Snippet #1966339

Willem Lannister

"My dear sister," the younger son of Tybolt Lannister said, speaking loudly, clearly, and confidently as he always did, "it's not every day we get to make the ride to King's Landing. The approach is something to be enjoyed, not rushed. It's not like we've got bloodthirsty Greyjoys riding at our heels."

To be sure, Willem cast a glance around. Indeed, it would have been awkward if there had been a Greyjoy within earshot. But Willem had never been one to mind his words too carefully. His mount trotted up beside his lovely sister, and now he could lower his voice to a more conversational.

"And besides, it's so much harder to appreciate the beauty of the city when you're stuck right in the middle of it, as we soon will be." He raised his eyebrows as a thought came to him. "Ah! Or perhaps you're over-eager to appreciate the beauty of...certain individuals that are also attending Uncle Aegon's joyful nameday? Have no fear, my Queen of Love and Beauty, I'm sure everything will work out just as you want it."

He enjoyed teasing his older sister with the title Brandon Stark had so memorably placed upon her last year, though it wasn't as if the title was something negative. And of course the king was not Willem's uncle, but that didn't prevent the young Lannister from referring to him as such. Aegon had been a close family friend to the Lannisters, and to Willem personally.

The brother and sister rode gently through the Gate of the Gods and into the city of King's Landing, and immediately Willem's mind went to his options. He didn't really want to stay with his family at the moment. As much as he loved them, he'd seen plenty of them on the ride across the Goldroad. He had a sneaking desire to ride over towards Rhaenys's Hill, and pay Valerie a visit, see if she was still working at Ambrosya's as he remembered. Then there was the king...Willem pondered if he should present himself to Aegon, do all the formal greetings and whatnot. But that sounded dreadfully dull, and Willem didn't think he was dressed properly, in riding leathers and garb more fit for the dust of the road than the splendor of kingly halls. But perhaps he could ride to the Red Keep, and see someone else.

"I'm off to find Rhaegar. Try to enjoy yourself, dear sister!"

With that, he put his heels into his horse and sped off down the road, towards the Red Keep, shouting at the commoners to make way, skillfully steering around those who didn't react fast enough. Rhaegar was like a brother to him, more so perhaps than his own blood, Devan, and Willem would have been a poor friend if he didn't go to find him first. The brothel could wait. After all, they had those in Lannisport, too.

---

Donnel Greyjoy

The water didn't smell the same here, for some reason.

The crew of the Lady Amalya skillfully guided the warship in the Blackwater Rush, their captain, Donnel Greyjoy, observing from the rear. He had been conducting his father's business in Dorne prior to this, and had elected to travel by ship to King's Landing rather than ride with the rest of his family. After all, he needed to get to know the ship better. She was only a year and a half old, her construction having been ordered by his father Torren shortly after Donnel's wife had passed from her wasting sickness. Donnel knew Torren was not too happy with him naming the warship after his late wife, as it seemed to convey too much attachment to her, which could potentially hurt Donnel's very purpose for being in the city. After all, it wasn't like the Greyjoys came to King's Landing to enjoy the company of families like the Lannisters, those who distrusted and even hated them for their names alone. No, Donnel was here because he needed to remarry. As the eldest of the Greyjoys, Donnel meant to set a strong example for his younger siblings on how a Greyjoy needed to live.

The Lady Amalya slowed as they approached the docks, his men preparing her for arrival. They were a fearsome bunch, proud and fierce ironmen that Donnel had handpicked for his crew. The eldest Greyjoy himself looked more appropriately dressed for battle than a nameday celebration, clad in boiled leather and ringmail, his shield slung across his back, a gleaming war axe at his hip. He felt comfortable, the wind spraying sea water onto the deck, leaving his gear damp and salty. He was glad for it. Any reminders of home were helpful right now.

All he wanted to do, really, was to serve House Greyjoy, and see his father's goals accomplished throughout the Seven Kingdoms. But this was something he had already gone through, and wasn't looking forward to going through again.