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Post by fairies wear boots 👢 on Oct 3, 2022 10:15:40 GMT -5
 A square fortress beyond a layer of spikes and walls twelve-feet thick, here lies the most regal of prisons - here lives the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, the King of the Andals and the First Men. InhabitantsAegon Targaryen Gaemon Palehair
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Post by oznerol on Oct 3, 2022 14:00:47 GMT -5
The Hand arrived. The silvery dreadlocks framed a still powerful face, despite the age. He wore the livery of his house and the badge of his office. Velaryon dismissed servants as he entered the king's solar, waving away those gathered there.
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Post by fairies wear boots 👢 on Oct 3, 2022 16:03:27 GMT -5
Each king had had their own choice of tapestries and adornments, and over the years they did slowly change, one by one. There were, however, always dragons - be they made of thread or some precious metal, Maegor's Holdfast and its inner bowls refused to let a visitor forget about the dragons. No more - not a single object was now left in the Holdfast that could remind the mortal eye of those Valyrian serpents. Nothing scaled, even. No winged beasts, no fowl. Lights were kept always dim, as if the evening summer sun was shining right through the western windows and illuminating the entire solar with radiance; braziers flickered, candles often lay unlit. Hearths were lit, but the servants always lit them in rooms the King rarely visited.
A bone-white bowlcut rested on the head of the boy who remained in the solar - an overly thin child, with small flecks of red marking the whites of his sleepless eyes. He was tall for his age, likely taking after his father, but it was easy to see how the rumors were true - it was nearly impossible for the servants of the Red Keep to get His Grace to eat.
The boy raised a hand almost formulaically, a welcoming wave delivered as an open palm that appeared - until the arm fell back down at his side - to be a command to halt.
"Good day, my lord hand" came the uncracked voice as Aegon the Younger stared listlessly in Velaryon's direction.
When the young king spoke, another pale-haired child emerged, sticking his head out of a window alcove to the left.
Aegon paused, looking at his companion, then deepened his frown before looking back to Lord Velaryon.
"Would you like Gaemon to leave as well?"
The Cunny King and the true King had become friends, somehow.
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Post by Magnate Lucius on Oct 3, 2022 16:17:57 GMT -5
An odd pairing if one could be found. One that was raised by the street rabble as some proclaimed bastard of Aegon the Usurper had become friends with the heir of Rhaenyra, of Daemon, of Viserys I and of Targaryens before him. When the wolf came and confined them to the Holdfast, there was no one else to truly interact with. Children needed other children to play with, to converse with, to connect with. And so, Palehair and Targaryen became friends. Gaemon was taken in, by the Crown, officially and made a... companion of the boy King.
When he heard a voice, Gaemon poked his head out of the alcove, wondering what was going on. His eyes noticed both Aegon and an older noble, the one identified as Corlys Velaryon, Aegon's kin by his stepfather's daughters and the Lord Hand. As a street kid, Palehair still wasn't entirely used to protocol, but he did listen to the King more than often. Recalling what had been taught, in this short year, in terms of what was expected of him, Palehair quickly found a way to be in full view and bowed to the elder statesman.
Lord Hand!
Gaemon was the guest here, the lowborn. Plenty made him aware of that after his supposed father was tortured into confessing the truth of his birth.
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Post by oznerol on Oct 3, 2022 16:50:22 GMT -5
Each king had had their own choice of tapestries and adornments, and over the years they did slowly change, one by one. There were, however, always dragons - be they made of thread or some precious metal, Maegor's Holdfast and its inner bowls refused to let a visitor forget about the dragons. No more - not a single object was now left in the Holdfast that could remind the mortal eye of those Valyrian serpents. Nothing scaled, even. No winged beasts, no fowl. Lights were kept always dim, as if the evening summer sun was shining right through the western windows and illuminating the entire solar with radiance; braziers flickered, candles often lay unlit. Hearths were lit, but the servants always lit them in rooms the King rarely visited. A bone-white bowlcut rested on the head of the boy who remained in the solar - an overly thin child, with small flecks of red marking the whites of his sleepless eyes. He was tall for his age, likely taking after his father, but it was easy to see how the rumors were true - it was nearly impossible for the servants of the Red Keep to get His Grace to eat. The boy raised a hand almost formulaically, a welcoming wave delivered as an open palm that appeared - until the arm fell back down at his side - to be a command to halt. "Good day, my lord hand" came the uncracked voice as Aegon the Younger stared listlessly in Velaryon's direction. When the young king spoke, another pale-haired child emerged, sticking his head out of a window alcove to the left. Aegon paused, looking at his companion, then deepened his frown before looking back to Lord Velaryon. "Would you like Gaemon to leave as well?"The Cunny King and the true King had become friends, somehow. Said Corlys, dry. The bastard had Valyrian blood, undoubtedly. The lads looked more brothers than king and servant. "No harm in that"
The Hand allowed himself to take a seat, despite having no leave. Age has its privileges. The aged nobleman inspects the Cunny King, as it was called in mockery. He had a sharp nose and was round of face, with pouty lips. He could be... Velaryon dismissed the thoughts.
"I heard you refuse to consume any meals, your Grace"He inspected his nails and then placed the once-sturdy hand on the char's carved arm. Velaryon noticed the lack of Viserys' tapestries about the Conquest and some gaudy ones depicting Valyrian in ardent orgies that used to adorn the bedroom: they were meant to increase the king's fertility.
"This cannot be. If you were to die of a flu because you have had no nourishment the realm would be bled dry, again. You have to eat"Velaryon looked sideways at the silver-haired page. Maybe, if the king refused they could chastise the boy. Or perhaps, that was too harsh.
"You have your father's bones, you better fill them with some meat, my king"
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Post by fairies wear boots 👢 on Oct 3, 2022 17:05:19 GMT -5
"I .." Aegon started, looking offended, "I've eaten."
He waved a hand dismissively.
"I ate yesterday," the king says, as if yesterday was an hour past.
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Post by Magnate Lucius on Oct 3, 2022 17:48:02 GMT -5
The reaction of King did make Gaemon sigh. Here was someone who was concerned about the health and well-being of his person. Who would ever ask him that? No one, quite likely. Palehair had no one who could ensure his care, save at the Crown’s expense. Only when the King answer did Gaemon look at Lord Velaryon.
Mi’Lord. I… do my best to assist. I manage to, at the least, ensure he still drinks water. He nibbles now and then. Oranges, grapes, apples, bread, anything that is brought to feed him.
Gaemon didn’t care if Aegon gave him that scowl for acting and answering this way, but Palehair was given a role in the household and that was being a companion to the King.
Not even his sisters can make him eat a full meal though.
The only other frequent visitors to the Holdfast.
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Post by oznerol on Oct 3, 2022 18:21:20 GMT -5
"You?"
Said Corlys.
"Very well, you shall make sure the king eats. You're named cupbearer"
He added.
"A room, livery and stipend you shall receive, as any other page. You're to make sure His Grace is fed and well"
The old nobleman's eyes left little room to imagination, this was paramount.
"My granddaughters are granted permission to have and share every meal with His Grace, if they so wish, and lunch and dinners, when informal, shall be served in His Grace's solar. Maybe their company shall remedy this situation"
His black skin, hanging loose at parts could also need more meals, but Corlys was almost eighty, the time for eating and appetites of the flesh had passed.
"The queen will also be invited to join. It is a good thing for husband and wife to be close. Lady Jaehaera is of good heart and kind spirits, you might get along"
Corlys had ordered to fashion new liveries and banners, with two dragons coiled, one golden, one red, three-headed and on a parted field, half green, half black, to signify the reunion of the conflicting claims. He had little love for Alicent's offspring, but Jaehaera was as guilty as a white fawn, none had she done, not a single error had she committed. She was pleasant, a timid child with a smile of gold. She would make a better queen her grandmother ever did.
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Post by fairies wear boots 👢 on Oct 4, 2022 12:57:35 GMT -5
Corlys was a vaguely familiar presence to the young king. Aegon had few memories of the earlier years, but he at least remembered that the old Velaryon lord was one of his mother's greatest allies, and was grandfather to his elder half-sisters. That made him, to the boy's wit, the only remaining relative he had left.
A shiver went down the boy's spine, and he turned away from the Hand. Egg had gone a few minutes without thinking about it, but now it was back. Thinking about who Corlys was to him brought him, once again, back to his mother..
"Yes, lord Corlys."
The boy stared away from both figures in the room in despondency, nodding obediently.
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Post by Magnate Lucius on Oct 4, 2022 19:53:25 GMT -5
Gaemon's face went as pale as his hair. The Lord Hand had just named him a cupbearer to the King, granted him a room, the ability to raise a livery, and begin receiving his own income. The young boy didn't have much time to think as, immediately, Corlys laid out an agenda. Making mental notes, all the Valyrian child could do was nod his head quietly... and then remember he had to be thankful!
Th-thank you, Lord Hand!
This reaction was more out of response to the overwhelming position and responsibility granted to the young Gaemon: make sure the King was healthy.
Perhaps then, Your Grace, we should invite your sisters and wife to sup with you tonight?
He had turned to the King now, making his first opportunity to be a cupbearer be done before the Hand to ensure confidence that Gaemon would see it done.
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Post by fairies wear boots 👢 on Oct 4, 2022 22:40:05 GMT -5
"I would like not to," Egg immediately muttered, almost cutting into his friend's words.
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Post by oznerol on Oct 10, 2022 13:07:41 GMT -5
"It shall start on the morrow"
Said the lord regent, still authoritative despite age and grief.
"And, your Grace, the appointments for court shall arrive soon to their posts. You might soon have companions of good blood, noble scions of noble houses"
He added.
"Pages, squires and cupbearers you shall hereby have, my lord king"
Corlys looked at the sullen king.
"Also, my son's child shall soon pay a visit to Your Grace: it is time he pays fealty for the titles he stands to inherit to you, his royal cousin. It shall be a good thing if you're to be acquainted with he who shall lead your sails in years to come"
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Post by Royal Joker on Oct 10, 2022 13:21:08 GMT -5
Lord Roland Westerling arrives outside the royal chambers, requesting an audience with King Aegon, third of his name. The old Westerlander was dressed in relatively simple clothes without any extravagant jewelry or chains of office. His most distinct piece of clothing was his sand-colored jerkin with six white seashells above his heart.
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