NOTHING BURNS LIKE THE COLD — TSUBODAI

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  • [center][fancypost= width: 450px; text-align: justify;][size=11][font=timesnewroman]Sweetophelia was sitting on a smooth slab of stone peeking out from the borders of BlizzardClan's vast territory, a neutral, almost bored expression etched across her facial features. But the BlizzardClan leader was far from bored. Just earlier that day she had received news that her eldest son, her pride and joy, had been murdered in his own throne room with no one to be blamed in sight. Her mouth tightened, her jaw clenching in silent anger. She would have to return to King's Landing for his funeral later, but admittedly Sweetophelia was very reluctant on the idea of returning to Westeros - even for a short while - now that Jaehaerys was no longer king.


    She had barely tolerated the Seven Kingdoms before his ascension, and now that he was gone - murdered in very suspicious circumstances, she could not help but be drawn towards conspiracy theories. But of course she could never admit that aloud - as a grieving mother, she would no doubt be accused of hysteria or desperation. But still, the hurt and anger remained. Someone needed to pay - and the BlizzardClan leader would only be satisfied with a generous payment in blood.
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    [size=12]Of course, he kept tabs on what was happening in Westeros. Jaehaerys was doing so well and he was obviously interested in what direction his son would take their family's birthright. Tsubodai had in fact been very pleased when Jaehaerys had offered missives that made the seven kingdoms more warlike. Despite the fact that he had been exiled from there, Tsubodai was still quite invested in what was his. And Westeros was meant to be his.


    The news that Jaehaerys had been killed shocked him when he had heard it.


    How long had he ruled? Not so long enough to bring Westeros to what it could've been under the new Targaryen reign. Tsubodai had not been happy of course and he was half tempted to sweep into the Seven Kingdoms and tear through the land until he found who had his son murdered. Who had killed his son.


    But that was unwise.


    Instead he brooded in his lonely home in the north, surrounded by nothing but stone and ice and the cold.


    Sweetophelia would hear, too. He knew that she was quite emotionally invested in the twins and Jaehaerys' death would've wounded her grievously. The black dragon was currently flying over BlizzardClan territory, not caring for anonymity or discretion. It didn't take him long to spy a lone figure by the borders. There she was--his sister and former lover.


    Heavy wingbeats would fill the air as he descended in the flat patch of land in front of the feline. "Do you think it was the Lynderly?" he offered with a small snort, not even offering a greeting.

  • [center][fancypost= width: 450px; text-align: justify;][size=11][font=timesnewroman]Sweetophelia sighed heavily as Tsubodai approached, turning to face him only when he had spoken. The BlizzardClan leader considered his words for a long moment, even though she had already long dwelled on the question and had since come to her own answer. "Of course, I do," she admitted, her voice hard. "He has more to gain than anyone else. But I have no solid evidence." Because even despite all of Sweetophelia's anger and grief, she was not inclined towards making a politically unsound action such as an accusation without proof, justification. To any other animal, she might simply appear only as a crazed, grieving mother. It was not an image of pitifulness and helplessness she wanted to encourage.
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