The Funeral of His Grace, Maekar Targaryen, the First of His Name, 233 AL

[Lucius Malfoy]

In the two hundred and thirty-third year since the landing of Aegon, the great and martial king, Maekar Targaryen, son of Daeron the Good, perished in battle. Though his death did not bring defeat, his fall has brought sorrow to the realm. His deeds remembered in the song The Hammer and Anvil and for being known as a great commander and noble king in his time. The funeral had a procession from Summerhall, his personal holding to the capital of King's Landing where he would be buried. Seven Septons surround the body as they prepared it for burial. His great spiked crown rested upon his head, his body cladded in his traditional black armor with the Targaryen crest upon his chest plate. His hands held the great mace he wielded in battle. His death left a vacuum in power, for no heir was named among his offspring and grandchildren. What will the future hold with such a warrior king having departed for the Seven above.

[jacb547]

At one of the front rows of the mourning crowd, as befited their positions, three Starks stood tall dressed in Black. Tallest among them was Lord Torrhen who wore a fine black fur cape and looked grim, he was brown haired and brown bearded. Besides him was his son Jon, dressed in a black doublet with a fur cloak, he looked like a younger version of his father except he was not grim but instead bore a bored expression as he often did in such occasions. Smallest and prettiest of the Starks was young Lady Jeyne, with long dark dress as befited this occasion and with her hair falling on the left side of her face covering one of her red cheeks, she looked close to tears even if she did not know the King but the mood of the mournfull occasion saddened her.

On the back of the crowd, Lord Brax stood alone his expression was solemn but he did not look particularly sad. For him the death of a King meant only possibilities, specially a King who had left no clear heir. Much would happen on the following days he was sure but for now all were sad, or at least pretending to be.

[Oznerol]

Lord Tully and his sisters arrive to the ceremony. They all wear black robes, as a symbol of mourning, with embroidered silver trouts, the sigil of their noble House. The pious Cersei holds the "Seven Pointed Star" in her hands, and whispers prayers. Barbra, uninterested in the corpse, looks for atractive noble Lords. The youngest, Lysa, looks around excited and nervous, she wears a strage outfit, boy-like.
Lord Edmond Tully, young, red-haired, with striking blue eyes, stares the Hall, calmly, where Maekar laid, crowned and armoured, as the heroic Kings of Old.

Such a waste... He was a good, energetic King, what we needed to rule these Kingdoms. But now, he who was marcial and a powerful knight is dead, by a rebel's sword, Gods curse the traitors.
And he hasn't left a clear heir. Gods. I can smell trouble ahead if we don't find a fitting candidate for the throne...

Tully notices Lord Stark and approaches him. Bows slightly, but kindly:

"My Lord Torrhen. A shame we met again in such unfortunate and sorrowful circumstances"

[Pinkerton]

He is resting

The third son thought as he came closer to his father's remains

He is resting in death as he had never rested in life

Aemon had not shed a tear. Maekar would have not let him so he didn't
He wore a long tunic, held at his hips by a belt. Braies covered his legs. The many colors of his chain shone as he walked at the side of the late king

[Pontifex Maximus]

@Poach

Now was the time to tread cautiously...but not too cautiously. If I don't acknowledge my own birthright, how can I expect others to? He chose his next words carefully, looking Ser Rickard directly in the eye. "You speak true, ser. I can only pray to the gods that I am able to assume the mantle of leadership as effectively. Surely some trials lie ahead."

Lord Darklyn sits with his wife in the middle of the crowd, both dressed in black, after the two had approached and paid their respects to the dead king.
...

The Prince Aegon Targaryen cast a discerning eye among the guests to the wake, recognizing Lord Darklyn, he could not very well overlook such an important visitor. If his political machinations were to bear fruit, he could not afford to not personally address such a guest in the hopes of winning his sympathies. He made his way over to the man. "Lord Darkyln, I thank you for your presence here today. Such a show of support among my father's most faithful bannerman lifts my spirits."

He is resting

The third son thought as he came closer to his father's remains

He is resting in death as he had never rested in life

Aemon had not shed a tear. Maekar would have not let him so he didn't
He wore a long tunic, held at his hips by a belt. Braies covered his legs. The many colors of his chain shone as he walked at the side of the late king

Aegon admired his brother's fortitude. He himself was feeling rather miserable, but he took solace and strength from Aemon's own show of strength. Stil, he was acutely aware of Aemon's own claim to the throne. It was vital to neutralize such a threat. Aemon must remain where he was supposed to remain. "I cannot believe he is gone." Aemon said with sincere sorrow in his voice.

[Pinkerton]

Aegon admired his brother's fortitude. He himself was feeling rather miserable, but he took solace and strength from Aemon's own show of strength. Stil, he was acutely aware of Aemon's own claim to the throne. It was vital to neutralize such a threat. Aemon must remain where he was supposed to remain. "I cannot believe he is gone." Aemon said with sincere sorrow in his voice.

He died as he lived, Aegon, fighting. I took comfort in knowing that now he sits besides the Warrior

Aemon's stern face turn back to his father

How are Jaeherys and the others holding up?

[Xion]

The Prince Aegon Targaryen cast a discerning eye among the guests to the wake, recognizing Lord Darklyn, he could not very well overlook such an important visitor. If his political machinations were to bear fruit, he could not afford to not personally address such a guest in the hopes of winning his sympathies. He made his way over to the man. "Lord Darkyln, I thank you for your presence here today. Such a show of support among my father's most faithful bannerman lifts my spirits."
.

Elwood stands up and bows to Aegon. "The realm has lost a great man today, my prince. It would be dishonoring my oath as a direct vassal of the crown if I was not here to pay respects to him one last time."

[Pontifex Maximus]

He died as he lived, Aegon, fighting. I took comfort in knowing that now he sits besides the Warrior

Aemon's stern face turn back to his father

How are Jaeherys and the others holding up?

Aegon nodded, his brother was nothing if not wise. "As could be expected. They mourn, tears staining their fair cheeks, and yet my mind is fretful. At such a time of uncertainty sadness may turn to bloodshed as the unnamed inheritance of our father looms evermore prominent in their minds." Suggestion would do for now, a mere feeling out of Aemon's attitudes.

Elwood stands up and bows to Aegon. "The realm has lost a great man today, my prince. It would be dishonoring my oath as a direct vassal of the crown if I was not here to pay respects to him one last time."

"Well said, my lord." Several moments passed in silence. "Alas, if my father had any deficiency it was in his failure to name a clear heir. I fear it may bring war if a clear and suitable hear cannot be agreed upon. A simple naming would have simplified matters, and I feel that at this time I must remain a stalwart bastion of strength for the realm. I am ready to step forward and claim what is mine by right. I await others to proclaim in my favor as well."

[Pinkerton]

Aegon nodded, his brother was nothing if not wise. "As could be expected. They mourn, tears staining their fair cheeks, and yet my mind is fretful. At such a time of uncertainty sadness may turn to bloodshed as the unnamed inheritance of our father looms evermore prominent in their minds." Suggestion would do for now, a mere feeling out of Aemon's attitudes

Aemon gritted his teeth. Children do not worry about inheritance, men do

Do we have to talk about this now? We're in the middle of our lord father's funeral. Who's ass will sit on the throne is a problem we can discuss later

He looked around, annoyed

Once the ceremony is over, I'll meet you at father's old quarters. Alone

[Xion]

"Well said, my lord." Several moments passed in silence. "Alas, if my father had any deficiency it was in his failure to name a clear heir. I fear it may bring war if a clear and suitable hear cannot be agreed upon. A simple naming would have simplified matters, and I feel that at this time I must remain a stalwart bastion of strength for the realm. I am ready to step forward and claim what is mine by right. I await others to proclaim in my favor as well."

"Indeed, my prince. Whenever a Targaryen King has not proclaimed a clear heir it has typically brought war and the horrors that accompany it to the realm." Darklyn thinks in silence for a few moments and nods. "You have a strong claim, my prince. But so does your brother...and the son of the madman." "But will the realm support you?"

[Zethira]

Princess Rhaelle stood among the invitees to pay her respects to her grandfather. She did not stand at the front, of course, as those seats were reserved for her aunts and uncles, Maekar's children, but she could still see enough, unlike some of the courtiers that had been placed further back, between the Targaryens and the Kingsguard tasked with keeping them safe. She could see the Silent Sisters around the body, but she could not quite make out what they were doing so she willed down her curiosity. She would ask her Septa about it later, or perhaps the Maester would know as well. A brief movement of uncle Aemon had her catch a glimpse of the mace Maekar had supposedly wielded in battle, a large, heavy looking thing she didn't think she could even lift, let alone swing around like her brothers would be expected to do in five or so years. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, the cold from the stone floor starting to creep up her feet and she didn't want to have her leg cramp up if she could help it.

[jacb547]

Torrhen eyes Lord Tully and returns the bow, Jon noticing the Lord's sisters is suddently alot more interesting in the occasion "Not that one, too pious... That one dresses like me... Oh yes, she will do perfectly." The young Stark eyes Barbra Tully and gives her a wink and a smile. Lord Stark replies to Lord Tully. "Sad indeed, Lord Edmund, we were on our way to Riverrun when new reached us of the King's passing. As a loyal vassal I felt obliged to come to the funeral, but I also hoped to meet you here."

[Oznerol]

Torrhen eyes Lord Tully and returns the bow, Jon noticing the Lord's sisters is suddently alot more interesting in the occasion "Not that one, too pious... That one dresses like me... Oh yes, she will do perfectly." The young Stark eyes Barbra Tully and gives her a wink and a smile. "Sad indeed, Lord Edmund, we were on our way to Riverrun when new reached us of the King's passing. As a loyal vassal I felt obliged to come to the funeral, but I also hoped to meet you here."

"Yes, we were preparing to greet your Lordship when these news reached us. A most unfortunate event. May I present you my sisters"

"Cersei"

She bows, a little bit tense and scared

"Barbra"

She bows, and shows the Stark her more than plenty breast. She was slender, and while she lacked the red hair of her siblings Barbra was sensual, well-build. Barbra blinks too, with a hint of roguery.

Hummm... muscular, handsome, and dark haired. If not for the corpse I'd led him to the nearest chamber and...

"And the little Lysa"
Bows deeply, amused.

[Pontifex Maximus]

Aegon stood near to the body, his eyes downcast. His father's death left the realm in a dire situation, Aegon understood this, and he felt the weight of fate on his shoulders. Aemon was the rightful heir as his older brother, of course, but his vocation left things rather tense. He indeed did mourn the death of his father, he was not being insincere, but his mind wandered to the future. Would Aemon pursue his claim? Would the path be laid bare before him to assume his unlikely inheritance? He would not deny that his training as a knight under Ser Duncan had left him unprepared for greater political questions, but he could also not deny his burning desire to be the heir...to ascend the Iron Throne...surely he would not be unsupported.

He approached the Starks, temporarily casting aside his own melancholy. "My Lord Stark, thank you for attending this wake. It would have meant much to my father." he began, maintaining every ounce of political decorum he could muster. His deep, purple eyes searched Stark, looking for evidence of his loyalties.

[Xion]

Lord Darklyn sits with his wife in the middle of the crowd, both dressed in black, after the two had approached and paid their respects to the dead king.
---
In the far back of the crowd, leaning on one of the pillars with an ornate pipe being twirled between two of her fingers is the Princess of Dorne, Lucia Martell. Wearing a black and dark orange Dornish dress, the Princess ambivalently stares around at the crowd, then back to her brother, who stands next to her in black garb as well. "Such a shame, a great King not naming an heir. I suppose history loves repetition." she whispers whimsically to him, a partially mischievous smile forming on her lips. "Yes, sister. If there is more than one claimant, the northerners may feud once more over the Iron Throne." he replies, stoically. The Princess sighs and puts her pipe in her mouth for a moment, as if to start smoking from it, but decides against it and simply holds it in her left hand as she continues to watch alongside her brother and several guards.

Where the Princess was supposed to sit is Lucifer and Corenna Martell, the eldest children of the Princess, with Lucifer being the heir to Dorne. The two are dressed in dark colors as well, with Corenna wearing a slightly more conservative dress than her mother. The pair remain quiet and respectful, knowing their mother is probably watching from wherever she went after paying her respects to the dead king, likely over to talk to her brother who was in the back of the crowd with their handpicked guards for this event.

[Poach]

House Arryn stood quietly near the front, with the other Lords Paramount, answering the summons along with the rest of the Realm to put the previous King to rest and hear the reading of his will. As with most of the aristocracy, the extended family was present in the city, but only the immediate landed branch were assigned space within the Great Sept to hear the High Septon speak. The clothing was of subdued Arryn colours, blues featuring in faded tones to reflect the solemn occasion, the men wearing ceremonial swords and clothing of silk, leather and furs, while the ladies wore dresses of a variety of fine material.

* * *

The three Lefford men stood quietly, like all else in the hall, among the Westerlands delegation. They all wore clothes of silk and leather, in dark colours, each with a humble Lefford sigil sewn onto the breast. Ceremonial swords hung at their waists, as was customary of the Knightly class.

[jacb547]

Lord Stark returns the bows "I am most honoured fine ladies." Jeyne nervously returned the bows with a thin smile, Jon however was not so educated, perhaps he had forgotten or perhaps he simply did not care. Young Stark approached Barbra, his eyes shining with lust, he took her hand and raised her up "You need not bow my lady." Althought if this wasn't a funeral I wouldn't mind if you stayed bowed a bit more. Jon Stark seemed oblivious to the fact that his father, his sister, her sisters and Lord Tully were watching.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lord Stark gives a slight bow to Aegon, his face was grim and few could be made of it. "I am most honoured." He knew it was likely a lie, why would Maekar be happy he was at his funeral? Still he played along,

[jacb547]

Lord Stark gives a slight bow to Aegon, his face was grim and few could be made of it. "I am most honoured." He knew it was likely a lie, why would Maekar be happy he was at his funeral? Still he played along,

OOC: Ponti I've replied as Stark.

[Pontifex Maximus]

Lord Stark gives a slight bow to Aegon, his face was grim and few could be made of it. "I am most honoured." He knew it was likely a lie, why would Maekar be happy he was at his funeral? Still he played along,

"My father's death leaves us in, unfortunately, a confusing position." Aegon chose his words carefully, knowing that Stark's approval of his ascendency would be vital. "A display of unity and of loyalty would, in these most uncertain times, provide my father with solace. He rules wisely, fairly, and well. The continued peace and unity of the realm was always foremost among his thoughts. His sudden death shall not be allowed to sully this reputation. Alas that my brothers no longer live to provide us with a clear successor." His first true half-truth. "I only pray that I will be worthy of my birthright when I come into my inheritance. As ever I will rely upon the lords of Westeros to provide me with counsel and advice."

[Oznerol]

Lord Stark returns the bows "I am most honoured fine ladies." Jeyne nervously returned the bows with a thin smile, Jon however was not so educated, perhaps he had forgotten or perhaps he simply did not care. Young Stark approached Barbra, his eyes shining with lust, he took her hand and raised her up "You need not bow my lady." Althought if this wasn't a funeral I wouldn't mind if you stayed bowed a bit more. Jon Stark seemed oblivious to the fact that his father, his sister, her sisters and Lord Tully were watching.

They nod politely.

Barbra answers the Young Wolf:

"You diserve at least some courtesy, my dear Ser, but I promise I won't bow until you wish so"

She hits with her fingers his belly, what she feels at touch like carved in stone. Satisfied she chuckles.

Edmonds eyes wide opened:

"Behave properly sister, we are in a funeral"

She is flirting with the King dead before their eyes... What did my father when he bed my mother that night? Gods...

Turns to Lord Stark

"I apologize my Lord Torrhen for her behavior, but it seems your son has chosen the Tully he desires. Shall we have an agreement? Ser Jon Stark and Barbra Tully, married, before the gaze of the Old and the New Gods!"

ooc: It seems that Pontifex plainly ignores the LP of the Riverlands. Well...

Lord Tully watches as the Prince aproaches him and Lord Stark. After he speaks with Lord Stark, Lord Tully bows:

"My Prince Aegon, how our heart rejoice, even in this sorrowful event, to see your Grace"