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Post by Ceires Lannister on Jul 4, 2012 5:30:29 GMT -5
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-----Ceires pouted, she stormed, she sulked; she receded and returned. Today, she rested, though a scream gradually built behind grit teeth and quirked lips. Throughout, she hated. Most of all, she hated her late husband for his half in Aedan, roiling in her helplessness and fury as she reclined on a divan, administering petty cruelties and criticisms to her maids.
-----She had imagined a world without Richard to be a world with songbirds and open skies, but instead she woke up that morning shouting and raging. The morning rays still stretching through the gray dome over King's Landing, Ceires snarled at a quivering handmaid before standing abruptly and exiting her chambers.
-----A flurry of raw energy only barely contained by her finery, she swept down a curving staircase, and encountering a Kingsguard, she needled him, "Is my son awake yet?"
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Post by Rickard Tarly on Jul 4, 2012 18:14:33 GMT -5
The Queen Regent, the Kingsguard immediately straightened his stance, his eyes descending upon the golden-haired woman looking more flustered than usual. Ser Rickard had never paid much attention to the queen, only because her husband, the late King Richard neglected her whenever he saw the two in the same room. It never occurred to him at first, but the more he spent his time guarding the former king, the more he learned how much the king had resented his lady wife. Through the king's dabbles in strongwine and whores, the king expressed his discontent rather vocally. Rickard could hear it from the other side of the room, though he had wished he hadn't. Now that the king was gone, Rickard felt a certain distrust in the Queen Regent, even though honestly, the knight had known very little about her.
"He is not, my lady," Ser Rickard offered an answer politely, though he might have answered more than he should have, betraying his king without realizing, "and he will not be up for quite some time. He was out late last night."
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Post by Ceires Lannister on Jul 5, 2012 1:47:51 GMT -5
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-----Ceires's vivid eyes narrowed as the Kingsguard's (Tarry? Tawny? No no, Tarly, that was it. How could she forget? This was the one without an arm, right.) sentence traversed into the depths of danger and unwelcome news. For a moment, she seemed ready to twist her lips and mock him, but the moment passed and her composure snapped back into the realm of careful, blithe nonchalance.
-----"Oh, was he? Well, he's young. I suppose we can let him be for a while longer," she said silkily, facing the open air beyond an opening in the wall. Her eyes, however, glanced at the knight.
-----"I'm sure he's just like his father, up all night strolling around the city or -- what did he do again?" she prompted, hoping to eke out hints from his guard, although she had to fight down a sensation of fear and revulsion at the comparison. Throughout, she maintained her professional, serene expression.
-----"Sometimes, it just suddenly fades from my memory like that." She tactfully refrained from adding, Because the man was fat and ugly and who would ever want to remember that gluttonous slug.
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Post by Rickard Tarly on Jul 5, 2012 3:29:51 GMT -5
"The young king is similar to his father in many ways, and then he is not," the one-armed knight admitted, "the good and the bad, I suppose." The Queen Regent had a sly way in prodding for answers. Rickard wasn't sure if she was the suspicious and scornful woman or a worried mother. The latter, I hope, although from his observations from the king's rambles, caution must be exercised when around the queen, however valid they may be.
When one of his brothers of the Kingsguard suddenly arrived to relieve Rickard of his shift, Rickard had avoided answering the Queen Regent about the young king's activities. The two brothers exchanged nods before switching places in front of the king's bedchambers.
She is yours to deal with now, Rickard smiled as he walked down the red and gold veiled corridor. Lannister colors, everywhere.
"Have you break your fast yet, my lady?" Rickard asked, without turning around, "you look famished." A sudden change in his mind invited the Queen Regent to join him, so that he could learn more about the woman the former king seemed to loathe so much recently.
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Post by Ceires Lannister on Jul 5, 2012 4:47:56 GMT -5
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-----She scowled at his retreating back, a vicious and defiant showing of teeth. Why did everyone insist on dismissing her? A worry etched itself into her heart, a worry that Aedan -- here her mind brilliantly, abruptly, pictured the sunny-eyed, lovely, robust little boy -- would suddenly transform into the wasteful, crude devil of his father. The vision disturbed her, filled her with scorn for her late husband and suspicion for his servants.
-----Even as the knight halted and spoke again, she was dissatisfied by the his impromptu invitation, distrusting him. Nevertheless, she responded favorably with, "I have not yet." The cracks in her pleasant facade resealed, and her voice came out even and polite, if just a little haughty. To reverse the situation so that she would be the gracious host rather than someone the knight was pitying, she added, "Why don't you join me and put to ease the concerns of a fretting mother."
-----Her saccharine demeanor belied her underlying intentions and emotions. Imperiously, unhurriedly, she strode forward to his side. She pointedly stepped in front of him to lead the way.
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Post by Rickard Tarly on Jul 6, 2012 1:46:29 GMT -5
"I would be happy to," the one-armed knight smiled and followed the Queen Regent down the hall. Although he had extended an offer to dine, she had taken it upon herself to host him instead. Always proper and courteous, this one. What was it that King Richard despised so much? Rickard could not seem to put a finger on it just yet.
"The halls are quite lovely nowadays," Rickard commented, "the red and gold of your house is rather refreshing. Are you preparing for your relatives to arrive here as well?"
Too many lions and there might be a problem, Rickard recalled the former king saying. That was why King Richard did not choose the queen's father, Lord Tytus Lannister to be the Hand of the King, although that man had the credentials. However the duty of the Hand fell upon Lord Jacob Arryn, though that man was old. One day, Lord Jacob had died when his heart stop. Old he may have been, however it had been said that Lord Jacob never had a history of heart attacks before. Rickard imagined that Lord Jacob's time had come. He lived a long, good life. Now the title of the Hand belongs to Lord Edric Stark, an honorable man, although Rickard had not seen him at all in the past week.
"The King will be thrilled to see more of his family here, I'm sure."
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Post by Ceires Lannister on Jul 6, 2012 7:01:25 GMT -5
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-----At his mention, she eyed the red and gold banners. In her vehement, honest opinion, they had proved to be the perfect improvement upon a castle which otherwise should have been black with mourning. Even black and gold had nearly asphyxiated her. She hoped Aedan would come to his senses, particularly those of family and logic, and concede to an ascent of House Lannister. He styled himself a Baratheon, and Ceires, in her jealousy and disappointment, wondered bitterly what comparable love Richard had ever shown his son, especially when she had gone to such lengths to birth him, love him, guard him.
-----"They are, aren't they? Lady Callista is our newest arrival to celebrate. I'm sure she finds the colors comforting," Ceires answered, nonchalantly circumventing the question. She sounded deceptively like a dutiful widow and mother attending to matters of home and appearance. "I'm sure the king will appreciate the support of his family, but I have yet to see head nor tail of him these days. As far as I know, he has not formally received any of his relatives yet. It makes me wonder what he gets up to instead." Ceires cast him a phony yet amiable smile.
-----As knight and queen came to their destination, she stepped aside automatically, absently expecting him to proceed first and hold the door for her in her lieu of her tardy maids.
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Post by Rickard Tarly on Jul 6, 2012 21:53:57 GMT -5
((OOC: Yay now you get to describe Westeros food XD))
The task of door holding duties had befallen on the one-armed knight, which slightly irked him. I have better use than this, he thought, showing the Queen Regent a meek smile as he allowed her to proceed into her room. He made sure to leave the door opened, so that none may question what it was a kingsguard was doing in the queen's quarters by himself. Rumors spread like wyldfire in the Red Keep, and he would not have some silly words tarnish his reputation or question the oath he swore to take up.
"Lady Callista is it? I am afraid I have never heard of her. Your family is large, many cousins I assume," Rickard spoke, "but I am sure the young king shall find some time to meet them all soon enough."
Rickard had never set foot in this room before. It now belonged to the queen, after she moved out of the king's room, which Rickard had been very accustomed to standing by. Like the halls, it was decked in red and gold. Does the Keep belong to the Lannisters now? Rickard wondered.
"The Red Keep seems so empty nowadays. The young king ventures out into the night. The Hand is seldom here. King Richard's brothers have left to Storm's End. Only you seem to be left around here, my queen," Rickard commented. Lord Edric Stark's whereabouts concerned Rickard the most. Ever since the death of the king, the Hand had been acting very peculiar.
"Ah. Something smells delicious."
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Post by Ceires Lannister on Jul 9, 2012 2:31:55 GMT -5
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-----Ceires fancied she heard the flutter of rustling skirts and saw the heel of a quickly disappearing maid as the door opened, and she nodded in agreement at the fragrance. She surmised the source was peafowl, plucked meticulously, and fresh bread. A set of fruit filled a bowl on the main table, and the red of the apples winked from their position under a ray of the spreading morning light. Ceires noted the impeccable table setting, save for a single unfilled goblet.
-----The rich colors soothed her abrasive mood, and she reminded herself with satisfaction that this room belonged to her, and only her. The second seat at her breakfast table unnerved her, however, as if someone had prepared a place for a ghost. She forced her eyes away from it.
-----"Sometimes, I feel like I am the only one left in the Red Keep, too," she said with a supplement of artificial wistfulness. "Have a seat." At her own leisure, she slid into her own chair without breaking her painstaking posture. She continued after having settled, as she pulled apart a portion of bread, "I suppose I don't mind. The quiet is a blessing, in my case. I only hope the nighttime whims of my son are temporary."
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