ALEA TARGARYEN doesn't have a custom title currently.
Location: No Information
Born: 15 June 1991
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Sworn To: House Targaryen
Born to: Lannister
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Joined: 17-December 15
Last Seen: Yesterday at 10:35 pm
Local Time: Jul 17 2018, 01:20 AM
101 posts (0.1 per day)
( 0.91% of total forum posts )
May 10 2018, 02:37 AM
It was the early hours of the evening when the small boy was sent running to the Princess's apartments. He was a young thing, with stringy hair that was pushed back behind his ears and wore a simple tunic. She realized he was a kitchen boy, and she had frowned at his first appearance since she had not ordered anything from the kitchens. Alea had been sitting in her chambers, writing another letter back to Summerhall and new instructions on how matters now that Valarr was even more indisposed. She had ravens coming daily and while she was at Court, she still had matters to deal with back at home. Farmers who held disputes held off for weeks while their rulers were gone, merchants who wanted to set up shops or lords who were waiting for their lords to return so they could pledge loyalty or gain favor. It was so long sense Alea had been home she almost forgot what Summerhall looked like. How did it look now that winter had come and was frosting everything? Even as she dressed warmly in thick velvet and a cloak, there was a hint of a chill that could sneak up in her bones.
But the young boy didn't seem bothered by the cold though as he came in quickly. He seemed a little out of breath, but as he stood straight, Alea stood up in alarm. What could be so important that he couldn't quickly come here - but rather run as fast as his eleven-year-old feet could carry him?
"The Maester Pycell said that His Royal Highness is ready to receive you. Not any other visitors, just you, your Highness."
Alea's heart stopped in her chest and she rose from her chair, her letter to her steward left on her desk as she put her pen away, and she gave the letter to one of her servants to save for later. Alea nodded to the boy as she quickly left the room, purple eyes bright as she moved swiftly down the halls, her ladies trailing after her until she reached her husband's room. She felt her stomach twist at the sight of the guards who had held her off for so long. Now, however, they stepped aside as Princess Alea moved forward and pressed the door open with a careful hand, coming into an oppressively warm room. The fires were burning brightly, the curtains were drawn, and there was the smell of old must, sweat, and blood. A single window had been opened on the opposite side of the room to let in fresh air but not too much, and Alea welcomed the cooling breeze in the stuffy room as she entered. The boy remained outside and Alea saw the old Maester rise from his bow to the Princess. He rose, and his eyes shifted between the bed, that housed her husband and the Princess.
"Please keep the visit short, Your Highness. The prince is still weak, but he is much better then he was when he returned to us." He stated before Alea nodded simply to him and he left the pair alone.
Alea wasted no time in leaving her cloak at the door and coming beside Valarr. Her hands shook a little as she didn't bother sitting in the chair that had been set for her, but rather on the bed beside him. "Oh, Valarr." She whispered as she looked at him and swiftly took a hand, bringing it to her lips to kiss.
"You had me worried so much. They wouldn't let me through the doors to see you. How are you?" She inquired, her eyes wide as she looked at him and pushed some of his hair with shaking fingers away from his face. How long had she waited to be with him? Longer than she wanted. Especially once she confronted both Allara about her bastard and Rhaegar about...everything. She had thought that she might get to see Valarr not long after that, but it was over a month that he was locked away in this room. So much had happened.
"I know I must be careful with you. Forgive me if I am too eager. I have been so worried - deathly worried- about your recovery." She said, her eyes eager to look upon his face and drink him in, to be the wife she was denied being for months.
Feb 13 2018, 02:19 AM
[Set in 300 AC, before Alea moved to Summerhall, before her wedding to Valarr]
It was a beautiful evening. The moon had appeared in the sky but the sun hadn't quite set yet, the sky a beautiful shifting shade of purple, red and yellows. The halls were quiet as always, except for the steps of the servants and the swish of expensive fabric on the floor. The steps were quick as they headed down the many stairs to below, to where the kitchen and other staff were cleaning up for the night, and sending out meals and preparing wine in jugs for the rest of the Lannisters that would call for it. But it was fairly empty, save for a few figures drifting around the place.
The swishing of expensive fabric and skirts, mixed with small heels clicked down the stone steps and a golden head peered around the corner. a swirling shift of pale purple and grey followed after her as she walked into the kitchen and headed towards the strong looking man who stood by the fire as he finished telling a few boys to take the scraps out to the pigs for feeding. He was strong and intimidating, but Cook Boyde was more than that - he was an artist and proud of his work and loyal to the Lannisters. He was bald, with a singed blond beard and matching bushy eyebrows. "And don't give any of those scraps to the Black and white one! We are slaughtering him tomorrow!" He shouted after the boys before the pale swirls of fabric caught his eyes and he whirled around to look into the equally purple eyes of Alea Lannister staring up at him.
"Hello, Boyde." She said with a grin on her lips, and his eyes set hard and his arms crossed. "Lady Alea," He sighed, shaking his head. "You know you shouldn't be down here. His Grace doesn't like his family down here." He stated firmly, eyes not moving from Alea and she only looked at him with her shining eyes, full of life and mischief at the same time.
"I know, but I was hoping for some Lavender Cakes. I know you have some set aside for the guests in a few days - I was hoping I might have a few tonight? And a jug of Rose wine.' She said with a grin at him, and she could see the resolve crumbling before her eyes. He sighed deeply, and Alea stepped forward with a tiny step. "I wish to savor what I can - Please, Boyde?"
The tall man sighed deeply, and nodded, turning his back to her. "Alright, but you stay down here to finish it - I don't need his grace knowing you were wondering around with wine and cake." He knew how sweet her tooth had become since her impending betrothal. She always seemed to be asking for something with honey in it. Now was no exception. "I hope it is only you two tonight. I don't need anyone else coming down here."
Alea blinked. Anyone else? She turned her head and a grin crossed her lips as she saw a golden head at one of the tables with a goblet of wine nestled in his hand and a jug beside him. Tyrion. She hadn't seen her half-brother for some time - he always seemed to be hiding away, and she was the one to go search him out. But he had always been a comforting presence - one that fed her craving for knowledge and stories. Alea knew very few people who she thought were as intelligent and witty as him. Even if no one would ever admit it, least of all himself.
She moved over to him with a spring in her step and she settled beside him on the bench. "I had wondered where you have been. I should have guessed you might be down here. I'm glad I didn't have to look for you when we have guests - I don't know if I would have seen you before I left."
Aleas words reminded her that in a few weeks time she would leave with the Targaryens and leave for the Red Keep, before traveling to the Stormlands with Valarr where she would be married and become a Princess. She looked forward to the journey but was fearful of the future and the responsibilities she would soon have.
"Will you have a Lavender Cake with me? I am sure that Boyde wouldn't mind sharing. Besides - who knows when we will have more of these talks. You are coming with me to Summerhall, aren't you?" Her eyes shifted from Boyde who brought over the cakes and jug of wine before setting a goblet before her and poured her only a little bit, before her eyes turned back towards Tyrion once more.
Jan 27 2018, 01:36 AM
The young servant who was hurrying down the hall towards the young woman as she headed towards one of the apartments to clean would normally know better. A servant never would bring attention to herself, or even call out to another like this. But when Sara had been down in the kitchen, the most peculiar experience occurred, one to cause the servants' heart to stop and hurry to find the young woman.
Sara had been mending clothes when a figure dressed in black with hair like golden silk had headed down to the servants quarters. Everyone rose quickly and curtsied, as one of the other servants, fearfully, took her down into a room where Allara was staying. The room's air was sucked out as everyone inhaled sharply at the sound of a small baby crying, and the Princess stared into the room and walked in slowly. "You may leave." She had said, and the door was shut behind her. Sara had dropped everything to hurry out, knowing that Allara had gone to change the linens in some of the royal apartments.
"Allara-" Sara panted as she came to the young woman, eyes wide. "Its Duncan-" She started, gripping her arm. "Princess Alea is with him now."
When Alea had seen Allara entering Valarr's room, her body slim and devoid of the round stomach she had months previously, Alea knew that she had had the baby. The little thing that had come into her world as an upstart, taking away the chance of giving Valarr his firstborn child. A son, no less. Alea had walked in slowly, moving towards the baby's crib and looked inside. Her heart twisted in her chest sharply, and she reached down and gently touched the cheek with a small finger. Her eyes softened as she reached inside, pulling them out and opening the cloth, looking down at the baby, noticing everything about them. Valarr and Allara had created a beautiful baby boy. Alea bit back a tear as she swaddled him back and held him gently in her arms. The door was opened because Alea was very aware that someone would be running to reach Allara.
Because a Lannister obviously couldn't be trusted with a bastard.
But Alea wasn't a Lannister anymore. She was a dragon, and she was not her sister. Alea held the babe in her arms and she sat in the rocking chair that was provided in the room, her arms holding the babe so gently and carefully, rocking and she began to hum quietly to the babe.
She could hear the quickening footsteps and she didn't look up once she felt the presence in the door. She hummed quietly, her fingers moving to pull the blanket back from the baby's face. "Close the door, will you, Allara?" She asked, not looking up.
To the outsider, it was very obvious to see that Alea was meant for motherhood. She held the baby just perfectly, and with the gentle look of longing in her face, it was clear to see that Alea wanted nothing more than for the baby in her arms to be hers.
"He is beautiful." she said quietly, rocking in the chair before her purple gaze finally looked up at the mother of the boy. Alea's eyes had never looked so brilliant, and yet so sad.
"What have you named him?" she asked, symantics really. She knew the name of the baby, but she wanted to hear it from Allara. "I was surprised that I had to see you with my own eyes before I heard you gave birth. Once again, it seems, news of great magnitude failed to reach me."
Jan 26 2018, 02:19 PM
His Highness is too sick to be seen, Your Highness. He will not keep down food or water, and we fear that he may be contagious. Only a few Maesters are allowed to see him. I'm sorry - We can't put your life at risk to see him. " DRESS
It has been the same fight that Alea had been having for days now. Ever since Valarr had returned from the war he had been quarantined away from everyone else. She desperately wished to see him - had tried to have guards moved and force her way into his rooms - but she had been bared at every turn. No matter how much emotion she showed or tears she shed or forcefulness she attempted to show, nothing worked. She was barred from her husband.
Princess Alea was more worried about her husband than any of her other good-siblings, or even her king. She knew that Valarr wouldn't want her to see him in such a state - which was perhaps the entire reason he had barred her from seeing him. She would have perhaps been clammier if she knew who else was barred from him, or if she didn't know who wasn't. Because once she knew who was allowed to see her husband, Alea felt the rage boiling inside her chest in a way that hadn't been experienced since she discovered that Tyrion was responsible for her father's death.
Alea would wake and have breakfast before going down and attempting to see her husband, waiting outside his doors or in a nearby room to receive word of his recovery. She had done this for days. Alea, tired and anxious, had been exiting the study nearby when she saw a servant carrying a bowl into Valarr's sick room. Last time she had seen her, she had been eight months pregnant. Now, slim and back to her old self, Allara had snuck herself under the guise of a simple maidservant into her husband rooms, where Alea wasn't allowed to follow. Rage boiled inside her chest at the realization that not only had she given birth and had not been told, but Val's whore had now taken her position back as a maidservant and was working in the castle - able to sneak in and see her husband to once again grip his heart in her hand.
Alea's eyes were burning as she witnessed Allara leave into Valarr's room. She was swift to move to the door, where she was once again halted by the guards. Sympathetic eyes looked down at her and Alea felt the hurt and anger once more swell in her breast like a raging torrent. "Am I to understand that the servant girl may enter into my husband's room, but I may not be by his side as he heals?" she demanded, before the guards, hesitantly, looked to one another. They were doing their orders, and who would expect a servant of anything but just doing their job?
Alea whirled from them, eyes fixed ahead as her own guards followed after her. If she was going to be barred by her husband's maesters than she would go to the person who they bowed to.
She was swift, her heeled boots clicking against the ground in such a steady and sure manner that others could hear them as she approached. People parted as a flurry of crimson red and black night fluttered around the Joy of the West, her hair long and lose, flying behind her like a golden wave as she approached the apartments of the king. She looked at the guards who stood there, his guard ready and protective of their king.
"I must speak to His Majesty. Please let him know its urgent." She said, her voice sure, but still held the gentle notes that Alea always had. Their princess always had been a sweet and gentle soul, so to see her in any other sort of state was unlike her. One of the guards entered the apartment and pulled aside one of the boys to inform the King that the Princess Alea had arrived and needed to speak with him urgently.
Alea was impatient but poised as she stood outside the door of the King's rooms, before the door opened and she was allowed entrance. She waved off her own guard, leaving them outside with the others as she entered into the room, and, upon seeing the king, moved deeply into a curtsy before him, her eyes downcast, afraid that they might be red from tears. She was also worried about the wound she had suffered while the royal family had been across the sea. Her cheek was still tender, yellowing bruises across the high point of her left cheek and slightly above into her eyebrow, her lip had healed, and there was a faint mark along the lower right side. Her nose had been sparred any sort of outward damage that could be seen, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt every so often. But had a lesser man seen her, it would have been assumed that she was beaten by her husband. If only they knew that it was her heart, not her body, that was hurt by him.
"Forgive my intrusion, Your Majesty. I would not bring you my problems if I could help it. I have no one else to turn to." She said, her eyes filling with tears as she gently reached a hand to wipe them away and she looked up at him, her hair falling in a graceful curtain on either side of her face. Even though she felt ready to burst, she still looked radiant and lovely as her title of Joy of the West would suggest. "I am in need of your help and advice." her breath caught in her throat, choking down more emotions that threatened to reveal themselves.
Nov 16 2017, 07:54 PM
I know it seems like "Solace is leaving us AGAIN?" well...yes. I am. Just for a week.
I will be driving with one dearest friend to Arizona for Thanksgiving with the Grandmother, and my folks, and some friends. The Internet is terrible there, and also, last time I was with my family and my grandmother it was a shit show. I'm making sure that there isn't a v.2 of that experience.
So I'm probably not going to be touching my computer for a week, from Monday the 20th until Saturday the 25th (when I return).
I will be handwriting some replies, though, to keep my mind going and so I don't go completely insane.
I will be snap-chatting a lot. look for me there.
Don't miss me too much <3 Love you bunches. See you soon
This effects Alea Targaryen, Beth Cassel and Mellario Martell