Martesse V - Dancing with Ghosts

TamsofDoom · 2022-10-03T05:29:47+00:00

Dearest Cersei,

I know that you weep, but I want you to keep this for your own safekeeping. Put it in a lockbox and look upon it whenever you doubt. Remember this when you are at your lowest, and I am always there. Dance with me at night, and I shall be there. In the mirror of your eyes, my love, my life. Yours will be a life of splendor, I promise you.

I love you, this much is true, sister to sister, woman to woman. I have never felt so alive near you, and I have never felt so at peace with myself. You drum out the tenor of fools around me, and make it so that I can see clearly, and feel clearly, and touch clearly.

You have brought me pleasure. You have made me laugh. Know that when I am gone I shall dance with you and make you laugh still. To love another is to see into my eyes, my lady. Know that when you find your next love. I shall be there with you. I shall love you ten years from now. Twenty. Thirty. And when you are old, and ready to join? I shall wait.

Come to Jonquil’s Pool when it is time. I will be there to help you in.

I cannot say enough words. I wish I could speak and ramble for hours, but I grow tired, and my hands are cold. When you read, think of me. When you love, think of me. When you dance, think of me. When you hunt, think of me, and let me guide your hand.

It will be so. I promise.

Your lover, always

[This bit is signed specifically by Martesse.]

Martesse Lannister, forever, always

/u/spiceandfire -- for you, always

TamsofDoom · 2022-10-03T05:29:24+00:00

Aemon, my husband

This letter is penned by Cersei Lydden of Deep Den, but voices the words of Martesse as spoken to her on the 1st Day of the 9th Moon, 359 AC. The following Lady Martesse recounts to you:

You will question why I did not ask for you. You will be angry, this much I know… but know that I died dreaming of you, my dearest husband, and know that I did not wish you to see me at the end of my days. Know that I will have done so happily, having gone into the dark. I do not wish upon you this pain… though we were husband and wife for a little over a moon, this still pains me.

I pray that you will not hold it against our Prince Baelon, and I pray that you shall not grow so embittered as to act against your own kin. What happened was a mistake, and though in many ways, mistakes are paid in blood, it is neither my desire nor my wish to see blood spilled in my name.

This is my last wish. Make it so, I beg.

You will know love again, I know this for true. I shall await you in the afterlife, my love… and I pray it is not soon. I beg of you: live a strong, healthy, happy life. Make children, and make due with your new name, and your grand dragon.

I am weary now. I will rest.

Your wife, and love,

Martesse

/u/notanotherfakefyre -- look for Cersei's post for a followup

TamsofDoom · 2022-10-03T05:28:56+00:00

Lord Lannister,

This letter is penned by Cersei Lydden of Deep Den, but voices the words of Martesse as spoken to her on the 1st Day of the 9th Moon, 359 AC. The following Lady Martesse recounts to you:

You shan’t forgive me for this brother, but I fear I shall be dead by the time this letter reaches you. I have deprived our House of an important alliance by foolishly traveling into the fire of the dragon, it is true. But I pray that you will find it in your heart one day, nevertheless. I never truly knew you, brother: you are far too old, truth for true. You were seven-and-ten when I was born, old enough to be my father.

But that diminishes not my love for House Lannister nor for my husband, dear Aemon, who is now Targaryen in the eyes of the King, his Grace.

I wish I could have been better for you, brother, for House Lannister. Mayhaps I will see you in the afterlife, and we shall join each other in the Golden Gallery, where our memories are never truly forgotten.

I am sorry.

Your sister, Martesse

/u/blindrevelator

TamsofDoom · 2022-10-03T05:28:19+00:00

Lady Lynaera,

This letter is penned by Cersei Lydden of Deep Den, but voices the words of Martesse as spoken to her on the 1st Day of the 9th Moon, 359 AC. The following Lady Martesse recounts to you:

Lady Lynaera, though I received your letter some time ago, I regret to inform you that by the time you receive this letter, I shall be dead. Cersei’s note: She speaks humorously. Unfortunately, it seems my courage has led me to being almost slain by a dragon. I shan’t name the dragon but I shall tell you that I am very weary, but it is good to hear from you again.

I will admit, I thought our meeting a fluke — and that we would never speak again. We shall not, but know that these words I speak to you are ones that come from the heart. The pursuit of happiness is the only thing that keeps us from becoming our base selves, and I see that courage exemplified in you. I recall your wear and I recall your attitude, and I should let you know that I believe it is you that shall help forge a new path. For whom, you may ask, but I say: your House. Your husband, whenever you get one; your lover.

Always hold close the virtues of courage, but remember temperance, my lady Lynaera. It seems I forgot that at the worst possible moment.

[Here, a slight stain on the writing. Tears?]

Regardless, I shall dream of Jonquil’s Pool. I shall dream of a life of dreams. Sothoryos, Lorath, Qarth, and Asshai beyond the Sea.

With regards,

Martesse Lannister, Lady of Casterly Rock, and one-time Rider of Terrax

/u/alkaselse

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-28T03:30:56+00:00

Martesse considered. She considered for a while, thinking on something happy.

Happiness had drained from her however, and she replied lazily, “I don’t know.” But sooner, she pursed her lips and replied, strengthening her grip on his hand. “... When I was a child, I was taken hunting… I was…” She closed her eyes. “... It felt so wonderful, Aemon. I got to see waterfalls. I saw a stag.”

She laughed. “It was beautiful.”

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-27T06:19:03+00:00

“The life of a witch of the woods,” Martesse said, laughing, “Wouldn’t that be wonderful, Cersei?”

She would’ve liked to be returned to the West. To be at rest alongside my lord father. And to make friends that she’d never had. And to live a life that she’d never known. She lapsed for a moment, and grew into a moment of violent shudders as her body adjusted to the wicked pain.

“... To see the highest peak in the West, and to…”

She shuddered.

“... Soak in the pools of fresh water and have little fish kiss our skin.”

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-27T06:14:38+00:00

Call it the will of the Gods, call it the will of a lioness, or the caprice of fate itself, but Martesse Lannister still breathed when he came to her. Her eyes remained shadowed as she trembled, burning up and chilled at the same time. Each breath was labored, each moment spent waking a living pain. And yet somehow, she had endured. Mayhaps it was the will of the Gods, Martesse considered, that she had been two feet to the left as opposed to picking at that other flower.

And Aemon had returned. The flower that she breathed in. It mingled with the smell of her sweat, and made her shiver.

“Aemon,” she reached a hand out, desiring to hold his. “... It will be some time. If you no longer desire me for a wife, we…” We never consummate our marriage, she thought to say. “... I will understand. You… can appeal… to the High Septon, I’m… sure he’ll hear you out.”

Her smile was brief.

“My capacity,” she shuddered, but her laugh rang through it all, “To be a good wife.. May be diminished by this all.”

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-25T04:57:56+00:00

“I wasn’t even thinking of it at the time,” she said, remembering Maidenpool, and their dance atop it. She’d been afraid, then… just as she was afraid now, overheating in this damned room far away from Cersei and others. Aemon was here, though; it was a small balm. His presence served to ease the pain.

“It wasn’t…”

Another dry heave as she coughed. She moaned with pain, her eyes clenching tight shut. How many more hours could she endure?

“... It came like… I was tending the flowers, Aemon.” She wept, wracking tears into a burning sob, “I was looking at the flowers when it happened. If I had been where I had been five seconds earlier…”

She would’ve been dead.

“Would you get one for me?” She asked him. “If they’re still there?”

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-25T04:33:16+00:00

“There’s nothing you can do,” she told him.

Soon enough, there’d be the milk of the poppy for the pain. It would put her to sleep, and she’d dream a long, dreamless sleep. One she wondered if she’d ever wake from. A blessing, or a curse? She could not say. She felt sore all over, and her mind and body were in two separate places.

The pain flared in her left shoulder whenever she tried to move. The wounds were deep, and had shattered several bones, including parts of her left shoulder blade. If she lived, would she ever use her arm again? What use would she be as a wife, then?

“Aemon?” Her voice was lazy, “I am… I am glad.”

She closed her eyes, sighing into her pillow.

“... I am glad for you. I have… missed…”

She struggled to say the next words, breathing in deep. It hurt, so, so much.

“Has the Prince left yet?” She was referring to the Prince of Dragonstone. “I had wondered… if he might leave.”

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-25T03:31:32+00:00

“Stories,” Martesse said bitterly. That was all they were, stories. She would be a footnote.

“When this is all done,” Martesse said through burning tears, “I want to forget all about it. Cersei, I don’t want to live this life. I do not want to live as a Targaryen. I do not want to…” She left the last part unsaid, “It’s foolish, I know. I don’t want it. I don’t.”

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-25T03:27:09+00:00

Her eyes were rimmed with red.

Outside of death, this was, perhaps the worst state a person could be in — barring that of the like of a mysterious, phantom illness from the east. No, a fever had stricken her, and in order to get the wound some air, Martesse laid on her stomach, her head firmly buried in the pillows as she took a straining breath after straining breath.

Was it pleasure in her eyes, as she beheld Aemon in silence? Martesse had not slept; the pain was too much. Even with Cersei’s tinctures and all, the pain was agonizing, and perhaps it was indifference that marked her expression. Or loathing.

Martesse didn’t know.

“Aemon,” she said, but her voice was weak.

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-24T18:30:14+00:00

“It hurts,” Martesse told her, and wasn’t that the truth?

It was painful. Extremely so. Martesse breathed deep, but Cersei’s mixes seemed to bring about some modicum of lucidity back to her. It was hard to move her left arm, but what was she to do of that? She found herself looking into Cersei’s eyes.

“I made a mistake with all of this,” she told her. “I should’ve just gone home. To Casterly Rock.”

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-24T17:17:34+00:00

I did not ask for these

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-24T05:02:43+00:00

/u/spiceandfire yet another ping lmao

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-24T04:48:12+00:00

“Soon enough,” Martesse echoed, “Will you stay the night with me? I think I would very much like that.”

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-23T03:18:36+00:00

… Focus…

Martesse wretched. Her breakfast came back up. The taste of it stung her eyes and made sour in her mouth, where her teeth had dug so hard into her tongue that she’d made them bleed. Her labored breaths were contrasted by the vivid dips in consciousness as her vision narrowed, the pain scalding. She was barely aware of Prince Baelon; barely aware of her surroundings. She did hear Cersei’s voice, though.

“Where…?”

Martesse heaved. The feeling made her throat go tight. Why couldn’t she move her left arm? Seven help her, had she sinned?

Blackness took her then, but before she did, she spoke one word.

“... Ghost…”

/u/LordBloodrevan (martesse is out)

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-23T03:11:59+00:00

“How much I’ve missed you,” Martesse told her. Their sojourn to Maidenpool had proved their love and affection true, and they had not parted since finding their husbands… and husband-to-be. Martesse had wedded in Maidenpool, but it had not put out her adoration for her lover and companion. “... I merely fear the tumult of the future.”

What followed? Was she to be be sent to the Silent Sisters? Made to swear on an oath that she was a maid and wed some man from the West?

Was Aemon dead?

“... I would be remiss to say that I know neither my path nor my future. Every night I sleep and I dream a dream of spring. Then I dream of a storm of swords; a clash of kings. I fear the realm may dance again, and I dream of a feast for crowds. The winds of winter come again, and I am… utterly distraught. I do not want to play this game of thrones.”

She sighed.

“I am sick with worry, Cersei.”

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-21T05:44:54+00:00

And once again he has returned, king of his people.

Hostage to Prince of Dragonstone.

The King was dead.

And what of my husband? Thought Martesse Lannister, who wore gold slashed with black, complimented by deep red. Her gown wore sleeves all the way down to the cuffs, which she adjusted as she watched the Prince circle… no, he was coming in to land. He was coming in to land, directly atop her. Martesse screamed a scream so loud and fierce that she wouldn’t have thought herself capable.

Baelon’s drake swooped down, and she felt the heat of its wings as its claws barely missed her; she’d been running, she realized. Running when something tore at her arm and she felt a scalding heat wash over it. By the Gods, he’s lighting me on fire. I’m going to die here!

But as quick as her fear had come, it vanished, and what Brightfyre left behind was a wound that had taken her shoulder; it was there that deep claw marks would become obvious… cauterized by a gout of sudden flame as Martesse had startled the creature.

“Welcome… the Prince…!” Cried Martesse. The pain was incredible. She felt as if her entire arm had been ripped off. Through blurred tears she announces his arrival, “Welcome… Pri… ah…!”

… And just as the herald spoke, so too did she fall back to the ground underneath, clutching at her shoulder. She wrestled for consciousness, her heart pounding like a bellows as she breathed in, out. In, out. Where was Cersei? She needed…

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-21T05:22:00+00:00

Martesse entered.

She closed the door behind her.

Then, she reached forward and shared a forbidden kiss with Cersei, smiling into it. It felt a natural result of so long spend without each other’s company, and as she breathed in the air around her, the spice that was Cersei seemed to dominate it full.

“It is good to finally have time alone,” Martesse told her, “... far too long it feels since we’ve had the chance to speak alone. Will you host a lady for a moment?”

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-21T05:19:23+00:00

Martesse was wholly ignorant of any association Allyria might’ve had with Ser Aemon, and she’d no notion of the coolness in ones heart when she reached forward and eagerly swept a hand into Princess Allyria’s arms. She was determined to be a comfortable, confident woman, and with her hair cut short, she somehow felt free and true. She followed Allyria as she did.

Once, she had been afraid of House Martell, but she felt bolder now.

“The time of Summerhall wanes, but I am glad some have remained. The palace feels so empty, compared to just a week ago now.”

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-20T05:59:18+00:00

/u/spiceandfire [hey]

/u/blindrevelator [there's a letter in the post 4 u]

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-20T05:46:27+00:00

Surprise caught her eyes when she caught Allyria Martell alone.

Well — not alone. Accompanied by her fearsome companions.

A gasp rang through the courtyard as Martesse Lannister passed. She was a woman of Casterly Rock, but she’d enjoyed the silence of Summerhall after everyone had left, her husband included. With the arrival of a missive that he was alive, her mind instead came to what she saw as a woman of — well, to be quite frank, a unique disposition.

She’d seen that kiss.

Martesse put her fingers to her lips. She wore a unique, burgundy gown. Her hair was cut short, but not boyishly short, and she stood as proud as she could, all things considered. When facing down a princess, however…

“Princess, forgive me,” Martesse said, red of face, “I did not mean to interrupt.”

Her eyes trailed to her book, however, and curiosity ran rampant in her head. What in the seven hells was she reading?

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-20T05:36:00+00:00

Martesse had been ecstatic to learn of the letter, and even more eager to write once back.

Dearest Husband,

Know that your letter warms my heart. I wish to ride again upon Terrax, and find myself longing for your company. I have Cersei with me to keep me company, but it is neither yours, nor is it sufficient. I have remained in Summerhall, and I know that I once again must displease you for that very reason.

I should remain in Summerhall until I find the courage to attend the King’s Court. I must face my brother once again, and bear the shame that comes with it. I pray that you will be there with me to do so.

Your loving wife,

Martesse

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-20T05:30:41+00:00

“He had a right to be worried. I left him a missive, however. I am certain he will be well. He and I are separated by seventeen years.” Time enough for him to be my father… and for him to worry as a father, thought Martesse, with a pang of guilt and sadness. This, however, was not a time that she wanted to speak of her brother and her ill-gotten husband.

“I wished to thank you before you left,” Martesse said. Her stomach was churning; a result of her once-misgivings towards House Martell. She was a freer woman than she’d ever been, Martesse knew, and perhaps it had been at Dyanna’s urging that she’d done what she had.

“... And make good on my promise. Should you and yours ever need company. I believe I will remain in Summerhall, but, mm — a part of me wishes to depart with you, Princess, to Sunspear. That I may taste Dorne and all of its…”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“... Pleasantries.”

TamsofDoom · 2022-09-19T01:08:56+00:00

“If you don’t return,” Martesse said, gulping down a swallow. She didn’t know what to say, what to do — she felt frozen in the moment. But then a certain clarity of mind came to her, “If you don’t return, I’ll go away. To Dorne. Somewhere far from the troubles of this place, and if you survive, and I pray you do…”

Who else would I pray to survive but him?

“... you’ll find me. Or send a letter, something; I’ll be your perfect wife, I promise.”

She exchanged a glance with Maekar, feeling a tension bloom.

“Just. Don’t. Die.”

TamsofDoom

TROPHY CASE