How do you make a dragon prince very very angry?
Who: Jaehaerys Targaryen When: Day 28. Afternoon. Where: Red Keep. Tyrith Lannister's quarters. Rated: R for language, references and threats of extreme violence and graphic descriptions of what happens to those who cross Martell-Targaryen families. Status: Open to anyone who might be wanting a word with Lord Lannister...
When Tyrith Lannister's man Geron had reached him at the docks, Jaer had already begun hearing the strange rumors of what had gone on in the Keep and his uncle's men had already dropped by with grim news though nothing certain. The Red Keep's doors had all but sealed early in the morning and showed no signs of opening up but the Lannister bannerman had been sent to fetch him.
Someone had said Princess Aenyris was dead. Others said it was Princess Elia. Still others held that the news of the Stark girl's recovery had been false and she was dead. He doubted Toria would have come to him as she had if the last been the case, but perhaps the antidote only set off some deeper poison...? No. That had been some warning, not a true attempt if he was any judge. Another tale held the lady in question was wounded. The rumors kept flying and one thing was constant: a princess had been harmed. It wasn't pleasant to hope that the Stark child was the one mentioned, but Jaehaerys could not help himself.
He sat in Tyrith's chambers, awaiting the Lord Lannister's return. In his hands a cup of spiced wine was cooling unnoticed. He wanted to go into the halls and find Aenyris' rooms, ask her the news... but the solemn face of Ser Geron had grown only more solemn when he'd voiced that thought and the knight had used his few words to urge Jaer to remain where he was. The faces of the servants in the Keep were drawn and pale- whatever had transpired had sliced to the core. There were whispers in the hall which faded as anyone drew near and looks of such suspicion...
He'd heard Elia's name as they passed but that was not uncommon, he reminded himself. Elia was generally the subject of some gossip or another... and yet, something was very wrong. The sense of dread that had hung over him the last year felt heavier with each breath he took in this place and the familiar stones had begun to look ever more foreign...