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 a dereliction of duty, SIENNA & EMILE
SIENNA TYRELL
 Posted: Dec 14 2017, 08:18 PM
QUOTE.  


every scar will build my throne

WORDS: #298
TAGNAME: @Emile Hightower
NOTES: ((i hope this is okay kdkfksfjkjkjf;;;;;;;))

Droll, droll, droll. Positively droll. Sienna had very little interest in dealing with business on her father’s behalf and yet, there she was, lounging on Highgarden’s terrace, awaiting her visitor. How shall she ever learn to be a Lady Tyrell proper, without first mastering tact and diplomacy? Well, that was the general idea. She assumed. Not that it was a particularly good one.

The Hightowers had suffered the loss of their Lord and Lady following the festival in the Crownlands, a cursed event that had seen as well the death of the Targaryen King. Without her presence there, Sienna had only heard of the happening when Lady Mirva had failed to return, messengers carrying the news in her place. Irritating. Not that she felt much love or concern for her stepmother, but it was not very practical having her in Targaryen custody. Either way there wasn’t much she could do about that. The Seven forbid Mirva the Cold had actually slipped that poison into the King’s wine, yet Sienna wouldn’t have been surprised.

Lord Hightower - that was to say, the new Lord - was on his way. At least she certainly hoped he was. It would be very hard for her to feign any sort of sympathy for his loss were he to arrive late and thus waste her time. But what was it she was supposed to discuss with him, other than that? She swirled her glass of wine with a frown as she considered it. Ah - ah - yes, raising levies. A simple precaution. Just in case anything untoward began in the East.

Some time had passed when the guarded tone of her handmaiden encroached on her thoughts, “My Lady, Lord Hightower’s entourage has arrived…”

Sienna flicked her wrist dismissively, eye elsewhere, “Have the guards show him here.”


CREDIT TO ARIA
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Emile Hightower
 Posted: Dec 16 2017, 09:25 PM
QUOTE.  


Emile arrived at the place of Highgarden in a very sober mood, feeling like recent events had kicked his teeth in and shattered his world into a thousand pieces. It was hard processing it, but events around him seemed to be moving along at a regular pace to appear as if little had happened. House Hightower would still need to keep up airs and so he was off on what he was reconciled to be a 'short' diplomacy trip to reassure House allies and possibly shore up new ones for the days to come. He walked out of the carriage in garnished robes, flanked by aids and assistants. The daylight sky was dreary to him, even if the sun shone just as brightly as any other day. It couldn't lift his spirits anyhow. On the way to the tower, he was downtrodden and even snipped at his aids from time to time. He knew they were meant to help him from now on in attending to all these new duties of his, but he scarcely cared a lick for it. His eyes were still aching for tears and he wanted to just crawl up in a corner somewhere and cry. That luxury was rarely something now that would be afforded to him. The doors to the tower creaked open and he was greeted in a generously decorated foyer where servants and aids were seemingly eager to guide him someplace. Emile, at the signal of his aids, wiped away the tears and followed dutifully. True to his lessons, he tried to look the part of being calmly and in-control. Rarely was that ever the case though in situations like this. After so heavy a blow to your household, it was hard to keep emotions in check. Emile had read stories of such, story books that in hindsight hadn't meant much to him at the time. They were merely cautionary and he read them more inclusively for other details they included rather than their moral themes. Now that he was in this situation, he couldn't help but remember those stories and wonder to himself: what did they think after losing their parents? How did they shuffle through their unbridled emotions in order to achieve something great? The steps and corridors winding through the place were straightforward, though Emile took pains to try and remember where they were going. After a few minutes, they arrived at a wide door where a man courteously knocked before allowing them to slowly walk in. His steps were light and barely made a sound as he walked in and observed the outside. The terrace was neat and bountiful in beauty, occupied by a young girl of long brown hair that glowed golden just a little. She was even younger than he was, though that thought hardly played into anything he was about to say. He had already been informed prior that the circumstances of his visit were a little different from the usual here. His aids stayed behind, flanking by the door as Emile began to speak, his voice cracking a little bit throughout. "Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet with me, Miss Tyrell. It is an honor and a privilege to be able to be given an audience on such short notice. I hope you will forgive me during our meeting if I sound a little misbegotten... rest assured that I will be alright."
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