Dream Of Winter | C. Stark & H. Targaryen

Ivory Tower

Lyonal POV

Prince Daeron, attired in regal garments, stands at the entrance of the Red Keep, apparently eagerly awaiting his arrival. The sun casts a warm glow over the courtyard as Lyonal's carriage draws near, a preeminent heral. The two cousins have not seen each other in a year, so an appropriate layer of excitement is added to their reunion.

"Lyonal! It has been far too long. Welcome to the Red Keep!"

The heir to Oldtown steps out of the carriage, the blazing tower sigil proudly displayed on his chest. He hastens toward Daeron, and they embrace in a warm hug, exchanging enthusiastic greetings.

"Daeron! It feels like an eternity since our last meeting. You truly look every inch the prince."

"And you, Lyonal, possess the bearing of a distinguished knight. Come, let us catch up inside. There is much to discuss."

They stride side by side into the grand entrance hall of the Red Keep, where servants bustle about, diligently fulfilling their tasks. He makes a habit of observing his surroundings carefully. The infamous cesspool of lies a deceit that is the capital intrigues him exceedingly.

"The preparations for my wedding are in full swing. In just a month, I am to wed Lady Ellyn Baratheon. The arrangements have proven demanding, but I am eager for this union."

"I should hope so. You've been besotted with the girl as far as I can remember. And it's a formidable match indeed. House Baratheon's strength and heritage are renowned. I trust this marriage will bring honor and prosperity to House Targaryen.

The dragon-rider chuckles playfully, "Indeed beyond politics and strategically advantageous alliances, I hope for a genuine connection with Ellyn. Love in a marriage is a rare treasure, and I am hopeful that we may uncover it."

Love in the game of the thrones. A fanciful illusion masqueraded as the rule. His idealistic brother-in-arms may be one of the few deserving of such a reward.

"A noble aspiration, cousin. May the Seven grant you a deep and lasting bond. Tell me, how have you found the preparations? Is everything proceeding smoothly?"

Daeron smilied wryly, as if sensing his skepticism, "Smoothly, for the most part. You know how these affairs can be. There have been countless meetings with the small council. It's a delicate dance, ensuring that all alliances and expectations are upheld."

Politics and state craft are a Hightower's bread and butter. Whether through alliances and marriages or prestigious positions in the Citadel or the Starry Sept. One way or another, the Realm is guided by their gentle steering.

"Ah, intricate and demanding matters, no doubt. But you have always possessed the skill to navigate them with finesse. And your time with us sharpened whatever weak points you could've had."

Daeron's expression softens momentarily, a mix of pride and sadness.

"Thank you, Lyonal. I strive to serve House Targaryen with every tool in my disposable. But enough about me. How have the affairs of House Hightower been faring?"

"House Hightower stands strong, Daeron. We have expanded our trade routes and strengthened our ties with other noble houses, including House Martell of Dorne. Though I suspect her grace the Queen's diplomatic efforts have aided us in that arena. Our naval fleet continues to grow, and the Hightower remains a beacon of power in the Reach."

The center of knowledge, arts and faith in Westeros is their domain. Their own blood sits the Throne. How can they can anything less than excellent?

"I am pleased to hear it, Lyonal. The Crown has always valued the support and friendship of House Hightower. Our family can weather any storm that comes our way."