who: @casimirtully​ where: one of highgardens many public reception rooms, all grand ceilings and wall-length great windows leading overseeing the rolling fields of golden roses. this is set following the altercation between king casimir tully and prince arron lannister, though prior to the torching of the river market. 

the lion had found himself on his knees before the mighty currents of the trident. it had not been the prince of fair isle himself who had spoken to her of the way there had been a tornado of rage within the audience chamber of the river king; for he had only spoken to her of what was important. their relationship, and the way her actions were making him feel as though he had been cut open. as though by making herself so utterly vulnerable to the black and white matter of justice, she had too stripped him bare and forced him to remain beneath the scorching rays a an unnatural sun. 

with two heavy conversations remaining seared into the very forefront of her mind, her very existence, and the sight of innocent crimson blood seeping over the marble of her chambers from a voice that sounded as though it were more angel than human, the invitation had been extended. why did it feel as though a white flag had been flown? how it felt as though time after time, line after line was drew; correspondence nothing but formal greetings whilst passing one another by in hallways or in crowded rooms. 

a single letter had remained entirely unopened, let alone unread. she knew not why he had sent it: or what it had said. only that she could not bring herself to toss it into flames. and thus, it remained unopened. she moved to sit at the table, before hearing the sounds of another joining her in the room: noting his towering presence. emerald hues only looked back at him, before she turned. her head dipped in respect, hands clasped before the seven pointed star that adorned her neck. “your grace.” 

and those lines had only been blurred, or in some cases, entirely removed by the forces of those around them in the times where it felt as though there had to be something, in entirely nothing. the sight of her draped in white within a dornish courtyard, and fiery red curls beside her as they looked over passages from her book of hours; he had spoken to her of grief that day, soon after the legacy of the murder of her formidable aunt. informed her to get it out, in any way she could; and somehow, even that had been twisted. warped. the music of casimir tully and the words of guinevere lannister ringing in the sounds of children’s ears who were butchered all for their name, and the treachery of those who came before them. 

“i thank you for agreeing to meet with me; especially in the light of all that had happened.” her brother ordering a king to marry guinevere, threatening to kill his sisters, threatening to torch the riverlands with the fury of the lions.

neither of them had any way of knowing that the grief would only make so much more a prisoner of her own mind. that only a handful of weeks later, the falcon king would be butchered: too ahead of his time, too progressive in a realm that was not ready for it. and that had started with letters, letters that had meant nothing until they had meant so much more. and now, she knew they needed to speak on what had happened these recent weeks. her hand moved to hold the back of her chair, looking upon him: he looked well. he looked as though he had grown into himself, and his rule. 

there was a beat. “i know your grace sent a letter to my household some time ago. do not think i intend to act as though you did not.”

who: @casimirtully when and where: the court of kings landing, shortly following the departure of king cedric tyrell and the reach faction from the coronation festivities. king tyland lannister schedules an audience with the river king, following an interaction between himself and lysarr rogare, the head of the lyseni bank - and in complete opposition to king casimir of house tully.

truthfully, it did not take miracles to figure out what was happening beneath the cloistered alcoves of kings landing's red keep; the multiple groups and factions forced together in such close proximity, regardless of where they were technically accommodated, made certain tensions all too obvious and too clear. one could only imagine the tension that lingered in the air to know the tully king and his court remained in the same room as the rogares of lys; the crumbling of a family connection that had resulted in bloodshed and, what could be argued to be war.

it was during the winter feasts that the court of rivers had apparently put down their goblets and picked up their blades instead, venturing deeper into the country to wipe out what remained of lyseni mercenaries that had bunkered down. no doubt because they had no choice but to; to bunker down whilst engaging in guerrilla tactic was a useless move. "he appears lacking in moral limit." tyland commented, his goblet of wine to his lips as he spoke directly to the flame haired man sat beside him; though who they spoke of, was another matter entirely. "as you already know, considering the circumstances. he seems to have gotten comfortable with king jaehaerys, for the sake of cementing an alliance with the lyseni bank. their shared valyrian blood makes it all the more apparent."

tyland lannister had taken to an audience with the rightful heir of the rogare bank; according to inheritance and bloodline at least, though he knew nothing about the true capabilities of the man. the bank spoke for itself, considering the lyseni spring was renowned amongst all, even on this side of the continent - one looked at lyseni items with a sense of luxury, as though they were valuables that signified toward social statues. tyland lannister saw the rise and fall of many such a house, including the likes of the hightowers themselves; never would one have considered house hightower to be in the state it was in today, and yet here it was.

"truthfully, i suspect his sister is here to be an option for a bride. he had the doctrine issued for a reason - and he would expect to lead his nobles with his own example." admittedly a problem for the westerlands - there was only supposed to be one queen. and yet, there could be another - and with that, came more influence. more fingers in what was kings landing.

a shadow of it's former self. wealth acquired by trade, rather than physical natural resource, had it's advantage as much as it has it's downfalls; one being that they were unstable. one wrong move, and all the investments came tumbling. it had become clear what it was the rogares had set their eyes upon in regards to the westerlands and immense power of the lannisters; infamous even across the narrow sea, all heard of lannister gold and the rumours of it being cursed. to uproot their alliance with the riverlands, and instead shift interest into the mechanisms of the lyseni spring: only, tyland lannister knew that spring ended. nothing lasted forever, and as much as there was sudden rises in power, there was also shocking falls.

if he jumped onto every opportunity that came up, if he flung himself through every open door, he would find himself at a clear loss sooner rather than later. that was an importance factor in ruling; being able to evaluate what was truly more worthy in the long term, what held the biggest advantage and disadvantage. in the end, having a princess as a queen rather than remaining a princess married to a banker would prove more beneficial.

this was another house, another power gaining something of value for a short amount of time - it was not the same as the aristocratic, longstanding wealth of the noble houses of westeros. the two kings remained in the aftermath of a gathering feast between their two courts, following the announcement of the betrothal of king casimir tully and princess guinevere lannister - one by one the courtiers had taken their leave, until it was only the two kings left in the room. tyland watched the retreating figures of his brother and his sister, noting the way in which she briefly looked upon the pair of them before biding them goodnight; the sooner the marriage went through, the better. "but i suspect he was disappointed to know the betrothal is firmly set in stone."