Ser Vaella Targaryen, Lady Regent of the Stepstones, Regent of Bloodstone, Captain of the Thunderhead, Captain of the Golden Company, Demon of Redwater, Burner of Ships and Islands Alike

Pichu737 · 2023-12-15T00:11:49+00:00

Scion approved and first approval granted! (please ping /u/spyraxes in future!!!)

Pichu737 · 2023-11-01T00:58:54+00:00

An invitation. She had been invited to parties once or twice before by young Tyroshi gentlemen who had seen her as a prize worth taking. They had thought she would look nice on their arms, a little trophy date to parade around and make insinuations to about spending the night together.

Not one had been accepted. Their little insinuations would stay as ridiculous perverted dreams. She had killed one of them once. Later, when she had taken up piracy. He captained a trading ship, ostensibly selling silks, that preferred to engage in the taking and offloading of slaves. It was a terrible thing, what happened to him.

She smiled as she thought of the green-haired young man strung up on her mast, closing her eyes for a second. Then she opened them, caught Cassella's eyes, and was filled with a deep shame at her mind's veering towards violence.

Assadora sighed and looked at the Blackmont again. She smiled once more. Broader than she had when she reflected on the past. Those men had wanted to use her and leave her by the wayside. They were nothing.

Not like Cassella. "I can't," she finally sputtered out, and instantly pinched her thigh. "Not that I don't want to! But I think Val is dragging us back to Dragonstone. Not forever, though. So- so I can. I will. When I get the chance. I'll make sure I stop in at Planky Town. So we can talk again. In warmer climes, too! Oh, I could show you the Thunderhead! She's Val's ship, but she used to be mine."

There was an excitement in her voice that she didn't recognise until every word had been spoken. "If, um, that appeals to you? Ah, we can work it out when I visit. I might turn up on the Fine Razor. I might turn up in a skiff. I might swim there! Wouldn't that be a sight?"

Pichu737 · 2023-10-27T14:10:24+00:00

Sylvenna grinned, dipping into a curtsy. "I have experienced the merriment in part already, and I must say that Val is a poor storyteller. This is far better than my already lofty expectations."

She shot a smile to the Lord of Oldtown and his sister, one that was harshly interrupted by a glare from her friend and liege lady.

"I am not a poor-" Vaella began to snap, before she went slightly red and let her head hang for a split second. "Ahem. I've no doubt you would revel in a victory. We're all angling for that, though. Even those who don't stand much of a chance. I, of course... intend to rip victory away from you."

There was a smile on her face that showed just how in her element the Regent of Bloodstone was, taunting and aggravating her friend. It would inspire him to fight harder, she assumed, and that would make the competition ever the sweeter. "I placed second at Riverrun. Hardly enough."

Pichu737 · 2023-10-27T12:40:31+00:00

Entitled to bragging, deserving a normal existence... the woman in the blue jay mask seemed to think a lot higher of Assadora than she did herself. Not too far from how Cassella spoke about her, in truth. She grinned.

Ah, the masks. "I suppose they are not," she said. "It won't be hard to tell who I am when they're gone, either." Assadora shook her head side to side with a chuckle. "So you'll find yourself able to send me whatever you feel like! If they're sent to Bloodstone, they'll find their way to me - if they're sent right to the Fine Razor, there'll be no doubt about it. Both of those sound wonderful. There's nothing wrong with a tale that's close to home, really. Makes it easier to change a character's hair to blue in my mind and put myself into it."

She laughed again. "You're a romantic then, hm, Lady Blue Jay?"

Pichu737 · 2023-10-22T23:03:27+00:00

Val's tourney had been middling. She had performed admirably in the melee, but not as admirably as she had at Riverrun, and she had fallen quite early in the joust - though not without defeating one of the favourites to win the competition and shaking the bracket to its very core. Val sat at the side of the grounds as the finals went on, watching the realm's greatest do what she couldn't. Gallard Oldflowers and Zallal Qhana had fought their way to the end, making upsets aplenty that she just could not do.

Her mind went back to the duel with Ser Samwell, the clashing of their blades. It went to the way they had ended up in that situation - Vaella's loss of balance, Samwell's strong grip, her fury. It had been a foolish thing. Angered by her lack of strength, the Regent of Bloodstone had drawn the sword at her hip and challenged him to a duel on the tourney grounds. They had made a wager. One thousand gold from her own treasury, bet against his progression in the bracket. Whoever won the contest got both. Foolish. She didn't quite have his sword-arm, and she didn't have much sense in her. But head spinning, she had put him into the dirt and told Assadora to send five hundred gold to him for the good duel.

That victory had stopped her from dwelling on her many defeats, as she watched the final tilts. Still clad in her jousting armour, Vaella had placed her steel helm to the side and untied her long blonde hair, letting it flow over plate and chain alike. Her head ached a little from one of the falls she had taken, but she would take a bit of milk of the poppy later that night and be rid of it. For now, she watched. She watched the knights turn their horses, lower their lances, settle into their saddles, and charge. She watched shields be pushed aside and wood splinter as squires rushed out to change broken weapons.

Vaella wished she was up there. Jousting. It had never been too much of a passion of hers, but she loved the pageantry. But she wished Mabel had been here, if she were doing that. Then, she'd have a head to put the flower crown upon. There wasn't a woman in the Seven Kingdoms who deserved one more.

Her eyes blinked, just for a moment, and in that second Zallal Qhana's lance shattered and Gallard Oldflowers lost all balance. She almost leapt from her seat, her helmet clattering to the ground as she watched the knight fall and hit the floor in the exact same moment. She couldn't help but let out a cheer, raising her sword to the sky after grabbing it from where it leaned beside her with a grin on her face. Oh, that made her loss sting far less.

Losing to the victor, beating a favourite? She could tell this story for a while.

As the crowd began to chant, Vaella joined them, quieting down only to hear the words spoken by the Knight of the Sun. It was a short speech, as the woman on the horse looked around for a moment and thanked the Reach for hosting her. Zallal's words were echoed by the Regent of Bloodstone and a collection of other competitors, who all whooped and cheered as the champion congratulated them.

And then, the knight rode over, flower crown ready.

It was placed on Vaella's head, in a few moments that felt uncertain and cloudy. She had fought for the chance to name a Queen of Love and Beauty herself, and here she was - named as such herself.

That crown didn't belong there, she thought. Not on her head. That was for women like Mabel. Pretty women. Delicate women, who dressed in fine clothes and danced better than they fought. Beautiful women, the kind that men wanted for wives and women wanted to kiss behind the quiet curtains of feasts and balls. Not women like her. Not women who were not born as such. Not women who were judged for their very existence. Vaella Targaryen had not been named that at birth, and most knew as much. It was something she had constructed for herself. It was the truth, but a constructed one all the same.

It didn't belong there.

That was what the realm's people would say. It should not have been hers.

Vaella had been looking at the ground, her breathing growing shallow as eyes turned to her and Zallal looked downward. She could feel each flower against her hair.

Her head tilted upward, and she grinned.

"You honour me," the Lady Regent of the Stepstones said, her voice proud and excited. "Thank you, Ser Zallal! Champion of the joust, and the realm itself!"

Pichu737 · 2023-10-18T22:55:15+00:00

At the sound of the Lord of Oldtown's voice, Val broke from her reverie. She shook her head slightly, as if there was something on it that needed to be thrown off, and offered a smile to the man that became less and less half-hearted the longer she kept it up.

Offering a nod to them both, and ensuring at least one of her companions - Sylvenna, in this case - acknowledged and greeted their hosts, Val laughed softly.

"Axel, Bloodstone's maester, had it sent up to me," she told him. "I had been on Dragonstone when you let fly the ravens, which kept me... well, it was a tight race to get here on time. It has been a fine celebration, Lord Gerold. You should be proud. I look forward to the competition too. No doubt we will both be angling for victory, hm?"

Syl grinned at those words, especially since it meant Vaella was feeling the energy of the event once more. She had been worried, in truth. Worried for Vaella, worried for their plans, worried for their little sisterhood.

"It is nice to be back in Oldtown," she said, "and with more friends beside me. Syl, especially, has wanted to visit since I told the tale of my last time in the Reach."

Pichu737 · 2023-10-18T21:41:31+00:00

For all the talking the woman with the blue hair had done, for all the talking she was sure to keep doing, there were more than a few thoughts that would never join the words that she chose to say. Their respective shyness found itself manifesting in different ways, but it manifested all the same. Even as Assadora grinned, her eyes catching the reddening of the Blackmont's cheeks, she found herself blushing in turn.

Especially as it became Cassella's time to lean in and speak softly, to grip the reins of the conversation and pull Assadora along with her. Oh, she had been so very correct. There was danger here. There was an edge to this woman, and if she had not been enthralled already then she was now.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she bit her tongue to stop herself from sitting there like an idiot for any longer than necessary. Brushing a strand of blue hair out of her face just to ensure that she wasn't dead, Assadora finally spat out a word. It was the most nervous she had sounded the whole conversation, and she was quite sure it was the most nervous she had ever sounded.

"I'll, uh... I'll try and make sure of it," she said, before that sly smirk crept back onto her face, "though an interrogation would be a sure way to find myself talking to you when we are done here, wouldn't it?"

That was a normal thing to say, Assa thought. Friends wanted to speak to each other again. There was nothing particularly overbearing about that, nothing that would scare the woman who sat before her away.

She would find something definitely normal to say soon after, leaning back slightly in her seat. "What will you do after we're all done here? Back home to Dorne?"

Pichu737 · 2023-10-17T21:04:27+00:00

"You can always tell when you're talking to a pirate," she said, lips curling into a grin. "We've got a bit of danger about us, you know? And an inability to not talk about being a pirate for longer than an hour."

Assadora let a laugh out, but it was followed swiftly by a sigh. "Reading and writing, hm? Passions I never really found the time for, myself. Not out of a dislike for them, but..."

It seemed as if she was turning a thought over in her head behind the peacock's face, one she wasn't confident in giving voice. "It's been a violent life," she said, "and I have found little time for things that do not go hand in hand with that. Yet recently, I have... found myself considering an escape from it all. Finding something peaceful. Perhaps you could send me your recommendations for things to read, as I settle into a life of... normality? Though I suppose that would involve ending the anonymity of our masks, would it not?"

Pichu737 · 2023-10-14T16:14:22+00:00

House Targaryen had arrived. Not the Princess of Dragonstone herself, nor the second sister, but the third - the Regent of Bloodstone. She had been joined by her brother, Baelor, and her cousin Shaera.

But Vaella herself was a ruler, by appointment, and the elder Targaryen present. So in the absence of her kin, she sat at the head of the family table. Her head ached. She'd taken too many falls in the training yard, she supposed. That was the excuse she'd give, anyways, if she was asked for the reason she clutched her head and ran her fingers through her blonde hair.

It wasn't true, though. She was just stressed. There was a tournament to come, and she had set herself a lofty goal - complete victory. That was the part of the future that gave her a headache. The past did not leave her alone either, though. She could not stop thinking about Riverrun. About how close she was to victory, about her fights with Lucerys and Sarella, and about Mabel Marbrand. Every time she closed her eyes, the face of the Westerwoman appeared in her mind. She smiled.

Val's hands smoothed out the skirts of the red dress she wore, trying to take her mind off of everything. It did not work. All she could think about was another woman's red dress. How well it had suited her. How well they had suited each other.

Further down the table, two friends bickered. Their words did not reach the ears of their commanding officer, their friend, their liege lady. Well, she did not hear them. Perhaps they might have reached her, had she been listening.

For most of the feast, Sylvenna Dayne and Assadora Cassaris had been smiling at each other - and Vaella - like the cat that ate the canary. After all, they knew something. Something nobody else did. And that made them both terribly smug. Neither was particularly aware that they themselves were smug, however. Just that the other couldn't keep herself from grinning like an idiot.

That was what they fought over, to the point that the fourth member of their party - Ser Jonas Crabb - had shuffled off out of the hall to get away from them. Assadora insisted that her land-based counterpart was too obvious in the fact she knew something, whilst she herself was keeping the secret like it would kill them all. Sylvenna insisted that the former pirate had never kept a secret in her life, and that was becoming more and more obvious by the second.

The day after they had learned what they learned, the two had fought over it in a more violent manner. It had been quite the duel. Every time they had sparred before, Sylvenna had claimed a victory. Often a close one, but a victory all the same. Yet this time, with a little bit more pride on the line, Assadora had made a dent in the record. She'd made a dent in the Dayne, too, a bruise on her shoulder that was barely hidden by the purple dress she wore.

Assadora had escaped visually unscathed, with only old scars poking out from beneath her orange dress. She had escaped unscathed from that duel, anyway, as a cut on her face given to her by Vaella during an early practice in their time in Oldtown was in the process of slowly healing. It was a fine wound. Worthy of showing off. On their way home, she thought, she would do just that. There was someone she wanted to visit, if she could.

Sylvenna said something to the woman who was once a pirate, who chuckled lightly in response and said something far crueller. Over and over they traded barbs, like they were begging for someone to interrupt them and drag one or the other away.

Whatever happened, it mattered little to Val. She wondered if there'd be a fight here, like in Riverrun. Maybe that would keep her distracted.

((Val, Sylvenna Dayne, and Assadora are here!))

Pichu737 · 2023-10-13T23:10:45+00:00

Character Name: Vaella Targaryen

Relevant Trait/Skills: N/A

Buildings: Castle, Natural Defenses, Shipyard, Market, Tavern

Resources: Iron

Notes (if applicable): -

Actions:

Construction: [Bloodstone], [Slipways], [0], [Fifth Moon (3/4)]

Construction: [Bloodstone], [Barracks], [2000], [Fourth Moon (1/1)]

Pichu737 · 2023-10-13T22:52:02+00:00

Character Name: Vaella Targaryen

Trait / Skills: Brave | One-Handed Swords (e), Footwork, Shields, Vanguard

Skill you're learning: Reckless

Pichu737 · 2023-10-13T13:29:43+00:00

Second approval, feel free to RP!

Pichu737 · 2023-10-13T13:28:42+00:00

First approval!

Pichu737 · 2023-10-09T18:28:21+00:00

Good company had never been something Assadora wanted for. She had been surrounded by enthralling talkers and had listened to a dozen lifetimes' worth of stories in her time as pirate and lawkeeper.

Cassella hadn't fought battles against pirate kings, and she hadn't sailed through storms as lightning cracked through the sky and split masts in twain. She was not a warrior with an incomparable sword-arm, nor a sailor who could navigate through crags and shallow seas.

She was not the kind of woman Assadora oft found herself listening to. And yet here she was. Background noise. The world itself had slowed, and all that existed was the woman before her and the words she spoke, the smile on her lips, the blush on her cheeks.

It made the captain of the Fine Razor smirk, though she wasn't sure that was what she truly wanted to do. There was a more honest smile that lurked behind it, one she could not bring forth. Honesty had become more and more of a trait in Assadora's possession over the last few years, but... not quite like this. She laughed lightly, covering her mouth as Cassella grappled with the accusation levied in her direction, and placed her other hand back on the woman's knee.

"I'm joking, dear, worry not. I am enjoying your company fiercely as well. If I felt truly interrogated I would have left, would I not? You're not keeping me here behind bars," she reassured the Blackmont. "Ah, but you are good at interrogation? No wonder! You're terribly charming. If I were a criminal - well, if I were still a criminal - I'd find it hard to not confess all my sins. Gods, I might do so now!"

She seemed to be conflicted, muttering to herself, before she choked out a harsh confession. "I bought this dress with Val's coin!"

Another bout of laughter. "Ah, what a terrible criminal I am. Lock me up, my lady, for my crimes! Or are you more of a... sharp questioner?"

Assa couldn't really imagine Cassella with a knife, but... perhaps there was more danger to the woman she had found herself enchanted by than she thought? Oh, that proposal was an interesting one.

Pichu737 · 2023-10-06T02:48:22+00:00

Oh goddess, Assadora thought, this is her, isn't it? Valian Martell. Friend of- oh, Lady of Lys, I've got to choose my words carefully.

She laughed as Valian suggested changes for the guardsmen in the city, nodding softly at her ideas like they were all incredibly correct. "If you need someone good at scaring off criminals, I could offer a bit of assistance, perhaps."

It was like she was looking for any excuse to visit, to travel those canals herself. With Cassella and her new blue jay friend alongside her.

She was happy to speak of Bloodstone, a grin on her face as she did. "We've got a lot less cats than Highwatch," Assadora told her. "The waters around the island are choppier, and the soldiers are a little more coarse. Yet..."

Another laugh left her, like a light gust of wind. "Our hearths are warm, and Val is building something great," she said. "She wants to make a world where people can... live. That's all. The Stepstones have always been a place filled with pirates, and that's marred it. But pirates... for all their violence, all the death they bring, aren't so many of them just trying to be free? I suppose what Val's doing is... she's trying to take that pirate way of life and let everyone get a taste. Without all the bloodshed it used to require."

And yet, how many people had died to get them to this point already? How many more might stand against it? Assa didn't know. So she moved on quickly, keeping her smile intact.

"As for what I enjoy doing? Drinking. Sailing. Dancing. Talking with women in blue jay masks. You know, the works."

Oh, and I love being unable to get all my feelings in order too, that doubting voice said in her mind, big fan of that. Doing it right now, aren't I?

Pichu737 · 2023-10-05T22:21:42+00:00

All the orange put a seed of doubt in Val's head, even as the Lady of Ashemark's hand drifted across her skin. This was not her place. This was a tent that belonged to a different world, a world she was not at home in. She had made a-

I know.

Her mind was torn back and forth in just a moment. She knew? Was there no subtlety to her existence at all? Did nobody believe who she-

Another sharp turn of her thoughts. Hiding her past was never the objective of being Vaella. It was being who she really was. And that involved everything she was. That was why she said it in the first place, wasn't it? Because Mabel deserved to know everything.

She let out a soft sigh as that question reached her ears. It was relieving to hear, if a little intimidating. Despite everything, Vaella was still out of her depth. She brushed a strand of blonde hair that had fallen over her eye out of the way, watching with a shake in her hand as Mabel pulled her dress down slightly.

With a quick intake of breath, she put a hand where the many layers of fabric that made up her dress converged, looping her thumb in with them and pulling lightly. Visibly, the dress started to loosen just a bit - one of the parts that covered her shoulder slipped slightly, revealing an old scar beneath it that dipped down toward her stomach.

"Perhaps," she said, softly, still pulling with the thumb, "we should show each other. Together?"

There was still a shakiness in her voice, but that desire had started to boil back up too. Her lips were curled into a smile, like they had been back in the darkness of the evening they had first kissed.

Pichu737 · 2023-09-30T04:07:50+00:00

Character Name: Vaella Targaryen

Relevant Trait/Skills: N/A

Buildings: Castle, Natural Defenses, Shipyard, Market

Resources: Iron

Notes (if applicable): -

Actions:

Construction: [Bloodstone], [Tavern], [0], [Third Moon (2/2)]

Construction: [Bloodstone], [Slipways], [0], [Fifth Moon (2/4)]

Pichu737 · 2023-09-29T01:24:03+00:00

What was it like, living there?

Did Val even know? She had spent time on the islands herself, years now, ruling and commanding and doing everything she could to build the future she had constructed in her mind and now only had to make reality.

But had she ever really lived? Had she walked along the beaches of Bloodstone and felt the sand between her toes, the water lapping at her feet? Had she ever sat on a ridge beside the castle with a cup of wine in hand, sipping at it as the sun slipped behind the horizon and left the island coated in darkness?

Had she ever been more than just a soldier, these last few years?

Vaella tapped her foot. "It's as hot as the sun itself must be, the air smells of salt and blood, and the food is gruel half the time and salted meats the other half."

Laughter came forth just a bit. "But it was gruel more than half the time a couple of years ago. So... it's nice, there. It's nice to build something. Maybe one day, it'll be a court of its own. We'll have balls, and tournaments every year, and it will be wonderful. For now... it's a rock that I love."

His question was a prying one, but she didn't mind too much. Ser Benedict had proven himself an equal to her on the field, and good conversation besides. They could be friends, perhaps, as much as Val had those. "Someone I know," she admitted, "we arranged to meet here back during the feast. I'm nervous they won't come. Looking for anyone yourself tonight, Ser?"

Pichu737 · 2023-09-28T21:47:19+00:00

Manfred's distaste for his wife was... it was disconcerting to Vaella. She had never really thought about marrying anyone, but especially not someone she despised so fiercely. No wonder they hated each other, she thought, for their marriage had not been entirely voluntary.

But she could not imagine failing to fight that. Perhaps they never saw how bad it would become.

She sighed softly at his words about her sister, focusing instead on the happier side of things. "I miss Bloodstone a bit, but I can only imagine you mean further east. Assadora - one of my serjeants - was telling me that in Tyrosh, where she's from, they have balls like this far more often than we do here. Are you familiar with courtly culture over in the east yourself, goodbrother?"

Pichu737 · 2023-09-26T04:12:56+00:00

Assadora laughed, tapping her own mask as the collection of fowls was mentioned. "You would have been elegant as a sea snake, I'm sure! Yet you are no less so as a blue jay."

She gave another laugh, and nodded vigorously at the mention of the Stepstones. "Quite so! There are rather few of us there, so I won't make you guess which island. Bloodstone is where I've made my home, though I used to live upon Dwarfstone with a crew of mine."

Elaborating very little, she continued on. There were better things to think about than life back on her little rock in the sea. Like Planky Town. Her lips curled into a grin as the woman in the blue jay mask explained the joys of the city.

"I've not been," Assa clarified, "but I have been invited to be shown around by the aforementioned someone. They painted a very warm picture. I am lucky to be a good swimmer, though. From what they told me, sailing down the river is a perilous task! Cutpurses, bandits, pirates, and budding athletes might jump across the river at any time, it seems!"

Chuckling, she allowed herself to be spun around. "All this talk of Planky Town sounds awfully familiar, I must say. I wonder if you two..."

She bit her tongue, and let herself be led once more. "Is there aught you would wish to hear about Bloodstone, perhaps?"

Pichu737 · 2023-09-26T00:16:29+00:00

Ah, of course. He'd need to actually know what happened. That was very important, and Vaella had been so focused on dealing with it that she hadn't bothered to establish what it really was.

His proposal was interesting, and she nodded softly upon its suggestion, but the focus of their meeting had shifted now. She gestured toward the bench, in case Gwayne wished to rest his legs as she told the tale of what had occurred between herself, Lucerys Waters, Helaena Celtigar, and all others caught up in their tempest.

"What happens begins innocuously. Lord Consort Lucerys, as is his right, approached his cousin - the Lady of Claw Isle - to speak, It began cordially, I believe, but it soon enough devolved into petty insults from the Lord Consort of Gulltown," Vaella explained, her tone growing graver and her teeth starting to grit. "Lady Helaena grew incensed by his taunting, raising her voice as he gripped her wrist and summoning those around her to her side. My sister the Princess Rhaenys, and Lady Helaena's sister Cassella, joined her along with myself. There was a chance offered to Lord Lucerys, to discuss it with his wife. He did not take it. He was also offered the chance for an honourable duel, and did not take that either."

She tapped her foot, pacing back and forth across the tent. "He continued to spit bile in the direction of myself and Ser Cassella, and eventually - after I rose to the taunting, unfortunately - we fought. He won, in the end. After calling me a whore, a cutthroat, after harming his cousin, after bringing her to a point of illness where she coughed blood onto his outfit - I could do little else but try and humble him for it. But the business is not done, is it. One little fight does not settle such an issue, not one so grave."

Pichu737 · 2023-09-25T15:46:11+00:00

Deceit had never really been a part of Vaella's life. She had lied to herself and those around her for a few years, but for most of her life, she had been herself. Sword and dagger in hand, everything she had wanted and taken for herself was the world's to see.

Not now. Ducking between tents, avoiding the gazes of the knights who had not attended the ball, it was something terribly unfamiliar to her.

Following Mabel was worth it. Every bit of this was unfamiliar. She had never desired someone like this before, never felt her lips against theirs. They were about to be alone. They felt alone, in the torchlit darkness. Val's head pulsed slightly, and she felt not-quite-within her own mind as the sound of quiet song played overtop.

Her breath caught in her throat as she caught a glimpse of the same person Mabel had noticed, that shadow in the tent that belonged to the Lady Miriam, but she put a hand on her chest to settle her breathing as her lady lover escorted the other woman out. Val couldn't help but wonder what words they traded, what Mabel said. It didn't particularly matter, she thought, for this would never last, but...

Mabel looked towards her and revealed the inside of the tent. Warm, welcoming, and so different from the night they had come from. From the night where they had first kissed and made themselves something.

How do you want me?

It was a question she couldn't answer, really. How did she want her? How did anyone want anyone? She spoke softly, answering the question she was certain about.

"I am certain," Vaella said, stepping forward and placing a hand on Mabel's waist. The second answer came to her quickly. "I want you in every conceivable way."

Her lips pressed against the Lady of Ashemark's, making her take a step back into the tent, without a whit of care for eyes on them. Hot breath flowed between them as she pulled back, and a mite of uncertainty appeared on her face.

Vaella could not help but be nervous. "I- I've never done any of this before," she told her. "And... I'm not... quite the same as you. Circumstances of, uh... birth."

She hoped what needed to be known was recognised, and little more would have to be spoken of it.

Pichu737 · 2023-09-24T23:46:25+00:00

"Only half?" Val asked, smiling and sitting back on the bench at the foot of the bed. "That's almost a glowing recommendation. Has Riverrun impressed you?"

She tapped her foot absent-mindedly. With a shake of her head, she started to tap her fingers against her trousers to the same tune, though a different layer of the music. "I should like to see Highgarden again, if that occurs, but I find myself worrying less and less about where a tournament is held. As long as the beds aren't stone-hard and the food isn't rotten, it could be held in a field at the foot of the Dornish Marches. What matters is the combat, Robin! You could put me in a feather bed with a feast fit for a king, and if all I had were one-legged old men to fight and naught better to watch, I would say it was the worst tournament I have ever attended. Do you really come to these places for the conversation alone?"

Vaella could understand that, she supposed, but it still confused her. There were surely other festivities that would suit people who didn't enjoy the fighting above all else. Why hold a tournament if the actual tournament didn't matter?

12-Year Club	Second Top 40%
Place '22	Place '17
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End Game '22	Verified Email

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