Post by Adrian Lawley on Sept 1, 2014 15:55:39 GMT -6
The Iron Throne was a comfortable place for a man who was made to be king. A man that was born to the crown, born and raised in the royal household and given everything he had ever wanted. He was raised to be king. Taught in the arts of kingship and good governance, though this man in particular had only listened when it suited him. He was the greatest king the great land of Westeros was ever going to have, or at least this in itself was self-proclaimed. To say he was the most arrogant king would have been more correct. Literally speaking, the iron throne was not as comfortable as previously claimed. But it usually came with the security of knowing that one was king, and knowing that he who sat upon it was always above those before him without having to stand to know so. It was the greatest seat in all of Westeros. The one that came with the most power, the most influence. The only thing that could get a man from the throne was death, and in most cases he who sat on he throne usually had forces to prevent his death by any means but natural. This man was known as Adrian, as King Adrian. King Adrian of House Hades, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and of the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. And hell, it was the finest title available. It was difficult not to sit upon the throne without a smug little grin after hearing such a title declared before a petition of a commoner to the crown, or the inquiry of a noble to the king. The life of a King was a sweet life indeed, or so one would believe.
His majesty had been a fine prince indeed, and in actuality, that was when it had all started. He was a proud man, making sure he was always victorious in every chance he got. This included simple competitions like jousting tournaments. Shortly prior to the death of his father, Adrian had been entered into a jousting tournament. He refused to allow people to just "let him win" just because he was the heir to the Iron Throne, and so jousting tournaments had become extra difficult. Though in reality, this he had only enjoyed even more. It meant he could injure his opponents without being made to feel guilty (not that it he ever did feel any sort of regret) and it was a greater challenge, which he only ended up winning anyway. And so, that was the result. The prince had been victorious and he was damn smug about it too. Upon his declaration as the winner, he took a simple rose and placed it into the lap of the most beautiful woman he had seen. Not only was this the most beautiful girl present at the tournament, but it was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had a face that appeared as though it was divinely made, one that was stunningly beautiful. And her lips, well... it took a lot of effort just to not get off of his horse, stride to her side and kiss her gently. Perhaps even take her away with him afterwards. "For the most beautiful," he had said, smirking. He then winked at her and strode off on his horse, and he could tell people weren't happy with what had happened. But after all, who could argue with a man that was going to be king?
What was even better about the events that had transpired, was that there was another who ached for the heart of the beautiful woman. A high standing man of a different house, but no more powerful than any of the other Lords of the holds. It was almost hilarious to have stolen his woman away, taken her back to King's Landing to sit beside her, ruling the seven kingdoms. She was a perfect woman, and perfectly suited to be queen. There was none better. And of course, upon his father's death, Adrian, as the eldest and thus the next in line to the crown, needed a queen by his side. For some reasons if not others. He needed to continue his line, to continue the blood of the family. And what better way to do it than with a woman he was not only deeply in love with, but one with the greatest beauty the land had ever seen. Of course, upon his "stealing" her, there were much more details involved. But for now, that was of no importance. What was important was the right now, and right now, he was ruling the Seven Kingdoms with a queen at his side, actually aiding him in the more sympathetic and caring areas of ruling. Something that was unknown to him. He was a cold, heartless man. In fact, the only ounce of caring and love he ever felt was for the queen, and he was determined to keep her at his side.
Nevertheless, his having "stolen" her had caused an uproar from he who had ached for her heart before. At first, Adrian had dismissed the resistance, claiming it to be futile. After all, he was the king. This was never going to succeed. But weeks had passed, and the Lord was getting stronger. In the first few weeks, Adrian had only thought about securing his succession by the means of offspring, but now he had to ensure he secured his legacy by means of destroying the potential usurper to the crown. The Iron Throne was his. Queen Madeline was his. No mortal man could take anything from King Adrian. He was too powerful, he could move just one finger and have armies summoned to do his bidding. For a king, it didn't take much effort to get what one might want, unless, of course, there was a rebellion. And that there was.
It was clear the succession of the rebellion was getting to the King. He had positioned himself on the Iron Throne, tapping his foot impatiently as thoughts swam through his mind about the next move against the rebellion which had so far succeeded. The King's Hand had suggested that Adrian win over the hearts of the people, that he allow commoners up into the castle in order to petition the king. Until now, that was actually going well. Adrian had quickly thrown money at peasants left right and center, just so that they would leave him. But it was only then that one particular commoner came up to beg for money for his starving family. This man was from the slums. Even the ordinary peasants were of a higher rank to him, it was surprising that this man was even allowed into the castle. Such filth. The King was too good to see someone like this. Instead of listening to the peasant's request, the King got to his feet, "I am done for today." He said clearly. "Leave me." It was all frustration. In actuality, he just wanted to confront the Lord Oliver. He wanted to kill him there and then for Adrian having to just put in so much effort just to keep his backside on the throne. Though, despite his frustration, he was actually reasonably calm in comparison to what he could have been. And this soon became evident when the peasant, also frustrated, shouted 'Fine! But I hope that Lord Oliver kills you in your sleep, you're a demon king! You care for no one and you deserve to die!'
Adrian's eyes widened immediately. He had reached his capacity of frustration, he was angry. Beyond that. "Execute him!" He ordered, gesturing to the guards who were standing idly by as the remark had been made by the commoner filth. Perhaps it was this that had caused the rebellion. His arrogance and his claim that he was divinely appointed as king, that he was better than the commoner filth who merely begged every day for a coin or two to pay for their food. It was now that he needed his queen by his side, as she was the one with the sympathy. At least in comparison to him. King Adrian cared not for mercy. He was ready to kill anyone who stood in his path, and if that meant executing every sobbing commoner, every man, woman or child before him, then he wasn't past it. This was why he needed someone kindhearted on the throne beside him. Why the woman he had chosen to be his queen was perfect for the role. But soon, he took the initiative himself when the guards seized the commoner. "Wait." He said, walking down the steps so that he was about a foot away from the peasant. He was looking directly at the peasant, but his words were clearly directed to the guards who had him in his grip. "Give him some coin, make sure his family is fed for the week. I apologize." Was this really him? Well, it was the wiser side of him. The wiser side who accepted that rebellions were what killed kings, and the last thing he needed was a martyr of some sort. Only the Lord Oliver needed to die, and Adrian wanted to deal the blow himself.
The King turned then to his Hand and frowned, "do not let anyone else in. If there is anyone waiting for money for food or whatever shit they want, then give it to them. We can spare the expenses. Tell them that if they see Oliver, or a spy of his in the city," his words suddenly turned cold and dark, his tone flat and sharp as a knife ready to stab. "They must inform the Guard immediately, though they must be subtle about it. Should they do so, they will receive enough money as a reward to feed their families for the next three years. They may even receive a paid position in the royal household, if they are lucky." And then he paced back to his throne and slumped back into it, letting out a deep and frustrated sigh. "By the gods, what is going on?" He muttered, his words barely audible. It was certainly correct to say that he was stressed. Beyond stressed. There was an actual risk to his position on the throne, he needed all the help he could get. Though he wouldn't exactly say this out loud. His majesty was much to proud to actually say so. That was the job of the King's Hand. A trusted adviser. Perhaps the only person, besides his queen, that he could trust. Anyone else could easily be a spy and well, if they were. Well, then. They were going to die. Simple as. Mercy wasn't something that came natural to King Adrian, but in his time of need, in the darkest hour he needed to succeed. And that would include the application of mercy where necessary to all those who deserved it. To all those not involved in the rebellion against him. King Adrian was going to win, and he wouldn't have it any different. This was going to go down in history as the great victory of his majesty, King Adrian of House Hades, and all would come to both fear and respect him. Should he succeed, this was exactly what he needed for his prestige.
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OOC: Well, what better link to the PJ universe than to say he's of the House Hades? xD Idek how I wrote this much, but I hope it's okay and that you can bounce Maddy off of it. If you want me to change anything, just tell me. xD
Words: 1911 (My hands hurt like hell. .___.)
Tagged: Madeline Chevalier
His majesty had been a fine prince indeed, and in actuality, that was when it had all started. He was a proud man, making sure he was always victorious in every chance he got. This included simple competitions like jousting tournaments. Shortly prior to the death of his father, Adrian had been entered into a jousting tournament. He refused to allow people to just "let him win" just because he was the heir to the Iron Throne, and so jousting tournaments had become extra difficult. Though in reality, this he had only enjoyed even more. It meant he could injure his opponents without being made to feel guilty (not that it he ever did feel any sort of regret) and it was a greater challenge, which he only ended up winning anyway. And so, that was the result. The prince had been victorious and he was damn smug about it too. Upon his declaration as the winner, he took a simple rose and placed it into the lap of the most beautiful woman he had seen. Not only was this the most beautiful girl present at the tournament, but it was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had a face that appeared as though it was divinely made, one that was stunningly beautiful. And her lips, well... it took a lot of effort just to not get off of his horse, stride to her side and kiss her gently. Perhaps even take her away with him afterwards. "For the most beautiful," he had said, smirking. He then winked at her and strode off on his horse, and he could tell people weren't happy with what had happened. But after all, who could argue with a man that was going to be king?
What was even better about the events that had transpired, was that there was another who ached for the heart of the beautiful woman. A high standing man of a different house, but no more powerful than any of the other Lords of the holds. It was almost hilarious to have stolen his woman away, taken her back to King's Landing to sit beside her, ruling the seven kingdoms. She was a perfect woman, and perfectly suited to be queen. There was none better. And of course, upon his father's death, Adrian, as the eldest and thus the next in line to the crown, needed a queen by his side. For some reasons if not others. He needed to continue his line, to continue the blood of the family. And what better way to do it than with a woman he was not only deeply in love with, but one with the greatest beauty the land had ever seen. Of course, upon his "stealing" her, there were much more details involved. But for now, that was of no importance. What was important was the right now, and right now, he was ruling the Seven Kingdoms with a queen at his side, actually aiding him in the more sympathetic and caring areas of ruling. Something that was unknown to him. He was a cold, heartless man. In fact, the only ounce of caring and love he ever felt was for the queen, and he was determined to keep her at his side.
Nevertheless, his having "stolen" her had caused an uproar from he who had ached for her heart before. At first, Adrian had dismissed the resistance, claiming it to be futile. After all, he was the king. This was never going to succeed. But weeks had passed, and the Lord was getting stronger. In the first few weeks, Adrian had only thought about securing his succession by the means of offspring, but now he had to ensure he secured his legacy by means of destroying the potential usurper to the crown. The Iron Throne was his. Queen Madeline was his. No mortal man could take anything from King Adrian. He was too powerful, he could move just one finger and have armies summoned to do his bidding. For a king, it didn't take much effort to get what one might want, unless, of course, there was a rebellion. And that there was.
It was clear the succession of the rebellion was getting to the King. He had positioned himself on the Iron Throne, tapping his foot impatiently as thoughts swam through his mind about the next move against the rebellion which had so far succeeded. The King's Hand had suggested that Adrian win over the hearts of the people, that he allow commoners up into the castle in order to petition the king. Until now, that was actually going well. Adrian had quickly thrown money at peasants left right and center, just so that they would leave him. But it was only then that one particular commoner came up to beg for money for his starving family. This man was from the slums. Even the ordinary peasants were of a higher rank to him, it was surprising that this man was even allowed into the castle. Such filth. The King was too good to see someone like this. Instead of listening to the peasant's request, the King got to his feet, "I am done for today." He said clearly. "Leave me." It was all frustration. In actuality, he just wanted to confront the Lord Oliver. He wanted to kill him there and then for Adrian having to just put in so much effort just to keep his backside on the throne. Though, despite his frustration, he was actually reasonably calm in comparison to what he could have been. And this soon became evident when the peasant, also frustrated, shouted 'Fine! But I hope that Lord Oliver kills you in your sleep, you're a demon king! You care for no one and you deserve to die!'
Adrian's eyes widened immediately. He had reached his capacity of frustration, he was angry. Beyond that. "Execute him!" He ordered, gesturing to the guards who were standing idly by as the remark had been made by the commoner filth. Perhaps it was this that had caused the rebellion. His arrogance and his claim that he was divinely appointed as king, that he was better than the commoner filth who merely begged every day for a coin or two to pay for their food. It was now that he needed his queen by his side, as she was the one with the sympathy. At least in comparison to him. King Adrian cared not for mercy. He was ready to kill anyone who stood in his path, and if that meant executing every sobbing commoner, every man, woman or child before him, then he wasn't past it. This was why he needed someone kindhearted on the throne beside him. Why the woman he had chosen to be his queen was perfect for the role. But soon, he took the initiative himself when the guards seized the commoner. "Wait." He said, walking down the steps so that he was about a foot away from the peasant. He was looking directly at the peasant, but his words were clearly directed to the guards who had him in his grip. "Give him some coin, make sure his family is fed for the week. I apologize." Was this really him? Well, it was the wiser side of him. The wiser side who accepted that rebellions were what killed kings, and the last thing he needed was a martyr of some sort. Only the Lord Oliver needed to die, and Adrian wanted to deal the blow himself.
The King turned then to his Hand and frowned, "do not let anyone else in. If there is anyone waiting for money for food or whatever shit they want, then give it to them. We can spare the expenses. Tell them that if they see Oliver, or a spy of his in the city," his words suddenly turned cold and dark, his tone flat and sharp as a knife ready to stab. "They must inform the Guard immediately, though they must be subtle about it. Should they do so, they will receive enough money as a reward to feed their families for the next three years. They may even receive a paid position in the royal household, if they are lucky." And then he paced back to his throne and slumped back into it, letting out a deep and frustrated sigh. "By the gods, what is going on?" He muttered, his words barely audible. It was certainly correct to say that he was stressed. Beyond stressed. There was an actual risk to his position on the throne, he needed all the help he could get. Though he wouldn't exactly say this out loud. His majesty was much to proud to actually say so. That was the job of the King's Hand. A trusted adviser. Perhaps the only person, besides his queen, that he could trust. Anyone else could easily be a spy and well, if they were. Well, then. They were going to die. Simple as. Mercy wasn't something that came natural to King Adrian, but in his time of need, in the darkest hour he needed to succeed. And that would include the application of mercy where necessary to all those who deserved it. To all those not involved in the rebellion against him. King Adrian was going to win, and he wouldn't have it any different. This was going to go down in history as the great victory of his majesty, King Adrian of House Hades, and all would come to both fear and respect him. Should he succeed, this was exactly what he needed for his prestige.
____________________________________________________________
OOC: Well, what better link to the PJ universe than to say he's of the House Hades? xD Idek how I wrote this much, but I hope it's okay and that you can bounce Maddy off of it. If you want me to change anything, just tell me. xD
Words: 1911 (My hands hurt like hell. .___.)
Tagged: Madeline Chevalier
