#thrones.wedding

[crownscost]

status   :   open   .

setting   :   the  edges  of  the  great  hall   .

when   :   the  evening  of  the  wedding   .

          daemon  maneuvered  about  the  room  with  a  familiar  ease,  and  not  for  the  first  time  that  evening  does  the  déjà  vu  hit  him,  the  situation  and  the  celebrations,  memories  of  a  wedding  he’d  held  with  fondness.  but  the  more  time  he’s  spent  with  shaera  in  recent  days,  a  part  of  him  felt  hopeful  that  perhaps  they  might  find  that  same  sort  of  happiness  he’d  once  held  with  laena.  he  wished  for  it,  at  least,  that  maybe  the  gods  would  offer  him  this  kindness  after  all  they  have  already  put  him  through,  though  he  knew  wanting  for  such  things  was  unlikely  to  get  him  far.  daemon  accepted  each  congratulations  (  and  calculating  side  -  eye  )  with  a  warm  smile  and  the  grace  of  any  crown  prince,  kind  thanks  offered  in  return  as  was  expected  of  him.  head  inclines  just  slightly  towards  the  person  nearest  him,  hands  clasped  loosely  behind  his  back  as  gaze  shifts  towards  bride  across  the  room.     ❝  i  do  hope  you’re  enjoying  yourself.  have  you  had  the  opportunity  to  taste  the  tarts,  yet  ?  i’m  hoping  there’ll  still  be  some  left  for  later.  ❞

[thronesfms]

PLOT  DROP  THREE .    𝐒𝐇𝐄  𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑  𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃  𝐓𝐎  𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄  .

even  the  day  of  the  holy  matrimony  ,  proud  nobles  whisper  objections  against  the  foreign  bride  —  schemes  drawn  up  to  stop  the  wedding  ,  no  matter  the  consequences  .  these  rich  folk  believe  themself  to  be  above  the  gods  and  rival  machiavelli's  cunning  yet  they  underestimate  the  power  of  words  :  oh  how  fast  they  spread  through  the  lips  of  hard  working  servants  .

the  red  keep  was  empty  save  for  servants  preparing  the  feast  and  a  few  lingering  guests  ,  who  should  long  be  on  their  way  to  the  sept  of  baelor  .  the  perfect  moment  to  attack  :  quick  slash  to  the  throat  and  crimson  spills  on  the  white  wedding  gown  as  the  blade  kisses  the  soft  now  marred  skin  —  a  necessary  sacrifice  for  the  wellbeing  of  the  kingdom  .  no  wriggling  body  and  pleads  of  mercy  as  salted  tears  roll  .  loud  shrieks  of  terror  that  could  warn  guards  avoided  ,  no  desperate  prays  to  the  mother  to  save  them  :  only  silence  .  no  clemency  and  no  guilt  for  the  war  that  will  break  out  :  it  must  be  done  for  the  greater  good  .

only  things  never  go  as  planned  and  the  dark  -  haired  noble  struggles  .  small  figure  suffers  in  the  arms  of  their  captor  ,  sharpened  meteorite  dagger  cutting  throat  several  times  —  stinging  wound  but  never  the  final  slash  .  until  the  attacker  grows  tired  ,  blade  slashing  through  her  throat  and  the  touch  of  it  burned  them  alive  .  body  drops  face  down  on  the  ground  ,  crimson  pooling  everywhere  as  they  leave  the  room  dressed  as  a  servant  ,  like  no  massacre  just  took  place  .  she  bleeds  out  all  alone  while  her  loved  ones  are  celebrating  .  

                         but  at  least  jeyne  caron  died  as  she  lived  :  fighting  .

body  not  even  cold  when  the  bride  -  to  -  be  enters  the  room  with  her  guards  ,  in  search  of  the  missing  loved  one  so  they  can  leave  for  the  ceremony  .  piercing  wail  wakens  all  servants  as  sworn  shields  rush  out  to  pull  her  away  from  the  body  —  it  would  be  criminal  to  show  up  in  the  sept  with  crimson  staining  white  :  a  bad  omen  from  the  faith  of  the  seven  .

soldiers  are  told  to  ridden  of  the  deceased  noble  as  servants  must  clean  up  the  blood  -  soaked  stain  on  the  carpet  .  silence  was  imposed  or  else  tongues  would  be  removed  by  the  executioner  .

however  ,  words  spreak  rapidly  like  wildfire  and  the  ghost  of  jeyne  haunts  the  great  hall  during  the  festivities  .  pleasant  chatter  turns  into  horrendous  revelations  with  no  real  proof  :  where  is  jeyne  and  did  they  run  away  as  his  grace  king  lucerys  claims  ?

[crvwnfought]

open  starter    /    stefan baratheon. status:   open for responses ! where:   the dessert table. when:   the evening of the wedding.

        the  sooner  this  damn  celebration  was  over the better. then they could all leave this city, something he’d wanted since the very day he’d first set foot inside its walls and the feeling had only increased given recent events he wished he could forget, and it also meant an end to empty small talk and stuffy nobles. he would have remained on the outskirts of the room had his sweet tooth not caught sight of the decadent treats on one of the tables. the one currently in his hand might be his fifth and likely not his last.       ❝  the cakes and tarts are the one saving grace of this affair.  ❞        other than his betrothed, but stefan couldn’t cling to her like a shadow for the entire night despite wishing he could.

[ladystormlander]

open starter !

“oh look !” jocelyn calls out, her pupils widening to take in the beauty of the red comet painting the sky. there was something about nature & the skies above them that fascinated her so. she felt safe for a moment, blanketed in the warmth of her joy & forgetting the judgement of those around her. “the crone must be smiling down upon us, don’t you think ? blessing those who are wise.” she finally looks to the person beside her, her gaze kind and genuine. 

[flvvrpetals]

ＡＳＴＥＲ ＴＹＲＥＬＬ, lord of highgarden. 

aster is adorned most noticeably in a calf long dress coat that is deep emerald color, covered in beautiful embroidered golden roses. he often is caught throughout the evening swishing it around dramatically to make his niece and nephew laugh. the lord is accompanied by his youngest sister, lady alerie tyrell, and mother, dowager lady tyrell, on either arm. he gifts his youngest sister his first dance of the night, twirling them eagerly around the floor.

[vedritied]

larra  ⸻  :  choosing  to  monopolize  the  lyseni  dressmaker  that  had  followed  the  rogare  entourage  from  lys  to  westeros,  larra  had  picked  out  the  fabrics  beforehand  and  allowed  the  woman  to  do  as  she  pleased  ─  her  only  stipulation  was  that  the  dress  was  not  to  overshadow  her  sister  and  that  it  should  not  clash  too  horribly  with  the  one  worn  by  her  cousin,  serenei.  the  final  result  is  something  that  would  have  gotten  her  banned  from  the  sept  of  baelor  had  it  not  been  for  her  blood  relation  to  the  bride  ─  with  a  skin - toned  shift  that  hits  the  tops  of  her  thighs  worn  beneath  for  some  semblance  of  modesty,  the  sheer  fabric  emphasizes  each  dip  and  curve  of  her  body  as  it  is  pulled  tight  at  the  waist.  her  legs  are  bare  and  pale  beneath  the  lilac  fabric,  and  she  is  without  much  adornment  besides  wrist  cuff  on  her  right  hand  detailing  the  symbol  upon  the  rogare  coinage.

lyonel  ⸻  :  the  lord  heir  of  lannisport  glitters  almost  as  brightly  as  the  bride  does  in  his  outfit  of  sheer  gold  ─  hanging  from  a  series  of  chains,  the  overlaying  piece  is  made  of  hundreds  of  thin  golden  chains  interwoven  with  the  other.  the  chains  were  impossible  to  get  on  and  will  doubtlessly  be  just  as  difficult  to  get  off,  allowing  peeks  of  his  chest  and  muscles  to  show  with  each  move  he  makes.  beneath  the  piece,  for  some  semblance  of  false  modesty,  the  lord  wears  a  sheer  black  top  and  his  pants  are  plain  and  black  as  well,  leading  all  eyes  to  the  accenting  piece  as  desired.

seda  ⸻  :  the  silk  of  her  dress  is  the  finest  available,  imported  from  lys  by  the  request  of  the  rogare  entourage  and  the  color  is  a  vibrant  olive  green  in  a  nod  towards  the  colors  of  her  husband's  house.  though  the  material  is  of  lyseni  make,  the  style  of  her  dress  is  distinctly  dornish  ─  with  twists  and  knots,  the  silk  is  made  into  ropes  with  accenting  details  around  her  hips  to  show  a  peek  from  skin.  the  back  of  the  dress  is  similarly  held  in  twists  of  silk  and  her  hair  is  similarly  styled  into  a  long  braid  down  her  back,  with  burnish  gold  flower  details  interwoven  amidst  the  thick  strands.

[aurorecaron]

AURORE CARON née harlaw attending the wedding of crown prince daemon targaryen and princess shaera targaryen née rogare.

[ravenna-of-nightsong]

[crownscost]

status   :   open   .

setting   :   balcony  observing  the  bleeding  star   .

when   :   the  evening  of  the  wedding   .

          while  the  red  glow  cast  upon  the  keep  seemed  to  give  the  festivities  an  otherworldly  appearance,  it  was  nothing  compared  to  the  glimpses  one  could  catch  of  the  comet  outside.  the  evening  so  far  had  been  spent  indulging  in  wine  and  easy  conversation,  feeling  less  out  of  place  in  dornish  fashions  alongside  familiar  company  and  hints  of  lys  that  filled  the  room.  still,  though,  the  evening  air  is  a  welcome  reprieve  from  the  warmth  of  pressing  bodies,  and  as  much  as  she  enjoyed  listening  in  on  the  whispers  of  passing  servants,  even  gwyn  found  them  too  repetitive  this  early  into  the  evening.  staring  towards  the  comet  in  the  sky,  the  young  manwoody  raised  fine  glass  of  dornish  red  to  her  lips  and  offered  her  next  words  to  nearby  company.     ❝  do  you  think  the  comet  and  the  evening’s  theme  are  coincidence  ?  they  say  a  red  comet  is  a  sign  of  things  to  come.  good  ones,  i  shall  hope,  for  the  prince  and  princess.  ❞

[thronesfms]

WHAT  COMES  AFTER  .   𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄  𝐎𝐅  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘𝐍𝐒  .

there  were  arrows  and  daggers,  and  the  touch  of  them  burned;  from  players  to  slayers  in  an  instant  were  turned  .

when  morning  came  and  the  flames  were  at  long  last  extinguished  ,  the  sigils  of  house  arryn  were  found  upon  some  of  the  men  ,  mixed  in  with  member's  of  the  king's  own  soldiers  .  beneath  the  rubble  came  the  bodies  of  numerous  lords  and  ladies  ,  some  long  gone  to  the  gods  and  others  hanging  on  by  a  thread  .  though  most  were  lucky  in  that  they  had  escaped  with  their  lives  :  the  realm’s  beloved  queen  visenya  was  not  .  when  the  news  came  of  house  arryn’s  seeming  involvement  ,  king  lucerys  had  smiled  darkly  from  his  place  upon   balerion  the  brutal  .  there  would  be  no  trial  -  not  this  time  .  within  the  month  ,  the  bard  leopold  would  become  famous  for  his  song  -  the  burning  of  the  never  -  flying  falcon  .  telling  the  story  of  how  the  king  and  his  dragon  riders  -  along  with  his  army  -  would  take  their  revenge  upon  the  vale  ,  leaving  only  bloodshed  in  their  wake  .  the  fighting  itself  lasted  no  longer  than  a  week  ,  for  the  gentry  of  the  vale  dared  not  fight  back  for  fear  the  same  fates  might  fall  upon  them  .  when  all  was  done  and  the  last  of  house  arryn  had  been  swallowed  whole  ,  the  targaryens  took  the  eyrie  for  their  own  .  

the  discovery  was  made  that  the  arryns  were  (  partially  )  responsible  for  the  fall  of  the  red  keep  and  the  death  of  the  queen  ,  and  so  the  king  and  his  people  had  them  all  killed  .  the  only  survivors  are  the  (  former  )  ruling  lady  baela  arryn  -  now  algood  once  more  -  and  their  child  ,  who  under  the  king’s  decree  is  now  a  bastard  .  the  king  has  taken  eyrie  as  his  own  and  court  runs  from  there  now  (  at  least  until  the  keep  can  be  rebuilt  )  .  the  queen’s  funeral  would  be  held  there  ,  though  to  the  surprise  of  the  kingdom  it  was  to  be  a  quiet  service  -  only  the  targaryens  were  present  .

[godspecd]

𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧 - many would recall his attire that he wore only years ago for his beloved sister’s wedding to prince daemon. the same man he regarded as family, he ensured to make aware just how proud house velaryon still remained even if they bent their knee to their king. the way the dark blues brought out the golds that adorned the heir of house velaryon that night. a single man then, many would have loved to find them lost in his embrace that night looking devastatingly handsome. yet, now, for the second wedding, one could notice how the blues and the golds seemed to be long forgotten in the now-ruling lord of driftmark. black and white adorned his being, the pattern on his sherwani resembling much what late princess laena would have worn so effortlessly. he stands in support of his king and his heir, seeing as his loyalty has never wavered from them even if many like to believe them to be involved in his sister’s passing. 

𝐝𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐰 - the ruling lady of pyke, making one of her first public appearances without the looming figure of her father or mother since their passing. while many knew the lack of involvement her parents had with the iron islands since dyana had returned from her travels around westeros and essos, many doubted she could excel without the looming threat of disapproval from her parental figures. yet, here she stood, a flourishing nation that only seemed to grow stronger by the day. accompanied by her betrothed, lord ryamis redwyne, her gown is a personal reminder to herself to not let her home define her completely. so different than the colors of her house, yet seemingly perfect for the woman who symbolizes peace within the iron islands. a personal touch was added, as the precious stones on her bodice is all broken pieces of geode rocks she has collected through the years on the iron islands. a gentle reminder that while all seems bleak in the iron islands, there still was a beauty that possessed such a place if one looked hard enough. one could look at dyana and almost forget how her cries echoed merely weeks before all the festivities happened. good, cause she would need all of her pride to hold herself together during the drama to occur ahead of her. 

𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 - malina, the true sun of the north, the holder of all the stars in her husbands eyes, so desperately awaited for an occasion to dress up. fortunately, her gown would not go to waste, as the green silks and green sheer fabric so graciously reminded everybody just what would bring a beast down to its knees. she looked mother nature herself, the forests of the north that beckoned one to get closer and explore its mysterious wonders. the robe like design of the dress was a small request on her behalf for her husband, since she knew how much he adored such a silhouette on her.  she looked the spitting image of a goddess, holding onto her husband’s arm who seemed humbled by the experience of escorting such a divine being to an event. even if mere moments before he caught her mocking all the lord’s ideas of her husband with his cane raised up in the sky, proclaiming for all to fear her. her handmaidens couldnt help but laugh, cause even if malina tried, she could hardly act intimidating. she was never a good actor. though, it left one wondering what it would feel like to be on malina’s bad side. 

𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 - many already know of elif’s reputation. there was even those who have seen elif in the most compromising of positions thanks to certain lover boys who wished nothing more than to see their woman perform for an audience. one could say that while elif’s fashion was rather modest, there was nothing that was hidden at night near her private quarters in oldtown or the brothels that got paid handsomely to keep their mouth shut. yet, elif was getting so tired of having to pretend. the rumors were there, her reputation was hardly anything to maintain. her sweet demeaner many knew only hid the she-devil that laid underneath. so why not indulge it? why not deliver what everyone expects of her? oh how her grin lit the room when the sheers of the fabric left little to the imagination, but the waves of purple jewels expertly covered all that needed to be covered. it was elif’s personality embodied in a gown, with the color of the house she was meant to join one day. there are already those who dont like the idea of aeron marrying elif, those who think he deserves better. those who believe she is nothing but a disgrace to the noble name of dayne. yet, elif’s confidence that she radiates at the wedding festivties says “aeron dayne is lucky to even call me his”. there is little anyone can say that could ruin her mood that night. 

[ryamisredwyne]

RYAMIS REDWYNE attending the wedding of crown prince daemon targaryen and princess shaera targaryen née rogare.

[flvvrpetals]

ＷＹＬＬＡＳ ＣＡＲＯＮ, ruling lord of nightsong. 

wyllas has his hair pulled back into a half up-done style with a braid on either side, with the rest resting down to his shoulders. his eyes are rimmed with black, matching the jacket he wears, trimmed with gold. notably, wyllas is accompanied by his wife, ruling lady aurore caron nee harlaw. this is their first public celebration as husband and wife.

[wulfofkarstark]

the karstark lord has adjusted his attire to match his northern attitude while being conscious of southern temperaments. winter's sun out, guns out, and wolf teeth on display.

[valeria-reed]

[scndrenched]

Blythe Martell has their hair slicked back slightly to keep it of their face, with very little makeup, allowing their dress to shine. They dance with friends and enjoy wine through out the night