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It is currently WINTER in WESTEROS during the year 303 AC. The new moon cycle marks a full twenty years since the Mad King was murdered, and his son King Rhaegar ascended the Iron Throne in his place. Though the year is fresh, war in the Narrow Sea has left the Free Cities of Volantis and Tyrosh in ashes, and the Long Night continues to beckon from the Northern fringes of the Seven Kingdoms. With the Queen Lyanna presumed dead, the citizens of the realms look only to each other for survival.
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 Northern Ice & Dornish Fire, TAG Matarys
YSERA TARGARYEN
 Posted: Dec 18 2017, 07:19 PM
Quote
KP is Offline
19 years old
DORNE
Targaryen
Manwoody
Dorne
Princess


The last they had spoken truthfully to one another, and not forced infront of others, it had been another argument. Another fight. Matarys had been going on and on about she needed to stay in Westeros while he went off to fight, because she was a woman and women are simply weaker beings. Naturally she had told him that the only way in the Westeros she wouldn't be fighting is if he kept her in the cells and kept her prisoner throughout the war. Which most certainly would've resulted in diplomatic problems with Dorne, which is exactly why Ysera had used it. She had backed him into a corner, eyes blazing with the fire that her husband lacked.

He was all ice, and she was the blazing fire.

With all of his talk, Ysera had been sure that he would walk up to the cot in the medical tent that she had been spending her days and nights with a few injuries here and there but otherwise unharmed and start lecturing her about her own injuries. Injuries she had gotten while protecting his eldest brother, but he'll overlook that detail to fret and lecture and bemoan the fact that until she was healed, there won't be any Targaryen heirs for the Tower of Joy. Ysera was certainly not as worried about this as her husband, because why stress over such a thing when they would have years to have children. Besides, if Matary's wants children so badly he truly needed to stop pissing her off and swear that their firstborn, boy or girl, will be his heir in following of Dornish law.

But this, this is not what she was expecting. As wrapped and bruised and bound she was, she hadn't expected this.

Oh, Matarys...

Dickon, thankfully, was unharmed in the fighting and had helped her to her husbands side and it was there that she stayed. Even as they operated on him, even when the Maester fretted over her seeing blood. Ha, as though she was some delicate little dove who had never seen the shedding of blood. She had shed some herself in this war. But with Matarys, injured as he was, that is when the fear snuck into her.

That Matarys might actually die.

Yes, they may argue and fight and who knows if they would ever truly see eye to eye, but that did not mean Ysera wished him dead. True, if he did die then certainly her life would become a bit easier and she wouldn't have to venture to Kings Landing ever again, but by the Seven she did not want him dead. She wanted him to live, and if he died then who would she have to argue with? Besides, she was too high spirited and fiery to be a widow! And so she had had a cot moved so that she would be close by his side, and any who tried to argue against her choices certain discovered that once she had put her mind to something there was no way to change it.

Mors had lent her a small text to keep her entertained as both she and her husband healed, which is very much what her current activity was. Which was quite a feat, given that one of her arms was bound and in a sling, but Ysera made it work. And as she read, her eyes would flicker to her husbands slumbering form, with both of her eyes once more working due to the swelling having gone down. Which meant that, the moment her husbands eyes flickered open, Ysera became aware of him being awake. And what would be the first words to her husband?

"If there should be any other wars, it will be you who will be locked up to keep you from fighting."

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MATARYS TARGARYEN
 Posted: Dec 30 2017, 07:06 AM
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quetzal is Offline
20 years old
DORNE
targaryen
targaryen
the tower of joy
prince


Fire filled Matarys in his fever. He was too occupied by his pain to fear his own death, but were the searing burning and confusion to allow for any free thought he might have. To escape the burning he had at first forced his way into Yraenyx's head as a survival instinct more than anything, but after the first few times he was more aware of what he was doing and how. It was still a retreat to swap his painful body for a merely lightly scratched one. However, his thoughts were still confused as the infected blood coursed through his brain. It took him a long time to remember Artos' warning to be careful. He forced himself to endure the burning and stay in his body to fight the infection. If he did not, perhaps his body would lie unconscious forever while he merged his mind with Yraenyx. Perhaps his mind would then be muddled forever. Or perhaps his body would die altogether without him fighting within it, leaving him stranded forever in the dragon. None of these scenarios appealed to him. He retreated to the dragon only when the pain became too much.

His eyes had opened before, but he had only hallucinated or had fits. This time, he could not hear himself shouting. His whole body felt too heavy to move, but it did not appear to be shaking uncontrollably as far as he could tell. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so he could not be hallucinating, yet he was still wary of things turning strange. His head pounded every time the arteries pulsed to allow blood through, as though the tiny change in pressure on his brain was too much. He could hear it flowing through his ears. Where the splints forced his right leg straight was all white hot agony. Sweat was tickling his neck and making his clothes stick to him uncomfortably. Why was he dressed? It was too hot for clothes. Too hot for these sheets. He tried to push them away but his arms were like lead. Ysera's voice drifted to him and stopped any attempt at movement. His heart soared in glee, assuming the words were in jest out of relief. She had been sat by him before when he had hallucinated, but he hadn't been certain if she was real or not. How long ago was that? It felt like days. Time meant little. It could have been hours, days, or months since the battle.

He tried to prop himself up to look at his wife, but his arms barely had the strength to move, let alone lift his upper body. He succeeded in shifting his head higher up the pillow and turning it to face her. The movement of his head alone made his vision swim. The motion was too quick for his brain to keep up. Blood was disrupted from the movement too, swirling through his head like a cannon ball being fired at the sides of his skull. A wave akin to seasickness spread through him and a maester was just in time to hold out a bucket to him before he was sick. It was mostly bile - it was not easy feed a man who kept having fits and hallucinated that he was being poisoned by foul monsters. Coughing, each cough like a gunshot in his skull, he turned back to Ysera as the maester wiped his mouth for him. He hated that, especially to be seen in this state, unable to wipe his own mouth, but supposed if Ysera had been here a while she may have seen worse. How had they been dealing with his bowels? He didn't think he wanted to know.

"You're alive," he croaked with a tearful joy. For all his fears about her safety during the battle, he had not been aware enough to understand anything anyone had said to him during his fever and could not be certain she was really there. Part of his dim dream-like thoughts had been wondering whether she had been killed. Perhaps she was lucky. Perhaps she was not so frail as he had thought. "How-" his voice, damaged from screaming and throwing up while the virus ate at his throat along with the rest of his body, choked on the rest of his question. He coughed hard, a little blood dribbling out the corner of his mouth. "How did... you get through?" His bloodshot eyes slowly searched her slightly blurry but ever-clearing form for signs of injury. "I'm so glad you're OK. At least, you look OK," he said with a weak smile. He didn't feel well, so he was allowed to be a bit soppy in his books.
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YSERA TARGARYEN
 Posted: Jan 15 2018, 10:04 PM
Quote
KP is Offline
19 years old
DORNE
Targaryen
Manwoody
Dorne
Princess


"Don't move," Ysera warned as, naturally, Matarys attempted to move around and appeared to be trying to prop himself up, setting down her book quickly to help him. The Maester was faster, however, though that didn't stop Ysera from briefly touching his cheek and hand, though only for the briefest moments. It made it all to clear that while yes, he was alive, he was also so ill. Thank the Seven she had a strong stomach, her gaze unflinching as her husband vomited into the bucket being held by the Maester just as it was unflinching as they dealt with his bowels.

His croaked words touched her, and Ysera gave her husband a soft smile that reached her dark eyes. "Of course i'm alive, you fool. I told you I would be fine." Ysera stated and, after a pause, moved her seat closer to her husbands side so that she could move some of his curls out of his gaze. They were soaked by sweat from his fever, and some wished to stick to his forehead, but Ysera was far more determined than they ever could be. Though she froze when he coughed, dark eyes zeroing in on the blood dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. "A bit tricky, ran into a few sellswords, but Aegon and I managed." She spoke bluntly as she wiped the blood from her husbands mouth with a small cloth, handing it over to the Maester to get rid off.

Ysera was thankful that her injuries were healing up, though parts of her were still bound and bruised, for she dreaded what his reaction would have been should he had seen her when she was first brought in. "I'll be fine, just a few bumps and bruises." She spoke so casually on the subject while purposely ignoring the look the Maester gave her. "I'm not sure about the others though I do know that Aegon was in one piece last I saw him and Valarr is healing up nicely, though i'm sure he'll give you the full details of it all once you've healed up." Her voice was noticably softer, without her harsher comments that often interrupted her speech. Obviously making a effort to sooth her relatively new husband, something she most certainly hadn't done before.

Matarys was ill and injured and had been on the edge of life and death - surely she could muster up some softness for the occasion.

"Lets just be thankful that you're here with us." She spoke as she placed her hand, the one not bandaged and bound, atop of his. Gently, timidly, as though he was suddenly very much breakable and any wrong move on her part may shatter him. "Besides, we both know i'm too headstrong to be a widow."
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MATARYS TARGARYEN
 Posted: Feb 25 2018, 07:10 PM
Quote
quetzal is Offline
20 years old
DORNE
targaryen
targaryen
the tower of joy
prince


The tone Ysera used was kinder than Matarys had heard her use with him before. He did not like that she was treating him differently due to his condition, but had to concede that in this case it probably was for the best he was treated gently. Regardless of the reason, he did enjoy this side of her and always cherished the moments she was like this in day-to-day life. Not that he was any better at ruining it than she was. They were both as bad as each other for starting arguments. If they could get through the whole of this interaction with neither of them leaving irritated, it would be a first. That she had sat by his side alone, and did not flinch when he threw up in front of her, spoke volumes. So many loving wives would turn away in disgust at seeing their husbands in such a state as he was in now, bedridden and weak, but she knew who he was so it didn't matter how she saw him.

He gave her a nod. "Perhaps I should listen to you more often," he admitted, a phrase he could not recall either of them saying to each other before. "I know you were trained, but I thought you were just exaggerating so you wouldn't get left out. Even the best can be killed. I was scared to risk you." Was this too soppy? He didn't really care. It had to be said. Forget all the stuff about women being weaker than men or her being too big for her boots; this was at the heart of why he had not wanted her to come to war. They might not be in love, but he cared for his wife and felt a deep sense of duty to keep her safe. That was not just as a husband to his wife, but as the son of Rhaegar avoiding a repetition of Elia's sad tale with another Dornish wife.

A brief look over her told him it was not just a few "scratches and bruises". He raised an eyebrow at her to say as much but didn't comment further. He was the one stuck in a bed. He did wonder what the extent of her injuries were, and glanced at the maester hopefully having noticed the look on his face, but no additional information came. He'd make sure to hear the whole story later. Either she was hiding it to avoid fuss or to stop him worrying. Both options irritated him. She should know he didn't make a fuss of much.

Still, it was a huge relief to hear that at least Aegon and Valarr were all right. Ysera would surely be informed of any deaths, provided she'd been awake for some time. "It's so good to hear they're all right. The others must be alive, too, or they'd have told you. You're one of us, after all." He didn't feel very thankful for being here. It didn't feel possible that he could have actually died last week. The perceived immortality of youth lingered even on his slightly pessimistic self. Soldiers younger than him fought and died, but it was impossible that would ever happen to him. Ysera as a widow was just as impossible. He laughed. "You'd be commanding my corpse to get back on its feet," he decided to make light of the situation, "But even without a husband I'd bet you would insist on commanding the Tower alone and finding yourself a new husband." He honestly thought she would have no trouble functioning without him. It was the source of most of their disputes, but he didn't think he'd want a wife without that spark. Lacking that independence made a person dull or pathetic.
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YSERA TARGARYEN
 Posted: Mar 14 2018, 12:35 PM
Quote
KP is Offline
19 years old
DORNE
Targaryen
Manwoody
Dorne
Princess


It will written in the history books should Ysera and Matarys not break out into an argument this day, for how rare an occurance it was. But, given the currumstance of how close Matary had been to the Strangers embrace, Ysera found that the fire within her heart and soul could be tempered down. Less like a dragons flame and more like the controlled flame of a campfire. Dangerous when touched, but calmer in its movements. With how injured they both were, and with Matarys current state, she could keep the peace as long as he didn't add fuel and purposely fire her up. Besides, in her current state, it was not as though she could walk away on her own free will and she would never live it down to have Matarys witness her being half-carried back to her cot.

Damn those archers.

And then he said a phrase that Ysera would remember for the rest of her days, and will surely use against him should they disagree. "Perhaps you should." Ysera mused with an almost satisfied smile, almost tempted on getting it in writing to pull out whenever they were arguing. She resisted the grimance as he became sentimental and soppy, but barely. Given the history between the Targaryens and Dorne, especially recent history with King Rhaegar and Princess Elia Martell, may she rest in peace, there was an understanding of why their marriage had occured when it did and why it needed to succeed. Why Matarys was so reluctant to heed her words and didn't wish for her to fight.

"And I understand that, I do." She began slowly, carefully thinking over her words for once before they fell from her lips. "It is just that to sit by idly in a tower while the people I care for, my family and my friends, fight and risk their lives is not something I can do. For them to risk their lives while I sit by is something utterly shameful and dishonorable in my eyes Yes, there is always a risk, but to live a life without risks is hardly a life I can live."

This might be the most open she has ever been with her husband, and certainly it was the most civilized discussion the two of them have had since their marriage. And all without yelling at one another - who would've thought it was possible?

"Don't even think of it." The growl was low, her dark eyes narrowing with a scowl of her lips as she saw Matary's give the Maester a look, questioning. Wanting more information about her condition when it was he who was half dead. And it was truly just a few scrapes and bruises, covering the broken and fractured bones, muscle damage, and ruined nerves. If she wanted him to know the extent of her injuries, while he should be focusing on his own wounds and recovery, then she would bloody well tell him herself without a Maester hovering over the two of them. "I already told you, I'll be fine."

"I would assume so, though I have been spending most of my time here making sure you weren't going to die. Valarr will be able to sing to you his song, Valarr and his Golden Fingers." She encouraged the change of topics, snickering as she spoke of her husbands twin. "They had placed us in cots close to one another while we were healing, so naturally we are the best of friends and shall go on exciting adventures with one another. I believe Valarr and I are going to tour the brothels of Kings Landing once we return." Ysera stated with a mischevious twist in her lips and laughter in her dark eyes, expecting to watch her husbands features to twist up in horror at the thought. While it was true Ysera enjoyed her goodbrothers company, there was no tour of the brothels planned for their future as of yet but it was entertaining to think of her husbands reaction. She joined in his laughter with a few chuckles, mindful of her mending ribs.

At least he was taking his near death in good spirits.

But then came his words, of her being in charge of the Tower and able to find herself a new husband, and Ysera gave him a puzzled look. After all, since they had no heirs yet, it was only logical for the Targaryens to place another Targaryen into the Tower should Matary have died in this war while Ysera would've found herself back in Kingsgrave. "I would think your father would give to Tower to Aelix should that had been the outcome of this war." She said, but the wheels in her head were turning as she thought it over. While Aelix would most likely get the Tower, Ysera would ask for the young Targaryen twins be sent to the Tower with her to watch over them. To allow Dorne to watch over the girls, witness them bloom and grow, and allow Dorne to fall in love with them. "Though luckily, we've both survived this."
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MATARYS TARGARYEN
 Posted: Apr 9 2018, 06:21 PM
Quote
quetzal is Offline
20 years old
DORNE
targaryen
targaryen
the tower of joy
prince


Matarys understood her. Of course he did - had he not fought for the very same reasons? He was confident Ysera likewise understood his position. It seemed her idea of where to draw the line with risk was different to his. Frustrating as it was to not dive head-first under enemy fire to feel you did something, to show your friends, family, and kingdom you stood for them, in his eyes her loss would have such a greater impact than her contribution to the war it wasn't worth it. Not just because it would genuinely upset him to lose her, but because of all the political troubles with another Targaryen losing another Dornish woman. Should she die or suffer serious injury, he would have been blamed for not keeping her out of danger, and he suspected had he not relented and let her accompany him to war they would have scolded him for restricting her freedom. He wondered if he would ever adjust to the Dornish way of viewing women; that they were to be treated as men. It was against the laws of his father, what he had been raised believing. It would take a lot more to convince him Dorne was right, but Ysera standing here before him was proving they had a point.

She always had to pretend nothing was wrong with her, though, which did lose her some credibility. The maester awkwardly cast his gaze down from Matarys' questioning eyes, afraid to invoke the wrath of the woman gaining a reputation for her fiery temper since her entering the public's close attention. Matarys thought he could wrangle an answer by pulling rank, but did not want to force the poor man to be the focus of an argument. Nor did he feel like arguing. He gave Ysera a look with one raised eyebrow clearly doubting her statement. Plainly she would recover, but she wouldn't have been given a bed here had she not been significantly wounded. His throat was too dry to waste the breath starting arguments, and he was too tired. Treading carefully around fights was so difficult. He was desperate to dispute almost everything she said, so different were their opinions. No wonder they always fought.

"I'm glad. Family must grow close," he felt a sense of satisfaction thinking of how Ysera was always forming stronger bonds to his family. She would never be as close as some of the Targaryens were to each other, but she had made herself a solid presence. He also knew Valarr too well to fall for any trap, and saw the mirth in her eyes. He laughed instead of showing any trace of upset. It wasn't past Valarr to actually take her to brothels, but even then it would still be a joke to him. Regardless of how many others found it funny, he would think it hilarious. "Some of humour's rubbed off on you, then. Before you know it he actually will be dragging you to all sorts of places. Gods know he did that to me. No one can make me uncomfortable quite like him, and he always somehow gets you to have fun. You two enjoy those brothels, he should know them well enough to only take you to the finest." The jab at his twin was not malicious, fully aware it was completely untrue given Valarr's current situation.

He hesitated. "To be honest, I always thought Aelix was meant for the Kingsguard. Perhaps he would take the Tower instead. Certainly one of Aegon's younger children, or my baby sisters. In the meantime, I don't see why my father wouldn't let you stay there if you so wished." Dealing with widows or widowers was not something he had seen much to know the process. If he were to handle it, the bereaved would be treated with utmost respect and given a strong say in disputed possessions. Their spouse's family should make sure they were well provided for. What would be said if the King abandoned his dead son's wife?

As she said, that had not happened. He needn't think about it. Even if it did happen, there was nothing a dead man could do. "Yes. We survived. You even survived the further torment of being forced to stay near Valarr for days, while my only company was... well, if we can survive that, we can get through anything." He almost said "my only company was my dragon" then immediately stopped himself. He wasn't sure she was ready to hear all that. There would never be an easy way to breach the subject of his being what she might regard a freak or something he'd made up, but now was not that time. "There can't be much worse now, can there? Politics to sort out by people who aren't us. Then back to the Tower, aiding Dorne and the crown, raising children." Even as he said it he knew there would be dozens more conflicts in their lifetimes. People were always getting angry about something or other. But that was the life he wanted to lead.
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YSERA TARGARYEN
 Posted: May 6 2018, 01:40 AM
Quote
KP is Offline
19 years old
DORNE
Targaryen
Manwoody
Dorne
Princess


That raised brow made her blood roar, for it was clear to all that he was doubting her statement, and she had to fight herself to keep her mouth shut. While it was not always pleasurable to fight and argue with her husband, Ysera did enjoy it when she saw that flicker of fire in her husbands eyes as they fought. Proof that her husband was not all ice and winter, but truly had the blood and fire of a dragon in his veins. So perhaps she provoked him now and then, but at this current moment she realized was not the right time. She had been greatly injured and he had nearly died and still had a Maester fretting over him. She could still hear the moans and cries of the dying in her ears. And so she swallowed her words, visibly fighting herself to keep the peace.

Family must grow close, and at his words her lips twitched and there was a hint of laughter and mild annoyance hand in hand as her gaze flickered to the opening of the tent that housed her husband. "Now that the war is over, it'll give us plenty of time to spend with our families. You can get to spend more time with my brothers, and I can get to know all of your siblings, though there are a great many of them." Ysera murmured in agreement, before smirking. "Mor's can't wait to spend more time with you." It was no secret how Ysera's eldest brother drove Ysera mad, with his Northern ambitions and arrogance, and how it was he who had finalized Ysera's betrothal to Matary and strutted around for months afterwards. This is not to say he was a bad man, for Mors was an intelligent man who cared for his younger siblings deeply. It was just a difference of personality types between siblings, which may be why Mors was so excited to get to spend time with Matarys.

When Matary laughed, he didn't look as though he had been at the Strangers door. And it appeared as though the thought of his wife and his twin brother going to various brothels was not as terrifying as she had believed it would be. That, or he had harmed his head more so than they all believed. Course, what stood out to her as Matarys spoke was him mentioning that Valarr had taken Matarys to places, possibly inferring brothels. "He's taken you to brothels?" She questioned, honestly curious to hear if her husband has been holding out on her. She had been quite sure that her husband had been a virgin when they had wedded, but maybe she had been wrong in this observation. "Perhaps it should be you, my dear husband, showing me instead." Her smile turned coy, dark eyes flashing mischievously. "I would hate to think that you've been holding out of me."

Ysera conceded that it would make sense for Aelix to join the Kingsguard, for as of this war she had not heard one whisper of a betrothal for the youngest son of Rhaegar Targaryen. She had only met with him in passing, and he had seemed.....

Well, perhaps it was for the best for him to join the Kingsguard.

But it was true. They were both safe, alive and all in one piece, and the fighting was over. "Valarr and Mors," She stressed, for having been confined to a bed had resulted in no means to escape Mors and his inability to keep quiet. She had nearly asked Valarr to cut her ears off, just so she wouldn't have to listen to her eldest brother anymore. Then again, he had snuck her the small text that she had been reading to keep her entertained while Matarys had rested. "From all we've endured, we are most definitely needing a rest from it all. Surely they won't need us at Court anymore, and we can quite possibly escape back to our Tower of Joy without any notice." This was something they could agree on, to allow those who wanted to be at court and handle the politics of the realm to do just that, while they would be back where they belonged. In Dorne. And in hearing him actually say it, in putting Dorne before the crown, made her expression soften and took the edge out of her smile. "That would be.." Ysera trailed off, thinking of the right words. "I would like that."

She let the moment that fell upon them stay, matching his gaze as though any moment they would go white as they have been during his worst. And thankfully, with the war ending, she won't have to lock him up to keep him safe from harm. Though she soon broke it, for she felt the need to catch him up to speed on what was happening to the rest of the world while he had been unconscious. "They say they caught the dwarf alive, and that your fathers new bride own guard took the life of her father."
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