This blog is growing strong as only the Tyrells can!
That's right, it's the way you happen right to hear it!
This post, to be more exact, makes 2010!!
Still, this is merely the tip of the iceberg...
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta tyrells. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta tyrells. Mostrar todas las entradas
martes, 10 de octubre de 2017
OVER 2000 POSTS... STILL GROWING STRONG!
That's right, it's the way you happen right to hear it!
This post, to be more exact, makes 2010!!
Still, this is merely the tip of the iceberg...
sábado, 9 de julio de 2016
WIT AND WINTERFELL: MBT/ASOIAF CROSSOVER
What if... Sansa Stark lived Threnody Vey's life and vice versa?
How would it unfurl for a badass wit to live at the Red Keep, and for a fragile court lady to adapt to military life, overnight?
How would it unfurl for a badass wit to live at the Red Keep, and for a fragile court lady to adapt to military life, overnight?
This bunny is a crossover with cross-transplantation, confusion left and right,
a rebellious only child and a demure older sister switched and catapulted into one another's worlds in a mysterious storm (actually, a tesseract), Lannisters, Tyrells, lamplighters of the Haacobin empire, cothouses, calendars, cathar's treacle, the Right, a dashing Dornishman and an enlightened surgeon who both become interested in this "Sansa..." (yes, both Oberyn and Qyburn are naturally curious about Threnody), firearms, fodicars, and seltzer lamps (things about this brave new world that Sansa is curious about)...
From Winstermill to Herbroulesse, from King's Landing to Winterfell, these are the stories of a wit in Westeros and of a Westerosi princess on the Half-Continent.
The question is: will they stay in their new homeworlds or return to their old at the end of the day?
lunes, 11 de enero de 2016
THE 12 DAYS OF DERMARK CHRISTMAS
THE 12 DAYS OF DERMARK CHRISTMAS
I was supposed to do this for Xmas, but had to delay it 'cause of Shakespearean and Precurean shenanigans, aside from the advent calendar, so voilà...
On the first day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
a Den of Iniquity.
On the second day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
two Weasley pranksters
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the third day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the fourth day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the fifth day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
FI--I--VE WARRING KI-I-NGS...
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
I was supposed to do this for Xmas, but had to delay it 'cause of Shakespearean and Precurean shenanigans, aside from the advent calendar, so voilà...
On the first day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
a Den of Iniquity.
On the second day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
two Weasley pranksters
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the third day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the fourth day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the fifth day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
FI--I--VE WARRING KI-I-NGS...
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the sixth day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
six chicks a-chirping,
FI--I--VE WARRING KI-I-NGS...
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the seventh day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
seven Tyrells scheming,
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the seventh day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
seven Tyrells scheming,
six chicks a-chirping,
FI--I--VE WARRING KI-I-NGS...
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the eighth day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
eight elusive Sand-Snakes,
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the eighth day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
eight elusive Sand-Snakes,
seven Tyrells scheming,
six chicks a-chirping,
FI--I--VE WARRING KI-I-NGS...
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the ninth day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
nine Muses singing,
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the ninth day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
nine Muses singing,
eight elusive Sand-Snakes,
seven Tyrells scheming,
six chicks a-chirping,
FI--I--VE WARRING KI-I-NGS...
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the tenth day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
ten Amis fighting,
nine Muses singing,
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the tenth day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
ten Amis fighting,
nine Muses singing,
eight elusive Sand-Snakes,
seven Tyrells scheming,
six chicks a-chirping,
FI--I--VE WARRING KI-I-NGS...
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
eleven Nargles snatching,
ten Amis fighting,
nine Muses singing,
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
eleven Nargles snatching,
ten Amis fighting,
nine Muses singing,
eight elusive Sand-Snakes,
seven Tyrells scheming,
six chicks a-chirping,
FI--I--VE WARRING KI-I-NGS...
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the Twelfth Night of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
twelve Shakespearean dramas,
eleven Nargles snatching,
ten Amis fighting,
nine Muses singing,
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a Den of Iniquity.
On the Twelfth Night of Christmas, Miss Dermark gave to me
twelve Shakespearean dramas,
eleven Nargles snatching,
ten Amis fighting,
nine Muses singing,
eight elusive Sand-Snakes,
seven Tyrells scheming,
six chicks a-chirping,
FI--I--VE WARRING KI-I-NGS...
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a DE-E-EN OF INI-I-QUITY!!!
four Hope Kingdom castles,
three Dysdarks,
two Weasley pranksters,
and a DE-E-EN OF INI-I-QUITY!!!
jueves, 12 de noviembre de 2015
MY FAIR WARRIOR - VERSION II
This version of my Jaimienne Othello, My Fair Warrior, is going to be five short thirteen-sentence chapters. I will obviously abide by the constraint.
The cast, the same as usual (with an added extra):
Jaimienne, Renloras, Renlienne friendly, Petelyn, Oberyn/everyone good-looking, Reach/Dorne rivalry, death of many characters in the end.
Ah! And the author has got the following constraints:
1) All chapters shall be 13 sentences long.
2) The story taken will be the Verdian Othello, with a few liberties (but not too many).
3) The story will be entirely set at Storm's End.
4) All of the ships and features listed below the dramatis personae must be present.
If any of these constraints is disobeyed, the penalty is taking a cold water shower.
ACT THE FIRST
On horseback, in their Payne squire's company, the young lovers have reached Storm's End at last.
Far behind them lies now Casterly Rock, the confrontation, the hard yet finally attained victory.
"I love the Maid of Tarth like you loved my lady mother," Tywin Lannister had been told by his heir ere the latter left the Westerlands for good.
"I won his heart without any tricks, by kindling the hope he had lost," said, to shatter his resolve, the one the Warden of the West disapproved of as a daughter-in-law, ere he realized that so it was.
All of that happened a month ago, but it seems like an era: will they tell the children they will have that story?
Looking into one another's eyes, his green as meadows, hers blue as summer lakes, they now see each other reflected in countless sparkles of joy.
"Last time I saw Renly, he was but a little stripling," Jaime says, tucking a wisp of golden hair behind his right ear, while Brienne, in response, chortles and kisses his lips fast as lightning, innocently.
Now, in the courtyard of Storm's End, a tall and raven-haired young lord with honest blue eyes comes towards them and kisses Brienne on the cheek: a friend's or a brother's kiss.
Jaime sees how dashing Renly Baratheon has become in his early twenties, the comely Reach youth he's taken for a squire, who can be none other than Loras Tyrell, the adorable Reach maiden he's taken for a bride, who must be Loras's younger sister Margaery, courteously smiling and addressing them welcome.
The lord of Storm's End ruffles the freckled maiden's flaxen hair, introduces his bride and prospective brother-in-law to her, wonders why Jaime Lannister is there at Storm's End, and receives for a reply that he's Brienne's fiancé.
This was the fortress where Durran Godsgrief and his nymph lover resisted seven times the storming by the old elemental gods whose daughter had been taken, until these gods surrendered, Renly explains in his usual outrageous style, stressing the characters' feelings, as the Reachers and Jaime listen to a dramatic legend of love, passions, and defiance, one that the Maid of Tarth knows already since childhood.
In a corner of the courtyard stand a fiftyish fellow with a wit as sharp as his dark goatee, looking at the whole scene, a beautiful auburn lady in her thirties or forties wearing black by his side, turning her bright blue Riverlands eyes away from his, grey and hard like the rocks of the Vale.
"Lord Baelish, from the Vale, our new steward, and the unfortunate widow of Lord Stark..." Renly Baratheon, in a lively tone, his bright summer blue eyes shining with confidence, introduces them to the Lannister heir and the Maid of Tarth, as the goateed steward bends the knee before the fair-haired newcomers and the auburn dowager modestly curtsies.
ACT THE SECOND
The sun is setting behind Storm's End, gilding the ramparts and towers of the Baratheon keep, as Jaime and Brienne, from the bastion that serves as their balcony, watch the Sapphire Isle across the straits, the lone evening star shining brightly above them.1
"My Evenstar..." he says, clasping her waist, now clad in a gown of shimmering cobalt blue silk, in his scarred warrior arms, as she shuts her azure eyes and receives a fiery kiss.2
As the fiancés share a tender moment together, a scheme begins to unfurl downstairs in the Great Hall.3
Lord Renly's younger adoptive brother, a Baratheon in everything but surname, is cupbearer at the supper table, and, after he's served the new steward, the latter takes a little flask out of his dark sleeve and pours the crystal-clear liquid within into the costly flower-jewelled tankard still half-full of Arbour red, crimson and shimmering like freshly-shed blood.4
A shiver runs down Edric's spine: "the new steward... planning to poison Renly!?", yet Lord Baelish, who appears to have read his mind, strokes the little cupbearer's free left hand and reassures him that 'tis not as it seems, that he's diluted His Lordship's wine with spring water, that Renly Baratheon might not be able to hold such a strong drink on its own.5
As the dark-haired stripling, reassured, saunters off to serve his liege lord, the upstart watches the first act of his plans unfurl as smoothly and perfectly as foreseen: tucking the little flask of brandy back into his sleeve, then stroking his dark silver-streaked goatee, the steward observes how Edric Storm fills His Lordship's golden cup, which the twentyish Stormlander, after raising it to the health of his bride and brother-in-law, as he slightly throws his head back, gracefully puts to his lips... then, within an instant, Renly tilts his right wrist, his throat works to swallow the laced draught, and, with an already elated expression, he hands over the empty cup to his ward, who fills it again: everything is going as planned.6
In his twenty-one or twenty-two years of short life, Renly Baratheon had never drunk Arbour red before, yet, to keep up with his Reach lover and Loras's younger sister, he has to sample their lore, sharing the usual fare of Highgarden courtiers, to become part of the Reach by absorbing the blood of its fruits... 'tis finely scented, neither that sweet nor that sharp, and goes down smoothly, even searing his throat and warming his heart, a draught of fire or sunshine, as it descends into the depths of his system, flows through every vein with his own bloodstream, drowns every thought and every worry in its wake, estranging Renly from any other feeling but elation: feverishly lighthearted, he passionately feels that drinking Arbour red is just like making love with Loras, as he whispers in his lover's ear all the while embracing the young Reachman and stroking his curly golden hair.7
Once more, the Lord of the Stormlands reaches out the golden goblet for Edric Storm to refill it, and drinks as heartily and confidently as before, yet, by the time he asks Edric for a third cupful, His Lordship's cheeks are ablaze and glow scarlet, his bright blue eyes have turned blood-shot, and he asks his ward and cupbearer, in a slurred voice, why the room is reeling: and thus, after pouring Renly a third drink, though at first a little doubtfully, the young Stormlands bastard, tankard in hand, saunters back to the cellars of Storm's End, looking back at his liege lord every now and then: Renly, usually a sensible drinker, so easily intoxicated?8
At the edge of the table, a sharply dressed goateed Valeman and the bald, red-bearded castellan of the fortress, the guardian of Renly's childhood, watch the young lord gradually drown his reason in strong drink: 'tis the Baratheon flaw, it took Robert away, and, though Stannis has always rejected it, the youngest brother is already spiralling towards the same downfall... thus says this Baelish, though no born Stormlander, in that friendly and honest tone which always tells the truthsayer apart from the liar: Ser Penrose worries that his young ward, whom he raised with all his care since Renly's older brothers left, may wreck his health and life... perchance, as a warrior not used to rearing children, the veteran had been too lenient to his ward, letting Renlykins, without any disappointments and with every wish or whim fulfilled, grow willful and headstrong: this is the price Cortnay Penrose has had to pay for not knowing how to raise a child, and now, at twenty, Renly's self-will is leading him down the path to downfall his eldest brother walked... there he is, already lying half-asleep on the table, yet, though he has come of age, he is still young: it may not be too late for all hope to be lost.9
Loras Tyrell has never seen his lover in such a state before: he knows Renly as a sensible drinker, yet he never expected Arbour red to take such a hold of his mind and of his heart, though the tall and muscular Baratheon frame of the Lord of Storm's End appears so strong and so resistant... there he lies on the table by Loras's side, his ponytail undone and his long raven locks spread across the flower-embroidered tablecloth, his clean shaven face quite buried in that cascade of midnight-coloured hair, either asleep or unconscious: there is beauty even in his drunken stupor... Tempted by Renly's unconsciousness to come closer, the young Tyrell parts his lover's dark locks as if they were curtains, seeing through the gap a shut eye and a rosy cheek that seem to ask for a kiss. However, as soon as the crown of Loras's head nudges that of Renly's, the unconscious lord suddenly raises his weary head from the table, awakening with flashes of rage in his bloodshot eyes and a dreadful countenance, his right hand springing to the hilt of his sword: seeing what he has unwittingly done, the Knight of Flowers clutches his rose-shaped pommel, prepared to draw steel as well.10
The flash of steel and the clank of blades soon attract everyone's attention; Renly and Loras, once courteous lovers, cross swords fiercely and passionately: for the Baratheon lord is so bereft of reason that his whole worldview is wrapped in a dark haze, and he does not recognize his beloved, but sees the one who threatens his life with a drawn sword as an enemy... from a certain distance, Ser Penrose watches his drunken ward, staggering and reeling yet thrusting a flashing blade to slaughter the brother of his bride: this cannot be true, the Lord of Storm's End must be brought to his senses... and thus, standing up in haste, the middle-aged castellan heads for the sparring young men, to try to make peace in between them, hoping that Renly will pay heed and reason with his former caregiver. 11
Through the haze within Renly's mind, another half-spectral enemy appears, and neither does the young lord realize that his own father figure has stepped in between him and Loras, to try to stop their scuffle and make peace between them... Cortnay sees nought but rage and unreason in his ward's sparkling blood-shot eyes, full of blue fire, and hears his slurred, loud chant of the Baratheon house words: "OURS IS THE FURY!!", as a painful blade enters his right forearm and blood flows from the stab wound... Still, the injured castellan sees no other choice, since Renly won't listen, and quickly pins the intoxicated young lord to the ground, as Renly lands on the pavement with a thud and shuts his eyes, his breathing growing steadier and steadier. 12
The clash of steel and roar of battle-cries rouse the Lannister heir and his love from their reverie, plunging them back into harsh reality and urging them to rush downstairs into the Great Hall, Brienne first, since she has recognized Renly's voice from afar, followed by her golden-haired fiancé... and, when they have reached the Great Hall, they find the young lord unconscious on the pavement, with blood on his sword and gloves, his guardian clutching a right arm bandaged with a torn-off sleeve of the shirt, bleeding and wincing yet swallowing his pain
The cast, the same as usual (with an added extra):
MY FAIR WARRIOR - OTHELLO, JAIMIENNE STYLE
Othello: Jaime Lannister
Desdemona: Brienne of Tarth
Cassio: Renly Baratheon
Iago: Petyr Baelish
Emilia: Catelyn Stark
Roderigo: Margaery Tyrell/Loras Tyrell
Bianca: Loras Tyrell
Foreign Envoy: Oberyn Nymeros Martell
Jaimienne, Renloras, Renlienne friendly, Petelyn, Oberyn/everyone good-looking, Reach/Dorne rivalry, death of many characters in the end.
Ah! And the author has got the following constraints:
1) All chapters shall be 13 sentences long.
2) The story taken will be the Verdian Othello, with a few liberties (but not too many).
3) The story will be entirely set at Storm's End.
4) All of the ships and features listed below the dramatis personae must be present.
If any of these constraints is disobeyed, the penalty is taking a cold water shower.
ACT THE FIRST
On horseback, in their Payne squire's company, the young lovers have reached Storm's End at last.
Far behind them lies now Casterly Rock, the confrontation, the hard yet finally attained victory.
"I love the Maid of Tarth like you loved my lady mother," Tywin Lannister had been told by his heir ere the latter left the Westerlands for good.
"I won his heart without any tricks, by kindling the hope he had lost," said, to shatter his resolve, the one the Warden of the West disapproved of as a daughter-in-law, ere he realized that so it was.
All of that happened a month ago, but it seems like an era: will they tell the children they will have that story?
Looking into one another's eyes, his green as meadows, hers blue as summer lakes, they now see each other reflected in countless sparkles of joy.
"Last time I saw Renly, he was but a little stripling," Jaime says, tucking a wisp of golden hair behind his right ear, while Brienne, in response, chortles and kisses his lips fast as lightning, innocently.
Now, in the courtyard of Storm's End, a tall and raven-haired young lord with honest blue eyes comes towards them and kisses Brienne on the cheek: a friend's or a brother's kiss.
Jaime sees how dashing Renly Baratheon has become in his early twenties, the comely Reach youth he's taken for a squire, who can be none other than Loras Tyrell, the adorable Reach maiden he's taken for a bride, who must be Loras's younger sister Margaery, courteously smiling and addressing them welcome.
The lord of Storm's End ruffles the freckled maiden's flaxen hair, introduces his bride and prospective brother-in-law to her, wonders why Jaime Lannister is there at Storm's End, and receives for a reply that he's Brienne's fiancé.
This was the fortress where Durran Godsgrief and his nymph lover resisted seven times the storming by the old elemental gods whose daughter had been taken, until these gods surrendered, Renly explains in his usual outrageous style, stressing the characters' feelings, as the Reachers and Jaime listen to a dramatic legend of love, passions, and defiance, one that the Maid of Tarth knows already since childhood.
In a corner of the courtyard stand a fiftyish fellow with a wit as sharp as his dark goatee, looking at the whole scene, a beautiful auburn lady in her thirties or forties wearing black by his side, turning her bright blue Riverlands eyes away from his, grey and hard like the rocks of the Vale.
"Lord Baelish, from the Vale, our new steward, and the unfortunate widow of Lord Stark..." Renly Baratheon, in a lively tone, his bright summer blue eyes shining with confidence, introduces them to the Lannister heir and the Maid of Tarth, as the goateed steward bends the knee before the fair-haired newcomers and the auburn dowager modestly curtsies.
ACT THE SECOND
The sun is setting behind Storm's End, gilding the ramparts and towers of the Baratheon keep, as Jaime and Brienne, from the bastion that serves as their balcony, watch the Sapphire Isle across the straits, the lone evening star shining brightly above them.1
"My Evenstar..." he says, clasping her waist, now clad in a gown of shimmering cobalt blue silk, in his scarred warrior arms, as she shuts her azure eyes and receives a fiery kiss.2
As the fiancés share a tender moment together, a scheme begins to unfurl downstairs in the Great Hall.3
Lord Renly's younger adoptive brother, a Baratheon in everything but surname, is cupbearer at the supper table, and, after he's served the new steward, the latter takes a little flask out of his dark sleeve and pours the crystal-clear liquid within into the costly flower-jewelled tankard still half-full of Arbour red, crimson and shimmering like freshly-shed blood.4
A shiver runs down Edric's spine: "the new steward... planning to poison Renly!?", yet Lord Baelish, who appears to have read his mind, strokes the little cupbearer's free left hand and reassures him that 'tis not as it seems, that he's diluted His Lordship's wine with spring water, that Renly Baratheon might not be able to hold such a strong drink on its own.5
As the dark-haired stripling, reassured, saunters off to serve his liege lord, the upstart watches the first act of his plans unfurl as smoothly and perfectly as foreseen: tucking the little flask of brandy back into his sleeve, then stroking his dark silver-streaked goatee, the steward observes how Edric Storm fills His Lordship's golden cup, which the twentyish Stormlander, after raising it to the health of his bride and brother-in-law, as he slightly throws his head back, gracefully puts to his lips... then, within an instant, Renly tilts his right wrist, his throat works to swallow the laced draught, and, with an already elated expression, he hands over the empty cup to his ward, who fills it again: everything is going as planned.6
In his twenty-one or twenty-two years of short life, Renly Baratheon had never drunk Arbour red before, yet, to keep up with his Reach lover and Loras's younger sister, he has to sample their lore, sharing the usual fare of Highgarden courtiers, to become part of the Reach by absorbing the blood of its fruits... 'tis finely scented, neither that sweet nor that sharp, and goes down smoothly, even searing his throat and warming his heart, a draught of fire or sunshine, as it descends into the depths of his system, flows through every vein with his own bloodstream, drowns every thought and every worry in its wake, estranging Renly from any other feeling but elation: feverishly lighthearted, he passionately feels that drinking Arbour red is just like making love with Loras, as he whispers in his lover's ear all the while embracing the young Reachman and stroking his curly golden hair.7
Once more, the Lord of the Stormlands reaches out the golden goblet for Edric Storm to refill it, and drinks as heartily and confidently as before, yet, by the time he asks Edric for a third cupful, His Lordship's cheeks are ablaze and glow scarlet, his bright blue eyes have turned blood-shot, and he asks his ward and cupbearer, in a slurred voice, why the room is reeling: and thus, after pouring Renly a third drink, though at first a little doubtfully, the young Stormlands bastard, tankard in hand, saunters back to the cellars of Storm's End, looking back at his liege lord every now and then: Renly, usually a sensible drinker, so easily intoxicated?8
At the edge of the table, a sharply dressed goateed Valeman and the bald, red-bearded castellan of the fortress, the guardian of Renly's childhood, watch the young lord gradually drown his reason in strong drink: 'tis the Baratheon flaw, it took Robert away, and, though Stannis has always rejected it, the youngest brother is already spiralling towards the same downfall... thus says this Baelish, though no born Stormlander, in that friendly and honest tone which always tells the truthsayer apart from the liar: Ser Penrose worries that his young ward, whom he raised with all his care since Renly's older brothers left, may wreck his health and life... perchance, as a warrior not used to rearing children, the veteran had been too lenient to his ward, letting Renlykins, without any disappointments and with every wish or whim fulfilled, grow willful and headstrong: this is the price Cortnay Penrose has had to pay for not knowing how to raise a child, and now, at twenty, Renly's self-will is leading him down the path to downfall his eldest brother walked... there he is, already lying half-asleep on the table, yet, though he has come of age, he is still young: it may not be too late for all hope to be lost.9
Loras Tyrell has never seen his lover in such a state before: he knows Renly as a sensible drinker, yet he never expected Arbour red to take such a hold of his mind and of his heart, though the tall and muscular Baratheon frame of the Lord of Storm's End appears so strong and so resistant... there he lies on the table by Loras's side, his ponytail undone and his long raven locks spread across the flower-embroidered tablecloth, his clean shaven face quite buried in that cascade of midnight-coloured hair, either asleep or unconscious: there is beauty even in his drunken stupor... Tempted by Renly's unconsciousness to come closer, the young Tyrell parts his lover's dark locks as if they were curtains, seeing through the gap a shut eye and a rosy cheek that seem to ask for a kiss. However, as soon as the crown of Loras's head nudges that of Renly's, the unconscious lord suddenly raises his weary head from the table, awakening with flashes of rage in his bloodshot eyes and a dreadful countenance, his right hand springing to the hilt of his sword: seeing what he has unwittingly done, the Knight of Flowers clutches his rose-shaped pommel, prepared to draw steel as well.10
The flash of steel and the clank of blades soon attract everyone's attention; Renly and Loras, once courteous lovers, cross swords fiercely and passionately: for the Baratheon lord is so bereft of reason that his whole worldview is wrapped in a dark haze, and he does not recognize his beloved, but sees the one who threatens his life with a drawn sword as an enemy... from a certain distance, Ser Penrose watches his drunken ward, staggering and reeling yet thrusting a flashing blade to slaughter the brother of his bride: this cannot be true, the Lord of Storm's End must be brought to his senses... and thus, standing up in haste, the middle-aged castellan heads for the sparring young men, to try to make peace in between them, hoping that Renly will pay heed and reason with his former caregiver. 11
Through the haze within Renly's mind, another half-spectral enemy appears, and neither does the young lord realize that his own father figure has stepped in between him and Loras, to try to stop their scuffle and make peace between them... Cortnay sees nought but rage and unreason in his ward's sparkling blood-shot eyes, full of blue fire, and hears his slurred, loud chant of the Baratheon house words: "OURS IS THE FURY!!", as a painful blade enters his right forearm and blood flows from the stab wound... Still, the injured castellan sees no other choice, since Renly won't listen, and quickly pins the intoxicated young lord to the ground, as Renly lands on the pavement with a thud and shuts his eyes, his breathing growing steadier and steadier. 12
The clash of steel and roar of battle-cries rouse the Lannister heir and his love from their reverie, plunging them back into harsh reality and urging them to rush downstairs into the Great Hall, Brienne first, since she has recognized Renly's voice from afar, followed by her golden-haired fiancé... and, when they have reached the Great Hall, they find the young lord unconscious on the pavement, with blood on his sword and gloves, his guardian clutching a right arm bandaged with a torn-off sleeve of the shirt, bleeding and wincing yet swallowing his pain
viernes, 5 de junio de 2015
MY FAIR WARRIOR - JAIMIENNE OTHELLO AU
So here is the My Fair Warrior outline. The Othello Jaimienne plot bunny has begun to grow for a year. So, what is it? A Jaimienne AU where Jaime turns cloak and leaves for the Stormlands just for the Maid of Tarth... but, what if the past resurfaces, what if their doubts of each other resurface, will the Rains of Castamere plays for them?
The AU will be published either this summer or this winter...
Chapter 0 will be a prologue that opens at Casterly Rock at midnight, with Cersei waking Tywin up because Jaime is unexpectedly missing. There will be a little questioning the Imp, who stays awake reading history and knows nothing... Then, a sealed letter left by Jaime is opened...
CROSS-WESTEROS PERSECUTION ENSUES.
In the end, Brienne and Jaime will meet the Lannisters in the Inn at the Crossroads, where the whole parley will take place and the Lannister heir will be let go, with Tywin's blessing and all (mention of Joanna expected!)...
In this perfectly skippable zeroth chapter, Jaime is Desdemona and Brienne is Othello ("the Maid" instead of "the Moor"). In Chapter I proper, which will open in the sept of Storm's End, their roles will be flipped. He will be Othello and she will be Desdemona. And Renly will obviously be Cassio. The story proper will switch the setting to Storm's End and Evenfall.
To give you an idea of the background, Rhaegar is king of Westeros, losing his marbles in his fifties and ready to abdicate, in a ménage à trois with his wife Elia and first female Kingsguard Lyanna. Robert was killed at the Trident, his younger brothers forgiven by the Crown (Stannis given Dragonstone and Renly given Storm's End), the Lannisters banned from court after the signing of the peace treaty. The de facto ruler of Westeros is, according to Dornish custom, Rhaenys, soon to be crowned Rhaenys I, whose favour Tywin tries to win by marrying Jaime to her (and Cersei to Aegon) or making his heir a Queensguard... until Brienne comes along at a tournament to celebrate the twins' twenty-fifth name day... which kind of frigs up the whole Lannister master plan, as it helps the new Lord Regent of the Vale (LF, married to Lysa and then "accidentally" widowed, like in canon, having adopted Sansa to make his childless union efficient) undermine the status of Houses Lannister and Baratheon by presenting himself at Storm's End as advisor to Renly, to stay closer to both scions and ruin their emotional lives... Add that Tyrion is also present at Storm's End and at Evenfall as Jaime's "voice of reason" that he won't listen to...
Yes, it's "royalists-win-the-War-of-the-Usurper" uchronia!
Rhaella is deceased and Viserys is Prince of (restored) Summerhall, yet a spoiled and self-indulgent libertine. And he ultimately marries Rhaenys and becomes Prince Consort. Dany was stillborn, by the way.
So far, I have cast Jaime, Brienne, Renly, Catelyn as Emilia (mythology gag to Michelle Fairley's career), Pod as some kind of Greek chorus (herald/cupbearer/orderly, etc.), Loras as a Roderigo-Bianca combination, Margaery as another Bianca, Littlefinger as definitely Iago (his motivation being simply to troll the Lannisters and Team Highgarden out of their power) (Cat being his Emilia, the widow he's romancing, and who resists his advances. So Petyr, having shoved Lysa out the Moon Door, holds Sansa hostage at the Eyrie and will only release her if Cat accepts his hand in marriage...), Tyrion as Jaime's "voice of reason"... until, quite unexpectedly, as everyone else leaves for Evenfall, he has to leave for KL to become Hand of the Queen (ain't that CONVENIENT?), which leaves everyone else but Catelyn confused and vulnerable to the Xanatos Gambit that also overarches the Shakespearean tragedy source.
The storyline will be at some points serious, yet full of mythology gags to the lore of Westeros, but also to other canons, for instance, mentions of Uruk-hai, Maester Gerold's Liniment (Dr. Gerhard's Liniment), coconut-tapping "horses", bites from mutant spiders, joke warfare, Bellatrix Lestrange (who appears out of the blue to torment Catelyn), Fabercrombie & Itch, swear words worth of Captain Haddock... NO HODOR, BUT A LOT OF OTHER SHENANIGANS, AND ENOUGH OF THEM, TO FILL THE "HODOR" SLOT.
There will also be filk songs and characters bursting out (especially the Tyrells, Cat, Renly, and my Westerosi OTP) into impromptu musical numbers. (Which never happened in "The Queen Beyond the Wall", except for the Lemony narrator's Faust verses at the beginning and ending. For it was supposed to be a serious fairytale AU about coming of age and the power of love, with a few references to other similar stories.)
Yet I'm already juggling two Westeros AU projects, Septa Poppine (Haft Paykar meets Mary Poppins in Westeros) and the Baratheon Saga (Baratheons & Friends & Foes in Imperial Prussia). Maybe My Fair Warrior will be ready for Christmas, like The Queen Beyond the Wall last year...
The AU will be published either this summer or this winter...
Chapter 0 will be a prologue that opens at Casterly Rock at midnight, with Cersei waking Tywin up because Jaime is unexpectedly missing. There will be a little questioning the Imp, who stays awake reading history and knows nothing... Then, a sealed letter left by Jaime is opened...
CROSS-WESTEROS PERSECUTION ENSUES.
In the end, Brienne and Jaime will meet the Lannisters in the Inn at the Crossroads, where the whole parley will take place and the Lannister heir will be let go, with Tywin's blessing and all (mention of Joanna expected!)...
In this perfectly skippable zeroth chapter, Jaime is Desdemona and Brienne is Othello ("the Maid" instead of "the Moor"). In Chapter I proper, which will open in the sept of Storm's End, their roles will be flipped. He will be Othello and she will be Desdemona. And Renly will obviously be Cassio. The story proper will switch the setting to Storm's End and Evenfall.
To give you an idea of the background, Rhaegar is king of Westeros, losing his marbles in his fifties and ready to abdicate, in a ménage à trois with his wife Elia and first female Kingsguard Lyanna. Robert was killed at the Trident, his younger brothers forgiven by the Crown (Stannis given Dragonstone and Renly given Storm's End), the Lannisters banned from court after the signing of the peace treaty. The de facto ruler of Westeros is, according to Dornish custom, Rhaenys, soon to be crowned Rhaenys I, whose favour Tywin tries to win by marrying Jaime to her (and Cersei to Aegon) or making his heir a Queensguard... until Brienne comes along at a tournament to celebrate the twins' twenty-fifth name day... which kind of frigs up the whole Lannister master plan, as it helps the new Lord Regent of the Vale (LF, married to Lysa and then "accidentally" widowed, like in canon, having adopted Sansa to make his childless union efficient) undermine the status of Houses Lannister and Baratheon by presenting himself at Storm's End as advisor to Renly, to stay closer to both scions and ruin their emotional lives... Add that Tyrion is also present at Storm's End and at Evenfall as Jaime's "voice of reason" that he won't listen to...
Yes, it's "royalists-win-the-War-of-the-Usurper" uchronia!
Rhaella is deceased and Viserys is Prince of (restored) Summerhall, yet a spoiled and self-indulgent libertine. And he ultimately marries Rhaenys and becomes Prince Consort. Dany was stillborn, by the way.
So far, I have cast Jaime, Brienne, Renly, Catelyn as Emilia (mythology gag to Michelle Fairley's career), Pod as some kind of Greek chorus (herald/cupbearer/orderly, etc.), Loras as a Roderigo-Bianca combination, Margaery as another Bianca, Littlefinger as definitely Iago (his motivation being simply to troll the Lannisters and Team Highgarden out of their power) (Cat being his Emilia, the widow he's romancing, and who resists his advances. So Petyr, having shoved Lysa out the Moon Door, holds Sansa hostage at the Eyrie and will only release her if Cat accepts his hand in marriage...), Tyrion as Jaime's "voice of reason"... until, quite unexpectedly, as everyone else leaves for Evenfall, he has to leave for KL to become Hand of the Queen (ain't that CONVENIENT?), which leaves everyone else but Catelyn confused and vulnerable to the Xanatos Gambit that also overarches the Shakespearean tragedy source.
The storyline will be at some points serious, yet full of mythology gags to the lore of Westeros, but also to other canons, for instance, mentions of Uruk-hai, Maester Gerold's Liniment (Dr. Gerhard's Liniment), coconut-tapping "horses", bites from mutant spiders, joke warfare, Bellatrix Lestrange (who appears out of the blue to torment Catelyn), Fabercrombie & Itch, swear words worth of Captain Haddock... NO HODOR, BUT A LOT OF OTHER SHENANIGANS, AND ENOUGH OF THEM, TO FILL THE "HODOR" SLOT.
There will also be filk songs and characters bursting out (especially the Tyrells, Cat, Renly, and my Westerosi OTP) into impromptu musical numbers. (Which never happened in "The Queen Beyond the Wall", except for the Lemony narrator's Faust verses at the beginning and ending. For it was supposed to be a serious fairytale AU about coming of age and the power of love, with a few references to other similar stories.)
Yet I'm already juggling two Westeros AU projects, Septa Poppine (Haft Paykar meets Mary Poppins in Westeros) and the Baratheon Saga (Baratheons & Friends & Foes in Imperial Prussia). Maybe My Fair Warrior will be ready for Christmas, like The Queen Beyond the Wall last year...
jueves, 30 de abril de 2015
SNEAK PEEK: BARATHEON SAGA
This summer, when I am done with my exams, I will surely carry on with the Baratheon Saga. Thus, what better to give you right now than a little sneak peek of the upcoming story arc?
So far, throughout the summer of 1914, the conflict was nothing but the average Balkan squabble between Austria and Russia. It appeared that it would never cross the limits of this particular kind of regional dispute, which had been a hot potato throughout the history of both empires.
However, we now know that this conflict developed into something far more ominous and violent than a mere Balkan squabble. Something unknown to those who lived outside the Balkans (and within them) in that summer of 1914.
Including those who lived in Lorraine, one of the most peaceful regions (and in a rare moment of peace in its convoluted history), in the summer of 1914, for we shall now return to the Tyrells and their ostentatious lives. For this, we shall leave overrun Serbia and Croatia for the Tyrell lands. Thus, we turn away from all those gunshots and screams of agony, to find ourselves transported to the Tyrells' estate. Do you, readers, hear the sound of dancing? A waltz is playing in there, where the sun has already set and the light of the halls still shines through countless windows. Un-deux-trois, un-deux-trois, un-deux-trois... Do you, readers, hear the sound of dancing? And now, from the fountain or the maze where you stand, pay attention! A beautiful girl comes out on the balcony with her lover. She looks lovely in that teal gown, her chestnut-coloured pompadour crowned with the bonniest bonnet ever seen on a Lorrainian maiden's head. He is tall and dashing, dark of hair and clean shaven, wearing a lieutenant's mess uniform, epaulettes and sword and all, that surely triples his graces. This soirée is held to celebrate their betrothal, it's their engagement ball (a historical event in Lorrainian society), and soon Mademoiselle Tyrell will be a Baratheon... No! Though her mother and grandmother have not done so, she'd rather keep her maiden surname.
The sound of dancing, a beautiful girl coming out on the balcony with her lover, who will soon be her spouse... What is the subject of their conversation?
"How wonderful the stars are," he says to her, "and how wonderful is the power of love!"
"I hope the cloth will be ready for my wedding dress in time," she answers. "I have ordered the satin from Paris this afternoon, and I will embroider it and sew it myself; so I will not be lazy."
"Margot, are you serious... You will make your own wedding gown?"
"As you hear it, René! And also make the white rose and lily wreath, and the matching bouquet, with my very own hands." Now, Margot Tyrell is wistfully leaning against the balcony railing. Her fiancé, standing behind her, chuckles. Lieutenant Baratheon was only accustomed to the von Lännisters' use of private dressmakers... and the Tyrells employ the local tailors and seamstresses, who sew both uniforms and civilian attire, for both officers and privates... So even Margot will make her own wedding gown, wreath, and bouquet? Thus he reasons: this is a clever girl, the cleverest one he ever has met, she will become a lieutenant's wife, and perchance the pay from the State won't suffice to support both of them. Not even after she has reached that degree at Paris University which she is planning to study in between the betrothal and the wedding.
A third person now comes out of the balcony. It's a blond young ensign, a good-looking one, looking at his sister and fiancé as he calls to them:
"Rainer! Margot! Midnight! The cotillion will now begin!" The church bells of Sierck peal distinctly in the distance.
And thus, all three enter the ballroom once more, where Louis XV chairs are arranged in a semicircle, and every girl and lady, from three generations of Tyrells to those who are but mere children, takes up a chair. The great hall blazes with light of chandeliers, reflecting on glittering bayonets and on officers' uniforms, and on their female company's jewelry.
A figure of tall, sturdy physique, not fit for the modest sky-blue dress she is wearing, steps out of the shadows and into the light. She has watched and eavesdropped behind the shut door, surveying the romantic couple on the balcony from behind a mint-green velvet curtain, keeping them still in sight, herself unseen... overhearing a comment about the lovely stars and the wonderful power of love as she restrained all the tears for her love's betrothal to another, envying the one who will hold Rainer's heart in hers: a beautiful girl, a born Tyrell, clever and of wealthier descent than the colonel's daughter. A bride worth such a bridegroom.
Thus, Brünnhilde von Tarth had not partaken in the revels except to watch Rainer Baratheon, who must have invited her for a reason. What if she became an old maid at the end of the day?... For she was still young and her heart was still full of fire.
Still there was a faint glimmer of hope in Brünnhilde's broken heart, and that was the cotillion. Primroses, forget-me-nots, larkspur, violets, pansies... If Rainer only gave her his little bouquet of wildflowers!
One by one, the young officers and the gentlemen picked a cotillion bouquet from the silver dish and presented it to one of their ladies. As the awkward girl had expected, Max Tyrell gave his to his Valérie, and Charles to his Léonnette. Other young officers, fellows like Caron or Cuy, flocked around other maidens on the chairs, Brünnhilde sitting still overlooked, a freak so tall that her gown scarcely reached below her knees, her flaxen hair cut short like a boy's, with a smattering of freckles now that the make-up had come off (she was a flapper a decade ahead of the trend, and you shall see how she changed during and after the war)... No surprise that even the freshly-baked ensigns shunned her. She could hear them chuckle behind her back. There was no fairy godmother to help her. And Rainer... "Du Rainer, du Feiner!" What if Rainer took up his bride to dance, as it has been intended?
To Brünnhilde's surprise, Rainer whispers something in French in Margot's ear. The only words the blonde can understand are "Excusez-moi." "Excuse me"...
And then, quite unexpectedly, the dashing lieutenant walks up to the overlooked, strange girl. His blue eyes meet her blue eyes, the colour of the forget-me-nots in the cotillion bouquet. Rainer Baratheon bends slightly before her, as Brünnhilde's cheeks flush so red that her freckles disappear. Into her finely gloved, though still rough and strong hand, he places his own, softer and less inured. She looks down into the flowers: her favourites, forget-me-nots! Is this a dream? Tonight, Brünnhilde has not drunk that much, and she is wide awake, her pierced heart hitting her sternum like trying to breach it as the lieutenant offers her his right arm and asks her, softly and confidently:
"Voulez-vous danser avec moi?"
As boldly as she can, mustering all the courage she can find, she replies: "Oui."
In the meantime, the Tyrell fiancée is taken out to dance, with a posy of daisies (to fit her name) by the youngest of her brothers. Margot and Laurent would have made a nice couple if no blood-ties bound them.
So Rainer takes Brünnhilde around the waist as he reassures the assembled Lorrainian gentry that he will dance the next waltz with his intended bride. The fair-haired girl doesn't care, as long as she's had but one dance with the one she loves and will never kiss. Perchance the essence of her love lies in that it is impossible to attain, unrequited, mere friendship from his side, yet blood-heating passion from hers. To look at the forbidden fruit from a distance and stay in her place by not even touching it.
At the end of the dance, the lieutenant looks at her wistfully as he bites his lower lip and blows her a kiss.
In between the cotillion and the next number, champagne is corked and served in the Bohemian cups, even to the children, and healths go round in this sparkling nectar to Rainer Baratheon and Marguerite Tyrell. And every costly glass is raised and most of them are drained, and, in the fiancé's system, reason now begins to yield to a quick and cheerful intoxication. Which appears to run in the family, as we have seen with other Baratheons. While Laurent merely drank a quarter of his cup, and so did Margot, the dashing young lieutenant, a second Cassio, drained his own to the dregs. Though it had already begun to warm his heart and reach his head, Rainer was but half or one-third intoxicated: he didn't reel when he took his bride out to waltz, but his thoughts had already been overcome by an excited elation he had felt before.
And Brünnhilde? The blond girl from Rügen had sipped in a good draught of liquid courage, and this time it was Laurent Tyrell who took her out to dance. Shorter and more fragile-looking, the ensign, though he lacked none of Rainer's graces, didn't attract her at all. Yet Laurent was as courteous as could be, not seeing beyond the ruddy blush and coy smile of the awkward maiden. In spite of her physique, she danced light as a sylph, her heavy heart lightened by the draught she had drunk. All had been joy around her ever since twilight fell, and at last, after midnight, she had given in to it. Would Brünnhilde von Tarth dream that night?
And what about Rainer? There he is, waltzing with his beautiful Tyrell bride, kissing her on the cheek while she plays with his raven hair, his strong uniformed arms clasped around her slender waist.
Every now and then, the strange girl looks at them, and her heart skips a beat, laughing and dancing with all the others, though deep inside she is still bleeding. "A lieutenant and a camp follower? Not even in fairytales!" Then, she steels herself and looks at Rainer, Laurent, Rainer, Old Madame Tyrell, Rainer. Then, all the officers follow the leader and take her out to dance: Cuy, Caron, Guillaume Tyrell... And she makes a promise to herself, to the lieutenant bridegroom that is not hers, and to the world around her:
"Though I never will marry Rainer Baratheon, I will protect his life, and even give mine in exchange!"
Little does Hilde know of the future that awaits both of them, and whether she will stay true to her commitment.
That engagement ball night, of whose consequences you will hear after this parenthesis, was the beginning of the end of the life of Rainer Baratheon.
This mannish French WW1 nurse could as well have been Brünnhilde von Tarth.
So far, throughout the summer of 1914, the conflict was nothing but the average Balkan squabble between Austria and Russia. It appeared that it would never cross the limits of this particular kind of regional dispute, which had been a hot potato throughout the history of both empires.
However, we now know that this conflict developed into something far more ominous and violent than a mere Balkan squabble. Something unknown to those who lived outside the Balkans (and within them) in that summer of 1914.
Including those who lived in Lorraine, one of the most peaceful regions (and in a rare moment of peace in its convoluted history), in the summer of 1914, for we shall now return to the Tyrells and their ostentatious lives. For this, we shall leave overrun Serbia and Croatia for the Tyrell lands. Thus, we turn away from all those gunshots and screams of agony, to find ourselves transported to the Tyrells' estate. Do you, readers, hear the sound of dancing? A waltz is playing in there, where the sun has already set and the light of the halls still shines through countless windows. Un-deux-trois, un-deux-trois, un-deux-trois... Do you, readers, hear the sound of dancing? And now, from the fountain or the maze where you stand, pay attention! A beautiful girl comes out on the balcony with her lover. She looks lovely in that teal gown, her chestnut-coloured pompadour crowned with the bonniest bonnet ever seen on a Lorrainian maiden's head. He is tall and dashing, dark of hair and clean shaven, wearing a lieutenant's mess uniform, epaulettes and sword and all, that surely triples his graces. This soirée is held to celebrate their betrothal, it's their engagement ball (a historical event in Lorrainian society), and soon Mademoiselle Tyrell will be a Baratheon... No! Though her mother and grandmother have not done so, she'd rather keep her maiden surname.
The sound of dancing, a beautiful girl coming out on the balcony with her lover, who will soon be her spouse... What is the subject of their conversation?
"How wonderful the stars are," he says to her, "and how wonderful is the power of love!"
"I hope the cloth will be ready for my wedding dress in time," she answers. "I have ordered the satin from Paris this afternoon, and I will embroider it and sew it myself; so I will not be lazy."
"Margot, are you serious... You will make your own wedding gown?"
"As you hear it, René! And also make the white rose and lily wreath, and the matching bouquet, with my very own hands." Now, Margot Tyrell is wistfully leaning against the balcony railing. Her fiancé, standing behind her, chuckles. Lieutenant Baratheon was only accustomed to the von Lännisters' use of private dressmakers... and the Tyrells employ the local tailors and seamstresses, who sew both uniforms and civilian attire, for both officers and privates... So even Margot will make her own wedding gown, wreath, and bouquet? Thus he reasons: this is a clever girl, the cleverest one he ever has met, she will become a lieutenant's wife, and perchance the pay from the State won't suffice to support both of them. Not even after she has reached that degree at Paris University which she is planning to study in between the betrothal and the wedding.
A third person now comes out of the balcony. It's a blond young ensign, a good-looking one, looking at his sister and fiancé as he calls to them:
"Rainer! Margot! Midnight! The cotillion will now begin!" The church bells of Sierck peal distinctly in the distance.
And thus, all three enter the ballroom once more, where Louis XV chairs are arranged in a semicircle, and every girl and lady, from three generations of Tyrells to those who are but mere children, takes up a chair. The great hall blazes with light of chandeliers, reflecting on glittering bayonets and on officers' uniforms, and on their female company's jewelry.
A figure of tall, sturdy physique, not fit for the modest sky-blue dress she is wearing, steps out of the shadows and into the light. She has watched and eavesdropped behind the shut door, surveying the romantic couple on the balcony from behind a mint-green velvet curtain, keeping them still in sight, herself unseen... overhearing a comment about the lovely stars and the wonderful power of love as she restrained all the tears for her love's betrothal to another, envying the one who will hold Rainer's heart in hers: a beautiful girl, a born Tyrell, clever and of wealthier descent than the colonel's daughter. A bride worth such a bridegroom.
Thus, Brünnhilde von Tarth had not partaken in the revels except to watch Rainer Baratheon, who must have invited her for a reason. What if she became an old maid at the end of the day?... For she was still young and her heart was still full of fire.
Still there was a faint glimmer of hope in Brünnhilde's broken heart, and that was the cotillion. Primroses, forget-me-nots, larkspur, violets, pansies... If Rainer only gave her his little bouquet of wildflowers!
One by one, the young officers and the gentlemen picked a cotillion bouquet from the silver dish and presented it to one of their ladies. As the awkward girl had expected, Max Tyrell gave his to his Valérie, and Charles to his Léonnette. Other young officers, fellows like Caron or Cuy, flocked around other maidens on the chairs, Brünnhilde sitting still overlooked, a freak so tall that her gown scarcely reached below her knees, her flaxen hair cut short like a boy's, with a smattering of freckles now that the make-up had come off (she was a flapper a decade ahead of the trend, and you shall see how she changed during and after the war)... No surprise that even the freshly-baked ensigns shunned her. She could hear them chuckle behind her back. There was no fairy godmother to help her. And Rainer... "Du Rainer, du Feiner!" What if Rainer took up his bride to dance, as it has been intended?
To Brünnhilde's surprise, Rainer whispers something in French in Margot's ear. The only words the blonde can understand are "Excusez-moi." "Excuse me"...
And then, quite unexpectedly, the dashing lieutenant walks up to the overlooked, strange girl. His blue eyes meet her blue eyes, the colour of the forget-me-nots in the cotillion bouquet. Rainer Baratheon bends slightly before her, as Brünnhilde's cheeks flush so red that her freckles disappear. Into her finely gloved, though still rough and strong hand, he places his own, softer and less inured. She looks down into the flowers: her favourites, forget-me-nots! Is this a dream? Tonight, Brünnhilde has not drunk that much, and she is wide awake, her pierced heart hitting her sternum like trying to breach it as the lieutenant offers her his right arm and asks her, softly and confidently:
"Voulez-vous danser avec moi?"
As boldly as she can, mustering all the courage she can find, she replies: "Oui."
In the meantime, the Tyrell fiancée is taken out to dance, with a posy of daisies (to fit her name) by the youngest of her brothers. Margot and Laurent would have made a nice couple if no blood-ties bound them.
So Rainer takes Brünnhilde around the waist as he reassures the assembled Lorrainian gentry that he will dance the next waltz with his intended bride. The fair-haired girl doesn't care, as long as she's had but one dance with the one she loves and will never kiss. Perchance the essence of her love lies in that it is impossible to attain, unrequited, mere friendship from his side, yet blood-heating passion from hers. To look at the forbidden fruit from a distance and stay in her place by not even touching it.
At the end of the dance, the lieutenant looks at her wistfully as he bites his lower lip and blows her a kiss.
In between the cotillion and the next number, champagne is corked and served in the Bohemian cups, even to the children, and healths go round in this sparkling nectar to Rainer Baratheon and Marguerite Tyrell. And every costly glass is raised and most of them are drained, and, in the fiancé's system, reason now begins to yield to a quick and cheerful intoxication. Which appears to run in the family, as we have seen with other Baratheons. While Laurent merely drank a quarter of his cup, and so did Margot, the dashing young lieutenant, a second Cassio, drained his own to the dregs. Though it had already begun to warm his heart and reach his head, Rainer was but half or one-third intoxicated: he didn't reel when he took his bride out to waltz, but his thoughts had already been overcome by an excited elation he had felt before.
And Brünnhilde? The blond girl from Rügen had sipped in a good draught of liquid courage, and this time it was Laurent Tyrell who took her out to dance. Shorter and more fragile-looking, the ensign, though he lacked none of Rainer's graces, didn't attract her at all. Yet Laurent was as courteous as could be, not seeing beyond the ruddy blush and coy smile of the awkward maiden. In spite of her physique, she danced light as a sylph, her heavy heart lightened by the draught she had drunk. All had been joy around her ever since twilight fell, and at last, after midnight, she had given in to it. Would Brünnhilde von Tarth dream that night?
And what about Rainer? There he is, waltzing with his beautiful Tyrell bride, kissing her on the cheek while she plays with his raven hair, his strong uniformed arms clasped around her slender waist.
Every now and then, the strange girl looks at them, and her heart skips a beat, laughing and dancing with all the others, though deep inside she is still bleeding. "A lieutenant and a camp follower? Not even in fairytales!" Then, she steels herself and looks at Rainer, Laurent, Rainer, Old Madame Tyrell, Rainer. Then, all the officers follow the leader and take her out to dance: Cuy, Caron, Guillaume Tyrell... And she makes a promise to herself, to the lieutenant bridegroom that is not hers, and to the world around her:
"Though I never will marry Rainer Baratheon, I will protect his life, and even give mine in exchange!"
Little does Hilde know of the future that awaits both of them, and whether she will stay true to her commitment.
That engagement ball night, of whose consequences you will hear after this parenthesis, was the beginning of the end of the life of Rainer Baratheon.
viernes, 17 de abril de 2015
RENLORAS FILK OPERA - CHOSEN
RENLORAS FILK OPERA - CHOSEN
So this filk opera is a retelling of Frozen as a RenLoras story, with a tragic ending instead of a happy one (obviously). The tragic, short life of Renly Baratheon set to the Frozen songs. The programme is the following:
Flaming Heart (red priests)
Do you want to roam the godswood? (Renly feat. Stannis)
For the first time in forever (Renly feat. Stannis)
Love is a rose in bloom (Renly/Loras)
Claim What's Yours (Stannis)
Sexy Hottie (House Tyrell as a whole)
I am much more than a tomboy (Brienne)
Knights of Summer (the Rainbow Guard as a whole)
Parley (Tragic Finale) Renly/Stannis
FLAMING HEART
Storm's End, during the wedding of Stannis and Selyse. Both are in their early teens, Renly is a toddler. Melisandre and some more red priests appear among the wedding guests.
PRIESTS OF THE LORD OF LIGHT:
Born of light and flame and good
and warm heart's blood united,
this blazing force, well understood,
will never be indicted.
So light the heart led astray,
light a flame and show the way,
never quench it, come what may,
of the good be part
and light the flaming heart!
Lord of Light! Lord of Light!
Shelter us from the night!
Lord of Light! Lord of Light!
Shelter us from the night!
Powerful, bright, light-bringing, warm!
The Lord has a magic that brings no harm!
Stronger than one, stronger than ten!
Stronger than 100 men!
Born of light and flame and good
and warm heart's blood united,
this blazing force, well understood,
will never be indicted.
So light the heart led astray,
light a flame and show the way,
never quench it, come what may,
of the good be part
and light the flaming heart...
DO YOU WANT TO ROAM THE GODSWOOD?
Storm's End is under Tyrell siege. Stannis has been promoted to older brother (since Robert's departure for the war front) and he is locked in his bedchamber or in the library doing his duties as Lord of Storm's End. A restless little eight- or nine-year-old Renly knocks on the door wistfully, looking for company, every now and then:
RENLY: Stannis?
Do you want to roam the godswood?
Come on, let's go and play!
I never see you anymore...
Come out the door!
It's like you've gone away!
We two used to be together,
and now we're not...
Oh, I wish you would tell me why!
Do you want to roam the godswood?
At least it's safe there in the godswood...
STANNIS: Go away, Renly! I don't have the time to...
RENLY: Okay, bye...
Storm's End is still under Tyrell siege. Stannis is still locked in his bedchamber or in the library doing his duties as Lord of Storm's End. A restless little Renly knocks on the door wistfully, looking for company, every now and then:
RENLY: Do you want to roam the godswood,
or ride a cockhorse 'round the halls?
I think some company is overdue,
with no one to talk to but tapestries on walls!
(To a tapestry of Lyonel Baratheon): Hang in there, Lyonel...
It gets a little lonely,
all these empty rooms,
since those green tents and ships are out there... (He looks out the parapets at the besieging host below.)
After a while, the starving garrison is fed with Davos's cargo, and Stannis comes out of his intrenchment to have a talk with their unexpected saviour. At the table, everyone is relieved.
RENLY: Stannis...
So, at last you've come out...
I was there asking where you'd been...
Promise I don't hate onions anymore,
and that's for sure...
but that host is still seen...
Stannis, we just have each other,
just you and me,
when will the host be gone?
Do you want to roam the godswood?
After a while, the Tyrell host has disappeared and the siege is broken. Robert returns from the wars and embraces Renly, overlooking Stannis, before leaving for King's Landing...
A DECADE LATER...
RENLY IS IN HIS LATE TEENS, STANNIS IN HIS LATE TWENTIES, SELYSE AS WELL
FOR THE FIRST TIME IN FOREVER
We're still in Storm's End. Stannis is leaving for Dragonstone. Renly can't feel more excited:
RENLY: The window is open, so is that door,
the Fury stands on the docks still moored,
but it will sail off today, the folk relates!
For years I have roamed these empty halls,
where all attention on me falls...
Finally, they're opening up the gates!
There'll be new and unknown people,
and that stick-in-the-mud off will wend!
At last, all's yours, Renly! Claim Storm's End!
For the first time in forever,
there'll be pleasure since the war...
For the first time in forever,
I'll be more free than before!
I don't know why I feel so excited,
when the Stormlands are my own...
'cause, for the first time in forever...
I won't be alone!
I can't wait to learn to know everyone... what if I meet THE ONE?
Tonight, imagine me fully dressed,
the lands' other lords will be impressed,
the picture of sophisticated grace!
And then, I see someone standing there,
a beautiful stranger, tall and fair,
but in my hands I will not hide my face!
Then, we'll laugh and talk all evening,
into the middle of night,
then do something else by candle-light!
For the first time in forever,
there'll be magic, there'll be fun!
For the first time in forever,
I could fall in love with someone!
And I know I'll be branded a sinner
for the wrong kind of romance...
But, for the first time in forever,
at least I'll take a chance.
Stannis and Selyse are on the docks, boarding the Fury.
STANNIS: At last, I'll leave
for Dragonstone...
but why have I been assigned
this dreary fortress on my own?
Why did he get
our ancient lands?
Will they be safe in his
inexperienced hands?
But from Renly I'll be away...
RENLY: From Stannis I'm away...
STANNIS: We'll be worlds away...
RENLY: We'll be worlds away...
Tell the guards we're opening up the gates!
STANNIS: Tell the captain to unfurl the sails!
The Fury sails away north by northeast, towards Dragonstone.
RENLY: I know routine will set in,
so it has to be today...
'Cause, for the first time in forever...
Nothing's in my way!
LOVE IS A ROSE IN BLOOM
During the celebrations of his investment as Lord of the Stormlands, an evening later on, (in which Stannis and Selyse appear, but merely reading quietly in a corner), Renly meets a younger Reach boy who has been sent to become his squire. And, not surprisingly, he is also the youngest out of three brothers! Soon, both of them discover that they are more similar than they thought:
RENLY: Can I just say something crazy?
LORAS: Bring it on!
RENLY: I love you!
LORAS: And I love you too!
RENLY: As a child, my life was ruined by gold rose on green,
and, think, I would have a crush from the Reach...
LORAS: I was thinking the same!
For who could ever guess I'd find here my own place,
and maybe it's the party talking, or the wine, or this peach...
BOTH: But with you... But with you...
LORAS: I'll find my place...
RENLY: I'll see your face...
BOTH: And I'm heedless of those who'll speak of our doom!
Love is a rose in bloom!
Love is a rose in bloom!
Love is a rose in bloom!
Life is bereft of gloom
with you, with you,
with you, with you,
Love is a rose in bloom!
RENLY: I mean it's crazy...
we finish each other's...
LORAS: Sentences?
I've never met someone...
RENLY: ...who thinks so much like me!
BOTH: Never! In my life!
Our mental synchronisation
can have but one explanation:
You and I were just meant to be!
Say goodbye, say goodbye,
to the pain of the past:
we don't have to feel anymore that gloom!
Love is a rose in bloom!
Love is a rose in bloom!
Love is a rose in bloom!
Life is bereft of gloom
with you, with you,
with you, with you,
Love is a rose in bloom...
LORAS: Can I say something crazy?
Will you marry my sister to cover it?
RENLY: Can I say something even crazier?
Of course!
where I do not have a friend.
The sky is pitch black, like this shame I feel inside...
Can't put up with it, Seven know I've tried...
Don't let them e'er commit a sin,
be the good boy you always were within!
Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know...
And why, of course?
Claim what's yours, claim what's yours,
what should have been yours by right!
Claim what's yours, claim what's yours,
SELYSE: And trust the Lord of Light...
STANNIS: That's how I am, and how I'll stay...
Let them celebrate!
The Seven never heard me anyway...
It's strange how the usurper
is someone so close to you,
but he's always been so childish,
and so easy to see through!
The Stormlands' reign is mine by right!
Why get this holdfast with nothing green in sight?
No woods, no spring, no love for me...
Why can it be?
Claim what's yours, claim what's yours!
Oh, I wish that he soon would die!
Claim what's yours, claim what's yours!
You'll ne'er see me smile or cry!
STANNIS: That's how I am, and how I'll stay...
Let him enjoy Storm's End...
SELYSE: Why do I cope better than you when we both bleed?
You are a freethinker, without belief in any creed!
Open your heart and mind now to the Lord of Light!
The only one True God, and thus, clear will be your sight!
STANNIS: Claim what's yours, claim what's yours,
in yourself and the Lord believe...
Claim what's yours, claim what's yours,
and let him still deceive!
For he'll know the truth when it is too late...
Let him still believe...
R'hllor will hear my prayers anyway!
FIVE YEARS OR SO LATER...
SEXY HOTTIE
At Highgarden, right before the wedding, with Brienne as the best lass and Loras as the best man, it's time for Renly to meet the in-laws, led by the elderly Queen of Thorns...
OLENNA: What's the issue now?
Why should she marry the Lord of Storm's End?
MACE: Is it the sexy way she walks?
ALERIE: Or the soft voice in which she talks?
WILLAS: Or her porcelain-white, perfect dainty feet?
MACE: And sure we know no common sellsword
could be the spouse of a Tyrell so...
OLENNA: So you've never met a maiden
who's as sensitive and sweet!
Yes, she's a bit of a sexy hottie,
though she's nearly a child...
Like, for some things too clever...
ALERIE: Can't be a child forever...
TYRELLS: Though she at first sight appears so meek and mild!
Yes, she's a bit of a sexy hottie,
but what's the reason why?
The reason why this sexy hottie's wed's
a Dornish-style ménage à trois!
BRIENNE: So Renly is betrothed to the Tyrells' daughter,
pushing me further into the friendzone...
OLENNA: That's right, so, tell me, dear!
Would you like the Lord of Storm's End
to you to be more of a friend?
MARGAERY: And what's wrong if his little secret I now keep?
MACE: You would for him quite soon be flashing
if you think he's more than dashing...
MARGAERY: I don't care if you hate Dorne! Don't look before you leap!
TYRELLS: So he's a bit of a sexy hottie,
looking out for a bride,
but what is clearer is that he'll queer her,
taking those Dornish customs in their stride!
So both of them are quite sexy hotties,
and we know what to do...
The best thing to do with these sexy hotties
is to pair up these two!
BRIENNE: SHUT UP!
I saw it coming! I saw Renly married off to a girlier girl!
(Pause.)
LORAS: So he's a bit of a sexy hottie,
and I lose to you
when we are fighting, it's the green-eyed monster,
I know it well, so I can see you through!
You lost your chance at this sexy hottie,
but don't take it too far!
For good luck in war is bad luck in love,
just admire him from afar!
OLENNA: We're not saying we're against it...
That would be, for House Tyrell,
a great master move in the game of thrones,
and power, we can tell!
Wedding off our daughter to Renly Baratheon...
Then, keep calm and carry on...
and, while the war goes on,
all our foes will be gone...
TYRELLS: And we've come to see off this sexy hottie
ere she leaves for war!
MACE: Father!
ALERIE: Mother!
WILLAS: Brother!
TYRELLS: Support each other,
like we Tyrells have always done before!
Seven Gods may bless our sexy hottie,
the Maiden incarnate!
And the bridegroom, who is the Warrior made flesh,
Why should we ever...
wait, wait,
wait, wait, wait,
wait, wait, wait,
wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,
wait, wait, wait...
SEPTON: Do you, Renly Baratheon, take Margaery Tyrell to be your lawfully wedded...
MARGAERY: We're getting married! I do! (She kisses Renly.)
RENLY: And I do. (He kisses Margaery.)
TYRELLS: Now!
I AM MUCH MORE THAN A TOMBOY
Renly's camp in the Reach, where he is now King, married, and part of a ménage à trois. A blond and blue-armoured lady knight, who can be mistaken for a man, guards the entrance to the headquarters.
BRIENNE: I am much more than a tomboy.
I am Tarth's gallant Maid...
King Renly's my creed, and for him I will bleed,
though never with him I've got laid...
But he has already got married,
and to the Commander's sis...
Those three are so close, I have nothing disclosed,
but I sense that something's amiss...
That is...
I'll never get a kiss...!
THE KNIGHTS OF SUMMER
Renly, his Queen, and his Kingsguard, including Brienne and led by Ser Loras, ride off into battle across the Reach and towards the Stormlands. A widowed Lady Stark joins them across this number:
RENLY: We're going to war,
though I've never fought one before,
and enemies will bend the knee for
the Knights of Summer...
A sword in my hand,
and riding towards my native land,
I come to aid the beleaguered strand
leading the Knights of Summer...
I just can't stay in the Reach while they threaten Storm's End,
I won't hesitate to parley with my brother once again...
There'll be no great fight,
and I will soon reach the greatest height,
sitting on the Iron Throne, flanked by the Knights
of Summer...
The war will be over in less than a year!
These things are easier than they appear!
Peacetime's a good time to stay in and coo,
but now times have changed and forth ride the... Knights of Summer!
When life get's rough, all I do is hope that peace will return,
and, maybe, from these battlefields, there's something I'll learn!
Oh, the sky will be blue
by day, and we will make it through...
When this war's finally won by the Knights
of Summer!
CATELYN: I'm going to tell him...
BRIENNE: Don't you dare!
RENLY: Of SUMMER!!!!!
THE CONFRONTATION (TRAGIC FINALE)
Renly and Stannis meet before Storm's End, the former with Brienne and Loras, the latter, who is besieging the fortress, with Davos and Melisandre. Catelyn stands in the middle, trying in vain to make peace between both sides...
RENLY: You don't have to confront me! Why is it so?
STANNIS: Please, don't shut me out again!
CATELYN: There's a common foe!
If we ally, we could end these times of war!
RENLY: 'Cause, for the first time in forever,
I can see this heart and flame...
For, if our banners were equal,
this battle would have been a shame!
Now, don't tell me you've become religious!
Where did you such faith thus find?
'Cause, for the first time in forever,
I will not be kind!
STANNIS: Renly,
leave for the Reach, and stay right there,
or bend the knee to me, and I'll make you my heir...
RENLY: Never!
STANNIS: I knew what you'd say!
You mean no good, thus, leave me be,
if you do not wish to give in to me...
I'll give you Storm's End if you bend the knee!
RENLY: Actually, you're not!
STANNIS: You're still as stubborn as before!
RENLY: Are you so absolutely sure?
STANNIS: Of what so absolutely sure?
RENLY: Think that god will help you win the war?
STANNIS: He will.
RENLY: Your host is obviously outnumbered.
STANNIS: Outnumbered, I know...
RENLY: The whole of the Stormlands and the Reach will make me king.
MELISANDRE: Look up to your sins.
The night is dark and full of terrors...
RENLY: Is that what you have to say in your defense?
'Cause, for the first time in forever,
STANNIS: My trust is in the Lord of Light...
RENLY: You should kneel before me!
STANNIS: I'll reward you if you just bend the knee...
RENLY: If you just pack up these tents...
STANNIS: Renly, please, you'll only make it worse!
RENLY: Get leaving!
STANNIS: Trust in the Lord of Light!
RENLY: We'll rout the Lannisters!
STANNIS: You're allied with the Reach!
RENLY: We'll claim the throne for House Baratheon!
STANNIS: No!
RENLY: We will claim the throne together...
STANNIS: I... I... I... I... I...
RENLY: And everything will be all right...!
STANNIS: I can't!!
That night, in Renly's headquarters, once Brienne has taken off his breastplate, the Stannis-like dementor summoned by Melisandre slips in and stabs him in the back. Renly dies in a desperate Brienne's arms. Enter Loras in haste, as Cat and Brienne run away. The curtain closes in on Loras cradling Renly's lifeless form, with Margaery by his side.
THE END.
So this filk opera is a retelling of Frozen as a RenLoras story, with a tragic ending instead of a happy one (obviously). The tragic, short life of Renly Baratheon set to the Frozen songs. The programme is the following:
Flaming Heart (red priests)
Do you want to roam the godswood? (Renly feat. Stannis)
For the first time in forever (Renly feat. Stannis)
Love is a rose in bloom (Renly/Loras)
Claim What's Yours (Stannis)
Sexy Hottie (House Tyrell as a whole)
I am much more than a tomboy (Brienne)
Knights of Summer (the Rainbow Guard as a whole)
Parley (Tragic Finale) Renly/Stannis
FLAMING HEART
Storm's End, during the wedding of Stannis and Selyse. Both are in their early teens, Renly is a toddler. Melisandre and some more red priests appear among the wedding guests.
PRIESTS OF THE LORD OF LIGHT:
Born of light and flame and good
and warm heart's blood united,
this blazing force, well understood,
will never be indicted.
So light the heart led astray,
light a flame and show the way,
never quench it, come what may,
of the good be part
and light the flaming heart!
Lord of Light! Lord of Light!
Shelter us from the night!
Lord of Light! Lord of Light!
Shelter us from the night!
Powerful, bright, light-bringing, warm!
The Lord has a magic that brings no harm!
Stronger than one, stronger than ten!
Stronger than 100 men!
Born of light and flame and good
and warm heart's blood united,
this blazing force, well understood,
will never be indicted.
So light the heart led astray,
light a flame and show the way,
never quench it, come what may,
of the good be part
and light the flaming heart...
DO YOU WANT TO ROAM THE GODSWOOD?
Storm's End is under Tyrell siege. Stannis has been promoted to older brother (since Robert's departure for the war front) and he is locked in his bedchamber or in the library doing his duties as Lord of Storm's End. A restless little eight- or nine-year-old Renly knocks on the door wistfully, looking for company, every now and then:
RENLY: Stannis?
Do you want to roam the godswood?
Come on, let's go and play!
I never see you anymore...
Come out the door!
It's like you've gone away!
We two used to be together,
and now we're not...
Oh, I wish you would tell me why!
Do you want to roam the godswood?
At least it's safe there in the godswood...
STANNIS: Go away, Renly! I don't have the time to...
RENLY: Okay, bye...
Storm's End is still under Tyrell siege. Stannis is still locked in his bedchamber or in the library doing his duties as Lord of Storm's End. A restless little Renly knocks on the door wistfully, looking for company, every now and then:
RENLY: Do you want to roam the godswood,
or ride a cockhorse 'round the halls?
I think some company is overdue,
with no one to talk to but tapestries on walls!
(To a tapestry of Lyonel Baratheon): Hang in there, Lyonel...
It gets a little lonely,
all these empty rooms,
since those green tents and ships are out there... (He looks out the parapets at the besieging host below.)
After a while, the starving garrison is fed with Davos's cargo, and Stannis comes out of his intrenchment to have a talk with their unexpected saviour. At the table, everyone is relieved.
RENLY: Stannis...
So, at last you've come out...
I was there asking where you'd been...
Promise I don't hate onions anymore,
and that's for sure...
but that host is still seen...
Stannis, we just have each other,
just you and me,
when will the host be gone?
Do you want to roam the godswood?
After a while, the Tyrell host has disappeared and the siege is broken. Robert returns from the wars and embraces Renly, overlooking Stannis, before leaving for King's Landing...
A DECADE LATER...
RENLY IS IN HIS LATE TEENS, STANNIS IN HIS LATE TWENTIES, SELYSE AS WELL
FOR THE FIRST TIME IN FOREVER
We're still in Storm's End. Stannis is leaving for Dragonstone. Renly can't feel more excited:
RENLY: The window is open, so is that door,
the Fury stands on the docks still moored,
but it will sail off today, the folk relates!
For years I have roamed these empty halls,
where all attention on me falls...
Finally, they're opening up the gates!
There'll be new and unknown people,
and that stick-in-the-mud off will wend!
At last, all's yours, Renly! Claim Storm's End!
For the first time in forever,
there'll be pleasure since the war...
For the first time in forever,
I'll be more free than before!
I don't know why I feel so excited,
when the Stormlands are my own...
'cause, for the first time in forever...
I won't be alone!
I can't wait to learn to know everyone... what if I meet THE ONE?
Tonight, imagine me fully dressed,
the lands' other lords will be impressed,
the picture of sophisticated grace!
And then, I see someone standing there,
a beautiful stranger, tall and fair,
but in my hands I will not hide my face!
Then, we'll laugh and talk all evening,
into the middle of night,
then do something else by candle-light!
For the first time in forever,
there'll be magic, there'll be fun!
For the first time in forever,
I could fall in love with someone!
And I know I'll be branded a sinner
for the wrong kind of romance...
But, for the first time in forever,
at least I'll take a chance.
Stannis and Selyse are on the docks, boarding the Fury.
STANNIS: At last, I'll leave
for Dragonstone...
but why have I been assigned
this dreary fortress on my own?
Why did he get
our ancient lands?
Will they be safe in his
inexperienced hands?
But from Renly I'll be away...
RENLY: From Stannis I'm away...
STANNIS: We'll be worlds away...
RENLY: We'll be worlds away...
Tell the guards we're opening up the gates!
STANNIS: Tell the captain to unfurl the sails!
The Fury sails away north by northeast, towards Dragonstone.
RENLY: I know routine will set in,
so it has to be today...
'Cause, for the first time in forever...
Nothing's in my way!
LOVE IS A ROSE IN BLOOM
During the celebrations of his investment as Lord of the Stormlands, an evening later on, (in which Stannis and Selyse appear, but merely reading quietly in a corner), Renly meets a younger Reach boy who has been sent to become his squire. And, not surprisingly, he is also the youngest out of three brothers! Soon, both of them discover that they are more similar than they thought:
RENLY: Can I just say something crazy?
LORAS: Bring it on!
RENLY: I love you!
LORAS: And I love you too!
RENLY: As a child, my life was ruined by gold rose on green,
and, think, I would have a crush from the Reach...
LORAS: I was thinking the same!
For who could ever guess I'd find here my own place,
and maybe it's the party talking, or the wine, or this peach...
BOTH: But with you... But with you...
LORAS: I'll find my place...
RENLY: I'll see your face...
BOTH: And I'm heedless of those who'll speak of our doom!
Love is a rose in bloom!
Love is a rose in bloom!
Love is a rose in bloom!
Life is bereft of gloom
with you, with you,
with you, with you,
Love is a rose in bloom!
RENLY: I mean it's crazy...
we finish each other's...
LORAS: Sentences?
I've never met someone...
RENLY: ...who thinks so much like me!
BOTH: Never! In my life!
Our mental synchronisation
can have but one explanation:
You and I were just meant to be!
Say goodbye, say goodbye,
to the pain of the past:
we don't have to feel anymore that gloom!
Love is a rose in bloom!
Love is a rose in bloom!
Love is a rose in bloom!
Life is bereft of gloom
with you, with you,
with you, with you,
Love is a rose in bloom...
LORAS: Can I say something crazy?
Will you marry my sister to cover it?
RENLY: Can I say something even crazier?
Of course!
CLAIM WHAT'S YOURS
In the end, Stannis, incensed by seeing his younger brother flirting with a Reach boy (both male and from the Reach) grabs Selyse by the wrist and both of them run away off into the Fury. Back to Dragonstone.
STANNIS: It's moonless night on the ocean tonight,
and the lights still light Storm's End.
A kingdom of senseless revels,where I do not have a friend.
The sky is pitch black, like this shame I feel inside...
Can't put up with it, Seven know I've tried...
Don't let them e'er commit a sin,
be the good boy you always were within!
Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know...
And why, of course?
Claim what's yours, claim what's yours,
what should have been yours by right!
Claim what's yours, claim what's yours,
SELYSE: And trust the Lord of Light...
STANNIS: That's how I am, and how I'll stay...
Let them celebrate!
The Seven never heard me anyway...
It's strange how the usurper
is someone so close to you,
but he's always been so childish,
and so easy to see through!
The Stormlands' reign is mine by right!
Why get this holdfast with nothing green in sight?
No woods, no spring, no love for me...
Why can it be?
Claim what's yours, claim what's yours!
Oh, I wish that he soon would die!
Claim what's yours, claim what's yours!
You'll ne'er see me smile or cry!
STANNIS: That's how I am, and how I'll stay...
Let him enjoy Storm's End...
SELYSE: Why do I cope better than you when we both bleed?
You are a freethinker, without belief in any creed!
Open your heart and mind now to the Lord of Light!
The only one True God, and thus, clear will be your sight!
STANNIS: Claim what's yours, claim what's yours,
in yourself and the Lord believe...
Claim what's yours, claim what's yours,
and let him still deceive!
For he'll know the truth when it is too late...
Let him still believe...
R'hllor will hear my prayers anyway!
FIVE YEARS OR SO LATER...
SEXY HOTTIE
At Highgarden, right before the wedding, with Brienne as the best lass and Loras as the best man, it's time for Renly to meet the in-laws, led by the elderly Queen of Thorns...
OLENNA: What's the issue now?
Why should she marry the Lord of Storm's End?
MACE: Is it the sexy way she walks?
ALERIE: Or the soft voice in which she talks?
WILLAS: Or her porcelain-white, perfect dainty feet?
MACE: And sure we know no common sellsword
could be the spouse of a Tyrell so...
OLENNA: So you've never met a maiden
who's as sensitive and sweet!
Yes, she's a bit of a sexy hottie,
though she's nearly a child...
Like, for some things too clever...
ALERIE: Can't be a child forever...
TYRELLS: Though she at first sight appears so meek and mild!
Yes, she's a bit of a sexy hottie,
but what's the reason why?
The reason why this sexy hottie's wed's
a Dornish-style ménage à trois!
BRIENNE: So Renly is betrothed to the Tyrells' daughter,
pushing me further into the friendzone...
OLENNA: That's right, so, tell me, dear!
Would you like the Lord of Storm's End
to you to be more of a friend?
MARGAERY: And what's wrong if his little secret I now keep?
MACE: You would for him quite soon be flashing
if you think he's more than dashing...
MARGAERY: I don't care if you hate Dorne! Don't look before you leap!
TYRELLS: So he's a bit of a sexy hottie,
looking out for a bride,
but what is clearer is that he'll queer her,
taking those Dornish customs in their stride!
So both of them are quite sexy hotties,
and we know what to do...
The best thing to do with these sexy hotties
is to pair up these two!
BRIENNE: SHUT UP!
I saw it coming! I saw Renly married off to a girlier girl!
(Pause.)
LORAS: So he's a bit of a sexy hottie,
and I lose to you
when we are fighting, it's the green-eyed monster,
I know it well, so I can see you through!
You lost your chance at this sexy hottie,
but don't take it too far!
For good luck in war is bad luck in love,
just admire him from afar!
OLENNA: We're not saying we're against it...
That would be, for House Tyrell,
a great master move in the game of thrones,
and power, we can tell!
Wedding off our daughter to Renly Baratheon...
Then, keep calm and carry on...
and, while the war goes on,
all our foes will be gone...
TYRELLS: And we've come to see off this sexy hottie
ere she leaves for war!
MACE: Father!
ALERIE: Mother!
WILLAS: Brother!
TYRELLS: Support each other,
like we Tyrells have always done before!
Seven Gods may bless our sexy hottie,
the Maiden incarnate!
And the bridegroom, who is the Warrior made flesh,
Why should we ever...
wait, wait,
wait, wait, wait,
wait, wait, wait,
wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,
wait, wait, wait...
SEPTON: Do you, Renly Baratheon, take Margaery Tyrell to be your lawfully wedded...
MARGAERY: We're getting married! I do! (She kisses Renly.)
RENLY: And I do. (He kisses Margaery.)
TYRELLS: Now!
I AM MUCH MORE THAN A TOMBOY
Renly's camp in the Reach, where he is now King, married, and part of a ménage à trois. A blond and blue-armoured lady knight, who can be mistaken for a man, guards the entrance to the headquarters.
BRIENNE: I am much more than a tomboy.
I am Tarth's gallant Maid...
King Renly's my creed, and for him I will bleed,
though never with him I've got laid...
But he has already got married,
and to the Commander's sis...
Those three are so close, I have nothing disclosed,
but I sense that something's amiss...
That is...
I'll never get a kiss...!
THE KNIGHTS OF SUMMER
Renly, his Queen, and his Kingsguard, including Brienne and led by Ser Loras, ride off into battle across the Reach and towards the Stormlands. A widowed Lady Stark joins them across this number:
RENLY: We're going to war,
though I've never fought one before,
and enemies will bend the knee for
the Knights of Summer...
A sword in my hand,
and riding towards my native land,
I come to aid the beleaguered strand
leading the Knights of Summer...
I just can't stay in the Reach while they threaten Storm's End,
I won't hesitate to parley with my brother once again...
There'll be no great fight,
and I will soon reach the greatest height,
sitting on the Iron Throne, flanked by the Knights
of Summer...
The war will be over in less than a year!
These things are easier than they appear!
Peacetime's a good time to stay in and coo,
but now times have changed and forth ride the... Knights of Summer!
When life get's rough, all I do is hope that peace will return,
and, maybe, from these battlefields, there's something I'll learn!
Oh, the sky will be blue
by day, and we will make it through...
When this war's finally won by the Knights
of Summer!
CATELYN: I'm going to tell him...
BRIENNE: Don't you dare!
RENLY: Of SUMMER!!!!!
THE CONFRONTATION (TRAGIC FINALE)
Renly and Stannis meet before Storm's End, the former with Brienne and Loras, the latter, who is besieging the fortress, with Davos and Melisandre. Catelyn stands in the middle, trying in vain to make peace between both sides...
RENLY: You don't have to confront me! Why is it so?
STANNIS: Please, don't shut me out again!
CATELYN: There's a common foe!
If we ally, we could end these times of war!
RENLY: 'Cause, for the first time in forever,
I can see this heart and flame...
For, if our banners were equal,
this battle would have been a shame!
Now, don't tell me you've become religious!
Where did you such faith thus find?
'Cause, for the first time in forever,
I will not be kind!
STANNIS: Renly,
leave for the Reach, and stay right there,
or bend the knee to me, and I'll make you my heir...
RENLY: Never!
STANNIS: I knew what you'd say!
You mean no good, thus, leave me be,
if you do not wish to give in to me...
I'll give you Storm's End if you bend the knee!
RENLY: Actually, you're not!
STANNIS: You're still as stubborn as before!
RENLY: Are you so absolutely sure?
STANNIS: Of what so absolutely sure?
RENLY: Think that god will help you win the war?
STANNIS: He will.
RENLY: Your host is obviously outnumbered.
STANNIS: Outnumbered, I know...
RENLY: The whole of the Stormlands and the Reach will make me king.
MELISANDRE: Look up to your sins.
The night is dark and full of terrors...
RENLY: Is that what you have to say in your defense?
'Cause, for the first time in forever,
STANNIS: My trust is in the Lord of Light...
RENLY: You should kneel before me!
STANNIS: I'll reward you if you just bend the knee...
RENLY: If you just pack up these tents...
STANNIS: Renly, please, you'll only make it worse!
RENLY: Get leaving!
STANNIS: Trust in the Lord of Light!
RENLY: We'll rout the Lannisters!
STANNIS: You're allied with the Reach!
RENLY: We'll claim the throne for House Baratheon!
STANNIS: No!
RENLY: We will claim the throne together...
STANNIS: I... I... I... I... I...
RENLY: And everything will be all right...!
STANNIS: I can't!!
That night, in Renly's headquarters, once Brienne has taken off his breastplate, the Stannis-like dementor summoned by Melisandre slips in and stabs him in the back. Renly dies in a desperate Brienne's arms. Enter Loras in haste, as Cat and Brienne run away. The curtain closes in on Loras cradling Renly's lifeless form, with Margaery by his side.
THE END.
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