Thread: Paper Swords & Thorny Roses [Sanoci x Fruit] {GoT}

S er T amir Y ronwood F Enraptured fervidly onto the political strife-inducing state of Dorne into chaos lately, simpering by the current of the winds escaping from outdoors, passed the spacious window in which he stood. Westeros struck the initiative with the death of Oberyn Martell in a vengeful incited trial of combat against the infamous Gregor Clegane. The gods retain twisted humor on your fate...Red Viper. This irony wasn't lost to Tamir for the atrocities committed in the prince's youth against one of his own. Complicating manners based on eavesdropping from those swayed with ambitions for his family was the tirade this inflicted onto the Martells with his bastards and paramour seeking retributions. Despite the equipoise behind these duels and whom it concerned, even his Dorishmen pride could not deny where to pick one's battles and where pragmatism can work subtly. Privy to extensive access to knowledge since his conjoined youth with Syn, several bookcases decorated the room comparable to the embroidery of one's tunic. Subjugated to the slovenly rule of the Martell bloodline diluting them through the relationships of foreigners. Subterfuge, currency, and an unhinged devotion for dominance was all that helped cling to their rule and to those with keener senses the aphotic manifestations vying for its prestige title and reputation back. A clamorous knock reverberated his eardrum, swerved with mild curiosity never conceding with the appropriate facial expressions pressed into a stoned imprint of sternness. A wiry fellow barring a station practically nonexistent, the gods accursed the degenerate with seemingly crooked dentures more courteous for the wildlife than him and a complexion darkened by a repugnant breeding with Salty Dornishmen like the Martells with slight distinguishing marks of the lands of a Westerosi. Disregarding everything, he was family or scarcely being a cousin far banished from the mere joys of station thanks to his bastard blood. Quite swift in movement, Niall Sand came before his presence with narrowed hues mindful of surroundings. I..I bring news from mii visit from Sunspear itself. The Sand snakes bring complete discord to the foundation of the Martells. Surely this be a sign of a return to old, eh? Splendid, this quickens the ascension to our noble house. I would not dally here long for another task I suddenly find of the utmost significance. They will be relayed shortly., Impeccable timing blessed the Yronwoods from afar without showing their hand, amusement for once not disciplined through an ominous grimace. Laded in the shadows unlike dear Syn, the plots intertwining into his devious minds knew no bounds, no morality if it instilled a sense of power where the title Bloodroyal held its true strength once more. Delay depended on the fleeing health of father, even his aloof disposition dare not tamper with the respect he deserves. Half dressed, a boisterous whistle often times a chime to signal for maids was met with urgency. Instead, the greeting came from commotions not too far from his dwellings. Brandishing his revealed torso with a dark tunic ingrained in patterns of silver while amidst the haste of slipping on his sleeveless surcoat of dark gold pigment with stitching of his house embellished blatantly on the back rushing out the door in a frantic state. The disturbance is coming from Father's...by the new gods..no , Unnerved by the acceleration of the turmoil befalling him simultaneous towards the joyous occasion was another cord of irony the gods probably relished at the games mortals bestow upon themselves. A whimsical whistle exhibited by the curling of his tongue was synonymous for nimble communication, priding himself on the guards who stampeded with a protective formation formulating around one of the heirs out of precaution. Immersed amongst family and retainers was Tamir, vision bulging at the bloody sight of his sister and now deceased father. Hushed whispers manifested Tamir's conscious shuffling at the array of scenarios of how this could dare occur. Insidious plots percussed his mind, ascension one step closer as he gradually came closer to embrace his sister in a tender, yet firm show of affection. Conveying a flocculent means of conversation with Syn, what he yearned for was just awaiting him, but it heeded a subtly, deception, and most of all never following back unlike the Sand Snakes as contention came so close. .....He's gone, isn't he? Please tell me the kindness affronted to him was mundane and not by avaricious for power or one's revenge ?