Fimbulvetr

Nevermore

Member OTS

OTS 1
OTS 2

Arête & Tywin

Couple OTS


Private A Game of Thrones

#1

A minute time had passed since the drawing of the Ambrosius Ball. In light of the event, and its many (both surprising and unsurprising) cornerstones, Tywin's focus realigned itself. Never had he been a distracted man before, but it seemed that this realm of Slidr proved an equal opponent in testing his many groomed attributes. But was it really this place? Or was it simply one item in particular? A snort escaped through the stag's icy laced nostrils as he returned back to the terras of the West. He'd grown quite fond of them, of the company who resided here, and, of course, of Arrhule in particular. And from the aerial perspective? The fog laden kingdom was a majesty to behold. The singular peak - Berg-Risi, on its lonely summit - winked and peered through a veil of clouds as if uncertain that the denizens responsible for guarding it could complete the job. The dark, almost haunted, wood beneath hid the slithering snake of Blar. It's glimmering surface faintly waved to the aloft stallion as his conjured wings shifted, directing his course in a steady descent. With each sustaining heave of the magick born appendages, droplets of garnet blood wept from their dampened tips in a lament perhaps to the hardships he had endured to arrive at this very spot. Tywin was on the precipice of a new dawn, a new era, one that he had striven for since the realization his surname was a curse. Tryggr was the pivotal key, and he knew that there was one lad in particular who could help him.

Through the cold fog, which dewed his hide, the velvet man drew up his appendages while his great blood-red wings gave the final, heaving beats that brought him land-locked again. As his hind hooves sank into the moist western sod, the arcanum wings shuddered from life; loosing the feathered texture, their elaborate detailing fell into the nebulous collection of blood as it rained to the grounds. A single drop of life-water slipped from his nostril, running a dark wine stain along his blackened lips as he traipsed forwards with a commanding, encompassing stride. Two guards, who had experienced the rather dramatic entrance, had already drawn to attention and stood at-the-ready, their investigative stares distrusting. Tywin approached them without hesitation, a soft, lulling smile upon his glacier velveteens. He drew until he stood but two sword sweeps away from the sentries, and offered them both a cordial nod of his visage. His eldritch mane slipped from around his ears and forelock, swaying gently in the stillness of the forest rather than whipped by winds in flight. "Good evening, gentlemen." His sanguine vocals fell like wine; rich, potent, but dangerous. One guard stepped before his brother, a flick of his tail and pinned ears betraying his full ire. "State your business, stranger, or leave. Tryggr's borders are closed to all those who do not claim her banner."

A curling grin etched itself into the dark mask of the stag, and he drew himself fully upright. "I come to speak with the soldier Giovanni." The guards immediately exchanged a look, equally as mistrusting but poisoned with curiosity. "He's promised to speak with me pertaining to acquiring citizenship."

The rear guard harumphed, turning his grizzled visage towards his compatriot with silent queries. The fellows shared a wordless conversation before turning back to Tywin. "This way." one growled, turning their leather armored backs to Tywin. The grizzle brute took the lead with the slender fellow waiting to fall behind Tywin, but there was little need to wait. As quickly as the large bay had strode forward, Tywin's graceful and sweeping strides fell behind in tandem. Within Tywin's anticipation was bubbling like a rapid animal, foam falling from the spittle on its maw, but an eternally composed male there was no indication of the building titillation inside. Sapphire eyes slipped skyward, back to the melancholy fog and clouds that swept through the overcast sky. Through it the lonely mountain bore down upon them, hiding away their destination among the pines and rock.


W C: 685
T A G: Andante
M U S E: 4/5
O O C: LEZ DO THIS
TYWIN





powerplay excused
within reasonable limits!
always tag responses.
@[Tywin]

Tag: @[Tywin]

#2
I KNOW THERE'S BEEN STIGMA 'ROUND ME,
I KNOW YOU HEARD THINGS ABOUT ME ―
Andante was content, for once. Despite all the distractions and requests that demanded his attention he was allowed to relax for the time being. Although he knew it would not last long the young king was finally settling into his rule and would not have it any other way. Heavy morning fog dappled his wolf grey pelt in dew as he ambled along throughout the realm of berg-risi. Tucked carefully within his mouthful of glistening fangs were a bouquet of golden and alabaster snow lilies. It had taken him most of the morning to find the hidden mountain gems but it was worth every second spent searching for them.

Upon reaching his destination the boy king tediously laid his gift where his dear friend rested her head at night. It was his way of an apology since he still failed to do so and knew that he needed to speak with her regarding the subject. But for now he hoped that she would enjoy his gift. Crimson hooves pivoted gracefully, leading the young king back down from his throne on high and into the darkened forests bellow. His gait was slow and deliberate but calculated in its step, showing off all the natural poise he'd been born with. Not long into his walk did he hear the crunching of foliage under hooves up ahead.

Next the scent of an increasingly familiar individual wafted across his velveteen nares, causing a brief snicker to fall from his lips. The glacier frosted man continued to surprise him with how badly he wished to seek approval into Tryggr. But the question still made him wonder why. However, he supposed he would get the answer out of the stag soon enough. Stifling a broad grin from taking shape upon his dark lips, Andante stepped out into the open calm and collected. Scarlet serpentine eyes skimmed over his guards, regarding them silently for a moment before panning over to Tywin himself.

Tywin Traegur, welcome back... The stygian hellhound voiced with a hum on his lips. There was a slight incline of his dark visage as waves of crimson cascaded along his nape. Mortimer. Roscoe. I can take it from here... He murmured, serpentine eyes sliding back over his fellow house membered with a curt nod of brief appreciation. The tip of his leonine tail curled inward idly as he tipped his head in the direction of the summit of berg-risi. Well muscled limbs yielded to turn and acceded the mountain once more, trusting that the Traegur man would follow suit.

The climb was like second nature at this point his hooves falling naturally in step of so many before him. He remained silent for a while perhaps for a bit of flare, before finally deciding to speak. As you know I work very closely with the king, Andante began as he rounded a sharp corner, cloven hooves carefully albeit skillfully continuing in stride. And he has decided that I shall be the judge of your entrance given the fact that I have spoken with you on a few occasions. If I like what I hear, then you're in. The boy king murmured upon reaching the peak. Turning about he looked down upon the man. What do you have to offer the banner of Tryggr, and what drives you to it specifically out of all the houses?
000 words. tagged.  Tywin
Tag: @[Andante]

#3


Tywin Traegur

The trio climbed the arching and winding forest paths of the mountain hillside in silence. It was apparent that the guards were aggitated with the interuption of their watch, but the boy's name had struck a cord. Tywin had expected that they would simply fetch the boy and bring him down from the high peak where the king resided but no... Their walk grew extended, with cautionary vaults over ground seemingly held together by weak, stringy roots. The density of the fog gave away beneath the canopy of the trees, thinning to reveal the darkness that enveloped the forest, particularly now with the steely sky above. Perhaps superstitious equine would find the phantasms perturbing, but Tywin was far too logical of a man to worry himself with fictional tales of daemons when his prize lingered so close.

So he returned his wandering eyes back towards the path ahead of them, again musing on the fact that Giovanni proved so important that Tywin was to be sanctioned temporary asylum to enter the lands in search of him. Luckily enough, his cold company seemed to expire. Down the path they rose the all too familiar silhouette of Giovanni manifested through the dim, a smirk upon his lips along with greeting. Tywin offered a simple nod and "Thank you," in appreciation for the cordial homecoming, but his striking eyes slid towards the two escorts. They remained as they were, albeit stiffly. Their gazes watched the youth with a hawk's percision and their voices offered no resolutions. Rather, it was Giovanni that dismissed them. Tywin smirked.

Perhaps the games they'd started playing high in the Laurel Alps hadn't ended afterall, and perhaps there were far more players than the Traegur son had previously considered. Upon dismissal the two kingsmen - Roscoe and Mortimer - eyed Tywin but retreated in silence back down the crumbling forest path. But Tywin was not concerned with them - rather his attention had been fully placed upon the youth that garnered so much respect and privy treatment. Tywin's lids slit every so slightly, perhaps even only a centimeter or two, as he regarded the boy's gestures to follow him back up the trail. It was a daring look, one that was questioning all of the information set upon the negotiating table. But his own smirk? It read of sophistication, compliance, and most important of all in the moment, silence.

A pregnant pause lingered between the males as they started the second climb towards Berg-Risi. The canopies above alternated between thick and thin. At times they were exposed to the deep fog that hung upon the Tryggr summit like a shroud, while others it was lifted away by the heightest branches of supple fir trees. Giovanni commanded the ground beneath his feet with expertise, obviously having patrolled a time or two at the very least, and moved with a nimble grace across a sod that threatened to tumble with every step. Tywin, boasting an equally natural fluid gait followed suit, mindful of particular locations that the boy avoided or used for purchase along precarious corners. No one could ever deny Tywin was observant.

It was here, where they were at the highest, that the boy finally spoke, ushering in a trial by debate that would prove Tywin's worthiness for citizenship. Quietly the senior stag listened, his harks pitched forward at attention and curious. Questions were whirling in his mind's eye: why such a reclusive king? What had Giovanni done to prove his position at such a young age? Why had the guards exchanged a look upon the mention of the youth? They were all inquiries Tywin desired answered, but in due time. They drew to the final peak; a width cliff that hung along the mountain as a natural fortress. While Giovanni had taken his spot, his scrutiny upon the nonpartisan man, the eldritch stallion continued some strides more. His slate hooves stopped him at the edge of the cliff, where he dared a look down. Through the clouds and fog he could see the cavernous scar of Arrhule and a silken grin etched itself into his lips. With a graceful draw of his visage he turned to the boy king, the tendrils of his oilslick mane caught in a dull zephyr that raced down the mountain. It was time for the true negotiations to begin.

"My worth to your house, I believe, has already showcased itself." He began, his sanguine vocals slippign from his tongue like dark, amber honey enriched with absinth. "You were assigned a proxy for the king due to your familiarity with my character, and I would trust your memory serves you well." That knowing, piercing stare of Tywin's remained while the rest of his visage remained stoic. A single stride angled him more appropriately for his testimony. "I am a man designed for diplomacy; debating its functionality, developing methods of peace and war, and most imporantly enforcing the rules of a kingdom. Without structure and unity there is no kingdom." He let a pause fall, his mask expressionless through the thin threads of his forelock that parted like black stains from his crown across his facade. "I have held positions in court and served my sovereign obediently. While others simply seek politics for a title and a good boast, I thrive beneath responsibilty and help my king - or queen - equally thrive. My read of character is invaluable in discussions, or simply in general conversation, and a tool not to be squandered. Secrets do not hide from me for long, especially at court." His sapphire eyes flicked from Giovanni's garnet hooves to his chromed horns, a physical example to bolster his testimony. When his winter eyes fell back upon Giovanni's hellish pair, the knowing burned at its hottest. He knew this veil of mystery drawn across the enigmatic atristocrats of Tryggr was a guise. And guises always fell. "In all honesty," his tone transformed from the diplomatic aria of importance to the matter-of-fact tone of a philospher, "I wouldn't want to be the king who decided to be on the wrong end of such a valuable device."

Had he spoke too much? Was there even such a thing? The dark hoods of his eyes fell as he peered at the boy. His visage cocked, letting liquid ichor locks slipp across his ice marked mask as Tywin inevitably, and perhaps expertly, turned the discussion inside out. "I am also not a man that will be lied to, Giovanni, nor a man who will follow a ruler with no face."

W C: 1092
T A G: Andante
M U S E: 5/5
O O C: whOOPS TYWIN STAHP




powerplay excused
within reasonable limits!
always tag responses.
@[Tywin]

Tag: @[Tywin]

#4
I KNOW THERE'S BEEN STIGMA 'ROUND ME,
I KNOW YOU HEARD THINGS ABOUT ME ―
The boy's gaze followed the glacier frosted man as he stood near the edge of the many cliff faces, daring to peer over its edge and down below. As the stag stood momentarily with his back to him Andante carefully scrutinized the man, searching for any form of ill intent now that they were alone. But alas, the Traegur looked nor acted any different than the very first time they encountered one another within the Laurel Alps. The same breeze that gently jostled Tywin's hair decided to sweep past and tease the loose waves and curls of his own blood red mane as the elder stallion began to face him once more.

He remained silent still, awaiting a reply for the hefty questions he wished to be answered. And finally they came. Ebony harks pointed themselves forward ever so slightly once his conversation partner began his witty banter. Eyes challenging in their dead lock stare. The stallion was confident, Andante would give him that and  all the credentials the houseless male mentioned boasted his experience. Logically, he would be a fool to pass this opportunity up and all his hard work and effort would only get him but so far on his own. But the ever looming thought of potential treason remained at the forefront of his mind. Surly it was too good to be true, for an individual to be pleased by serving alone.

The young king's eyes continued to study him further, searching for deceit, desperate to find an inkling of betrayal. However, as before he found nothing but a collected face. A faint sigh fell from his obsidian nares as he continued to process all the information begin given to him. Truthfully, the lad was preparing himself to ask another round of questions until he noticed the more pointed stare, a knowing almost accusing look washing over the sophisticated man. It was at this point he knew that his façade was starting to crumble before this man. It lasted for a good while but, not long enough. If Tywin could figure out where he stood within the shadows of his own kingdom what would others think?

There was a heat that blazed within him, one of bubbling anger that threatened his otherwise calm bodice to tremble. He had failed at his own game and lost to his own rules. How could he let this happen? Where had he gone wrong along the way? The only thing that broke his composure was the tensing of his muscular jaws as he looked the Traegur heir over from hoof to crown. But the icing on the cake was the final comment the stag dared to say, although he could not deny the cunning of his diplomatic rival. Had Tywin said all the wrong things and topped off his argument with the little lecture he just uttered, Andante would not have hesitated to call for his end right then and there. For he refused to be ridiculed within his own kingdom.

Luckily for him he saw his comment as room for improvement, considering he could not allow himself to be found out again by more outsiders. And Tywin would help him to achieve that goal. Almost amazed by how quickly the conversation turned around Andante allowed an irritated chuckle to slip from his lips. However mad he might have been over his bruised ego he could not blame the houseless man for his mistakes. A grin that revealed all of the boy's wolf like fangs coated his features as he turned from the stag, walking casually toward his throne. How many challengers do you think would swarm a kingdom if they caught wind that its ruler was a mere child?

The hellhound poised his hypothetical question as he turned about. Cocking a hip to rest in comfort and confidence in the presence of the man, he found it pointless to pretend any longer. The wide almost frightening grin he wore before dwindled down to a mere charming smirk. A king that operates in the shadows is much harder to hit than a colt boasting his crown. His gaze swept off to the side over the span of his kingdom nestled in the thick of the fog that surrounded it. You might be offended for being lied to, but I will do all I can to protect what is mine.

Scarlet visionaries skimmed over the ice painted Traegur as his face fell serious once more. As you now know, I am Tryggr's sovereign. My name is Andante Silverblood...not Giovanni. The boy voiced with a tip of his visage before continuing on. If you're as sincere as I believe you to be then you may wear Tryggr's banner for you have passed my extensive test. But I ask that a man of your caliber assist in keeping my identity a secret.
000 words. tagged.  Tywin
Tag: @[Andante]

#5


Tywin Traegur

Tywin waited, an incredibly patient man in the face of a world that seemed to move so very quickly, his accusatory stare only softening upon the first tension within the boy's jaw. Just as he had suspected... The game of debate, or rather conversational cat-and-mouse, was a game equal parts cunning and chance. The eldritch, elder male who stood before the young boy-king had known the risks and their consequences for poising such allegations with the slivers of suspicion he had procured during his time in the West, but sometimes risks were necessary. The more valuable truths fall from the mouths of those who were seeking to hide them, and while Tywin wouldn't have held surprise in his heart for either answer that could have left the garnet haired colt, he found some inner pride knowing he hadn't been bested by a child. Despite the months of travel and relative solitude, his mind was still sharp like the blade of an assassin, and it was his most valuable tool.

As Giovanni lifted his mask and confessed his true name and title, Tywin offered a small bow; his muzzle and thusly his visage dipped, a veil of obsidian threads slipping across the glacier marks of his face, and his eyes closed. It was a small gesture, but one that spoke volumes. To close ones eyes was to put all the power in the other party's hands, and by doing so it displayed trust. Sometimes trust was mistakenly given where it should not, but Tywin felt he was not doing so now. Without haste he erected himself again, his cool eyes watching with a tepid interest.

While Andante worked the room, drawing both restrained smiles and his hooves upon the moss laden stone, Tywin remained in place; an attentive courtier who sought only to appease and listen. His audits were trained on the youth, following him wherever he ventured with a gaze that do did not tarry. The boy's requests were simple enough and they drew another minute nod from the elder male. Of course he would not undermine the creative disguise Andante had worked so meticulously constructed. "As you wish, your grace." Another breeze, far gentler than one might expect so high within the Tryggr's lonely mountain, brushed the stray khol locks away from his visage and laid the with  natural finesse around the edges of his visage. Tywin's gaze turned again to the cliffs, eyeing where he could very well have plunged down below to the ravine of Arrhule. Within his chest fluttered like a hummingbird though it was not painted upon his facade.

So much had led to this moment. No longer was he a Traegur of the gutters, labelled and pissed upon by those who knew his father for a name he never chose. He was a man valuable to others, to a king, for his skills and cunning. With a rapid turn, Tywin tossed his gaze back towards Andante. "I do have a request." He began, his tone collected and as chilled as the icy marks of his visage. His tone never wavered from a near-to monotone of meticulous thought and self-control. "Allow me to be your baron in the ravine below. They call it Arrhule. Keeping all your denizens within one place could lead to ultimate ruination." He paused, studying the features of his sovereign but intended to continue whether he found ire, impatience, or curiosity. "I can amass a second hold beneath your rule, reinforcements and a safe and secluded area to bolster Tryggr numbers."

W C: 595
T A G: Andante
M U S E: 4/5
O O C: ...




powerplay excused
within reasonable limits!
always tag responses.
@[Tywin]

Tag: @[Tywin]