Posts by LAURENT

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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; letter-spacing:3px][color=paleblue][sub][font=arial]"Of the Reach."[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px][hr][glow=black,2,300][color=black][font=georgia][size=26pt]Ceryse Hightower[hr][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; letter-spacing:3px][color=paleblue][sub][font=arial]"Since the Age of Dawn."[/fancypost]

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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]The Hightowers were amongst the oldest and largest houses in the history of Westeros and they had commanded greater influence and respect in the past. However they weren't counted among the Great Houses because they themselves were vassals to house Tyrell, the ruling house of the Reach, and before they were sworn to the extinct House Gardener. But they did command Oldtown - the second largest city in Westeros after only King's Landing - and they had their own vassals sworn to their name.

They weren't a house to be overlooked, even if their front had been quiet in the past decades. Ceryse Hightower wasn't exactly looking to change that - she wasn't a daring social climber willing to risk the stability of her house and its people, be they smallfolk or nobility - but she was looking to reinforce her house's standing amongst the other acknowledged houses of Westeros and this would be the start. So, she had ventured out to King's Landing to swear fealty to the newly proclaimed High King.

Her dark brown hair styled in the Southern fashion - as befitting of her heritage - and dressed in white fabrics, she approached the steps leading up to the Red Keep. Her face was locked in an impassive expression and her family's ancestral weapon, the Valyrian blade, Vigilance, attached to the belt resting above her hip, she stood there waiting. The High King Jaehaerys Targaryen would be expecting her arrival - as she had sent word by raven - but nonetheless her heart rested uneasily in her chest.

She had not traveled to court even once by her mother's will, especially not after the fates of the former High Queen Lorina and her heir apparent, the Crown Prince Vienna Targaryen. But the young woman was here now, and she had brought her acknowledged bastard brother, Verlin Flowers, in tow as an audience (whom she knew she had the personal support of) to her pledge of loyalty to her new sovereign. It was her duty as the head of House Hightower.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]Baratheon. Ceryse paused at the realisation. The Baratheon house was being revived? The Hightower part of her heart disliked the notion of a potential reformation for major houses (it was competition at the expense of the Hightowers' well-being), and the Targaryen part of her (that went by unacknowledged by herself and others) was wary at the prospect of Baratheons. The last High King of the original Targaryen dynasty had been displaced by a Baratheon usurper, and it had been the same fate seen by the more recent High Queen Lorina Targaryen. Would the same befall Jaehaerys or his descendants? But that wasn't her concern. She wasn't a Targaryen.

"Congratulations," the leucistic wild-cat shrugged casually, approaching the scene after Daresso Uller. "I suppose by default you would naturally be the head of house Baratheon." But would they be acknowledged as an official house? She wasn't sure what Jaehaerys Targaryen's opinion would be - house Baratheon had not yet been striped of their official status, but before Icarus had pledged his loyalty this day, they like many others had sat empty for stretches at a time. "Perhaps the High King will now grace you with his acknowledgement," she remarked with little irony.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]House Stark. First, it was House Baratheon and now it was House Stark? Would she see House Tyrell next? House Arryn? The four major houses were the go-to choices for any green foreigner stepping foot onto Westerosi soil. The only great houses that seemed uncertain were House Tully, House Martell, and House Greyjoy. The Lord of the Riverlands had sat quiet and unassuming for decades in the grand scheme of the political games waged by Westerosi lords, meanwhile House Martell had detached itself from the rest of the realms during the start of the High Queen Jocelyn Baratheon's reign and had yet to be towed back, and House Greyjoy had just recently been drove off the Iron Throne which they had tried to claim for themselves.

The reemergence... was concerning. All Ceryse Hightower desired was stability, for herself, her house, and their vassals - from the minor noble houses pledged to them to the poorest Smallfolk living in Oldtown. But perhaps she ought to be optimistic - or at least hope for the virtue. Approaching after Daresso Uller now, her expression remained carefully placid as she looked over at the returning Stark. A child of Shira Stark perhaps? Or some other relative? "I am Ceryse Hightower," the pale-spotted serval offered up a fleeting smile. "Welcome back." She wondered how he had acquired his clan name. The rest of the Westerosi she had encountered thus far followed the traditional naming conventions of the land.

//ninja'ed gosh darn it pax
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]"Thank you, your Grace," Ceryse answered slowly, her pale green eyes running over Jaehaerys' imposing form in quick assessment. If ill-contrived rumours were to be believed, they were cousins (twice) - seeing as Vienna had been a full-blooded brother to Tsubodai and a half-brother to Sweetophelia. She didn't feel much familial love for the newly proclaimed Protector of the Realm now however, but instead a quiet wariness. He was already proving to be more adept, prudent, and plainly more clever than most of the monarchs that had preceded him, but those traits did not necessarily translate into gentleness. Most sovereigns started off well-praised. Even his aunt, the former High Queen Lorina Targaryen, had been cheered as her mother's, Eurydice Targaryen, great pride. Now the last ruler of the second Targaryen dynasty was remembered for a misunderstood desire to improve the statuses of all Westerosi, but perhaps Ceryse had more sympathy for the deposed monarch than most.

She was surprised when Jaehaerys offered her a hand to shake but she accepted it, shook it gently for a few seconds before immediately returning her hand to its place at the side of her hip. She took a knee then - a curtsey only felt appropriate when she was a woman first and not a noble - and lowered her steady gaze. "My father, Gerold Hightower, died fighting in your rebellion - an honourable end for a man devoted to justice." Even if her family had always been more inclined towards monetary enterprises and religion. "As his heir, I am the head of House Hightower now, and I've come to personally profess my fealty to you." Her eyes remained fixed at a point near their feet. "I swear by the Old Gods and the New that you have the loyalty and support of myself and my house - in good or bad times."
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]Ceryse Hightower approached, looking on silently. She had never ventured to King's Landing before - while her mother had lived, Genna had always preferred to keep her from the toxic courts - and her father, Gerold anyways, had preferred to treat her from a distance. Both were gone now and she was the head of House Hightower, so Ceryse felt justified in acting how she pleased - within reasonable limits obviously.

As for the three new members - the Hightower recognised Stormflurry's and Icarus' names but not Soren. The rank changes were also pretty minor and so Ceryse didn't have much of a strong opinion and instead chose to listen on as Jaehaerys promoted his first-cousin-once-removed and his half-sister to the positions of knights. Then he asked Oliver Stark to step forward, evidently to receive a new title.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]Ceryse Hightower approached, looking over the young pup curiously. If she had been asked to wager a guess, she would have sooner suspected that he harboured Northern descent through the Stark bloodlines than the Baratheon house of the Stormlands. But she had not been pushed towards doing so and for now Ceryse only regarded Percy as a foreigner - a very young and seemingly lost foreigner. Because he didn't carry the scents of any other clans, the young Hightower could only assume that he was either a loner or belonged to an obscure group unknown to the Seven Kingdoms.

"Are you alright? You look tired," the slender serval noted aloud, quietly taking a seat and looking over him with careful green eyes. "This is Westeros. Did you intend to come here?" Or was it an accident like she had suspected?
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]lady of westeros badge on this account & my main please? thanks
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]Ceryse was standing at her window seat, her pale sea-green eyes fixed on a distant point on the horizon outside her window. After she had sworn fealty to the new High King, she had joined the rest of his court at the capital and had appropriately taken up residence in one of the apartments of the Red Keep. It was strange that the Targaryens should be restored to power - the High Queen Lorina Targaryen and the Crown Prince Vienna Targaryen had fallen from grace months before her birth - and all her life she had grown up under the rule of other houses, all while being taught by her mother of her families' histories. Though Ceryse was glad that it had all come to this, Jaehaerys' new reforms, at least so far, had been nothing but positive for her house.

But she often wondered after how her brother - her half-brother - was feeling. He had spent most of his formative years at sea while she sat in Oldtown, preparing for an unsteady transition into lordship once their father passed. In truth, Ceryse had not even been certain that her position as their father's heir would be safe. After Mother had died, their father had sought to remarry, and with rumours of her parentage and her sex, the inheritance had not stood so firmly. But Gerold Hightower was dead now, slain in the recent rebellion, and she was the new Lady of Oldtown. She was thankful for the turn of events, even if a small part of her heart regretted their father's death.

She could only wonder how Verlin was feeling. She didn't even know if he intended to remain in King's Landing with her. Her mother had never been fond of him but Ceryse had never despised him - it would be hypocritical. Even if they weren't close, she still found comfort in his presence - a fact that she was likely unwilling to admit aloud. Showing any weakness in the courts of King's Landing would be a mistake.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]After she had arrived in King's Landing, was introduced as the new Lady of House Hightower and sworn her fealty to the newly proclaimed High King, Ceryse had taken up residence in one of the apartments in the Red Keep. She'd be joining the King's court now, and now more than ever it was a time for vigilance. The great houses of the Seven Kingdoms were rousing again and there was much to gain and little to lose.

A few days in and Ceryse had already gotten settled into her new private quarters, and she decided to send out word by raven. She had noticed the rather prominent disparity in the gender ratio - numbers that favoured the male sex - and had promptly decided that it would be ideal if she could become acquainted - friendly would be even better - with the other females of the realm. Currently she was the only female head of any house and in a male dominated society she would appreciate the friendship of sisters.

Ceryse Hightower stood at the head of the dark oakwood table now, dressed in a deep scarlet-red gown with her family's ancestral sword, Vigilance, attached to the dark belt worn around her slender hips. There were small cream cakes set on silver displays and teacups sat untouched on their delicate saucers. It was a gently-arranged get-together.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]A Baratheon. There were quite a few of those now, after Jaehaerys had taken the Iron Throne. And Ceryse was interested in watching the house's progress - they were in the running for the title of Warden of the East, a title that the Lynderlys seemed to be currently eyeing for themselves. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Percy Baratheon," she responded simply, her soft gaze briefly flickering towards Oliver as the Stark approached before her eyes slowly trailed back to the returning member of Westeros. "I am Lady Ceryse Hightower." She offered him a quiet smile. It was only recently that the Hightowers had begun venturing out from beyond the Reach.

Ah, I see, that's pretty cool though - I'm looking forward to roleplaying with you more in Westeros!
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]Ceryse had no designs of making her brother out to be the fool. Any embarrassment Verlin stirred up would only be reflected poorly on House Hightower itself. Although given that their childhoods were spent so far apart, it was not so surprising that he would find it difficult to read her. An open book could not dream of lasting very long in the king's courts. Ceryse knew that standing in the path of another noble's ambitions was dangerous. The ideal would be to remain unassuming but watchful.

A few raps on the door and she recognised the accompanying voice. "Verlin, is that you?" The dark-haired girl turned her back to the window, facing the door as her hands were clasped together behind the curve of her backside. She wasn't certain what to expect from him, as Verlin didn't seem to be the talkative type to go seeking out idle conversations. "Please come in." She could only imagine what he thought of her.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]Ceryse too hailed from the south, although not nearly as far south as Dorne. The young Hightower had lived in the Reach all her life, her house sworn in service to their Tyrell overlords. But the Tyrells weren't as powerful as they were before, were they? Ceryse wasn't sure how long it would last until some hot-shot Tyrell lord came strolling in, demanding her house's respect and submission. And she dreaded the thought. There was only one solution, wasn't there? Seizing control of the Reach.

But the Hightowers weren't a house that found thrill in war. They weren't warriors - not her father, nor her mother, and neither was she despite what the Valyrian steel hung at her hip suggested. No, the only way to cement her house's power was through political manoeuvring. Ceryse was not intimately acquainted with the treacherous court of King's Landing but she fancied herself a fast learner and a keen observer.

It was this determination to succeed that perhaps pushed her to approach the aged man now, a Dornish lord whom she only knew by name. Sethos Uller. It would seem that he too had chose to remain at the king's court after Jaehaerys' coronation. "I haven't met a Dornish man in years," the dark-haired girl remarked aloud, her steps soft against the stone floor. "But to be fair, I haven't left the Reach in years either." What had ever happened to Dorne? The details remained murky to her but clearly the Martells were going through rough times if their banner men were now swearing allegiance to a rival monarch. "What's brought you so far north for the winter, my lord?" She imagined that he might turn the question on her but Ceryse was curious to see if he would in fact answer her, get a sense of his temperament.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]Ceryse was going through King's Landing, having opted to walk rather than taking a carriage. Perhaps that was a bit of a foolhardy move on her part, but it was difficult to navigate the congested streets of King's Landing in such a large coach, and she doubted any of the Smallfolk would be so foolish as to attempt to rob a high-born. Easier pickings could be found elsewhere and overall the people seemed content in the wake of Jaehaerys Targaryen's ascension to the Iron Throne. And if against odds should a criminal target her, Ceryse was fairly confident that she could hold her own in a fight. By no means was she an extraordinarily gifted warrior and she knew her own limits. Nevertheless the hilt of her sword sat heavy on her hip and she remained ever watchful as she navigated through the crowded walkways.

So imagine her surprise when she came across Daresso, looking around at his surroundings in confusion. "I'm surprised to see you here, Uller," she called out, her tone of voice not unfriendly. "Did you decide to do a little exploring like me?"
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]What were Ceryse's ambitions? She had never shared them explicitly with anyone, not with her brothers, her family, and certainly not with any of the other nobles living in King's Landing. Nevertheless her motivations could be guessed at although Ceryse would be so bold as to believe that no one knew for sure what exactly it was that she wanted above all else. And frankly she was not inclined towards leaving any sort of breadcrumb trail of clues. Besides, there was more to life than cutthroat politics and right now, the Lady Hightower only desired female company.

"It is," the dark-haired woman confirmed, smiling quietly. "I am Lady Ceryse Hightower." She was not certain how much it was exactly that the raven-haired Lynderly knew of her and her family, seeing as all Ceryse knew of her and her lord husband's house was that they ruled from a keep in the Vale of Arryn and that they were rumoured to be in the running for Wardenships in the north or east - which thusly pitted them against the Starks, the Boltons, and the Baratheons.

Turning away as she noticed a newcomer, Ceryse smiled at the sight of the Bolton woman. Apparently Shavronne was young and widowed, marrying into the Bolton name. But before that she had been a Dornish woman. It was a very interesting background, but admittedly Ceryse's knowledge of her was only superficial. "I'm so delighted that you could make it," she continuing smiling. "Please," her pale green eyes shifted between the two other women. "Sit, and help yourself to some cakes." Ideally the rest would arrive in short time but Ceryse was practical and she would make due with what she was given if necessary.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]What an adorable looking creature. Even if she wasn't necessarily beautiful, Anngerine was short and squishy, and the two traits came together to produce an endearing combination. A faint, vague smile lingering at the corner of her mouth, Ceryse approached, her pale fawn head slightly inclined as she looked over at the winged feline. Were those bat wings? "I certainly haven't seen you before," the Lady Hightower remarked aloud, her pale sea-green eyes quickly running over Anngerine's form. And she certainly didn't recognise the scent of WindClan.

"But this is Westeros territory," she informed the other, delicately taking a seat with her striped tail curling over her dainty white paws. "I am Lady Ceryse Hightower. May I assist you in any manner?" She assumed that Anngerine was here with some sort of purpose, given the way she had paused by the borderlines, as if waiting.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]Just "Rat"? Well alright then. Approaching after Efline, Ceryse came to join the rest of the small group, her pale green eyes curious as she looked over the tabby tom-cat. Already it was becoming apparent that he wasn't necessarily the most talkative of animals. "Welcome to Westeros, Rat," the Lady of Oldtown spoke, her voice a quiet sigh. "I am Lady Ceryse Hightower - it's a pleasure to meet you." The leucistic wildcat offered him a friendly smile, "Would you perhaps like a tour around our territory sometime? There's a great deal of diversity in our different regions." She herself hailed from the South, the Reach specifically.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]"Well.." Ceryse trailed off at his inquiry, a slight smile growing at the corner of her mouth. She wasn't really sure what to make of the Ullers, a Dornish house suddenly returning to rejoin the fold, but she preferred them as allies rather than enemies. There were already a few houses she had singled out for her attention but despite that Ceryse was not looking for any sort of confrontation. Her house's numbers yet remained far too small - populated only by herself and her own direct relatives.

"Ceryse Hightower." The "Lady" in her formal name seemed unnecessary for the moment, but she did offer him a quick curtsey. Daresso was correct to be wary of offending her, because although Ceryse was not so intemperate as to reveal her ire whenever it was aroused, her temper was very much real and she was not particularly forgiving towards those whom she felt had wronged her in some capacity.

"I'm very pleased to meet you as well," the dark-haired noble offered him a quick smile. "I met your father recently, and I'm very curious to learn more about Dorne." And especially of the now-dormant House Martell, because although Ceryse would publicly claim no relation to Vienna Targaryen, her mother had made her very much aware of the true details behind all the rumours and there was a small part of her that was still curious in her Valyrian and Dornish ancestry.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify][size=10][font=timesnewroman]"Is that so?" Ceryse smiled at the information. "I'm pleased that our architecture has charmed you, I find that most do not appreciate such works of talent these days." Most of the clans thought of Westeros as backwards and strange, but Ceryse did not agree with their accusations. Her home was beautiful - at least on the aesthetic level. "Perhaps you should see Hightower sometime soon - it's my family's seat of power." It was a beautiful castle truly, found deep within Oldtown - the largest city in all of the Seven Kingdoms after only the capital, King's Landing, itself.

Would you like for them to have a private thread, Grim?
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