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AGE: 13
LOCATION: Kings Landing
PLAYER: Johnny
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Joined: 17-February 15
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Last Seen: Jan 27 2016, 10:01 PM
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Dec 5 2015, 01:40 PM

Now here was an interesting thing. For probably the second time in his short life Aelix Targaryen was prepared to go cap in hand before his father for something. As a Prince of Westeros, well, you can imagine that he was rather used to having his own way of things, even if they were to the obvious chagrin of his parents, he'd always found it better to act out and take whatever consequence ensued rather than not act at all. By and large it had worked out for him... sort of. Rare was it that he ever escaped his more inventive exploits unpunished, but then how else was he supposed to entertain himself?

Why then in this instance had he come to see the King? The simple answer was because what he had to ask was not for himself, rather he came on behalf of Kairen with whom he'd become much better acquainted since certain details had come to light and more for his sake than his own Aelix did not want to make it look as though he was trying to go around their father. He'd decided it would be best to try and speak with him just after they'd all arrived at Summerhall before the King found himself blanketed in petitioners who rightly ought to have been with the Small Council in King's Landing, as well as other assorted hangers on who were an inevitibility at this kind of event. Even now, twice wed, his father did have a way of drawing noble ladies' eyes even where he did not mean to.

Better by far Aelix should corner him now before insistences were made upon his time, it was not a matter he expected that they would be able to discuss in short order.

Aelix knew this was important, he knew that he couldn't afford to be skittish and like all young men he knew that he was definitely in the right; even so as he approached his fathers rooms he could not help but note the rising knot in his throat. As he came to stand before the door he couldn't help but note the moistening of his palm or just how hard he was trying to stand bolt straight so as to not look small, or weak, or scared. Oh why did he always have to be like this?

Before he had the chance to think any better of this idea he decided to simply go for it, as he so often did. Rapping gently upon the thick wood of the door, he eased it open shortly thereafter, poking his head round tentatively as he'd done the last time he needed something. There, as expected he found his father and swallowed the knot in his throat, hoping it was not so audible as he thought it was before he finally spoke.

'Are you busy, father?' he asked, trying seemingly in vain to intone measure of confidence. 'I'd like a word.' It was not lost on him that they were virtually the same words, now turned to nobler purpose, but then why did he feel this rising in his chest, something like dread if not quiet so severe. Why now when he asked for something worthy did it feel as though he would falter, fail? Was it merely that he knew this thing to be so much more worthy, so much more important that he knew he ought not fail his blood? It seemed so to the Little Dragon as he stepped meekly within, pushing the door gently closed behind him. Sealed in. Nothing for it now.

Aug 3 2015, 09:06 PM

Aelix, though he would be loathe to admit it to her face, had been missing Teora. He never would obviously, if he did he would never have been able to hear the end of it. It was bad enough that with her recent absence he had found himself plagued by recurring nightmares of cold and darkness, so much so that beneath his wearied looking eyes hung two pronounced bags, but if he let her so much as get an inkling that he “needed” her in any way the admission would haunt him just as surely. He did need her though, he needed to sleep. The young Prince had found during Teora's now seemingly all too brief stay in King's Landing that when she was close by he did not dream or if he did he dreamed of or with Teora and things were not quite so frightening. Aelix thought it best he definitely leave that last part out. When he was younger he experienced a similar effect when would sneak in to Rhaenna's chamber and snuggle in next to her and he occasionally still found respite dozing in the library while she pored over some tome or another when his dreams grew to be intense. How could he even begin to explain what was happening to him now though? Surely they'd all think he was a few stags short of a gold piece.

Even with his eyes wearied by sporadic rest it was not difficult to pick his seeress and confidante out of a room of people, in all manners she tended to stand out and even in her homeland of Dorne it seemed that there were no exceptions. Quickly and quietly as he could he ducked and slid between much more eager partygoers to reach her, leaning against a pillar by her rather than approach her face to face. This would be awkward enough without actually having to look the Toland girl in the eyes.

'I've missed you,' No response, typical. He would have preferred soft spoken witticism to cold eerie silence any day.

'I don't know why but ever since that night we spent together I can't get to sleep without you.' Little did he know at the time of utterance, but he would regret this confession almost instantaneously. 'Teora, are you even listening?' It would be no great surprise to him if she wasn't. She had a certain airy way about her in how she moved and spoke, somehow disconnected and unconcerned but that was Teora for you, but this he would quickly realise was not Teora.


He really needed to get more sleep.

May 8 2015, 05:01 PM

From the looks of things the small council was breaking up for the day, Lord Grafton came first, striding out of the council chamber with a definite spring in his step as though the coffers were lined with all the gold in the world... clearly someone had received their long sought after pat on the head. Aelix expected that with Valarr's engagement now properly secured he would disappear under a mountain of ledgers until at least the morning of the wedding, whenever that was to be. The shuffling of aged feet and clinking of manifold chain links signalled the approach of the next councillor. Aelix had never liked the Grand Maester. Simpering, slimy little man. He wished that his father would rattle his sabre a touch and have the Citadel name someone else to his office but it seemed that he would fill it until he finally let slip his last breath. But then a man as conniving and grasping as Pycelle would probably hold on to it for a good few more years yet.

It was much more quietly that Varys came, from where Aelix had placed himself he couldn't quite tell whether Pycelle had seen him and he'd no notion of whether he would show him any gesture of courtesy if he had, though he was not concealed exactly even if he'd made the effort to be the Wall would melt before he was able to hide from The Spider himself. The broad, bald man inclined his head respectfully, not breaking his gait as he paced silently in the aged Maester's wake. Aelix smiled softly and reciprocated with a small nod of his own. That seemed to be all for now. Whether or not Doran Martell had made an appearance, sent a proxy or whether either had already taken their leave he had no idea and who even knew where the hell Daeron Velaryon was at the best of times?

If he didn't take his chance now he might well not get to speak to his father for days. If it were just him, Arthur Dayne and Jon Connington in there or even just two of them Summer might end before they came out again. Breaking from his cover he crossed quickly to the door of the council chamber, but before he entered he pressed an ear to the carved wood. He couldn't make out much, which was rather the idea of a small council chamber he supposed, but he caught a word here and there, one or two sentences and could clearly here his father's voice presiding, not quite unwound from the council's proceedings it seemed.

Joy of joys.

Well he'd come so far, it only made sense to continue on. Stepping back he knocked sharply and heard the hushed voices fall silent before he elected to push the door in a touch and poke his head around. 'Are you busy, father? I'd like a word if you're finished for the day.'

May 8 2015, 12:28 PM

On the journey back to King's Landing from Casterly Rock he'd mostly stuck to his father's side, or been coerced to rather just so the King could be certain he wasn't up to any more mischief after his latest escapade. As such he'd only seen his cousin in passing, not having time to talk freely with her or ask for news of the other Starks and the North altogether. Sansa was a good little Lady certainly but she did have rather a talent for hearing things in his experience, she was hardly the spider at the heart of a complex web of contrivances, more the spool in the middle of the sewing circle. It felt like an age since he had visited Winterfell even when things in the south seemed to be moving so quickly and while he could always write Robb or Artos the opportunity was more immediate.

It was a pity that only Sansa had come though, she was a proper girly girl and the confluence of their interests were few and far between... that and he still owed Arriana for their last “duel” in the Godswood. She'd rapped him on the knuckles to swiftly disarm him and soundly slew him with her unforgiving stick, as if losing to Visenya wasn't nearly bad enough.

Still one Stark was better than no Starks and it had been such a long while that they would surely have much to talk about.

Quickly and quietly making his way through the winding confines of the Red Keep as was his ingrained habit by now, he came to her chambers and knocked firmly upon the thick wood of the door, he would prefer if he could get her attention less conspicuously but he wasn't up for climbing any trellises after what happened last time. How was he supposed to know that Varys was meeting one of his little birds right underneath him?

'Sansa? Open up, it's me.' He wondered, just as soon as the words had left his mouth whether she could even tell who “me” was after all the time they'd spent at opposite ends of Westeros.

May 5 2015, 11:17 AM

Aelix never expected to have to wait to see his own mother, his father certainly as he was always so very, very busy. That was very much what elder siblings were for he supposed, the time which the King had invested in them over the years trickled down bit by bit to him. It was well enough. In such reoccurring situations that his father was unable to spend time with him he'd had his big brothers and sisters and he had always, always had his mother. Now with her heavy with child and spending much of her days at rest he was perhaps beginning to understand why his siblings gave him such a hard time of things. Already these next Targaryens were holding their mother's time to ransom. He couldn't help but laugh at the thought, drawing a queer look from the Kingsguard stationed outside his mother's chambers. Laughing at the air, not a strong move. Didn't help that he'd hardly said two words to Lucas Blackwood since he'd been a boy. A much smaller boy that is.

The thought of his impending younger siblings both elated and terrified him, as mother had said before she could tell it was twins and she would know better than most women. Of course he was excited, but anxious all the same. He wasn't upset just because he wouldn't be the youngest anymore, wouldn't garner the attention that he once did which in point of fact probably suited him better than it would most, but with him supplanted as the baby brother where did that leave his identity within the great and glorious House Targaryen? The mischievous one? The insubordinate one? The angry one? The annoying one?

The disturbed one.

He shivered. Where in Seven bloody buggering Hells had that come from?

Thankfully before his mind could bring forth any sort of answer the door to his mother's quarters swung inward to reveal one of her handmaidens, she gave a polite curtsey which made his skin crawl before finally informing him that the Queen was awake and able to receive visitors. Nodding to Ser Lucas he gladly followed the handmaiden within.

Normally his interactions with his mother were far more... well normal, natural really was the word. He didn't really know what he ought to make of this and so even after all the time which had passed between them which he'd spent in Lannisport and he suspected she'd spent in bed, even when his first instinct was to rush over to sit beside her he stood a little ways off, stiff as a board and looking profoundly uncomfortable. 'Mother,' he greeted her, inclining his head as though they were stood in the midst of the most formal reception. 'You look well.' Of course she did, she was awake for a change.

'I missed you.'

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