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Post by The Forgotten God on Oct 6, 2012 15:14:36 GMT -5
Westeros's largest building since Harrenhal was destroyed. Seven hundred feet tall, it sits on an island dominating the landscape of Oldtown.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Oct 6, 2012 15:23:26 GMT -5
Lord Beric Hightower, upon receiving word from both Highgarden and Casterly Rock, sends word for his children. It takes some time to locate his occasionally wayward younger daughter, so by the time Arania arrives her father is alone in his massive office near the top of the tower. It is so large it encompasses an entire floor, with windows looking over every direction of the compass.
When she arrives, he is standing at one of the immense windows, staring towards the south, a half full glass of wine in his hand. He is of middling age, but years of study and seldom leaving his great monolith have left him looking older. He turns when he hears her approach. "You're late, Arania."
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Post by Arania Stark on Oct 6, 2012 15:32:09 GMT -5
Arania curtseyed hurriedly when her father turned. "I was watching the ships come in," she said simply, by way of explanation. She dragged a finger across the smooth pages of a book that was open on a nearby table, eyes skimming the lines of text and idly turning a page. "What did you wish to see me for, father?" Her cold blue eyes flicked up to meet his from the rows of smudged black ink. "Has everyone else come and gone already?"
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Post by The Forgotten God on Oct 6, 2012 15:37:13 GMT -5
"Some time ago. No matter," he says, watching a solitary ship venture down the Whispering Sound himself, "We'll be leaving soon, you know, for this...meeting." He sounds suspicious, as though it were some conspiracy. "Your mother has reminded me we've yet to find you a proper match. Apparently that is my duty as a father." A brilliant yet absent-minded and largely indifferent man married to the strong-willed sister to the late Lord Tarly has left many in Oldtown wondering who actually runs the city, according to Lady Arania's own experiences wandering the endless streets in disguise.
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Post by Arania Stark on Oct 6, 2012 15:51:18 GMT -5
Arania chewed her lip. "Of course she would have." Her mother had broached the subject for the first time three years ago. The same year her sister Lenore's husband had died. The death had made her relent a little, but of course marriage for all her children was never far from Lady Hightower's mind. "Perhaps she should worry about finding a wife for Alaric first. He's almost thirty," she said with distaste.
"I do look forward to this gathering, though." With so many people from all corners of the continent, it promised to be interesting.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Oct 6, 2012 15:57:58 GMT -5
"Alaric has finally caught the interest of one of the Lannister girls. I forget which one. His dreams of a golden haired wife with...whatever parts is finally met." He sipped his wine, then ran his tongue over his teeth as though washing out the stain. Beric Hightower was very fastidious with his teeth. "This gathering is a harbinger of chaos, mark my words. All these kings and queens...recipe for disaster, in my mind." He drained his glass but kept swirling the dregs in a distant pattern.
"Anyway, she is far more focused on you. Something about making sure you find a man who brings a solid alliance to the family and all." Arania could roll her eyes; her father was possibly the most politically astute lord in the entire Goldlands, when he bothered putting his mind to it.
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Post by Arania Stark on Oct 6, 2012 16:20:44 GMT -5
A solid alliance for the family, of course. Arania never expected to marry for love, or even to avoid marriage altogether. She knew what was expected of her. Still, she couldn't help but feel distaste for a future beyond her control. "Has he?" It was the first she had heard of it, but then Alaric wasn't much for conversation. All iron and steel, clattering together in that mind of his. "Good for him, then. I guess the Lannisters are a nice, solid alliance." She scoffed.
"I don't see why you're worried about it. I can only think of the good it will do. This cold war is stressful to all sides." She toyed with her hair idly. The immaculate bun she had arranged that morning was already coming loose from standing in the wind watching the ships sail in. "I'd like to meet people from far away. Perhaps I could learn something new. Pick up the Old Tongue, perhaps."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Oct 6, 2012 16:32:21 GMT -5
"Valyrian? Perhaps." Lord Beric chuckled. "Supposedly some fools want to go to Slaver's Bay to meet the Targaryens for some reason. And, yes, your brother found as solid a match as he is likely to. And, you haven't had to see one, my dear, but I promise; a killing war makes a cold war seem a paradise. Be a good daughter and pour us both some more wine, please. The mulled; it is getting a chill up here." As she (presumably) fills both cups with the hot cinnamony wine, he continues.
"Well, Arania, you'll have plenty of opportunity to meet people from wherever you desire. Even the North may send some of their frozen lords south. The heir to the whole kingdom is unwed, I hear; according to an old friend of mine he shows much promise." He coughed once more. "You have always been my favorite, dear; admiring the brain over the body." His compliment is as unexpected as it is unprecedented.
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Post by Arania Stark on Oct 6, 2012 16:49:36 GMT -5
"Nooooo, the Old Tongue!" she said again, sliding a steaming cup toward him. "I've known Valyrian for years. I mean what the First Men spoke, before the Andals and the Targaryens and..." She stopped, sighing a little. She drank deeply from her own cup, feeling the warmth suffuse her core. "Not very useful language, I understand its only spoken beyond the Wall." She laughed a little at that. She could be a master of useless knowledge.
Arania's eyes widened a bit when he said that she was his favorite child. "Well, thank you, father." She wasn't sure what to make of it, really, but such a compliment definitely played to her vanity. "And you mention such a thing in connection to the heir of the Northern kingdom because...?"
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Post by The Forgotten God on Oct 6, 2012 17:00:04 GMT -5
He chuckled. "The Old Tongue. Perhaps you could visit the Wall and see if any rangers know it. They get starved for company as beautiful as yours up there, I hear." He couched again, a bit softer than before with the hot wine in his belly. "I'm dying, Arania. Not quickly, but surely." He says it as casually as mentioning a language largely dead for two thousand years.
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Post by Arania Stark on Oct 6, 2012 17:07:54 GMT -5
It would be thrilling to visit the Wall. Arania's eyes brightened at the very thought of it. Her look changed when her father coughed again, and mentioned dying. "We're all dying, a little more every day," she said, not taking him seriously. Meeting his eyes again, she frowned. "You'll be fine, father. For a good many years yet."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Oct 6, 2012 17:11:32 GMT -5
"No, I won't. Perhaps a year I have left, but I think half that. There is blood in my stool every day. The Citadel can do nothing." He finally sits, seeming relieved to have said it. "I press the matter of a marriage now, while I can be in charge of it, and not for later, when your brother will be. He is my son...but he would send you to Starfall if he though it would earn him favor. And I assure you, in my youth I met Lord Dayne on the field of battle. That is not what you want."
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Post by Arania Stark on Oct 6, 2012 17:27:13 GMT -5
Arania cringed to hear of such things. And all the Citadel, Archmaesters and all, could do nothing. It made her blood run cold, to think of something even Maesters' knowledge could not touch. She touched the back of her father's hand, unable to imagine him dead and cold. "I'll do what you ask of me. I owe it to you," she said softly, thinking of the countless times she had done the opposite of what he asked. She smiled a little. "I know little of the Dornish. Are the Daynes so terrible as all that?"
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Post by The Forgotten God on Oct 6, 2012 17:39:56 GMT -5
"Much worse, love. The lord is a monster. The bastard boy, Frances, is near as bad. The heir is estranged, and the girl...no matter." He breathed out, and seemed to age a decade in the one breath.
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Post by Arania Stark on Oct 6, 2012 18:02:37 GMT -5
She made a mental note to be cautious should she encounter them, though of course her curiosity had been piqued. "I'll be sure to stay well away from them, then," she said to him. He really didn't look well, she thought, wondering how she never saw it sooner. Selfish is what she was, and self-absorbed. "Do you think Alaric will be a terrible Lord?"
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