. As the thief pouted of being caught, her eyes darted over to the thief. She needed closure. The boy was being strung by his arms which gave an open opportunity for her to take back what was hers. Rhae lowered her arm to the ground allowing Scribbles to run down and sit right next to where she was standing. She pointed at the ground commanding him to stay. Scribbles sniffed the ground and sat just as he was told. Kainen picked up the pig as Rhae shook her head and her hands gesturing nearly ready to have a mental break down. “Brother! That my beloved Scribbles. He is not food! Put him down!!” Awaiting him to release her precious pig. Once Scribbles found himself safely on the ground she sighed in relief feeding him more carrots. Memorized by him gobbling up all the carrots gave her all the more reason to get back his necklace. He deserved all the finest jewels in the world. Let alone, the thought also brought back her dagger and the importance behind the dagger. Rhae looked up at her sister and brother who held onto their nephew “Pardon me just a moment my dearest family….” She walked over to the boy, already closing his eyes wincing with every stride she took. She already nearly killed him by suffocating him. Rhae lifted her palm directly in front of him and stated firmly, “...Can I please have my merchandise back?”. She awaited him to be released for a brief moment. The moment he could pull in arm in his back pockets she began to make a fist in her other hand. She fixated her sight at the palm of her hand as the necklace and dagger were dropped into her possession. She turned away while she adjusted herself putting her dagger in it’s rightful place and the necklace back in her coin bag. “...I don’t see the big deal is.. It was a necklace for a stupid pig”. He just had to open his mouth. She sprung right back around and glared with her flesh just boiling upon its surface. “What did you say, Boy?” She didn’t care for his response as she flung her arm behind her and lunged forward directly into his gut. The impact knocked him out of breath as she leaned in whispering to him, “You should be grateful that today isn’t the day I will take your life…. You better hope we never meet again, If I ever see your head in my presence again I will kill you.…savvy?” The whisper was dull enough for only his ears. As she walked away leaving him speechless. She clapped her hands together as spoke happily breaking the tension. “It’s so good to see you, brother, sister, urm Nephew??” She blinked a few times and just stared at him while picking up her pig Scribbles cuffing him in her arms.

Biird: They were about to exchange words when Kainen's looming presence nearly blotted the still rising sun behind him. She knew well her brother's movements so her arms folded back under her breast. Flicking her eyes upward she watched as their little sister was hoisted into the air and brought to his face, where she was scrutinized by both Kainen and her blonde son with the wild, large grey eyes. Rhaegar nibbled like a chipmunk on roll, leading his mother to wonder just how many of those things he'd brought. Holding out her hand for the bag, didn't disrupt Rhaegar's questions about the woman hanging form his uncle's hand. Rhaelle took the half empty bag and folded down it's edges to see the rolls left inside. They weren't small rolls either and half the bag was gone. She held up her palm and was given the last half of his roll, which she plopped into the bag and closed it, handing it off to one of the knights sent to watch him. Rhaelle's eyes rolled to hear her brother complaining about the sale of flowers again. "Don't encourage him." She said as Kainen put their little sister back on her feet. There wasn't a moments piece as her pig was plucked from the ground by Kainen, setting both the creature and her son squealing, one in horror the other in delight. Rhaegar wrapped both his little arms around Kainen's head and wiggled happily, "But I'm the suckling pig, uncle!" He chimed happily. When the pig was safely on the ground again, their sister was off, storming toward the little thief that had brought them all back together. Rhaelle took half a step back, the ball of her stationary foot twisting as the turned to watch her little sister, the little girl who had once worn nothing but fine dresses and stuck close to their mother's side when not trailing behind herself or Kainen, stalk that boy like a wolf in the wood. The sorrow and pain that had been in her face when Rhaelle brought her into her arms was gone and replaced with the same steely rage that was often the only emotion Rhaelle ever gave into. Rhaenyrs dealt the thief a blow to the gut that had Rhaelle letting out a low whistle. All that silence he'd given the Lady Mormont should have stuck when Rhaenyrs frisked him for her things back. As though nothing at all had happened, their little sister turned cheerily back and gave a questioning look to Rhaegar. Rhaelle gripped her son by the shirt and lowered him to the floor in front of her, folding her hands on the top of his head. "This is Rhaegar. He is my son, your nephew." She nodded over Rhaenyrs' shoulder to Jorsanna. "We were just strolling through the faire with the Lady Jorsanna Mormont. Lady Mormont this is our sister, Rhaenyrs." Purposely, Rhaelle didn't tag her sister as a lady. She was far from the quiet little lady in training she used to be, with her leather trousers, cropped top, thick warn scarf around her neck, jewels in a coin pouch, a dagger on her hip and a sword on her back. Then of course there was that pig.

Highlander: The lack of titled introduction did not go amiss, but the girl was still a Baratheon. "My pleasure My Lady." Jory said, dipping her head a little in greeting though she moved her eyes back to Rhaelle without hesitation. "If there is nothing else to discuss my lady I should go and see to my charges. It would not do to be negligent just now, after all." she said, her gaze flicking to the keep and then back to the taller woman standing next to her. "It was a pleasure to meet your family of course." She said, patting the horse whose reins she still held on the neck.

Grimm: The snack had a name, which would have confused Kainen but knowing his little sister she tended to name a lot of things. Such a carefree life some people had, Kainen thought to himself while he was over here ruling, something, he had to rule something. Kainen's head tilted back as one hand crossed his broad chest and the other rested against his chin in thought. He definitely had something to rule, but what was it, it was important, as important as training, keeping yourself strong, eating correctly, yes that was it, he had to eat properly. Satisfied that he came to the correct conclusion and with Rhaegar gone from his shoulder now, Kainen turned. "Let us be off Blackdaughter." Greyson actually had to catch himself from smacking Kainen on this occasion. Many times he had forgotten the mans name or gotten it wrong, but never had he gotten it so wrong as he did at that moment. Greyson's shoulders raised and fell, almost slumping forward as a long sigh just rolled from his lips. Bowing towards Rhaelle, Rhaenerys, Rhaegar, then to Jory Mormont, he took his leave and made his way after Kainen who at this point was following his nose. It was a wonder Greyson lasted as long as he did without either quitting of just stabbing Kainen in his sleep, though leaving would be far safer because killing Kainen was something an army would have trouble with. Yet a large part of him was happy to be by his friends side and he knew Kainen felt the same way, taking a lot of what the man did as a joke or a means to rile up Greyson. At least that's how Greyson choose to see it, because if it was not for the mother and Rhaelle, leaving Kainen as Lord Paramount with no supervision was a dangerous thing indeed.

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Diitzy: Rhae cradled her beloved pig Scribbles, before lifting him back on her shoulder. The weight of scribbles was nothing to the pirate. She actually enjoyed him being perched on her shoulder. He was far better than a stupid annoying parrot. She stared at her newly known nephew as her sister, Rhaelle introduced him to her. Before her sister was done introducing everyone to her she swung her arms around her nephew. “Look Scribbles! I have a nephew?! Can you believe it? “ She looked up at her pig, who was scuffling against her shoulder for dear life from her burst of movement. “So that would make you...his cousin, Scribbles”, she nodded with approval as the pig scampered from one shoulder to the next trying to keep balance. After a few moments she lifted body back to her height. Rhaenyrs wasn’t used to the bowing for the formalities anymore. Last time she saw anyone bow to her it was back on the waters while on the job. Most of the time those bowing are mostly on their knees pleading pathetically for mercy. “She watched as her brother take off with Greyson trailing after him, she smiled and waved them off as she turned her sister. “What of our other brother, Azaroth? Has he returned? Is he still alive? How is mother?” She began to flow with questions to her sister for it’s been so long. With every question asked she seemed to only speak faster with every word. She also kept her eyes wandering around looking for other pirates, enemies, or perhaps any signal. Mainly worried for the others of her crew to know her true name. Either way she wrapped her scarf over her face to hide the scars.

Biird: As he watched her, the gears of his mind started to turn until finally Rhaegar knew exactly who was standing in front of him. Rhaenyrs throwing her arms around him didn’t stop his reaction in the least. “Mother says family is never forgotten, never left behind. You are the aunt Mother says is always in our hearts. You are the aunt who went to the sad Greys house but no come back with her husband thing. I know you!” He said locking his arms around the aunt who was not much bigger than he. When she spoke of the pig being his cousin, Rhaegar let out a sound something like joy and something like a mocking pig squeal, pulling the animal into their fold to caution him,”Uncle Kainen won’t understand, you should stay way. Uncle Kainen likes to eat piggy cousins.” Unfolding from their embrace, Rhaenyrs tumbled questions at her the way Rhaegar often did and Rhaelle only smiled because before she could part her lips Rhaegar was on it. His excitement over this long lost aunt, who had become some sort of wonderful folktale in his mind from his mother’s stories, had completely taken his attention, yet hadn’t deviated him from wanting to ride another attraction. He took her small hand in his and rattled out answers to her questions. “Uncle Azaroth is in the flower land. Mother says he’ll probably come back with a liking for boys. Grandmother only likes me on some days and not on others, but,” he patted her hand reassuringly then,”I am sure she still loves you the most.” Then the conversation took a sharp turn, as he led his newest friend and aunt to the swinging gondola with his mother following aimlessly behind. “Are you a pirate? Do you call people salty sea dogs? You can’t be no lady wearing pants. Grandmother says only men and lowlifes wear pants. I don’t think you’re no lowlife. You got pretty jewels for Scribbles. How come you’re a pirate now? Are you staying with us? You should. Mother says, this place will be very lively soon, whatever that means. Will you ride this with me? Uncle won’t ride things with me. He says they’ll break and they don’t serve food.” Behind them, Rhaelle looked over her sister. She was still petite, still holding her strong Baratheon traits, but her face was marred by scars that somehow only served to make her more beautiful in the eyes of her older sister. She still had her old grace and posture and childlike antics and she was still obviously a great lover of animals, but what held Rhaelle’s attention were the brown sheep skin gloves on her hands. The etchings they held brought vivid memories of a particular man’s gloved hands as they ran over her bare body one faithful night three years ago. The memory caused her posture to stiffen if that clumsy clout was anywhere near this region at this time all seven hells could break loose at once. The Lady Baratheon with the bastard boy had all but contented herself with never seeing that drunken louse again. Of course she would not deny him the rights to see and know his son, but she’d also been quite happy to rear Rhaegar completely on her own.

Diitzy: Some sort of flush ran over her cheeks, while Rhae listened to her nephew, Rhaegar. It brought so much joy to hear that she hadn’t been forgotten. The only thing that motivated her this far was to make it back to her family. All the words coming out of Rhaegar’s mouth were almost a blur as she was so caught up in awe. She gazed at her fingers of the gloves she wore, symbolizing the crew she served as the pirate she had become. The word pirate brought her back to paying attention as she didn’t even know how to go about talking about being a pirate. Considering she was already making a name for herself as the pirate she is, she wasn’t going to risk endangering her family for the life she lives now. She patted his head as she skipped the questions of being asked about a pirate. She wasn’t going to lie to her family, nor was she going to speak the truth at this time. “Why don’t we go on that ride eh? Scribbles enjoys rides.. Don’t you? ” She questioned her little pig as he was wrapped up in Rhaegar’s grasp. It wasn’t without a question she would love to stay with them. “Perhaps I should find myself some more appreciate clothing. Mother always knew best” She smiled as she tried to keep up with him on to the ride. “Have you even met a pirate, nephew? Or do you even know what one looks like? “ She questioned him as she pulled out her coin bag while they waited in line. While they were next in line, Rhae stepped in front of Rhaegar having her gold coins drop in the hand of the operator. Even if she overpaid at least she didn’t have to hear about rather or not Scribbles could ride. This didn’t hurt her none by the sound of coins clashing in her bag, she still had a full bag. Even after how much she paid for Scribbles necklaces. “I bought those necklaces for Scribbles because he deserves nothing but the best. I believe wherever he came from he’s the long lost king of his kind. I mean look at that face. That is the face of royalty!” She crooked a smile at him as she mounted the ride. “I will stay here with my brother, sister, and yourself. There is no place I would rather be at the moment” She dropped her arse on the seat for the ride as she slouched back glaring through the crowds with a head turn but focusing on her little nephew.

Grimm: The trip from Winterfell to King's Landing was not a completely boring one, Varien spending most of his days either talking to his sister Mirna or the guards that were sent with them, a few he knew as they were from Winterfell and not Bear Island that had come with the Mormont woman. Just what their reason for going, Varien was given a very brief overview to stay aware, stay close to the Lady Mormont and listen to his cousin Rhaelle Baratheon, and to stay out of trouble. Though the last section was said only by an older brother than had never sent his siblings so far from his sted before. Unlike his older brother however, Varien was far more versed in the matters of courtly etiquette and so was his younger sister, it was the now Lord Paramount of Winterfell that struggled in such a department. The stop in the tavern outside of King's Landing was brief, but now that they were within the city walls, Varien was quite taken back by just how long and cramped such a place could be. The North was large, far more so than the rest of the Seven Kingdom's almost combined, so finding one in such a crowded environment was strange and a bit off putting, yet he would adapt and overcome. The Lady Mormont had left them with their guards to venture towards the fair grounds, it seemed like an interesting location but it was clear she was not one for the role of babysitting. As such, Varien would explore the Capital himself, with his guards of course, and his sister whom he was sure would relish the opportunity to go shopping for new dresses in a style vastly different to the furs needed within the North's lands. Stepping out of the carriage, Varien turned and extended his hand to his sister Mirna to aid her in her decent from the wooden box and to the rather mucky ground beneath, though such conditions were hardly new to them. Dirt was the same regardless of region. "Come, sister, let us see what this capital has to offer while we have the chance."

GiaMaraDeScala: Mirna had crinkled her nose more often at the smell that was well known when you approched King's Landing, she and her brother had jested with each other about the stink. She was dying to get out of what seemed to much like a cell to her already after their long journey. Lady Mormony had been to kind to them the whole time, but seemed rather hasty to be rid of Varien and her that it seemed like it was them that smelled like the stink that came from King's Landing. She let out a sigh of relief once her brother exited their wooden box of a carriage and turned to hold out his hand to help her, she gathered her blue and gold skirts to not trip over the hem as she finally got to stretch her legs that had been aching. She took Varien's hand and smiled as she stepped down the steps and into the mucky ground. Her grey eyes lifted as she took in their surroundings as all the noise and sights of the fair grounds sank in. This was the first time she she had ever seen King's Landing and she was excited to go and explore. Hopefully her brother wouldnt notice how excited she was to be seeing a place so new. With a bright smile across her plump lips she looked at Varien* "Do you think we will get to see the jousting tournaments? I feel like I dont know what I want to do first."

AnonymousSavage: Never had Viper been to Kings Landing in his life, it was rare for the boy to get out much in general other than the 5 years he was allowed to spend at the Reach. Not only was it his first time there but also it was a first time for the young Lord being alone especially without Barlan by his side. Earlier before his departure from Kingsgrave Viper had instructed Barlan that he was to stay behind and look over his younger brother and twin sisters. Naturally his protector was against the idea at first but being the Lord, Barlan had to unwillingly comply to his demands and simply left him a warning to not stir up any trouble and to watch his back. “Wow, this place is giant!” he’d say to himself while he looked around the vast area to the parts he could see while knowing there was even more to find out about. Onwards he walked into the streets of Kings Landing which was filled with plenty of people from different places or natives but Viper was enjoying every bit of this new atmosphere. Exploring was the key word for today’s adventure and that’s just what he had his mind set too having his eyes gaze from building to building, arms remaining by his sides while partially trying to keep his senses aware for any random threats that could emerge or people he could befriend there was no telling what this city had to offer today for the young Lord.

Grimm: The trip from Winterfell to King's Landing was not a completely boring one, Varien spending most of his days either talking to his sister Mirna or the guards that were sent with them, a few he knew as they were from Winterfell and not Bear Island that had come with the Mormont woman. Just what their reason for going, Varien was given a very brief overview to stay aware, stay close to the Lady Mormont and listen to his cousin Rhaelle Baratheon, and to stay out of trouble. Though the last section was said only by an older brother than had never sent his siblings so far from his sted before. Unlike his older brother however, Varien was far more versed in the matters of courtly etiquette and so was his younger sister, it was the now Lord Paramount of Winterfell that struggled in such a department. The stop in the tavern outside of King's Landing was brief, but now that they were within the city walls, Varien was quite taken back by just how long and cramped such a place could be. The North was large, far more so than the rest of the Seven Kingdom's almost combined, so finding one in such a crowded environment was strange and a bit off putting, yet he would adapt and overcome. The Lady Mormont had left them with their guards to venture towards the fair grounds, it seemed like an interesting location but it was clear she was not one for the role of babysitting. As such, Varien would explore the Capital himself, with his guards of course, and his sister whom he was sure would relish the opportunity to go shopping for new dresses in a style vastly different to the furs needed within the North's lands. Stepping out of the carriage, Varien turned and extended his hand to his sister Mirna to aid her in her decent from the wooden box and to the rather mucky ground beneath, though such conditions were hardly new to them. Dirt was the same regardless of region. "Come, sister, let us see what this capital has to offer while we have the chance."

GiaMaraDeScala: *Mirna had crinkled her nose more often at the smell that was well known when you approched King's Landing, she and her brother had jested with each other about the stink. She was dying to get out of what seemed to much like a cell to her already after their long journey. Lady Mormony had been to kind to them the whole time, but seemed rather hasty to be rid of Varien and her that it seemed like it was them that smelled like the stink that came from King's Landing. She let out a sigh of relief once her brother exited their wooden box of a carriage and turned to hold out his hand to help her, she gathered her blue and gold skirts to not trip over the hem as she finally got to stretch her legs that had been aching. She took Varien's hand and smiled as she stepped down the steps and into the mucky ground. Her grey eyes lifted as she took in their surroundings as all the noise and sights of the fair grounds sank in. This was the first time she she had ever seen King's Landing and she was excited to go and explore. Hopefully her brother wouldnt notice how excited she was to be seeing a place so new. With a bright smile across her plump lips she looked at Varien* "Do you think we will get to see the jousting tournaments? I feel like I dont know what I want to do first."

AnonymousSavage: Never had Viper been to Kings Landing in his life, it was rare for the boy to get out much in general other than the 5 years he was allowed to spend at the Reach. Not only was it his first time there but also it was a first time for the young Lord being alone especially without Barlan by his side. Earlier before his departure from Kingsgrave Viper had instructed Barlan that he was to stay behind and look over his younger brother and twin sisters. Naturally his protector was against the idea at first but being the Lord, Barlan had to unwillingly comply to his demands and simply left him a warning to not stir up any trouble and to watch his back. “Wow, this place is giant!” he’d say to himself while he looked around the vast area to the parts he could see while knowing there was even more to find out about. Onwards he walked into the streets of Kings Landing which was filled with plenty of people from different places or natives but Viper was enjoying every bit of this new atmosphere. Exploring was the key word for today’s adventure and that’s just what he had his mind set too having his eyes gaze from building to building, arms remaining by his sides while partially trying to keep his senses aware for any random threats that could emerge or people he could befriend there was no telling what this city had to offer today for the young Lord.

Biird: "Mother says, a Storm Lord without a good pirate at his side is a fool." Rhaegar retorted quickly when being questioned about his knowledge of pirate. He hadn't exactly answered the question but he knew what he knew and that's always what relayed. "Of course I know what a pirate looks like. They look like you! You got fancy things but you need a wash." They climbed into the ride and Rhaegar plopped down for a mere secondly before rising onto his knees to look out the side as the ride began to move. His aunt and knew favorite person started to speak again so he plopped, feet swinging while he looked over the little pig. "Royalty..." Rhaegar nodded sagely as if coming to some deep contemplative decision. "Yes, I think he was a king of pigs on the little peninsula in the Summer Isles. I bet the basilisks even feared him and his father before him!" His arms went up, the last of his sentence coming as a shout that started the rest of the riders. He even gave his guards a start because they never knew when he was in trouble, in need or just being loud. As always they took side glance to Rhaelle gauging whether or not they would pay dearly for being lax in their duties. The Lady Baratheon was a hard one to read however. They never quite knew was going on being those frightening blue eyes and it was unsettling. They were already inches shorter than her and from years of training at the keep in the Storm Lands, they'd seen her topple Kainen a few times. Reprimand from this woman was not something they wanted in their meager lives. Rhaelle hardly paid them any mind at all in reality. She kept her eyes on her son and her youngest sister, all the while scanning the crowd for a familiar set of dirty blond locks in a drunken sway. What she came upon instead were the sights of her Stark cousins. Flicking her hand, Rhaelle dismissed a single guard. "Go there. Bring my cousins to me." He dipped in a bow,"My Lady," was his only response before turning and cutting through the crowd toward the Starks who were fresh from their carriage.

Diitzy: A smile burst upon Rhaenyrs’ face with him agreeing with Scribbles past life and even then some added to his history. She let out a soft chuckle. “Well, the sea waters doesn’t really give off the best wash. Too salty for my taste, Matey” She winked at her nephew as the pig sat in between them. “Well, a Storm’s Lord such as yourself is no fool at all… I must the pirate you speak of.” She chuckled patting his head trying to play it off as a joke. Even though she already was caught red handed by a child of her true identity. . She watched him fling his arms up and his voice echoed across the area. “You don’t say? Scribbles it looks like he knows you better than me! Who ever thought” She chuckled as the pig pushed his back into her side as the ride moved. She never really enjoyed herself like this. She never entertained herself with amusement rides such as this, this moment with enjoying her nephew was worth every minute as she watched him happy telling better tales than she could ever tell. “You are quite fearless aren’t you?” She watched him move through the cart on his legs as she didn’t show any signs of concern. If he put himself into danger she’d be right there to jump out of the cart. Nevertheless, he had a bright mind on those shoulders of his. She wasn’t too worried for her nephew. The ride slowed down to come to an end. “What shall we do next? Perhaps another ride? Or shall we play one of those games where you win a prize? Scribbles could use a new hat.” The pig oinked to hearing his name, while Rhae’s tossed her arm out for the pig to climb back up where he belonged.

Grimm: Varien contemplated the options for himself and his sister to do during their free time, eyes glancing around the crowd and raising onto the tips of his toes as best he could in order to pick a direction. The sun also did not aid in his ability to take in his surroundings, but rather than need to decide for himself, Varien was quickly confronted by a guard garbed in the colors of the Baratheon house. "Lady Rhaelle wishes for you to join her, my Lord." The guard offered a small bow to Varien as he stood slightly to the side, arm extended in the direction from which he came. Varien followed the path indicated and spotted his larger than life cousin. A smile tugged on his lips, a familiar face was a nice thing to have in such a foreign place, though that is where the familiarities ended. Varien had very little interaction with his cousins, any of them, that was more Jarik's department, yet it was still pleasant to see her. "I guess we go that way first, Mirna." Varien responded to his sister finally and once she was ready to move, the guard lead the way back to Rhaelle as Varien, his sister and their guards moved towards them. The closer they got, the taller Rhaelle was getting. Varien only stood at 5'6'', he was still young, but his cousin, in fact all the Baratheons were far too tall for their own good. "Lady Rhaelle, it is good to see you again cousin. How are you enjoying the harvest festival? " Varien tried his best not to strain his neck looking up towards her, even if she were family, he was a male and a Lord of Winterfell, even if he was never going to be The Lord, he still had a presence to maintain, even around family.

GiaMaraDeScala: *Mirna chuckled softly as she watched Varien raise to the tips of his toes, she shook her head but she had also knew the way it felt being so short. She was even shorter than her brother, she watched as a Baratheon guard met them. She looked over in the direction that the guard motioned and she slipped her arm into the crook of her brothers arm and followed through the crowd.* "Well we don't want to keep our cousin waiting.." *her eyes widen as she took in the size of her cousin, compared to Mirna and Varien she seemed like a giant, and wondered if the storied she had heard about Lady Rhaelle were true. She stood silently beside her brother as he spoke first and smiled once he was done. "Lady Rhaelle, it is very good to see you. It looks like you have been enjoying the festival." *Mirna looked over at a small pig and grinned, her eyes catching a young boy and another young woman.*

AnonymousSavage: Viper was having a ton of fun and yet he hadn’t even stopped at a single place yet nor talked to any random persons, it was simply the fact that he was allowed to be around a whole new group in an entirely new area which made it fun. Looking around more and more with a smile on his face, Viper wasn’t fully paying attention and ended up accidentally bumping shoulders hard with this very well dressed male. Turning towards his direction with a surprised look on his face the random male scolded him with “Watch where you walk kid!” giving a scowling look upon his face as if Viper had spit on him or something. His heart began to pound as he could sense the tension of this moment that could possibly escalate into a brawl and this was definitely starting to send a slight amount of erotic pleasure through the body of the boy while this harmless smirk remained on his face. His thoughts screamed to just bash this guy in the face and just slam his head into the ground over and over and over until his blood and brain matter would be all over Vipers face covering him in his essence of death to lad to the boys climax in unimaginable ways. “Barlan told me not to cause trouble so pardon my lack of awareness hehe” is what he would say instead of committing his barbaric desires only to next turn around and walk off happily continuing his path to god knows where.-

Biird: Rhaegar practically lept out of the ride a moment before it came to a full stop. "What is there to be afraid!" He chimed happily already off to the next with his Aunt carefully in two because he refused to let go of her hand gloved hand. A few feet from the ride, Rhaegar stopped and looked around. "I want more food. If we find uncle Kainen we'll find food! Goooood food." With that Rhaegar rose onto this toes as if to look over the heads of the people around them, but that was not working, so he took a quick look around to see what his mother was doing before running over to his guard and kicking the man in the shin. "I want my uncle Kainen. I can't see him." A soft ping rang off the knight's shin guard. He looked down at Rhaegar, his face, behind the helm, was twisted in anger and annoyance but he wouldn't dare retaliate out in the open and defiantly not with The Beast of Storm's End so close at hand. Keeping his distaste for the little bastard reigned in behind his helm, the man cast his gaze around looking for the easily spotted Baratheon Lord. Behind them, Rhaelle greeted her Stark cousin. Each of them of average height in their fine clothing. She nodded to both, always disregarding a curtsy when she could. Her arms never unfolding. "Lord Varien, Lady Mirna. You look as though the travel fared you well." She turned then, nodding toward her son, who latched onto her little sister, and was feverish looking for something. She hadn't missed him kicking the Knight set to watch him, but his tiny foot could have hardly done any harm, besides that, Rhaelle hardly corrected Rhaegar in front of others, save for the flat, warning that was his name when he went too far. "My son is enjoying himself so here I am. I've seen the Lady Mormont already this morn as well. A rather lovely turn out for this merry occasion."

Diitzy: She chuckled as he leaped from the ride. “You truly are related to me” She gave a few claps in applying to her little nephew. She latched on to his hand, cuffing her gloved fingers around his fingers as she herself could eat. She mainly spent most of her money on food for scribbles, it never really occurred to her to buy food for herself. Usually she just nibbled on whatever Scribbles fancied. “From what I’ve learned any food that isn’t rotten fish is good food.” She laughed while he sprung into action kicking his guard in the shin. Just as he searched for her brother Kainen. She went over to one of the wooden posts that held one out of many decorations for the festival as she looked up. She could easily point out her brother in the crowd from that height as she wasn’t that tall either like Rhaegar. She let go of his grasp having Scribbles trail off the arm to drop down on the ground to sit at the post while she climbed to the top of wooden pole. Paying no attention to whatever eyes watched this crazy tiny women make her way up. Climbing ships that crashed over large waves came natural to her. For something in the soil that didn’t move was even easier, as she gazed through the crowds of people searching for her brother. The view from any angle was always better from above. She could see the clusters of crowds and the different colors for the different houses plus, everyone looked smaller than her, which made her happy. Maybe one day she would grow and carry on the Baratheon height. One could wish. After a few moments of scanning, she pulled her scarf off from her neck as she wrapped it around the pull and dropped down having her weight pushed against the post making a safe landing to the ground as Scribbles pranced around her feet in relief that she came back to him. “Oh my sweet darling, I could never part from you, even that was too long of being away from you” She reassured the pig as she latched right back to Rhaegar’s grasp. “I think I found him, shall we go?” She smiled pulling him up onto her back.

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Grimm: Varien stayed his place beside his sister as she greeted their cousin much in the same fashion he had a moment before. With his arms behind his back and one hand held in the other against his lower back, keeping a posture befitting his status and even if short, trying to have his presence speak well of the Stark house. Varien nodded to Rhaelle as she replied. "Indeed, and I hope it shall only improve in the next few days." Still Varien was not completely sure of the entire plan that was about to take place, but he knew enough to know a large change was about to befall Westeros. Be it good or bad, only the Old Gods could know at this point. As the Starks continued their idle conversation with their cousin, Kainen was meanwhile plowing his way through the crowd from one stand to another, luckily there were no flowers to cause too much of a scene and nothing else halted his attention for longer than it took to grab some food. Greyson all the time passing out silver coins to pay for all the almost stolen goods. A pause was given in Kainen's stride as he heard the familiar call of a rather small creature, or two rather, making their way slowly towards him. Greyson was first to turn to spot young Rhaegar and his Aunt Lady Rhaenarys, Kainen doing so a moment later, though his eyes were skyward as if trying to spot some squawking bird. "Creatures in the capital make the oddest sounds. I swear these birds are calling my name." Above him circled crows and ravens just waiting for the moment food would fall to the floor so they too could enjoy the feast. Greyson's attentioned turned back to his charge with a brow raised, he was serious, he could tell by the frown on Kainen's face as he watched the birds fly overhead, only to have Rhaegar a moment later, wrap himself around one of Kainen's large legs. Glancing down, he smiled at his Nephew and his sister, picking the bow up and sitting him on his shoulder. "You know birds can talk? I only just figured it out myself. I think they want me to share my food. You know what we say to birds that want to share your food nephew?" Rhaegar held up a fist to the birds and shouted at them. "NOT TODAY." Kainen laughed, Greyson sighed and then all of them moved off, Rhaenarys with them. "So little sister, you get bored of what's his name?" Greyson coughed as he leaned a bit closer. "Lord Greyjoy." He muttered to Kainen. "The Sadgreys, Uncle!" Rhaegar corrected Greyson as he kept watch of the birds, ready to attack them should they come too close to his uncle's food. "Yeah, both of them. You left and came home huh? I don't blame you, lots of free stuff in King's Landing." Kainen nodded happily as he walked past another food stall that he must have passed 3 times now as the owner almost signed and waited to be stolen form again. Though he knew he would be paid regardless.

AnonymousSavage: -Continuing onwards with his journey, Viper seemed to shrug off his last rather close call encounter, but the question was for how long would he be able to fend off his dark insatiable thirst? Looking on he stopped in his tracks immediately as his eyes fell upon this family of three seated upon the ground next to one of the building walls. By the looks of them they were indeed very much poor with the very skinny mother and two boys in very dirty clothes just asking for food but never receiving the slightest attention from. Silently he stared at them while others continued walking past and in the mind of Viper he thought “So frail and weak…. Someone could lead them off to a more secluded location and slaughter them in cold blood, and no one would even blink an eye about the lack of absence from that wall…. They’re sitting prey just waiting to be ripped from the face of the world… They leave me no choice… I have to, I need to... It is my god given duty to carry out this act…..” and so a very big smile emerged upon the boys lips and so forward he walked first stopping by one vendor only to buy a clay bowl and then began heading over to the family. Stopping once there the boy smiled down at them brightly and said “I’ve seen you around here asking for money, follow me and I can fix your troubles….” Leading to him turning and walking towards the back end of the building the family was rested against. Unsure at first the mother didn’t know how to respond but seeing him walk away led to all three following the path, and once they made their way to the back there Viper stood staring at them with his bright smile as the lady said “How is being back here going to help us?”. “The hunt….. The hunt…. Oh the sweet hunt for the exquisite taste of blood is so exciting when you have your prey unaware of their last moments… It's just too easy and all this can be finished in five seconds…” Viper thought within his head. Placing the bowl down onto the ground his right hand went inside of his pocket only to pull out a brown sack which next led to him pouring an estimated amount of at least 100 gold dragons. Once finished pouring he put the sack away only to give the family a wink saying “Take care!” and then run off from behind the building back to the main street and begin walking again with the flow of the crowd happily.-

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Biird: With the arrival of Rhaenyrs, who Rhaegar wanted his uncle to get up and find, the child’s excitement went through the roof. He followed his aunt to the edge of the bed in pursuit of the little pig she always kept with her – the King of the Basilisks, has Rhaegar had named him. Seeing the pig reminded Rhaegar of the story which he needed to tell his uncle. Bouncing up on the bed and back to Kainen the little bastard made grand hand gestures to support his wild story about the pig’s kingdom in a place he’d only heard about. This time around the story about Scribbles life on that island was much more than it had been when he’d spoken to Rhaenyrs the first time. As the tale weaved on towards an uprising in Scribbles supposed kingdom, Rhaegar suddenly remembered his former Septa, so his attention immediate shot there and he had to tell his uncle and his aunt about how mean she was. It was clear though that his favorite part of the story was his mother slamming the woman around then ordering her to the rack because that part he had to act out, doing a very exaggerated impression of Rhaelle’s facial features at the time and her over all actions.

“Mother says, the King is Maaaaaaaaaaaad.” Rhaegar plopped down on his uncle’s stomach,”I do not why he would be so upset but Mother sent the mean septa to him, so he could have something to be upset about.” He leaned in, gathering his aunt and uncle close,”Mother told a lie about the septa. Mother does that when people make her maaaaad.”

Whatever it was about that idea that struck him as funny, Rhaegar couldn’t contain himself and he laughed so hard, he rolled off the bed onto the floor. Quickly one of his guards picked him and dusted him off lest he tell the Lady Baratheon they’d pushed him. “Thank you…” Rhaegar frowned realizing he didn’t know the name of his guards; they changed so quickly. The man in armor simply nodded and set him on his feet. The child darted back to the bed and tried to pull his massive uncle out of it by his hand. Straining backward and trying to grind his heels into the stone, Rhaegar ended up sliding under the bed still holding the hand. “Uncle Kainen! There are dust rabbits under here.”

Meanwhile, Rhaelle breezed by Greyson and her lady Xara without so much as a passing glance. The doors of Kainen’s room began to open the moment the guards at the door saw her determined face coming their way. The doors to his inner chamber were quickly opened as well, just in time for her to watch her son disappear under the bed. Without shifting her eyes, Rhaelle saw her younger sister and her brother, but turned slightly to the right, motioning for page to come closer as she spoke to her brother. “Get up you lazy oaf. I am bored of this place.”

The page step up, staying a foot away from her, but close enough that when she spoke he would hear, and bowed. “Tell my Stark cousins, the Tullys, the Mormonts and our houses that if they wish to do more than keep their noble composure, we will be feasting in the Kings Crossing tavern.” The page nodded and ran off, mentally rewording the Lady Baratheon so he wouldn’t be whipped for her less than polite request.

Rhaegar ran out from under the bed and jumped at his mother’s feet, attaching to her legs. Without looking down, she patted his white gold head and let her fingers graze over his braid. “Come my son, would you like to see where you were conceived?” His head shot up, those stormy grey eyes wide and excited. “Yes, mother!” Tapping his head, Rhaegar detached himself from her legs and took her hand, leading her out the doors. “What does conceived mean, mother? Was I conceived in King’s Landing?”

“It means created and no you were not, but the surroundings will be similar.” Rhaegar continued to ask questions about his birth as they wandered down the hallway. Some were answered, others were not. It didn’t really seem to matter to the boy because he entertained his own fantasies.

Grimm: Rhaegar's constant talking and incessant bouncing on his Uncle's chest as little more than a light distraction to Kainen who was still in the process of waking up. It always took a good minute for the giant to rise and longer still for his mind to become aware enough to acknowledge his surroundings and those therein. Of course, every situation has it's exceptions and in this instance it was Rhaelle. Almost like a child, Kainen protested the idea of getting out of the large comfortable bed, but as Rhaelle left and Greyson entered in her wake, the Knight kicked the end of the bed, much like Rhaelle would which caused Kainen to slowly rise and eventually out of the bed completely, followed by him aiding Kainen with putting on his ever present armor.

"Rhaenyrs? When did you get here?" Kainen's eyes rolled to the ceiling as he stared at it for a long moment before realization hit him. "AH HA. So it wasn't a dream. You know we're going for a feast? Rhaelle always did have the good ideas."

Lead by the notion of a feast, Kainen finally breached his room and entered the corridor of the guest quarters of the Red Keep, Greyson a step ahead of him, leading his Lord and the Lady Rhaenyrs in the desired direction towards the tavern Lady Rhaelle spoke of a few moments prior.

Diitzy: For a moment Rhaenyrs was happily buzzed from her belly full of rum. Once Rhaegar’s mouth parted words came flying out and with every word he spit the faster his arms wiggled around him. The more he went on about his tales the less her sweet happy feeling in her head began to fade. “What a fantastic story, Nephew.” Only words she could bubble up. Perhaps there was more than one story but he was going so fast and from what she heard it was good. Seeing her sister entered the room she twirled from off the bed, twirling around her sister. “Look dearest sister! I look like a lady again! I can still fit in the same gowns as before! I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing but sure beats smelling like a fish” She giggled with excitement as she listened to her sister's invitation for the other house.“A tavern you say? What a marvelous idea!” She clapped her hands together scooting from the bed. Scribbles popping out from underneath the bed and plopping right underneath Rhae’s gown to hide from the giant Baratheon. With the word feast being spread about, Scribbles knew better to just hide from public view.  She blinked a few times at her Brother who just now noticed her as she waved. “Yep, been here this whole time watching our little nephew try to pull you out of bed. Glad to see you finally moving.” With every step she took Scribbles trotted along with her heels as she followed her family in the particular direction they were heading.

GiaMaraDeScala: *Small, pale skin hands smoothed down the skirts of her dress as Mirna turned towards the door of the guest quaters at the Red Keep , the gold threading at the hem of her dark blue gown brushed along the floor as she walked slowly down the corridor. Still not accustomed to the humid air in King's Landing, she left her dark brown hair loose. Cascading down her back down to her waist she wondered for a moment if she should have pinned it up in case it had gotten to hot. She was already home sick and missing the cold weather in the North, in fact she was standing trying to enjoy any cool breeze that came through the window when she had gotten word that her pressence would be enjoyed at a feast. As she made her way down to meet her escourt she wondered who else would also be joining at this feast. She was always just a bit shy at first and never knew what to say, especially among royalty, she didnt want to seem like most noble ladies that were always on the hunt for a crown or a marriage of arrangement for power or more gold. As she met up with a small group of guards they walked on to the tavern, her light grey eyes taking in what ever sights that they passed on the way*

Brute: Howland’s previously relaxed form changed to that one fitting of a guard, rigged in almost every way as the door to his Lady’s room opened up and out she walked. He had spotted her from down the hall, the only entrance or exit into this part of the keep which was why he was stationed here and not directly out side of her door. As she moved past the his head bowed lightly to her presence and like he had done since they arrived in King’s Landing he shadowed her, staying close enough to her form that he could maneuver her out of danger or shield her from harm if need be. It wasn’t until they had actually left the Red Keep that Howland was gifted back his sword, unlike most others this sword didn’t come with a sheath for the steel but it still sat well on his side. Further guards were soon added to their party, three large men of stocky frame followed at his sides, trailing behind the Lady Stark as she made her way to the appointed destination; although it would have been somewhat of an odd sight to see guards armed in the capital there was no questions from the roaming Gold Cloaks, the mere sight of the Northern men and the young Lady they followed would have been more than enough for them to tell she was of a Greater House and not someone they could afford to offend.

Biird: Rhaelle had nodded to her little sister. Seeing her in a dress brought back memories of her when they were young. Much of Rhaenyrs’ appearance hadn’t changed. Her demeanor, at its core, hadn’t much changed either. Her love of animals was stronger than ever. Rhaelle had never been much for pets. Stranger could hardly be called a pet, even calling him a companion was a bit of a stretch.

They were all escorted to the King’s Crossing. The crowded streets parted for the Lady Baratheon, her ladies and her men. There were hushed words surrounding their march through the streets and even more so when they entered the tavern. Almost immediately Rhaelle could spot the tavern owner, their wide eyes watching her from behind the bar, arm still wiping down a clean counter. They suddenly burst from around the bar and rushed to greet her, but Rhaelle held up a hand. “I need a long table, does not matter where.” The keeper nodded, moving quickly to find some tables and situate them to accommodate the noble guest.

Rhaegar was bursting at the seams, wiggling in place to keep from running around. He held tightly to his mother’s hand, giving it a little tug that couldn’t be helped when he wanted so badly to get into someone’s face and find out why they were in a place like this. “Mother…how does one make life in here?” His mother just patted his head. “I will tell you later. Right now we have to prepare a space mostly to fit your uncle.” Rhaegar squealed at the thought of his uncle joining them in this bustling place.

The keeper, motioned for Rhaelle and her party to move to the side of the tavern, off to the right of the front doors. She gave him a few coins and told him to send food and drink and keep it coming. He flushed red with delight and rushed off. Rhaelle picked up Rhagear and allowed him to run across the tables to the end to jump off. With a wave of her hand Rhaelle allowed all those that followed her in to take a seat and relax.

Grimm: Simply walking straight to the tavern was far too much to ask one such as Kainen Baratheon, no matter how inviting the end prospect was, the world and especially King's Landing and the Red Keep was far too enticing not to meander and lose one's self in the idea of, well, food. As the small group consisting of Kainen, Greyson and two other guards that were tasked with escorting nobles through the Red Keep, mainly under the order of a mad king that did not trust another soul, the group found themselves in the courtyard again and quickly into one of the kitchens, the same kitchen Kainen had visited when he first arrived in the Keep and was now as much a frequent guest as a drunkard in a tavern.

"Lord Kainen, a snack?"

The woman of the kitchen always had a pleasant demeanor when addressing the hulking Lord, she was a very friendly woman, small, round and red cheeked that seemed to live in that kitchen, accompanied by her husband who one would guess was a head chef of sorts. The man always grumbled when Kainen entered as his workload increased quite substantially since the Lords initial arrival. Behind Kainen, Greyson could only offer a smile and a small nod towards the man who sighed and then chuckled.

"For the road ma'am, I have a feast to get too."

Those kitchen could only laugh as the antics regarding Kainen's stomach were a rather comical topic indeed and quickly did they fetch a basket which was filled with a small chicken, 2 apples, some cheese and a flask of ale. Handing it to Kainen, he quickly went about devouring the small fowl as he turned and left the small establishment, Greyson handing the woman a single silver coin as payment to which he was given an apple and a smile. Taking it as to not seem rude, Greyson offered them a small bow before turning and leaving also.

The food however, barely lasted to the gate of the Red Keep, but it seemed to hold the large Lord over until they finally arrived at the tavern indicated by Rhaelle. Entering the room, Kainen inhaled deeply, filling his nostrils with the idea of even more food. Greyson also entered and spotted the gathering party to the side of the tavern and along a rather long table. Quick to catch Kainen's attention and direct him away from the possibility of breaking anything, the Lord turned and followed where indicated. As he stepped towards the tabled, a small body came flying across it, arms outstretched and diving against Kainen's massive chest, gripping to his armor and looking straight up at his face screaming "UNCLE."

"I appear to be under attack."

Kainen mocked as a massive hand moved and gripped the back of Rhaegar's shirt and pried him free of Kainen's chest, holding him before his face to which gained him a giggling child. "I hope you left enough food for me, little stag." A grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he tried to level his nephew with a mockingly concerned look.

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Diitzy: This truly was a marvelous idea to have all the houses get together in one particular spot for fulfilling feast. Not only could Rhaenyrs Baratheon reunite with old familiar faces from her past but she will be reunited with rum once more. The tiny Baratheon will always a be pirate underneath this luxurious dress. Which was just draped on her that morning after finally being found by her sister Lady Rhaelle Baratheon. Following her sister, nephew, brother, and other noble subjects she skipped right passed the group into the tavern’s large double doors with glee and excitement. Once the arrangements were made for the party.Her eyes began to scout the place out seeing where the the party was being held. Dashing directly right from the front doors she found herself a cozy spot in the corner. She kept her scarf over her face hiding the scars upon her face. It wasn’t the fact she was afraid of showing the world her face. It was the matter of who actually knew her by the scars she bared. The tavern was heavily guarded with so much noble folk coming to visit. The pirate in her couldn’t seem to let her guard down. Not even for a second.

Immediately after sitting down she did not hesitate to wave over one of the females working already ordering three bottles of rum, a bag of carrots, and most importantly a bowl for her dearest pet Scribbles. Knowing her sister would accommodate the party, she thought it might be best to pay for her own bar tab. As a pirate she is who knows how much she would be drinking this evening. Tossing a full bag of gold to ensure that her pig will have everything his little heart desired. Also to avoid any confrontation of having a pig in the tavern. No one was going to object with the amount of payment she gave.

Once the woman came back with what she requested. She placed the bowl down and filled it with some rum for scribbles. If he motioned towards the bag of carrots with his snout. Rhae will pull a carrot out of the bag and hand feed him like a newborn. This like most days always made Rhaenyrs day. After downing her first bottle, she figured it might be best to join the others and socialize. She wasn’t use to this lifestyle of socializing with others, not in this formality anyway. She creeped herself back into the group with Scribbles now on her shoulder. As she awaited for others to arrive.

PezDispens3r: -Lawrence Corbray yawned silently as his horse slowly ambled down the road, his forearm resting lazily on the hilt of his sword, using the pommel as a makeshift armrest as he turned to his left. Viewing the wide and open plains of the crownlands and all its grassy....splendor. Sitting on the back of his chestnut painted destrier was his second youngest sister Alisanne Corbray. Though it had taken a bit of pleading, more-so with regards to their mother, but Lawrence had managed to convince both of their parents to allow him to bring Alisanne to the tournament in King’s Landing. Lawrence believed that it was about time his little sister got a chance to see the world, as to his knowledge this was the first time his little sister had ever left the Vale. Truthfully this had been the first time for him as well, as that he had never left the Vale without his father with him, Lawrence himself having not leaving home since his trip with his father to Essos those many years ago. Four of their house guards rode behind the two of them, something Lawrence expressed to his father that they were unnecessary, stating that he could protect his sister and himself just fine, but Vincent Corbray insisted on it, and Lawrence knew better than to try to argue with him on such matters. Lawrence sat there, his posture high as he needed to remember that there was somebody else on the back of his horse, his hands loosely gripping the reigns and his body clad in his own personal set of heavy plate armor, standard issue of the knights of the Vale, only with his displaying his house sigil, argent three ravens volant sable, each clutching in their claws a heart gules. He was travelling rather light all things considered, leaving his ceremonial jousting armor behind in Heart’s Home as he had been informed that the Lord Paramount would not be allowing him to joust in this tourney. Lawrence was also only bringing a few of the Corbray’s castle-forged arming and longswords with him for this tournament. He had been hoping that his father Vincent would have allowed him to brandish Lady Forlorn at least to walk around with in King’s Landing, though he seems that father did not believe the time was right just yet to give his eldest son possession of the Corbray family’s most prized heirloom. He tilted his head around slightly back towards his sister, thanks to the plate’s thickness at times it was hard to tell if she was still back there, or if she had fallen off without him noticing.- “Don't worry Ali, this long trip of ours is almost over.” -He spoke softly over his shoulder as he turned back to the road, observing a number of road signs that were meant for travellers. The road signs, assuming no little guttersnipe or highwayman had changed them, said that the city was indeed close, and that the caravan would be able to reach within the day. As a bit of time passed, the trees long since clearing out as they continued riding slowly along, passing a number of small villages, finally seeing their destination far in the distance, the spires of the Great Sept of Baelor reaching up into the clouds.- “So this place is what all these poor sods keep fighting and dying over?”- Lawrence muttered to himself, carefully making sure that his sister behind him was unable to hear him as he spotted the Red Keep behind the Sept. Its pale red stone walls standing tall and strong, protecting the realm's most uncomfortable chair and he who sat upon it. It has seven massive drum-towers crowned with iron ramparts. Massive curtain walls surrounding the keep, with nests and crenelations for archers. Thick stone parapets, some four feet high, protected the outer edge of the wall ramparts, where the spikes ready for the heads of traitors sat between the crenels at the gatehouse. The great bronze gates glistening in the afternoon sun.- “You awake back there Ali? We’ve arrived at the capital.” -He spoke with a chuckle as he gave the reigns a little whip, his horse braying slightly and speeding up to a quick trot, the guardsmen following suit after them as they approached the gates of King’s Landing.-

ShayTuan: This wasn't the first time Alisanne rode a horse, but it was sure the first time riding one a long distance away from home. Alisanne has never been out of the Vale, growing up she has always been in the eye sights of her mother and father, and the people of Corbrey. The reasons simply being that she was young, and she had no reason to go to any other places as of now. Which is why she was so surprised when her father agreed to let Lawrence take her to Kings Landing. She supposed it was because her father trusted Lawrence with everything. He was the eldest boy after all, and who else was able enough to protect her than Vincent Corbrey's most praised son? Nobody that was for sure. This made Alisanne smile, it widening as she hears her brothers talking about approaching the gates of King's Landing. She quickly sat up straighter, to get a look at it. To her it was exciting, a new beginning. The start of her women-hood. Some would find that silly of course, but Alisanne didn't. How could you blame her? "I am awake as ever brother. The trip wasn't as bad as you said it was going to be," She spoke, loud enough so Lawrence can hear her. "I am still surprised father allowed you to take me." She said this, her eyes gazing adoringly at the at the bronze gates.

Executioner: A city, something that was not favored by Virok by any means. His attempts to get away from it and back into the woodlands fell short by the hand of a request, to watch over young Starks as they went on to meet the Baratheons. With very little desire to go to Kingslanding or south at all for that matter, he was put out of his comfort zone. To get his mind off the annoyance of his duty at hand, Virok tends to slip away from time to time and clear his head. His primitive mind tends to lead him away to eat drink or hunt, things of that nature. So being called to meet at a feast was something he deemed worthy of his time, although it would be best to put on the face of a man with reason. His venture lead him back into the city, away from the trees and tall grass. The silence that was more sweet than an elagant moan. The wind that calms nerves and cools the hot timbers in the body.. That place is where he wanted to be. But instead, he ventured away into the city where clamour of constant voices; thieves and beggers. Merchants screaming to take your money an bodies in every direction. Virok was not a tall man, but wide in shoulder length. His most noticable feature would be a brown bear hanging off his back; which is a wonder he did not get shot at himself while in the woodlands; a risk no smart hunter would take alone. The bear pushed his weight through the crowd of people to brush out and meet the clearing. The bear's back seemed wider than his shoulders due to the wooden shield strapped to his lats and shoulders, a reason he was constantly gripping the leather belt wrapped slanted from his right shoulder down below his left lat muscle. He was curious who was going to be there, it had been a while since he had talked to anyone in the south. He was never fond of conversations of politics, here in the south that is usually what the conversation was about. His approach toward the inn was slow, studded leather boots with fur trimming thuded against the dirt below as it came to a slight hault as a thick fingered hand pushed open the door of the inn and allowed him to step inside before closing the door behind him. A building of constant chatter noise, truely irritating. His shoulders rotated forward and his bright green eyes glanced about the crowd for a spot that would be suitable. He spotted a table and approached it, dropping his weight onto the stool with a hefty thudd. Raising his hand to signal a woman over, he muttered softly with a scratchy voice; almost like he needed to clear his throat. -Virok- "Ale, chicken.. Please." The woman raised a brow and wandered away to assumingly go get the food and drink.

The woman returned, bringing a cup of ale and a plate of chicken; a whole chicken. Setting it down in front of the large man, she eyed him up. -Woman- "Just call me if you need anything else." Virok proceeded with a nod and picked up the ale to begin gulping it down as his eyes traveled from one side of the room to the other, glancing at faces and essentials and statures.

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Diitzy: Rhaenyrs Baratheon was born into this socializing lifestyle. One could think she could mingle through the nobles at ease. In fact it was actually harder said than done. Being a pirate for so many years, she lost her taste in the boring conversations. How dearly did she miss the fierce tales of legendary pirates. How rumors used to spread like wildfire across the lands and seas. Her favorite was of course was the notorious phantom Captain whom she served for, The Dreadful Captain, Straga. She worked under such a Captain for years and still has yet to see him in flesh. All she knew of the captain are the rumors of his orders, and the crew members who claimed to have spoken to him individually. She stared at yet another empty bottle of rum as she raised her bottle again, for the service lady to walk over and hand her another one. Not really sure which number this bottle would be. Of course like any pirate she could hold her liquor as she poured a third of the bottle into the bowl beside her elbow. Leaning over him a slouch whispering to her glorious babe, Scribbles, “As much as I enjoy being around my family again, I sure do miss the taverns we have seen, my lad”, Leaning further over face to face with the white and black dotted eye pig she kissed his nose happily. She scuffled to her feet as she stared at the bottle. Perhaps she was reminiscing on the last voyage she had with the crew. As it’s been days now since she last saw any of them. Looking at her reflection of how she changed in just a day, fully clothed from head to toe in a dazzling fancy dancey gown. “I look like lady again. When did that happen?” By this time it was sure that the alcohol did give her a slight buzz. She laughed and squeezed her pet scribbles. “We should continue to mingle. I’m sure we will find an interesting conversation somewhere. “ She walked around the table twirling a little from her happy steps.

GiaMaraDeScala: *Mirna Stark had been nervous and uneasy since they had arrived in King's Landing, having never left Winterfell since she was born this was the furthest from the protected walls of Winterfell. As she walked into the tavern, the smells of food and strong wine wafted up towards her nose. Mirna looked around and saw a pig, a very unusual animal to be in a tavern, alive. As Mirna's cool grey eyes took in the sights of the tavern her mind had started to race as she and nerves start as she reality set in. Mirna was long away from home surrounded by mostly strangers. Her plump lips pursed as she thought of mingling with nobles she may have met when she was just a baby or a small child clinging to her mother's skirts. Lost in thought she hadnt noticed that a sering maid had come up to her, she ushered her to a long table and as her stormy eyes fell on the table with the pig and the lovely lady sitting at it she instantly felt as she was still a child. The thought of sitting in close quaters to this young woman made her feel even more like a little girl. This had to have been of of the Baratheon's and that only made her nervous even more. Her guards had flanked her the way to the tavern but seemed to have gone off save for one. Her babysitter. As Mirna made her way to the table she got more and more nervous the closer the table got.*

Brute: Soon as the three other guards and Howland approached the Tavern in which their Lady would be spending some time, Howland himself motioned for the three behind him to stop off outside the building because only he would be escorting her inside. After the Lady Mirna found her way inside so did the dark haired and mossy eyed guard, either sides of his tunic on the arms and a single place above his heart on the tunic sat embroidered dire wolf’s head which showed his allegiance to the Great House Stark. He paused for a few seconds behind the young Lady as he watched her scanning the room, that was until a serving maid pointed out the reserved table that more than likely the Lady Baratheon had procured for their own private feast. With each step Mirna took Howland closed to gap, as she edged closer and closer towards the table he stayed at her back until he saw fit to step towards the wall of the tavern and take up his position there, steady as ever and systematically looking around the room while making notes of every barmaid, servant and person who got within ten steps of the reserved table.

Macha: A tavern in close proximity to the gates of the Red Keep kept steady business during festival times; those times had been few and far between since the reign of the cockle king. He was not one for merriment or festival an easy notion to be glazed over with the new influx of patrons whose coin purses were being robbed in every which way. Intoxicating liquids were spilled all about, animals slaughtered in greater abundance than had been in years. It was all enough for the poor folk to forget the madness. Ideal circumstances had returned to the tavern bolstered by the appearance of a raven haired woman with a commanding tone. Her mere presence gave pause to the facilities of the place; dark hair, bright frightening eyes, dark make up and a stern features until she spread coin like butter. Appearances lacked paused when coin was present. The ugliest of creatures could find adoration and appeasement with enough coin floated upon the poor and disenfranchised. Commanded by her father, a young woman with strawberry blonde hair and several other maids of the establishment were sent to fill every need of the woman and her guests, of which she brought many. Diligent in her duty, the girl whisked away each bottle of preferred alcohol as they emptied and replaced them, one in particular that of another dark haired girl with a thick scarf covering small features. Her drink was rum. As she moved down the long table, the girl, paused before a shaken noble girl with grey eyes,” A drink M’lady? Sweet wine to calm your nerves?” The offered beverage poured before response,”You ain’t got no need to worry, that strapp’d guard ‘hind you will keep you delicate that’s for sure.”

Diitzy: “This rum is the best rum ever! Thank you very much and Pleeaaassee Keep it coming!” She proclaimed to the lady serving her beverage. Of course, every rum is the best rum to Rhaenyrs. Listening in to the lady she perked her eyes up to gaze at the poor shook up female down the table. Her face held several scars that slashed through her abnormally bright blue eyes as they fixated on the young lady’s. “You are familiar. I think I might know you” She pointed to Lady Mirna. She continued to point at the lady as she used it as a compass to stumble through the chairs crawling on each one till she found herself sitting right next to Lady Mirna. Her smile couldn’t be seen from underneath the long torn up blue scarf. She lowered her hands back to hold the bottle that she clinged onto for dear life. “You. You are..hmm” She tapped her chin with the opened bottle as she pondered the very thought. The alcohol didn’t help at all. As she glanced at the guard who escorted Lady Mirna. Upon his held the symbol of the Great House Stark. She took several glances between the two individuals and finally connected the dots to her faded memories of her past. “We were children last time we met. I don’t even think you could speak at the time. Maybe you could. You were in ways a lot like myself clinging to your mother’s hip.” She nodded and took another swig. “You are Lady Mirna Stark!”. She clapped her bottle to her hands applauding to her own correct answer. “The only daughter to the stark family” She giggled as she placed her hand to herself. “It’s me! Rhaenyrs Baratheon! You probably don’t remember me. I know I’ve been missing for years. Seems like everyone believed I was dead. But Nope I’m alive and kicking. At least I think so.” She paused for a moment as she tapped the table to her side having Scribbles leap up on the table sitting right next to her elbow. “My my.. How you have blossomed. You are about to be taller than me.” She blinked and lifted her hand to the tip of her head without touching her as she measured to compare their heights. With a little regard to personal space as she was over amused with excitement of seeing a long time familiar face from her childhood.

GiaMaraDeScala: *Turning her head to the woman that offered her some sweet wine, Mirna felt a sudden blush to her cheeks and looked over towards Howland who was already taking his place watching the people coming and going, her grey eyes moved back to the strawberry blonde and gave her a nervous smile. "Are my nerves that obvious? Thank you." tucking her long dark brown hair behind her ear as she started to make her way to an empty seat in front of the served sweet wine. Mirna wasnt much of a drinker, she would have to be cautious and babysit this one cup of wine like Howland was babysitting her. Mirna startled just as her small hand touched the back of the chair when she heard a voice explode from down the table. Turning her head side to side thinking she wasnt the one that was being pointed at, she swallowed hard and her nerves sky rockting now as the woman made her way down towards her. Mirna watched as she tried to recall memories as she tapped her chin. Holding back a giggle as her lips started to turn into a smile as she watched the woman. Thinking to herself, "Yes, babysit your drink and only have half of the cup." Mirna curtsied as the woman guessed her name and nodded. "You guess correctly my lady." Mirna tilting her head as she took a guess at which Baratheon sister she was meeting. But giving the information of the thought of being dead she knew right away. "Pleasure to meet you Lady Rhaenyrs. I was still not speaking when we last had seen each other and yes still on my mothers hip." Chuckling softly as she measured their heights and moved into her personal bubble space. Once she stopped she took a seat next to her and lifted her cup to her lips and took a tiny sip and tried not to make a face when she tasted the sweet wine. " I am glad you are no longer missing or thought dead. Your family must have been relieved once you came home." *

Macha: “You got a look ‘bout you like a rabbit in a wolf den. Ain’t you supposed to be the wolf?” The girl couldn’t read or write but her eyes were keen as she nodded to the fancy embroideries on her guard’s tunic. It took only the incoming of another voice for the girl to understand the necessity of her presence was no longer that. Being just friendly enough to earn her own tips over the loaded paycheck to come from this grand feast, she flashed a closed lipped smile, swept the tray of empty bottles form the table and was on her way with a curtsy. More rum would find its way upon the table. Keeping all patrons happy would be the bulk of her job for the night. As libations flowed like cool springs from patron to patron keeping her skirts down and her virtue would soon become a task she was not unfamiliar with.

Diitzy: “Nerves you say? Tsk tsk. Here this will take a load off” with the swish of her fingers left to right, she pulled two empty-clean looking glasses from the opposite side of the table. She poured some rum in one of the glasses. Paying no attention to the other glass she raised the bottle. “Cheers to reuniting!” She smiled as she heard her pig squeal as she turned to him and poured into the other glass. “Oie, sorry little mate. Cheers to you for being you Scribbles. You know I love you to the bittersweet end” She chuckled and took yet another chug to her bottle. Hearing the Lady’s comment to her family she nodded and briefly responded. “I didn’t even know they were here attending the festivities. In fact my paths sorta clashed with my sister Lady Rhaelle. We are certainly enjoying being together again. It’s quite exciting. Coming back from the dead.” She chuckled to the rumor of her being dead. Little did they know she’s been a pirate this whole time. She emptied the bottle as she clapped rejoicing to the lady who served more rum to them. “Mmm Wonderful! Just wonderful.” She pulled out her coin bag as she gave several pieces of gold to the woman tipping her for her continuous service. “So tell me! How is the North? Is it still like when we were children? Tell me everything! It’s been so long. “ In mid conversation she turned back to her pig as he caught her eye with admiration again. “Oh look at him. Isn’t he precious? Would you believe that people want to eat something that adorable? Just..heartbreaking” She trembled as she picked him up by his two front hoofs and swayed him back and forth twirling him on the table as she swayed with him. “Isn’t he such a good dancer? He’s pretty much perfect at anything he does.” She praised as she giggled pushing his snout to her nose.

GiaMaraDeScala: *Giving a quick smile to the strawberry blonde as she made away with empty bottles of rum, with a quick glance around the long table she tried to take notice of others around her beside of Rhaenyrs and her cute pig that had made its way down to where she now sat. Biting her lower lip as she nodded slowly. "Yes. Nervous, I have...." Mirna watched as poured some rum into an empty cup, not wanting to be rude she picked up the cup and looking back to Howland as she brought the cup up to her lips and took a sip. Making a face like she just bit into a sour lemon cake, as she swallowed. Coughing a bit as she put the cup down on the table. "Never been away from Winterfell my lady. When I left it was it's usual. Cold and homely." She watched as she drank from the bottle itself and then pick up her little pig. She chuckled softly as she had it dance on the table. "Yes...very cute. You must watch him carefully so no one steals him to eat him." *she mindlessly reached for a cup and picked up the rum glass instead of the sweet wine and took another small sip, making yet another face. "I wasn't the one missing, you were. So you must have better stories than I would my lady." She gave a sweet innocent smile to her."I had heard many rumors that you were kidnapped and saved by a pirate or something like that." Mirna looked at her with great interest and didn't notice she had leaned in closer to her.*

Brute: For a few seconds while Lady Mirna spoke to the barmaid about her nervous feelings Howland had started searching the tables for those that he knew, when his mossy hues landed on the young Rhaenyrs he paused for a second, for even though the black hair and her unnaturally blue eyes matched the Baratheon look she was still a long ways away from standing at the height of her sister Rhaelle, but he figured that even Baratheon’s could be born on the smaller side of things too. His thoughts were all but confirmed as the Mirna and the Lady Baratheon started speaking, his ears kept to their conversation as much as he could and as both Rhaenyrs tipped the maiden who served them beverages while Mirna took what seemed to be her first taste of rum, Howland wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. Trying to hold back a moderate laugh at the site of young Mirna’s clear distaste of the strength of the rum, the Stark Guard stepped forward away from the wall of the Tavern and approached the barmaid who was just been gifted an almost lifetime supply of gold, least it would have been for a guard such as he or a tavern girl such as her. As he approached her his glove covered hand moved out and brushed against her shoulder, attempting to politely gather her attention for a second before he begun to speak. “ Miss, I think perhaps the Lady Baratheon gifted you in excess of what was originally intended. To save any form of confusion I’d caution you to keep a coin for yourself but respectfully hand her back the others.” At this point the guard that stood around 5’8 with dark of hair and mossy green eyes leaned in closer to the maiden as he spoke in a lighter tone so as only she would hear him. “I’ve witnessed many Lords and Ladies give out more than intended while being under the influence and many a time the blame is put onto those who receive the coin, I’m simply trying to stop that from occurring today.”

Macha: Without much thought on the matter, the maiden’s hand full palm slipped into the front of her apron depositing the tip on whim; she was not in the habit of counting her tips while in the midst of her duties. Caught in the conversation of other loitering men in armor, the barmaid remained in close enough proximity to be witness to the timid noble girl drinking rum in lieu of much tamer sweet wine. The goblet of wine was then whisked away lest the girl find herself stumbling home. Golden hues of her own set upon the center most bar of the establishment, the gentle brush of a gloved hand gave her pause; voice rewarded with her turn and closed lipped smile. Not so often was the tavern full of such rich patrons had the thought of overspending even crossed her simple mind but in truth after fishing out the coins they were all gold. Briefly, shock and fear disturbed her features but were just as quickly overtaken by her pleasant smile. “I have no true enough manner of thanks to you, Ser, but I can offer you a single drink on the house of your choosing for such a good deed you pay to lowly girl like m’self.” As she spoke, the excess of coin was replaced on the table near the dancing pig, motions of a thief and yet this she clearly was not.

PezDispens3r: -Lawrence chuckled as they made their way inside the gates and into the city, the bustling of thousands of smallfolk going about their days, there was an excitement in the air Lawrence could almost taste. It wasn’t often that the poor and disenfranchised were given a distraction from their grinding existences, it was times like these that they looked forward to. The 5 mounted men and the noble lady in tow made their way through the streets towards the Red Keep.- “Father knows that he can trust me to protect you, and if not, you always have this lot.” -He let go of the reigns with one hand and motioned his hand in a sweeping motion, pointing at the 4 Corbray guardsmen, prompting a chuckle out of all of them.- “That being said Ali, this place is not Heart’s Home, it isn't safe for a noble lady, and if I'm participating in this tournament then I can always be with you to watch your back. Father believed that you were old enough to come here, that means that you’re old enough for this as well.” -Hans reached into his pouch hanging from the side of his saddle, drawing out a small dagger, about 4 inches in length, thin and weighted so that if needed it could be thrown, a small engraving of the Corbray house sigil etched onto the side of the blade, a single small ruby set into the base of the hilt.- “Father had the smiths back at Heart’s Home make that for you for this journey, I suspect it’s one of the many reason he let you join me.” -Lawrence chuckled as he blew a little kiss to a few giggling smallfolk girls that watched the group of them enter the gates.- “He told me to give it to you when I thought the time was right…. So here you go, use it well.” -He flipped the dagger in his hand and lifted it over his shoulder, attempting to hand it to Alisanne by the handle- “The ruby is meant to remind you of our sigil, the hearts carried by the ravens, and also a bit about how blood is thicker than water, but i may be reading too far into it.” -As they continued a bit farther, entering the bit wealthier section of King’s Landing, Lawrence turned to his guards.- “Hector, ride off and find Lord Baelish, tell him of our arrival as soon as possible. Garland, see that my sister’s room in the guest houses have been prepared. Lewin, Delvan, you two win today’s game, you get to come drink with us” -He chuckled as the two guardsmen broke off from the group, reminding them to enjoy the free time but to stay out of trouble while wearing Corbray emblems. With Lawrence turning his horse in the direction of the tavern.-

ShayTuan: Alisanne was more than happy with the small 4 inched dagger Lawrence gave her, almost as excited as to being able to be out of Heart's Home. "Are you gonna teach me how to throw it, Law? I have terrible aim when it comes to such things." She said, a small frown on her face. She never touched a weapon before, let alone owned one. It wasn't truly lady like to have a weapon. She followed after her brother, making sure to look at her surroundings. The tavern looked ordinary, but she loved the looks of it. How it had so many different people in it. It made her smile a bit. Entering the Tavern, that smile grew bigger. The sound a music and laughter, Ladies dancing and mean drunk off their behinds made a small bit of laughter escape her lips. She hasn't been around a lot like this, either. A lot of firsts in this trip. "How long are we to be staying here, brother? I'd like to try at least one drink. You think mother would be mad?" She laughs, looking at him

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Biird: As the long tables were laid with food, Rhaelle threw her mass down on a tall backed chair reserved for the heads of tables. The chair’s back faced the wall shared by the front doors of the tavern and was in front of a window with the shutters half open. She shifted it slightly so the back was to the corner of the room and she could see down the table and out the door at its end when were people were going and coming from the back landing of tavern. She could also see the rest of the tavern clearly and most of the stage to her right. Leaning back in the chair, Rhaelle rocked back on two legs as her guards and most of her entourage gathered around the table; they opted to remain standing however, in case any of the nobles from the invited houses wished to sit near their lady. Served with the options of ale, wine, rum or whiskey, her men and women stole between ale and whiskey and began a drinking game near the corner of the stage. It wasn’t uncommon knowledge that the men and women in Rhaelle’s company fraternized. They openly flirted with one another and with drink involved the giggles and rude jokes would be aplenty.

Rhaegar latched onto this uncle like a monkey, until he was pulled away by his massive hand in a fit of giggles. “I could take you uncle!” He squealed, grabbing for Kainen’s face to head-butt him. Quickly though, Kainen was flanked by a gaggle of tavern girls prostrating trays of food and drink. A fair headed woman leading the pack found herself in his line of sight, holding the tray of roasted lamb under her breast as she spoke,”You must be the great Lord Baratheon. My,” She said eyeing him over,”You are great indeed. I do hope we can satisfy your appetites.” The girls behind her all broke into a blushing giggles prompting Rhaegar to raise a brow in confusion. He looked between his uncle and the woman then began to flail about. “Put me down, Uncle! Mother says when women speak in that tone it’s not a time or a place for children.”

Grimm: When Rhaegar gripped his face, Kainen moved his head in and when they both collided, the lumber male took a step backwards in mock pain which only caused the little Baratheon to giggle further. The flocking females that descended upon Kainen almost went unnoticed by the massive brute as he still had his focus zero'd in on his nephew, that and the fact they were all so short, as most people were when it came to most Baratheons, that Kainen usually blocked out most people's existence unless they held food. When the word fell from their lips however, he finally cast his gaze down at the spread of food they carried, although their words were ignored as his attention went back to his nephew whom he sat back down on the table with a slightly confused look on his face.

"Since when does your mother wish to keep you away from the topic of food?" Kainen looked across the room to where Rhaelle situated herself. It was often easy to figure out where she would be, never wanting anyone at her back and always wanting to see the entire room. Kainen on the other hand was far less tactful, normally sitting in the very center of the room and needing to be moved to the proper seat of his station by Greyson who was Kainen's wall at his back. "Well, better not make her mad." Kainen winked to Rhaegar as the boy giggled and ran off.

Watching Rhaegar scuttle across the table, Kainen opened his arms wide, to which the females all tried to gather closer, thinking he was going to scoop them all up and usher them to a more private corner. Instead, Kainen's arms enveloped most of the trays which he scooped from their tiny hands and moved to the closest seat, which of course, was in the middle of the long table and plopped himself down, immediately digging into the food. The barmaids and wenches blinked a few times, unsure what they were suppose to do next, but two of them returned to the Lord's side, wrapping their arms around his massive biceps and were almost lifted from the seat with each shovel of food Kainen consumed. Of course, to the massive male, their touch and added weight was almost unnoticed, along with their very presence, which only seemed to confused the females even more.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the table, Greyson almost chuckled as he watched the females trying to seduce his Lord, but that chuckle was followed by a sigh when he saw just where Kainen sat. In his hand Greyson held a moderate mug of ale, drinking it at a slow pace as his eyes roamed the faces of those present, even to his Lords sister as she perched in her corner and to her men that were far more carefree than even Greyson would care for, but in this location they were allowed to relax, no one had yet been foolish enough to attack the Baratheon's, especially Kainen and Rhaelle regardless of where they were located and never when the two were in the same area.

Brute: The modest sized, black haired and forest grey eyed male from the North shook his head lightly at the response from the maiden who had previously been serving drinks, her offered thanks of a drink on the house would have normally been welcomed though now was neither the time nor place to be drinking and having his focus on another that wasn’t Lady Mirna. “Seeing you unharmed is more than enough of a reward for me, but I thank you for the offer, Miss.”

Howland didn’t wait long before he turned and took up his spot again at the back of the table, pressed in against the wooden walls with his attentive eyes scanning the surroundings yet again, even if he had just been doing so previously what kind of guard or shield would he be if he wasn’t constantly keeping his eyes on everyone who entered, potential threat or not. As his view turned he couldn’t help but take note of the gaggle of females that had surrounded Lord Kainen, though after a few seconds of his attention turning to food they seemed to quiet down mostly but other than that they seemed rather curious as to the ways of the Lord; mainly his reason for paying them no attention.

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Brute: They had ridden hard and fast for a few days before they finally made it to King’s Landing and by a stroke of luck of perhaps very good timing on his mother’s part they had arrived by the darkness of night and the mass amounts of candles and street lamps lit the way through the city towards that of the Red Keep, their current destination. Ever since reaching the gates of the Capital they had slowed down their approach, each of Azaroth’s men fell behind him in a rather militarized fashion being that Ryke was at his back right and Orion at his back left hand side, from there the others fell in behind them and taking up the rear were the guards who had been assigned to him by his mother; all in all there were but ten men and a lady at his back.

Unlike a lot of the other times they rod, Titan was far less stubborn than usual, for the majority of the ride there he was perfectly calm and collect though it was probably due to the numerous amounts of apples Azaroth had been plying him with. As they broached further into the city and neared the Red Keep Azaroth pulled on the reins of the monstrous destrier and like all other times the men would have stopped at the same time, his eerily bright blue eyes narrowed to a few horses outside of a tavern and the golden embroidered stags on the side of the saddles and side satchels gave away that they were indeed Baratheon horses.

“Seems like we will be filling our stomachs with both food and drink sooner than we expected, gentlemen.”

Azaroth nodded to them all as he moved off of the mammoth horse, once again reaching into the side pack and giving him another bright red apple before wrapping his reins around the post with the other horses and tying him to it. He waited until the others were finished collecting their belongings and tying off their mounts, and when they were done he moved inside the building and let his view search for a few seconds until his eyes fell onto his behemoth of a brother and the black hair head of hair that was definitely his elder sisters. Upon approach the large young Lord brought his hand down on Rhaelle’s shoulder as he spoke, looking outwards at the rest of the table and eventually to the rest of the customers in the Tavern before he began to speak. “Do you see any unsightly fellows that you have your eyes upon, my dear sister…Or will you be waiting longer into the night before stealing their innocence?”

It wasn’t really a question he thought would be answered, but he knew his sister would be well aware of what he was talking about, her son after all had come from such an experience in a Tavern, and from what he gathered about the situation where he was created the father at hand was indeed prey to his sisters wants. Unlike the stories that went around about how the Lady Rhaelle had taken a lover from the Reach, a Knight above others in honor and looks, Azaroth knew better, he knew his sister and pretty Knights and self-serving honor did nothing to stir passion in her; at least from what he knew of her.

Executioner: The ride was long and tedious, as if the carriage ride from the Reach wasn't enough. It was almost torture to ride so far from one location to the other, not to mention the soreness that came over a mans pride when away from a saddle so long. But regardless, Orion stayed off to the side of his brother as per usual. Although he would be less interested in the road ahead and deep into the book he was staring into with periodical glances upward to make sure he did not ride off into the woods somewhere. Azaroth's voice provoked Orion to raise his head with a slight groan. Nature called Orion dearly, and the saddle was not aiding in any way. The talk of food and drink caused a slight mutter beneath his breath as he picked himself up off his mount, a big ugly horse. Watching his close friend feed his companion once again Orion scoffed rather sarcastically. -Orion- "You are aware that if you keep feeding him, you're going to make him fatter than he already is.. I think his ass is big enough, don't you?" He spoke in slight discomfort as he trailed behind his friend toward the door.

As he watched the his friend become more familiar with his blood, Orion stepped away; off into the shadow to brush a woman out the way. -Orion.- "Make way woman, a man needs to take a piss. It's life threatening." He grunted lightly, rushing off to the back.

Biird: Rhaelle remained in her chair, rocked back with her arms folded a mug of ale rested on her folded arms. It was her third cup and it was half empty. Her son had come and gone several times. He’d been very confused as to his uncle’s thoughts on food and women’s voices but quickly become occupied with something else. Her men and ladies, unlike most others from other noble homes were completely off duty, well with the exception of two whom were sent by her mother. There was no grey area to be found here. The men and women of Rhaelle’s entourage didn’t have to answer the Lady Mother of House Baratheon if anything happened to her daughter in the midst of a drunken haze. In fact, they did, however it would not be nearly as bad. They’d had a drink each at Rhaelle’s order but couldn’t risk anymore and the Beast of Storm’s End wouldn’t force them.

When her brother lay his hand on her shoulder, she didn’t move, though they leaned in a bit. His head was shaved, he was taller and a bit more filled out that anyone of them would have remembered, but it didn’t take more than a second for even they to realize who he was. Brushing off Azaroth’s hand, Rhaelle stood to face her brother, giving him a once over; she’d disregarded his statement. He was taller than her now, finally. “Brother. I am happy to see the Reach hasn’t made you more delicate.” Her eyes shifted behind him, gauging his company. Even amidst the commotion of the tavern, Rhaelle had been by an open window and the sound of carriages had long since stopped. His company had only consisted of horses.

Something sterner than her normally hard features took her face and her voice lost any warmth it might have had before. “Where is he?”

Brute: For a season it seemed like his sister was happy to see him, her comment about him not turning into a more delicate being made him smile for a second before he watched her features change, even though it wasn’t far off her normal look it was still rather noticeable to her brother. With the question that came next Azaroth shook his head and took in a step closer to her, closing the distance all that much more before he started speaking, his voice lowered so that with aided help of the boisterous crowd in the Tavern that only she would have been able to hear him. “Not with me, before he arrived something happened in the Reach, with a certain Tyrell and it brought about a rather…Odd complication when he arrived to claim her as his own.”

He stopped talking for a second, there wasn’t much else to say about the situation and even if there was, now wasn’t the time, but he knew she still wanted an answer as to where their cousin was but truthfully he had no answer or placement of said cousin. “I left the region that night and made my way home, it was not until I reached such walls that I was informed of what should have happened, and what reason there was for such a marriage to begin with.” Again, he didn’t tell too much or mention names, especially that of his cousin, but atleast for the two present in the conversation they would know what he spoke of and now that everything was out in the open with his sister, there was bound to be some repercussions of his actions and it was in that moment that he waited for it, be it head-butt, punch or a stern yelling at that would no doubt catch the attention of all.

Executioner: Coming off the relief of nature, Orion's urgency left and the demand for something to drink filled its place; ironically. He left the back, parting from the room and making his way down the hall. Blue eyes reflected the sight of many people crowded around a table, off to the side was Azaroth and his dear sister talking. Giving the space Orion deemed to be needed, he stayed off side and allowed Azaroth to reaquaint himself with his family members. Orion saw them as family probably just as much as Azaroth, but no blood was shared between them and Orion.

Biird: Well known Baratheon fury flickered across Rhaelle’s features. Her arms folded again to keep her from striking her brother out in public. She could only imagine what or who her brother had gotten into in order to make him rush from the Reach without staying with Dante as she had planned. Without Azaroth and by proxy the men who had accompanied him to the Reach, Dante had been left alone in a field of encroaching flowers.

Taking a deep breath, Rhaelle turned from Azaroth,”We’re leaving.” She said seemingly to no one. “Now.” Her entourage no matter how far spread down the length of the tables they may have been, gathered themselves quickly. Xara paid the tavern owner and gathered up Rhaegar into her arms. Her heart was breaking to leave her wonderful Ser Greyson, but she flashed him a beautiful smile, curtsied and went to her lady’s side dutifully. Rhaegar lept from his mother’s lady to his mother, eyeballing Azaroth. “Mother?”

“Rhaegar, this is your uncle Azaroth, my younger brother.” Rhaelle said, situating the child comfortably on her hip. Rhaegar looked between his mother and his uncle and though his mind was reeling with questions all he could say was,”It is sad that is may be the only time I get to see you, uncle.”

Executioner: Coming off the relief of nature, Orion's urgency left and the demand for something to drink filled its place; ironically. He left the back, parting from the room and making his way down the hall. Blue eyes reflected the sight of many people crowded around a table, off to the side was Azaroth and his dear sister talking. Giving the space Orion deemed to be needed, he stayed off side and allowed Azaroth to reaquaint himself with his family members. Orion saw them as family probably just as much as Azaroth, but no blood was shared between them and Orion. - He stayed out of the conversations being taken and instead turned his attention to the counter, speaking low as he caught the attention of the Inn keeper. -Orion.- "Something to drink, please.."-Inn Keeper.- "What will you have?" -Orion-"Water, wine, spit, as long as it's wet; I don't care." He placed his book down onto the counter after settling his weight onto a stool against the wall. The Inn Keeper would roll his eyes and place a goblet onto the counter before pouring the wine into it. - After opening the book, the young Selmy Lord would drop his gaze from his brother and gaze deeply into the page he left off from. No longer paying mind to the banter and clash of voices echoing through the Inn.

Brute: It didn’t take even seconds after he had finished speaking that Rhaelle had her people ready to go, while that was happening he watched her movements, waiting for the strike to come but none did, perhaps she was waiting till they were out of public eye before lashing out at him. As her men and ladies picked up their items and finished off the business within the Tavern a new boy lept from one lady to his sister, landing in her arms and on her hip as he spoke to her and she answered him in kind. His eyes fell to the young boy as his sister spoke and when she introduced him he nodded to the child, only to smile lightly as the kid went about contemplating the situation before speaking out loud. “You need not be sad, littlest Baratheon, we Stags are made of the strongest steel and even with another stomping on us, and we will no doubt survive.”

He words were a reflection of what he was feeling inside, he knew he’d be reprimanded by his sister, he knew it the second his mother had told him what was supposed to have happened and even though he had no clue of said plan, he should have known better than to leave Dante alone within the thorns; though he also knew his sister would let him live, even if it were just so she could remind him of his mistake in the future.

Turning his eyes passed to Orion by the bar and the others who were scattered out around the tavern, to Orion he would beacon his way in a motion for him to follow but to the others they knew a few would remain to drink while some would follow, especially those sent by his mother. As he eyed Orion he spoke, loud enough to get his voice across the room to him. “Drink up, it seems we are needed elsewhere.” With that Azaroth made way for the door, father’s sword swinging by his side as he made a move to untie his mountainous horse and would wait for his sister to come out before following.

Executioner: The sounds of voices scattered through out the tavern, and even with all the hollering and clattering around him. The distinct voice of Azaroth pierced his ears, Orion caught said words and peaked over his book with a focused glare. Something wrong? No, it was time to leave. An annoyed scoff blew from the pale lips of the Selmy Lord as the book was once again slammed shut. -Orion.- "Oh you cock su-" His low statment cut off as he pressed the cup to his lips and downed the wine. After he emptied the glass, he slammed the cup onto the counter and dropped the required payment along with it. Another disgruntled mutter. -Orion.- "As if my ass didn't hurt enough, noooo... Fucker." He spoke low under his breath so that mostly people around him as he passed through the crowed would probably hear.

He approached Azaroth, the book in his left hand and a wave of his right in a slight shrug. -Orion.- "Where are we going now, we but just got here?" He questioned, only curious now as to what was spoken between the two Stags. Maybe the sister was the cause of the swift departure. Maybe this was the reason they came here. Orion had little clue, but less than little was the only reason Orion needed to follow Azaroth.

Biird: Once more Rhaegar’s stormy grey eyes darted between his mother and his newly met uncle. It seemed to him that King’s Landing was the place to meet all the people he’d only ever heard stories off. Laying his head down on his mother’s shoulder, Rhaegar let his eyes sweep across the busy tavern. Maybe he would meet the man he always wanted to here. He could only hope.

Rhaelle held her son close to her as she moved past her brother and out of the tavern, her company in tow. They waited as he followed and bribed her elder brother’s massive horse in order to get him to do anything other than what he wanted. It was no wonder Kainen and Titan never became an item – share food? Kainen would sooner die. One of her men brought a horse, his horse, for her to mount with Rhaegar drifting off in her arms. Without putting him down or handing him off, even as he became the dead weight of a sleeping babe, Rhaelle pulled herself onto the horse and turned it toward the keep.

Beyond the gates of the keep, they dismounted and headed towards the Baratheon quarters just outside of Maegor’s Holdfast. Rhaelle’s doors were opened for her. Most of her ladies departed to their adjoining quarters. Her servants and chambermaids turned down her bed, and began to ready her sleeping clothes and usual tray of fruit and cheese and wine of which she partook every night before bed. Rhaelle lay her son down and dressed his half-awake form into his night clothes. She took her sweet time, forcing her brother to wait until the child with the dirty blond hair was safely tucked in.

Brute: He followed them as intended and even though each time they’d take a turn or even slightly divert the course he’d have to feed the horse another fresh apple it went rather smoothly. As they approached the keep and others fell off to their quarters so too did Azaroth turn and speak to Orion and those at his back. “Follow the servant and he will see you to your chambers, get some well-deserved rest.”

After he’d finished speaking to Orion and his other men Azaroth stayed behind and pressed further into his sister’s quarters, though he didn’t breach the point of her sleeping chambers but instead stayed outwards closer to the door, at this point the door was closed off and time ticked by as she made him wait…and wait he did.

By the time she would reappear from the room Azaroth’s form was pressed into one of the larger, comfier chairs, large ungloved calloused fingers played against the sword in his hand, dancing over the grip and the carved out stag head of the pommel.

Executioner: Getting little word in return which was unusual, Orion stayed fast and followed as requested. Tracing the steps of Azaroth as they made their way to their mounts once more. Orion straddled the large mule beast and rode on toward the large keep. He followed behind, now curiosity has struck in and it left him in wonder. What percisely was going on and what was being talked about in order to make Azaroth so direct and subtle.

He followed, regardless of his curiosity and chose to wait for a later time to ask his brewing questions. Heading into the keep not far after Azaroth where he would receive further direction. He made an attempt to gather more information, -Orion.- "Is everything..." Cut off by a quick statement after Azaroth's departure. -Orion.- "Alright..." He raised his slender blond brow and turned to follow the maiden to his room.

In the room, he would strip himself of his bow and quiver; placing it down onto a table with three arrows removed and place with the bow onto the table. The young lord waved all help and maids away, having no need of their presence and chose to do everything himself. He began unstrapping his leather chestpiece and peel it off his pale torso. After came bracers. He settled into the large chair not far from the table and threw his head back. -Orion.- "I wonder..." He spoke, thinking the events that took place over in his head.

---

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Brute: Azaroth rose in the morning mere minutes before his attendants appeared in his room with new choices of fresh clothing while others brought in food, crested eggs with basil, rosemary, potatoes and cheese along with some fresh bread had all been placed onto the tray before him, all of which he had requested the night before. As the young Lord sat at large table on a heavily cushioned chair he took in the meal before him, savouring the taste that brought back memories of week prior but knowing something was missing, the texture perhaps, the ingredients used or maybe even the order of which they were put into the dish; either way the morning meal only did so much to bring about the breakfast he was trying to recreate.

All thoughts that ran through his head worked their ways back to what he and his sister had been talking about some nights prior, even as the warm water fell from his body and fresh unscented soaps were applied to his being by his chambermaids, his sisters ruling of Dante needing men around him that he could trust, family that he could rely on to speak the truth above those would say just what the King wanted to hear. His eyes closed as more water was poured over his head, soft small hands lathered in more product against his almost none existent hair and finally around the stubble that had built up on his face; the latter to be quickly removed with a straight razor before bath time was over and the toweling down process begun.

After being dried off and left to his own accord to dress himself, at his own orders of course, the young Stag fitted himself out in his own particular style, although instead of dark brown tunic and matching pants with boots he now wore a darkened blue colour, yet still with gold embroidery on the shoulder pads and chest of his tunic. After wrapping the dark leather belt attached to his sword around his waist and tying it off he simply picked up weighted bag, tied it around the same position of his blade and moved out from his room where his more masculine attendants where already waiting; of course two extra daggers were already placed on his person in secure locations that he often changed up so that even the men at his side and back never knew exactly where he kept them hidden. Much like on his way to King’s Landing the people following him were few in numbers, other than his main six companions there were but an addition of four extra guards who had been sent with him by his mother, yet the small number of men at his back should definitely not be thought of as a relaxed guard or mediocre protection as each man was born of the Storm and even the lady who took up position at his rear was more than enough to handle whatever situations may come his way.

Unlike Azaroth his attendants had given up their weapons upon entering the Red Keep, they had been asked rather nicely to leave all leather belongings in the guard armory and as such that was their first destination of the morning before they left the Keep and headed off into the city itself. It didn’t take long for the men to grab their items and replace them onto their bodies; the majority wore castle-forged steel swords while a few others wielded long swords while one of the bunch insisted on carrying around a bow with a short sword and dagger to finish off his rogue like appearance.

Hours passed slowly as they moved around the city, every few corners and streets would bring about eyes from the guards who made sure to note just who it was that carried weapons so casually inside the walls of King’s Landing, after all unless you were from a higher up family who had sufficient standing the guards would be more than likely to request your weapon and have you pick it up upon leaving the City, such was their attempt at stopping random murders and robberies from happening in broad day light; but there was always one or two who flew under the radar.

Azaroth had been to a few rather fancy shops in the past few hours, the majority of which being filled with fancied jewelry that would make almost any lady buckle at the knees, some of the pieces he inspected where worth more than most would make in a lifetime and those pieces all had one thing in common; they reflected the sunlight into a more beautiful shine and each piece was said to be able to cut even the thickest of glass while being able to withstand large amounts of pressure without breaking. From what information he had gathered from the different shops he had visited there were a set of brothers who supplied almost all of the jewels in King’s Landing and perhaps even the other cities in Westeros and beyond; light laughs where present when their alias was spoken and when he heard that they were named the Toad Brothers, Azaroth had to wonder just what type of people these men were.

Finally the group that accompanied him had stopped off at the inn, the very same one he had met his sister and saw his elder brother devour all manner of foods in. The minute he entered the doors with his people the owner of the bar rushed forward in a manner that spoke to just how much money his sister had spent over the course of her stay in the city. The same table as before was empty and the owner did well to inform the Young Stag that it would remain so until the festivities was over and that there would always be a clean table available for any Baratheon or man thereof. With food served to his men the drink soon followed, however the second would be far from abundance, like his sister Azaroth didn’t have many qualms with drinking on the job or being one hundred percent stern and stoic at all times, though unlike her he did have harder limits on just how much enjoyment they would have when it came to alcohol; especially when the sun was still high in the sky.  

There was one more stop he had to make this day and that was to someone closer to home than most, his sister’s Lady, Xara Xaq. Although he couldn’t claim to have an abundance of knowledge when it came to the second of the summer sisters, he did know where they came from and even now could remember years past of stories about the Summer Isles and their fancy gems and expensive stones. He knew if there was someone that he could both trust in keeping things quiet and be able to confirm his thoughts on the matter; it would indeed be the sister of the Summer Witch.

Macha: Rana remained aside of the beaten path for most of the journey that had no true destination. She foraged for food and sleep high in trees or in small caves abandoned by their original inhabitants. She drank from fresh running stream and kept her times in town to the smaller villages, remaining alone even amongst the crowds. If the girl used a single coin from the remaining purse of her father, she had used quite a bit. A resourceful young woman, there was little she required that would lighten her purse.

Time within populated areas was severely limited due to the commodities carried on her person. Within her rucksack held the deeds and legal titles to her father’s land but much more difficult to hide was his sword. She would be pressed for the item by many as it was quite finely made and deemed of no use to a woman. Deputies of the little townships oft tried to con her out of the possession but that was a difficult task for one lacking in greed and foolishness. Others would try to pry it roughly from her, but Rana had the fighting instinct of a rabid dog which was enough to deter lower born brawlers.

The absence of the Lord of Nightsong in his keep upon her arrival gave her enough pause to wonder if she truly wanted to be rid of the land. With a gateway of nearly six months before taxes upon the property were due, there was a lengthy amount of time before she could truly be forced to deed the permanent fate of the farmland. Aside from Ryke, who was no in the company and employ of a noble, the other person to come upon the land with intent would have been the deputy to collect the taxes. The chances of anyone with the notion to report the absence of the house or the owner to the Lord of Nightsong coming upon the land prior to the deputy would have been slim to none and closer to none. For the time being, Rana conclude that her sentimentalities were stronger than she’d given them credit for and the deeds remained in her possession.

Meandering from place to place with no real destination in mind, Rana moved with the wind and found herself in amidst the common of the capital during this singularly focused Harvest Festival. The air about the landing was one of joy and festivities but only managed to be a thin veil for discomfort and suspicions. Traces those that would endure past the departure of visiting nobles, their companies and the many that followed the heightened gathering of coin to be stolen, won or earned, was easy enough indeed. Native commoners were struggling stave away thoughts of the retribution to be had at the hands of a king that did not give freely. Thus, crime had risen with the mistrust of the entire situation. Simply crossing the harbor from the kingsroad to the River Gate had been a task simplified only by the presentation of coin from one with the appearance of less than capable possession. Her form was then pushed and pulled and angled along The Hook road, moving with the gathering crowd and carriages, until she was able to break from the crowd and find some open space to breathe freely under the heavy wood sign of the King’s Crossing Tavern and Inn.

There would be far little options to forage for food within the walls of the capital and the high noon sun sync’d easily with her desire for food. Sweeping her hands down along her gold trimmed black robes, Rana stepped into the establishment pushing her hood from her head as she made her way to the bar. There would be a momentary pause before anyone would be available for the newest patron as the others were happily busy keeping the attentions of the men who cluttered the bar regaling of a noble woman whose company had not so long ago brought lively party to the place.


Brute: Fresh well cooked and seasoned food was placed in front of all in his group, accompanied by heavy beers that were soon used to flush down said food. As they ate the warriors sent by his mother talked amongst themselves for the most part, after all they had been a troop for years and were like brothers, as where his original guards and almost everyone else at the table. Conversations come and went about King’s Landing, from the larger of the men the topic of meat and lack thereof in his meal brought a laugh to the table; mainly because there was plenty on his plate but the man was from the Stormlands after all and one thing they had in abundance was meat. From bear meat to hares, goats to pigs and wild boar to wolves the Stormlands had them all in copiousness amounts; after all aside from the Wolf Wood up North they had the largest mass of forests in the Seven Kingdoms, not to mention the amount of animals that took shelter in, on and around the mountains.  

Azaroth waved over one of the barmaids and request another plate of food to be served; at that point anyone else at the table was also free to request more nourishment which a few of the warriors did not miss out on doing. Like his elder brother Azaroth had a voracious appetite for foods, as well as other things that were heavily touched upon during his time in the Reach. Though unlike the way he saw Kainen, he had no love of it, no care for it other than the fact that it fueled his form and kept him in fitting condition. Many times in the past The Young Stag Lord had seen just what lack of food could do to a man, those who sew the fields, worked the animals, beat steel till their brows were quenched in sweat and dark soot did so at varying levels but the highest was always when well feed and as such he would never see anyone go without; something that as he grew up racked his mind over and over again.

Mid swallow the Knighted Lord froze, all features on his face turned stoic and his posture stiffened to that of a statue. All but his eerily bright blue eyes halted in that moment yet they continued to dart back and forth, taking in the sight before him as if slow motion had taken over the scene. A fresh scene of fiery red hair made all of his sense stand to attention yet even more so his core turned to fire, the longer his survey of the woman continued the more a scowl of sorts formed on his features, something that wasn’t at all common for the Young Baratheon. Fiery red hair, check, freckles brushed across her cheeks and looking like they lined up to the bridge of her nose? Check. Hell even under the gold trimmed black robes she wore he could make out her the divine shape of her form, the curves that had him so enthralled upon their first and only meeting and the mounds that stolen away his attention through half of their conversations.

No, it wasn’t possible. It wasn’t like he had just said goodbye to this woman and they had met again at the hands of fate or some benevolent God who looked down upon the Stags. His ending with Rana had been an explosive one, one of certainty and absolute finality yet here was her doppelganger, standing there sweeping her hands down along her black robes. His blue unnatural orbs followed her strokes to the golden lines of her attire, enchantment or disbelief caused them to continue upwards until once again he was looking at her from the side, looking fixedly upon those features that both forced upon him too many feelings at once that all seemed to churn into what would be properly termed fury.

Azaroth pushed up from the table with little to no care of how his mass affected the chair at his rear, as such it slammed backwards against the wall, causing it to shatter into a pile now fit for the fires. His eyes were still focused on the woman, narrowed and locked on to the prey that had brought about these feelings inside of him; though she was far from any former prey he had seen before. Once again that nature of his took over, just like it had back in her farmhouse when he woke up that morning to find her cooking breakfast, his body moved of its own volition, nearing her without even noticing if she had heard the noise he had caused when he stood up. With each step he took towards her form blood quickened around his body, fury gathered in his centre and he could feel it burn as if trying to get out, needing to escape. Yet as he neared there was no stopping the involuntary reactions of both his hormones and feeling to her close proximity, the sweet scent of her skin made his blood burn and his mouth water. Before he could step himself, he found that he was probably all too close to her, for her own want anyway, rather than his own; the front of his body was very clearly pressed to her own and his head was tilted so far down that he could just as well have been looking at the floor. Each millisecond passed like hours in that moment, the words were rushing through his head at miles a second, his hands were clasped so tight his knuckles would begin to turn a bright fiery white and for anyone looking on wards they would probably assume he was trying to force lady backwards, pressing his form to hers as a means of strength or pressure to get her to move out of his way; but that was furthest from any truth.

“You…You died…We saw your house, we watched it burn…The door was forced open and the only thing inside living were the flames. How did you survive? Where have you been? Why…Why did you do it!?” his last words were much louder than the previous ones, his voice practically boomed thunder in that moment, and as the levels of his voice changed so too did the oddity of his accent. Few people had an accent like he did, words usually rolled of his tongue like they were coated in sugars or honey, that’s what happened when growing up one would frequent different places in the world, where many different accents, cultures and even views on the world and how it should work would seep into you and grow with time.

Macha: Finally a woman started to move down the bar in Rana’s general direction but a loud clattering sound caused her to pause wide-eyed. In the company of many other’s curious as to the source of the disturbances whether it be to preserve their own lives by fleeing a scene of violence or to further arouse it, head’s turned. Rana turned as well, knowing she would get no help from the woman behind the bar until the commotion quelled anyway. What she found as the source was a familiar Baratheon lord with a shaved head looping directly toward her. He carried the same determined, predatory gait he had the morning of their last encounter though the look in his eye was not so focused. Instead they were a storm of emotions none of which Rana would understand the source of until he spoke.

Each man and woman nearest the red head would give her and now this lord a wide berth as he crowded her space with such ferocity she was backed into the bar top and cornered. He could have struck or strangled her in that moment and not a single person would have stopped him. It was clear that he was a Baratheon lord, were it not for his looks it would be for his garb. No one would risk their necks for a woman whose crime they would have known nothing about, but Azaroth did not even attempt to touch her other than with the great staggered breathing of his frustration. Crowd or not, his looming presence was quite aggravating, prompting her to press her hands to this chest in an attempt to push him back as his questions rushed forward.

“Move away from me, beast.” She said flatly, her tone undisturbed by his own. The single statement gave them even more room to speak. The crowd, though curious, were all sure of her death now. “I’ve no course to explain myself to you while you speak to me as a man and not my liege. You were not harmed by my decision and the land is well and fit to be tilled as it was when I left.”


Brute: Even now in the heat of the moment and with her pressed against him, with her darkened dress hugging her figure and fiery red hair coaxing his wants and needs he could feel eyes on him, many e yes from many different directions all moving between he and the woman before him. Before she even spoke a single word her hands moved up to press against his chest, both creating some space between them and then in an effort to push him backwards away from her, yet his form remained there unmoved by her actions. Words soon followed her movements and as she spoke collective gasps echoed in the tavern, not only had she placed her hands onto the young Baratheon but she had a mind to call him a beast; no that would not do, after all that was his sisters moniker.

Her tone caught the attention of every patron in the tavern, whereas once their eyes were firmly attached to the Lord to see his reaction now they were placed upon the Lady in front of him who clearly cared none of the impending doom that could befall her for such simple things. Her further statements caused a turn in his stomach, maybe it made no sense to her but to say he was not harmed by her decision and then to go on about the lands caused another uproar of fury in the Stag, so much so that he reached out and gripped the bar top at her side, large gloved fingers pinched down hard on the wooden top and as steam almost drew from his mouth as he spoke his grip tightened, even in such a feral state he wouldn’t harm her, he could never be that far gone; but Gods would have to bless the bar top by the time he was done with it.

“Not harmed? NOT HARMED? We thought you dead. I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD. And I give no fucks about your land or how well it can be tilled, if that was your plan all along you could have said something, you could have gone about it another way. You selfish girl!”

Azaroth may have looked older by way of his form and mass, but even then he wasn’t sure if he was indeed older than Rana and even if he was it wouldn’t have been by many years. For him to call her out as a selfish girl was rather amusing and probably would have been to anyone who knew the Young Stag well, after all he was just stepping into adulthood himself.

Macha: It was not surprising that her attempt to move him out of her personal space so effortlessly failed. After all, he dwarfed her and many men in not only in the tavern but in the city. Yet, through all of his actions he inspired no fear at least not to the woman whom had his full attention. There was nothing menacing or malicious wafting from his form despite the tumultuous roil of emotions passing over his features while her own remained unchanged. Her hands remained upon his chest continuing to give what little space he would relent.

She was not unaware of the source of his outburst and in truth suspected she might have been more aware of his motives than he. The first rebuttal to pass her lips had been a thinly veiled attempt to brush past his obvious attraction to her. Rana was not without her wiles or her feminine mind. It was not lost on her that his body trembled with need or his eyes bore lust and want. The young Baratheon was not unattractive. He carried the same raw appeal as some caged wild animal alongside his more obvious physical traits. It would have been a lie to say she was not flattered by his reaction to her supposed death and in truth it had never been her intention for him to think her such, or think of her again. To find that he had not only been thinking of her but mourning her was indeed flattering. However it changed nothing. He was a lord and she a commoner, allowing these minor moments of flattering and attraction to breed hopes and wants was a fool's errand.

So unaware of his own fixation was he that he could not even relent the conversation. At this point he reached around her, locking her in the circled muscle of his arms as he gripped the counter behind her. If the wood could have cried out in pain it would have. His words continued to tumble forth, voice rising with his anger and yet... a smile broke her features. It was swiftly followed by laughter. Rana softened her press on his chest a moment before giving him a good hard push.

"Oh you stupid boy." She replied shaking her head. "Give me space and calm yourself. Once more, I do not and have not owed you a single thing since our first encounter. I did not owe you an explanation of my situation then and I do not now. My choices were my own and so long as they did not damage what is right and truly yours, as I am not, move. I will be leaving now."

There would be so surprise as the the amount of hanging jaws and shocked visages filled the room in that moment. They all thought her mad speaking to a noble in this manner. What other explanation could there have been for a low born girl with no name to address a man of stature with such insolence? A rather simple one in fact. To Rana, a man was a man. Some men had means, some men were cruel and some were not. Some men lived on the coat tails of their station and their title and others did not. No matter the situation, the girl had been raised by a man who bent a knee to his lord out of choice and bred his offspring never bend to anything less. She did not live in some fantasy world where her actions had no consequence it was simply that she had considered these consequences and resolved to bare them should they arise.  


Brute: As her smile moved her lips and sat on her features soon followed by laughter from her, Azaroth knew not what to do with himself. Even in the midst of laughing she pushed him with enough force to send him back a single step, but he soon caught himself and held on well to the bar top. It was surprising to say the least she had even managed to move the mountain of a man,  even though he wasn’t fully matured yet, even if he still had some growing and filling out to do before his adult years were set in, the Young Stag still stood above almost every other man he knew, save from his cousin and elder brother so for her to have moved him in even the slightest was just a show of how much she wished for his presence to be distanced from her own.

Even in the moment he was sent back he didn’t know what to do with himself, her smile had caught him off guard, her laughter had brought about a new reaction in his core and when she finally started speaking he had managed to regain some semblance of his mind. There she went again with her logic and common sense, something Azaroth at this point and time hated, though if being honest with himself it was a rather endearing trait of hers; one of many. He gave no care to the looks that would plastered upon the faces of those still watching, and there weren’t many that would miss the opportunity to see how this spat would turn out, some would say light prayers for the girl but others, probably the majority of people would wait and delight in the punishments to come, to scalding or canning, the gallows or the stones; most people loved that kind of thing until it approached their own doors.

Once again her words ran through his mind like a stormy sea, the logical part of his brain knew she was right, but that other part, the part that was more animal than man, the piece of himself that he had personally locked away to stay away from fury and anger wanted to reach out and grab her, to hold her and tell her to be quiet in that moment, that all he really cared about was that she was actually alive and not dead like he had thought; but no words came, perhaps his feelings would show through his bright blue orbs though. Shaking his head to clear away any thoughts of letting her leave as to her last statement, Azaroth denied it, and he hated the idea of her presence vanishing yet again. No, this would not go down like the last time, he wouldn’t walk away from her like he had at her farm house, he wouldn’t be forced to watch another building burn and wither because she was absent from it.

No real thoughts took place in his head as he moved on instinct, bending at the waist and his hand that previously gripped the bar, his right hand, wrapped around her form and lifted her from the floor, hoisting her over his shoulder in one fell swoop, only to wrap around even more to keep her firmly in place as he moved towards the stairs watched closely as he stepped up them, any attacks from her person, be it punches or kicks, knees to the chest or even biting if she felt so inclined would be met with no remarks or actions, after all the thick leather of his clothes along with his practiced body was enough to hold out on some damage; unless the fiery redhead got inventive then he would be in for some pain.

Azaroth didn’t stop moving till he opened a room on the third floor of the inn, like most other taverns the their top floor was reserved for the larger rooms for the more wealthier clients, and since it was clear who was now occupying the room there would be no interruption and any payment that need be made in his stead would be done so by his men. After the door was closed over and she was placed down on the opposite ends of the room away from it, The Young Stag once again closed in on her form, this time he had no words to speak, no thoughts of doing anything else but the actions he did in that moment. His hand passed up to her face, thumb brushing over her chin as he took her face within his grasp, fingers trailing over her cheek though padded glove and he moved his form in even closer till his lips met with her own; brushing over the same cherry red smackers that had smiled not so long ago and also let out that oddly wonderful laugh even if it was aimed at him, he didn’t care.

Macha: A moment’s reprieve from his smoldering presence was soon snuffed out by his rabid antics. Rana released a growl of annoyance, her hand sweeping around to grip the sword wrapped in burlap as she was so unceremoniously tossed over his shoulder and carried upstairs. The farm girl did not put a fight; she was simply happy to have been quick about her wits and retrieved her father’s sword before being carried away. She was not, however happy about being carried away or the looks of horror and smug satisfaction at her perceived punishment. Planting her elbow uncomfortably into the back of his shoulder, Rana simply waited to be set upon her feet once more, wherever that might be.

The Baratheon Lord took up residence in an empty room and shut them in tactfully placing her far from the door and his massive form between them. Impudently, she pushed the hood from her head once more as it had fallen over her features while being upside down. It was the only moment of solitude she would be given, for as she brushed wayward tendrils of hair from her face, another set of hands would join. His gloved fingers came upon her features with a tenderness that did not match his prior ferocity. The young stag was rewarded with her cooperation out of sheer surprise giving her but a moment's notice before his lips found her own. The moment had not been long enough for the girl to process exactly his intent. Rana had never been kissed before save the chaste kisses of admiration and love bestowed upon her by her parents and siblings. There had been prior attempts, all of which came with the usual flirtations leaving well and prepared to move away.

Reflexively, her hand gripped the wrapped sword in her hand harder. Only burlap saved her alabaster skin from running red. Soon, however, the tension of surprise ran from her body leaving only limp refusal. Logically this could not happen. There could never be anything between them and to nurture any idea to the contrary was a path to pain she could not bare. It was easier to be alone. There had been months of preparation on the matter, stealing her heart away, secluding both emotions and mind from thoughts of any sort of grandeur. Love, even passion as it's base level was afforded to rich wives secure in their place and whores; neither of which presented Rana with much desire or opportunity to become. Yet, despite her better judgments on the matter, the girl found herself sinking into his kiss. Her free hand, completely disregarding the internal stance on the allotment of passion, reached for his features in turn, drawing herself deeper into the madness; madness was all it could be.

Minutes, though they passed with the speed of years, later Rana freed herself of his grasp and his kiss, stretching her hand from his face to his chest, keeping at least that arms length, which would do her no good should he reach for her, away. "Stop. We cannot. Whatever ideas you have of this you must cease them immediately. I am not mistress or a tart to be taken at your leisure. Whatever fascination you have with me, you would do well to place upon someone more available."


Brute: The anger that had been boiled up inside his person seemed to turn to steam in the minutes that passed where his lips touched hers, his thumb even though it could not feel her soft pale skin still brushed lightly against her cheek as his other fingers sat at the side of her head almost holding in place for the duration of the event. Azaroth’s form softened as the seconds that felt like hours ticked by; well all but one part of his person. Even now in the midst of kissing her, in the thrall of her scent, taste, and finally the addition of her touch when she placed her hand to his face like he had hers, it still took him a few moments to realise why he had made such a fuss at her cottage, why he had been so annoyed when she dismissed him time and time again and eventually why he was rather defeated after watching her home go up in flames with the thought that she was within the walls.

Finally the kiss came to an end by the motions that the redhead goddess made, in breaking off the kiss she also took the opportunity to press her hand out once more against his chest and keep him at arm’s length from her body. Whether or not this movement of hers was to have her own space back for a moment to keep his hands and lips to himself, was yet to be seen; though a few of his questions would be answered rather quickly as she started speaking, her first word saying it all with the accompanied sentences just adding reasons to why this couldn’t happen again.

He made no attempt to breach her personal bubble this time, he was rather content where he was for the moment and the added benefit of her hand still pressed against his chest for some odd reason was still more comfort than not. What she said he couldn’t argue, she was neither whore, mistress or anything in between, though as her words echoed around in his mind his tongue played out against his own lips, tasting her still upon them and in that moment along with the previous minutes of their kiss; her reasoning meant nothing. All of his life Azaroth had an advantage when it came to almost everything there was, when he wanted to learn about wars and battle the best teachers around were given to him, when he showed interest in training with the sword his family had did their all to send him off to the Reach, even in his younger years when he felt like no matter what he did he was outshined by his elder brother, Rhaelle had taught him to rise above it and to make sure the man he ever competed with was himself. Yet now it seemed all of that was for naught, instead of aiding him in what his heart wanted it was precisely this privilege and station he had that would keep her from him.

“Whatever fascination I have with you, I can assure would never transfer to anyone else. If you really wish for me to leave you alone and forget about you then tell me that you do not want this because of the man I am or even for the man I am not; but if your reasoning’s are the titles I hold or the blood that flows through my veins then I cannot, and will not accept your idea of placing my feelings elsewhere.”

As he spoke the Young Baratheon moved his hand towards his own torso, his gloves had already been pulled off his hand and now his calloused hand covered her own that was pressing into his chest, to feel his hand on top of hers was a similar feeling that her lips had given him, only without the added heat or instant passion that they had ignited within him. His thoughts on why Rana acted the way she did and said the things she said all seemed to fall down to the way she would be viewed by others or the station she would have if she were to be with him. Things that should have sunken into the Lord’s mind hadn’t yet breached his thoughts while other reasoning’s seemed to come into his wonders about her. “Mistress? Tart? As much as I would like to be taken by you as it so pleases you or to take you at my leisure as you said, I would never view you as anything else but my own.” Ownership, yes this was definetly the right way to go about convincing a strong headed woman to be with him, though his view on the meaning probably extended far beyond that of which she or many other people may imagine, how it came across was at the end of the day whichever say she would see it.

“People judge and label each and every one of us, my sister has more resolve and a better mind than anyone I know, including myself and yet there are those who speak ill of her when her back is turned. My nephew who had no choice in how or to whom he was born is seen as lesser for something he never had a say in, yet I can tell you the amount of times someone has had the guts to speak ill of any of my family in front of them and I can assure you that number is almost none existent. Whether I am a Lord or not, whether you had a higher station or were Queen of the Seven Kingdoms people will think of you what they will and nothing will ever change or stop that, all I can say I what and how I think of you and when I do neither of those labels come to mind.”

Macha: Heat swept across her hand, the rough pads of his unrefined fingers wielding a powerful heat behind them; the sensation deeper than that of just personal body temperature. Rana slipped her hand free from under his own and took another step back. Behind her form was a small desk which her backside signalled had stolen any further opportunity for distance. It did, however, come with the availability of a flat surface upon which she rested her father’s sword, keeping her hand upon it.

“You are quite naïve or perhaps it is just that you are a man and a noble one at that. I am not a man, I am not noble. The opportunities afforded to me are of those I created with what little control of my own fate that I have. I will not burn the bridge of opportunity by attaching my person to yours in any manner of the sense. I require something permanent and stable in my life and that you could never be. Like your mother and sister, I care little for the whispered words of others. My care extends just far enough to be aware that should whispers spread too far or become too knowledgeable that they may be seen as fact what little options I have will be dwindled further.”

Giving pause to her speech, Rana let her eyes fall to the dusted floor between them,”My intention was not to twist your heart with my actions. For that I am truly sorry.”

Brute: Azaroth’s fingers pressed together as heat left his body, brushing over his own skin he tried to recreate the feeling of her there but nothing came of it, as the situation died down so too did the increased emotions that controlled him so easily in those kind of moments. He watched her walk back enough that she was basically sitting on the writing desk at her rear, with the sword in her hand placed at her side on the desk his storm blue eyes narrowed to it as she started her retort to his words. Even though he was currently looking at the sword her words still found their way to him and he took note of them all, slight changes in his features would have taken place until she finished speaking only for his view to be brought back to her just as her own eyes fell to the floor and she finished off by clearing up her intentions or lack thereof.

He stepped forward in a manner opposite to the way he approached her before, it would be easy to tell from the steps he made, the posture of his body and even the lack of intent or pressure coming from him; almost as if a different man stood before her at this moment. As he moved he freed his left hand from the glove and tossed both to the side so they landed on the large bed that would have still been rather awkward for him to sleep in. Now that his hands were free of the gloves certain details could be made out of them, the first being that they clearly weren’t hands of a noble, from the tip of his fingers to his palms Azaroth’s hand had small cuts and bumps lining them, time had been that his hands remained clear of any marks even when training with the sword though after a certain situation he had come to realise the importance of training without gloves on. Another new feature without the gloves covering things up would be the rings he wore, though not as many as some he had three across both hands. On his right index finger was a gold sovereign ring that held the Sigil of House Baratheon, under which Azaroth Baratheon was engraved. Further down that hand on his rather large little finger was another lavish gold ring but this one held a rather different look to it, one of a large shield with a sword down the centre, it signified his connection to the Knightly Brotherhood. On his opposite hand sat on his middle finger was a ring that almost outshines both on the right hand side, a gold stag’s head with narrowed antlers, still growing and clearly not yet full matured. Unlike the other two rings that still held importance with the Young Lord this one was of a different value, due to it being a gift from his eldest sister, and the reason that aside from certain differences it matched the one she wore rather often.

“I do not recall a single time where it seemed like your intention was to twist my heart, yet that seems to be exactly what has happened. I would be lying if I said I understood it, because I do not, and perhaps that is the worst of it all.” Azaroth’s words were honest and his tone was rather different from before, much like his walk, posture and even the look in his bright blue eyes as they came to fall upon the frame of her face.

He would have to think over her words, for his mind wasn’t working at the moment, it was all he could do to answer her final sentence so to try and figure out the meaning of her fate and having a stable life was something he would most certainly have to focus hours upon, after all even within his personal bank he had enough coin to last ten well off lifetimes; what more stability did she need?

His hand moved out, the tips of his rough pads brushing against the hilt of the sword she still held within her grasp. “Your father’s sword I take it? Was he a warrior of the Stormlands? A guard perhaps?” There was no prior knowledge that would even bring Azaroth to think that her father was anything higher up than a guard or well-worn warrior, perhaps he was even like Ryke in the sense that he was a mercenary, but that word usually held negative meaning so he would strike that from the question as he queried further into her life, in the slight chance that she would reveal something to him in the softened moment.