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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 Posted: Jan 9 2018, 06:57 AM
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years old

prince aelix targaryen18 years old. deputy warden of the kingswood. austin butler.E.F. 26. pacific. pm.Shit. Sorry everyone. Work's been a bitch. I will have Aelix done by this weekend. Sorry for taking so long. I figured I'd have it done in a day, but my office has been swarmed and the weather hasn't helped matters either, what with losing power at random moments. Lol. What can you do? That's winter for you! Aelix Targaryen is a collection of memories, but very few of them are his own. He’s constructed out of fragments of old ghosts – a tiny sliver here, a little piece of something (someone) else there – all thrown together from everyone else's recollections: and then time has sewn all the pieces together, stitching Aelix together much akin to a puppet. A walking puppet, stuffed with ash and smoke. He's always shambling towards whatever force is stronger: towards whatever master controls his strings that day. For Aelix, that changes often.First, it’s his dear, beautiful, perfect mother ... and then it’s not. He's too difficult, they say, too wild and needy. Mother had other duties to attend, but sometimes she would leave Muna behind to keep him company. See? he would say to no one. Mother did love him. Then it’s Rhaegar, until it isn’t – Kings are too busy to be a father to a child with no sense of self-control or self-direction. And then his siblings pass him around between on another like a threadbare doll until they grew bored or busy or frustrated with him. Finally, finally, it’s Barristan Selmy, and only Barristan Selmy. Aelix hates the man and he loves the man, because Barristan doesn’t abandon him. Doesn’t get bored, doesn’t throw him away. He just hits Aelix harder and then tells him to get off his ass.Aelix only briefly considered demanding another teacher, but discarded that thought fast as it appeared. There is no one better. Besides, the prince realizes quickly enough that he has backed himself into a corner. There is no one else and there is no where else to go. Caged animals claw at limbs, you know? Chewing through flesh when they have nowhere to turn. Such is the legacy of the Targaryen dynasty; the family curse. Crick, crack, there's bones breaking between his teeth. Fire and smoke and ash fear and rage. When lives are handed down by fate, personal responsibility becomes a foreign concept. Personal anything is foreign to Aelix, except for the rage. He's always had that.The anger feels like it's been there forever. He thinks it has sustained him through his youth and now into young-adulthood. Crossing the ice with fire in his belly. But Aelix also loves with a wonderful, terrible completeness - yes, he has been uncontrollable and vicious and cruel, but he, too, has blushed at the mere thought of a pretty girl looking his way. Sometimes he wonders if some of this fury is eating him from the inside-out, hollowing out his body beneath those muscles taught as harp strings under skin pale as the snow of the North. He hopes that isn't the case, but he doesn't know, and no one else seems to either. It’s just another grievance in a long list of grievances he holds against his family.Aelix Targaryen is born into a legacy of dragons and wolves, but somehow it all seems too big for him. Time strips him of everything, except his name, and so far he feels like a boy in a man’s body, like he's wearing an ill-fitting suit of armor; always uncomfortable in his own skin, always miserable. Always, he’s choking on ash so thick that he can hardly remember how to breathe.You have everything, everyone tells him, but he doesn’t. He has it all in the technical sense, but those things he has aren’t really his. Not really a part of Aelix. Everything they give him is owned by old ghosts – the ghost of his grandfather, the ghost of his mother, the ghosts of all the Targaryens and Starks who've died over the years, the ghosts of wars gone wrong, wrong, wrong – and whenever someone speaks about him, it’s always with an addendum. He's the addition to the base. Aelix, youngest son of Rhaegar and Lyanna. Aelix, grandson of the Mad King. Aelix, brother to the future King and future Queen. Aelix, youngest brother to all the pretty, pretty Targaryen princes and princesses.Beggars can’t be choosers, he understands. No one loves Aelix for being Aelix. He’s too difficult, too strange, too much like a horrible history lesson no one wants to remember.
Note to self: Make this awesome.... please.
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