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enthroneds · 4 years ago

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◜ ┈ 🔪 DARK WINGS, DARK WORDS.

* ── [ archie renaux , genderfluid , he/they . ] : in the frays of king aerys iii's reign , therein remains ylan martell , the 25 year old prince of dorne . rumor has it that their loyalties lie with house dorne and they are neutral to the targaryen reign . they're so brazen + entertaining that it makes sense , but most seem to look past their mercurial + haunted nature . when they come up in conversation , i'm always reminded of swathes of silk shadowing the plaza, party favours melting into dusk, the loneliness of a bargaining coin.

◜ ┈ 🔪 HISTORY.

The time-honoured story of an heir arriving too late & too soon for his slice of glory. With no claim and no spectacular circumstances around his name, Ylan’s birth was not so much star-crossed as star-slighted. Dorne had no auguries and auspices for his becoming. If it mattered, it only mattered for chronicles and chamberlains. This is a lesson as old as the sun: there is nothing memorable about being the second best. But there is something privileged to it.

In every other way, he was a repetition of an act already applauded. His childhood had all the comforts of a spare - luxuries reserved for an heir in the wings, a piece saved for the worst. He picked his friends by hand, chosen from petty nobility & former dynasties alike, depending on who impressed. He challenged them, and fought them, and even loved a few. He basked in the golden warmth of the palace at dawn, and watched the desert lights pour from the north at night. He skipped some lessons, and savored others. He watched the dance of the snakes. He thinks he must’ve enjoyed all this, at times. It was hard to tell, after what came after.

Years before he would come of age, conflict began to spread through the land. Like a fuse headed for the powder keg, rebellion and secession rose up from the dunes. Westeros, it turned out, was still a powder keg. The past decades of a peace did nothing to change its nature - maybe the nature of all the Known World, since the First Men clashed with the Andals. His family seized on the potential danger. They were versed in disasters, the Martells. Too familiar with loss not to recognize its warning signs. To bargain for peace, they offered Ylan as a ward.

The wardship was not the trail by fire his parents might’ve expected. Perhaps it would have hardened a different person, someone carved from obstinacy and steel, but Ylan had never been forged from raw strength. They had the Martell way: vanity, subterfuge, the long game of the wait. The decision to be thrown headlong into the rush of events was sudden and inexplicable, and instead of making them feel like a valuable member, it only left Ylan alienated and displaced. They suspected it was their own fault; some shortcoming they missed, some hidden fault. Why else should they have been chosen as a pawn, instead of their siblings, or some minor cousin twice-removed? Over time, guilt became blame, and blame turned into resentment.

His wardship was not a pleasant thing; it was not brutal, either, but rather laced with poison and solitude, with questions without answers and habits he could not learn. In time, even this passed. He made a name for himself away from home, curring favour from foreign houses. He was known as a prince brash and bold, with more mouth than mettle; as someone who traded in opulence and bargain what they could not face head on. It’s not all the truth, but it is a part of it. When he was old enough to void the terms of the agreement, Ylan returned to Dorne.

He reclaimed a set of rooms in Sunspear’s marble quarters, but rarely spent much time in the city he once inherited. They traveled the Free Cities, for a while, and seized all the advances they missed during the last decade. They only came back to Dorne to drop strange coins, trade rumours and heap gifts upon their favourites. Old friends followed them into this self-imposed exile; others pretended they no longer knew him, as if he was no more Martell than a Braavosi mummer. Perhaps they were not wrong. Perhaps a bloodline is something you can lose.

Ylan removed themself from their family, sudden and decisive - first as a demonstration of power, then as a way to protect their pride. They had no need to witness how the Martells grew and bonded in his absence, how they formed their own rituals and jokes, their own plans and competitions. He had served his part, and more besides. He was a changeling, now.

And so, the winds turned. Soon after his five-and-twenty name day, a new conflict stalked the land. Its wingspan covered even the places where Ylan held court. It clamored for unity. It clamored for change. Ylan had heard enough of unity; it was a promise as hollow as a ghost.

But change... change was something he could put his mind to.

◜ ┈ 🔪 PLOT POINTS.

members of the family he lived with as a ward !! could be either one of the big houses in the six kingdoms or a vassal house to the martells, but i’d definitely rather it was a house that has current active players in game. infomercial vc. if your muse or your muse’s family might have had beef with dorne and demanded a ward exchange agreement, we may be entitled to financial compensation.

the details of the initial ‘conflict’ that led to ylan being sent off as a ward are totally up to plotting. was it a theon kind of situation? a myrcella kind of situation? who knows. it could be old blood related to the targaryen reign, or something entirely new. we can see what matches the vibe of these idiots who are always grappling for power 😔🤞

childhood friends he made in dorne !! he only left when he was about 14, so plenty of time. bonus points for the added Trauma™ of being forced to leave.

nobility & commoners (priests, artisans, hedge knights) he traveled the free cities with? ylan did a lot of lavish ‘expeditions’ that were nothing more than cruises of consumption. think of it like the grand europe tour for 18th century nobles in our world lmao. some nobles from dorne & beyond could’ve definitely chosen to follow him around. give me weird adventures together!!! give me witnessing the full breadth of the world and the insignificance of westeros, and coming home forever changed & skeptical about the game of thrones. alternatively, give me people who were inspired by the free cities to enact some change in the six kingdoms - idealistic, radical, or simply self-serving.

i am a humble simp for noble rivals and/or enemies. sunspear is the same den of vipers it’s always been, and not much changed between the time he left and the time he came back. maybe there are some people he double crossed in the past, maybe there is someone currently keeping one of his secrets or looking for revenge?

allies he might’ve made in king’s landing ahead of time. knowing the houses will gather to celebrate the new reign, he would’ve definitely ( 1 ) moment of braincell and began networking for inside ears & eyes through letters, bribery, promised favours.

someone he has beef with purely because he was stupid enough to cuck them. any gender & age range works since ylan truly is Like That™

#◜ ❛❛ 𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐍. * 「 𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬. 」 » about. ◞#thronesintro #abandonment tw #parental neglect tw

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enthroneds · 4 years ago

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◜ ┈ 💀 DARK WINGS, DARK WORDS.

* ── [ kasia smutniak , genderfluid , she/they . ] : in the frays of king aerys iii's reign , therein remains ossara greyjoy nee targaryen, the 42 year old queen of the iron islands . rumor has it that their loyalties lie with house targaryen and they are for the targaryen reign . they're so composed + tactical that it makes sense , but most seem to look past their resentful + covetous nature . when they come up in conversation , i'm always reminded of ice blocks laced with ice on the long road, an aversion to myth, bedsheets crumpled & put to the flame .

◜ ┈ 💀 HISTORY.

As twin to the Targaryen heir, there was always an element of thwarted destiny to them. They came into a life of almost queendom, of almost carving your deeds in the skin of time. A few seconds separated them from the throne; but in the game, a few seconds were a lifetime. Fate hinged on far less solid things. Kingdoms were won and lost on it.

They had to wean themself off the taste of the crown. Had to lick it off their fingers, early on in the nursery room. It was not the hardest thing they had to do. It was not even close.

Her education was all rough and rigor, growing up. In the Red Keep, once burned & scourged, there was no distinction between who is to be taught grace and who is to be shown violence. Targaryen children were all raised like wild things, after Daenerys' madness - cursed and hallowed be her name, and most of all forgotten.

When they seized the throne again, the dragon-riders meant to keep it. They meant to weld it together by blood and by bone. The siblings received lessons fit for that purpose. Fit for a land that had drunk its fill of war, that had choked and sputtered on its dregs. Diplomacy, economics, the art of the knife. How to sew the mouths of men; how to sew their hearts. Rulers were pillars, these days. Instruments of stability. Not legends.

There were no legends left. Gone were the days of poppy wine and frills, of princes cooped up like doves. Gone were the days of Jahaerys and Valena, of chivalry and ignorance, of rulers grown fat and faithless in the light. Gone was the decadence, the music, the folly. The new era was an era that had known darkness. It had watched it crawl out from the forest, eyes worm-white and hollow. No songs left. Not after the White Walkers.

She prepared for a political union long before it came. A marriage tied with lies of white and cloth of gold. It was practical; it was fate, in its own brittle way. She just never expected it would be the Iron Islands. It made no sense, she told her father. It made no sense, she cautioned before her brother, her twin with hands like embers. She could not serve their house from the Iron Islands. She could not serve the backbone of the land, the throne. Incomprehensible, it was. Bad tactics. And cruel. Hard to say which is worse.

It was the Iron Islands, after all. A marriage as vast and unknowable as the ocean, on whose surface storms danced like waves. A barren marriage, too. The wise-women called it an old Greyjoy curse. Old as the breath of the Gods. Older than Balon; older than the rocks and the cliffs. Only the sea came before it. Only the Drowned one. We have curses of our own, Ossara thought. She had to wean the smell of milk from her. The thoughts of motherhood, the plans on the board, the promises for the future. She had to wash them off like clay and silt. They went the way everything does: to the deep, to the dark. She set to write new plans. She was a child of the new era; a child born to an age where the worst happened.

Ossara was raised to wait for the war. The war waited for her.

◜ ┈ 💀 PLOT POINTS.

visitors to king’s landing when they were young !! childhood friends. maybe wards to the targaryen family or viceversa? noble houses that spent the summers together?

mentor / novice sort of relationship, like early days margaery & sansa. 👀

an old rivalry, likely nursed when she was still in her 20s in king’s landing and the world seemed much more clear-cut than it does now. it could evolve into lots of things, petty feuds or reconciled friends or downright enemies in the new political landscape.

someone ossara saw potential in, and invested both money and time into, olenna style. she would be priming them for either their big break and so would be completely honest, or for a secretive mission, which means they’d prob have lied to them or sugarcoated the truth. this can def work for more people so don’t be afraid to hmy ! 🥺👉👈

a greyjoy/greyjoy-allied person that distrusts her for being so close to the targaryen reign - or simply for being an outlier. ossara is a fake it til you make it snake, but that doesn’t mean she ever completely acclimatized to iron customs & island fortitude.

a new-found, fledgling alliance in the iron islands. something that is based on mutual interests, or owed debts/favours, and that is important to both of them but is tentative nonetheless. a relationship that can be blown either way as they arrive in king’s landing, and allegiances shift with the tide.

more tbd as i plot out some “canon” established family connections !!

#thronesintro #◜ ❛❛ 𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐀. * 「 𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧. 」 » about. ◞#infertility tw #miscarriage tw #// just implied nothing specific !!

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