Quick A/N: Before I start let me tell you this is to set up next chapter. Which is gonna have Time-Skips aplenty, but this is to progress the character's individual development and to set up the Canon Plotline I have in mind. Everything and nothing will be as it happened in cannon, since it's prehistory I can mess around a little more than I probably should, but it is all in order to make Cannon far more interesting. Now that end part last time? Let's see how Cersei deals with her urges hmm?
Also fair warning there's an eleven year old sucking another eleven year old off in here, but it's purely for the story development, also Some of the stuff with Cersei is happening while parts of it are imagined, don't forget that she's an inbred crazy.
Also just so you fellas know, there's more POV shifts than Time-Skips in this chapter, I felt filthy writing that one half lemon, but it serves a purpose, as does Joanna's survival, A Game of Thrones,makes for a far more interesting read with the Lady Joanna in it no?
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(Casterly Rock, Lannisport, The Westerlands, The Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, Westeros, GoT Universe)
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(Time-Skip: One Year Later: 273 AC)
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It was 273 AC, the year of Joanna's Death and Tyrion's Birth. In that year, Rogar had formed a rapport with Cersei, but now her Mother was surprisingly still alive, probably barren but still alive nonetheless. She was up and about but still somewhat ill, but mostly stuck with a very bad fever and apparent headaches, however she was still rather strong in her health department, and weakened as she was she was expected to pull through nevertheless. Watching Cersei from the door as she reaches out to twist Little Tyrion's Cock, Rogar strides over and grabs her hand mid reach.
"Cersei, I know your grieving for the pain your mother went through, but the important thing is you still have your mother." Rogar says.
"What do you know of my pain?" Cersei demands heatedly try to wrench her hand away.
"I know more about that kind of pain than you will ever feel." Rogar snarls, before dragging Cersei to the wall where he presses her against it and places her hand on his chest.
"You feel that? My beating heart? To pay for my life my mother and twin sister had to die. You say it like I know nothing about how you feel and your only half right, because my pain is far worse. I have to live every single day knowing my mother died to bring me into the world, and my sister had to die as well. So don't you dare to presume to think otherwise.'' Says Rogar his eyes furious.
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(Cersei Lannister POV)
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His eyes were enchanting. His grip firm, it made her curious what else about him was firm. The servants gossiped, joked perversely when they didn't know she was listening in, giving her a rough idea of what went where, what to do, and how to do it. Jaime would be her first choice...but those eyes.
In a quick motion she leans forward and kisses him.
She delights in the fact that after a momentary surprise he begins to reciprocate.
She and Jaime had shared intimacy such as this in the past, but this felt right to her.
She felt his hands slip into her skirts, pawing at her. She gasped out a throaty moan when he touched her lower lips.
''Well, well, is my Little Lioness in love?'' A voice asked causing Cersei to grow aghast at being caught by her mother....and a little disappointed at it being over.
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(POV Shift: Rogar Arryn)
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For but a moment his adult Instincts took over, he essentially molested Cersei. At least Lady Joanna didn't see that part.
He wish he could fuck someone right now, but hitting something hard repeatedly would have to temporarily suffice for now....
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(Time-Skip: 3 Years Later)
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(POV Shift: Cersei Lannister)
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Jealousy burned a hole in Cersei's gut as she spied upon Melara and Rogar doing Perverted things. Melora recently flowered, something Cersei had yet to experience. Over the course of the last three years Cersei had grown significantly closer to Rogar, yet when she confided in him her father's plan to wed her to Rhaegar he grew distant.
By chance she noticed Rogar and Melara sneaking off, and after following them she immediately wanted to strangle the greedy little bitch for taking away Rogar's affections. She wanted to storm in, but she was rooted in place. Melara was clumsy in her handling of his Spear, she couldn't even take him very far into her mouth. His pleasure was clearly fake.
''Cersei. Ah gods Cersei! Your so good.''
There it was.
Melara was pleasuring him, but he was imagining it was her.
Perhaps after giving Rhaegar sons aplenty Rogar would give her daughters.
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(POV Shift: Rogar Arryn)
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Seducing Melara proved simple enough, letting Cersei notice their sneaking off without being too obvious was the hard part.
Now with his Cock out or rather in Melara's hands and mouth all his pent up Sexual frustration got some of the air let out of his tires. She was quite clumsy, but her saving Grace was her expert using of her tongue. It wasn't difficult to imagine it was Cersei blowing him, but even so this was part of the plan. He personally didn't like needing to engage in a minor sexual encounter with such an otherwise non-existent character as Melara Heatherspoon, but if the rapport he'd built carefully and the increasing affection that he'd built up was all in order to get Cersei to confide in him her betrothal at which point he'd manipulate her by being distant. It was all in order to facilitate his end goal of being Myrcella and Tommen's biological father in the effort of getting Arryn Blood onto the Iron Throne someday whilst eventually also making the Vale Independent.
Rhaegar was a lover of prophecies, well here's the gods damned truth: if it wasn't for that Hightower Bitch a Girl with Arryn Blood in her veins would've ruled ably and strongly, and that women was Rhaenyra Targaryen, and a son or daughter of his would wear the Crown someday, By Wit or by War!
But preferably the former if there was any sort of a choice in the matter.
But in any case it was the pre-stages of his foundation plans.....
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(POV Shift: Cersei Lannister)
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The crone's tent was dark, with a tall peaked roof. She did not want to go in, no more than she had wanted to at ten, but the other girls were watching her, so she could not turn away. They were three in the dream, as they had been in life. Fat Jeyne Farman hung back as she always did. It was a wonder she had come this far. Melara Hetherspoon was bolder, older, and prettier, in a freckly sort of way. Wrapped in roughspun cloaks with their hoods pulled up, the three of them had stolen from their beds and crossed the tourney grounds to seek the sorceress. Melara had heard the serving girls whispering how she could curse a man or make him fall in love, summon demons and foretell the future.
In life the girls had been breathless and giddy, whispering to each other as they went, as excited as they were afraid. The girls wandered for a long while before they found the crone's tent. By the time they did all the torches were guttering out. Cersei watched the girls huddling, whispering to one another.
Lord Tywin's daughter was the first through the flap, with Melara close behind her. Jeyne Farman came last, and tried to hide behind the other two, the way she always did.
The inside of the tent was full of smells. Cinnamon and nutmeg. Pepper, red and white and black. Almond milk and onions. Cloves and lemongrass and precious saffron, and stranger spices, rarer still. The only light came from an iron brazier shaped like a basilisk's head, a dim green light that made the walls of the tent look cold and dead and rotten. Had it been that way in life as well? Cersei could not seem to remember.
The sorceress was sleeping. Without a word, she threw off her cloak, kicked the witch's bed, and said, "Wake up, we want our futures told."
When Maggy the Frog opened her eyes, Jeyne Farman gave a frightened squeak and fled the tent, plunging headlong back into the night. Plump stupid timid little Jeyne, pasty-faced and fat and scared of every shadow.
The old woman's eyes were yellow, and crusted all about with something vile. In Lannisport it was said that she had been young and beautiful when her husband had brought her back from the east with a load of spices, but age and evil had left their marks on her. She was short, squat, and warty, with pebbly greenish jowls. Her teeth were gone and her dugs hung down to her knees. You could smell sickness on her if you stood too close, and when she spoke her breath was strange and strong and foul. "Begone," she told the girls, in a croaking whisper.
"We came for a foretelling," The young Cersei told her.
"Begone," croaked the old woman, a second time.
"We heard that you can see into the morrow," said Melara. "We just want to know what men we're going to marry."
"Begone," croaked Maggy, a third time.
The girl with the golden curls put her hands upon her hips. "Give us our foretelling, or I'll go to my lord father and have you whipped for insolence."
"Please," begged Melara. "Just tell us our futures, then we'll go."
"Some are here who have no futures," Maggy muttered in her terrible deep voice. She pulled her robe about her shoulders and beckoned the girls closer. "Come, if you will not go. Fools. Come, yes. I must taste your blood."
Melara paled, but not Cersei. A lioness does not fear a frog, no matter how old and ugly she might be. Instead of running away, she took the dagger Maggy offered her, and ran the twisted iron blade across the ball of her thumb. Then Melara did too.
In the dim green tent, the blood seemed more black than red. Maggy's toothless mouth trembled at the sight of it. "Here," she whispered, "give it here." When Cersei offered her hand, she sucked away the blood with gums as soft as a newborn babe's. It sickened Cersei to feel how queer and cold her mouth felt upon her finger.
"Three questions may you ask," the crone said, once she'd had her drink. "You will not like my answers. Ask, or begone with you."
The girls did not have sense enough to be afraid.
"When will I wed the Prince?" she asked.
"Never. You will wed the King, but love the Lord."
Beneath her golden curls, the girl's face wrinkled up in puzzlement. After a moments hesitation, she took those words to mean that she would not marry Rhaegar until after his father Aerys had died. "I will be queen, though?" asked the young Lioness.
"Aye." Malice gleamed in Maggy's yellow eyes. "Queen you shall be . . . until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear."
Anger flashed across the child's face. "If she tries I will have my brother and Rogar kill her." Even now she would not stop, willful child as she was. She still had one more question due her, one more glimpse into her life to come. "Will the king and I have children?" she asked.
"Oh, aye. Six-and-ten for him, and five for you."
That made no sense to Cersei. Her thumb was throbbing where she'd cut it, and her blood was dripping on the carpet. How could that be? She wanted to ask, but she was done with her questions.
The old woman was not done with her, however. "Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds for two of the five," she said. "And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you."
"What is a valonqar? Some monster?" The golden girl did not like that foretelling. "You're a liar and a warty frog and a smelly old savage, and I don't believe a word of what you say. Come away, Melara. She is not worth hearing."
"I get three questions too," her friend insisted. And when Cersei tugged upon her arm, she wriggled free and turned back to the crone. "Will I marry Jaime? Or....Rogar?" she blurted out, before growing shy as she utters Rogar's name.
You stupid greedy bitch! The Golden Lannister thought, angry even now as she remembered . Jaime does not even know you are alive. Back then her brother lived only for swords and dogs and horses . . . and for her, his twin.
"Not Jaime, Rogar, nor any other man," said Maggy. "Worms will have your maidenhead. Your death is here tonight, little one. Can you smell her breath? She is very close."
"The only breath we smell is yours," said Cersei. There was a jar of some thick potion by her elbow, sitting on a table. She snatched it up and threw it into the old woman's eyes. In life the crone had screamed at them in some queer foreign tongue, and cursed them as they fled her tent...
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(POV Shift: Rogar Arryn)
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Cersei and Melara fled, and now the stage was set for his first opening moves as a currently unrecognized and unknown Contender in the Great Game of Thrones....
Quick Author's Note: This Chapter is intended to serve three primary and one secondary Purposes. The First primary reason is to showcase Rogar's Goals and Plans for the Vale of Arryn and how otherwise unimportant Characters such as Waymar and Robar Royce will play a part in this and/or provide room for Character and Plot Development.
The Second primary reason is to create a Chapter that improves the overall quality of the story, characters, and development without to much usage of Time-Skip's, POV Shifts, Exposition, etc.
The Third primary reason is to showcase Rogar's progression into a man grown. This Chapter is written in a that will help make things interesting down the line as it shows how certain characters feel about Rogar politically or personally, but it also shows a growing independence and foreshadows his future moniker. Which your more than quite welcome to guess or throw around ideas, so long as you can provide a suitable reason for consideration. Otherwise I'll stick with my current top contender....which you don't get to learn just yet.
The Secondary Reason is to increase the length and depth of this chapter and it's succeeding ones by at least five hundred words on an average write. This is the goal so that I can get more out of a chapter without too much Exposition and too little dialog.
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(Casterly Rock, Lannisport, The Westerlands, The Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, Westeros, GoT Universe)
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(Time-Skip: One Year Later: 274 AC)
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(Rogar Arryn POV)
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Rogar was packing his bag, he expressed his desire to return home and live amongst his people once more, and Lady Joanna allowed him a week to get his affairs in order before his journey home. He was going home now, for more than the fact the Defiance of Duskendale was this year, a certain widow had been made, making his return necessary. Myranda Royce was freshly widowed, making him ready to seek out a betrothal. Lady Myranda was freshly flowered and freshly widowed, a nice combination for courting.
Besides which, he liked Myranda Royce's character and her beautifully busty figure of course.
But then again this was more for the sake of appearances and strengthening his Control in the Vale of Arryn for when he was eventual undisputed Ruler of the Vale of Arryn, The Trident, and The North. Even if to get those two extra Kingdoms he had to fuck a child into the belly of Sansa and Arya both, a child per Kingdom...but hopefully it wouldn't come to that, and if it did it would only be necessary to impregnate Sansa. He had a thing for Blondes and Redheads after all.
Still he'd try to make it a happy marriage, mostly for Myranda's sake.
However Myranda Royce was far more important than what one might think, outside of Ysilla Royce, she was the only unwed Royce Women in Cannon and as such had a distinct albeit distant blood claim on Winterfell. Ysilla's was stronger, but She wasn't even born yet. So Myranda would have to suffice. And on another note it granted the Cadet Branch of House Royce with no lands of their own increased stature and influence.
Rogar knew of at least three unwed and eligible Women in his own Families Cadet Branch, yet spurned them in favor of Myranda Royce. Now these Women were directly descended from House Grafton,The Lords of Gulltown. Gulltown was the Vale's only Real Port of any real Value, so this raised a question about why he'd spurn a match with them. The answer was because of the fact that he intended to raise new Castle's and expand, renovate, and update old ones.
He'd name Lord Nestor Royce Lord Of The Gates of The Moon, and Take Myranda Royce for his Lady Wife, bringing House Royce of The Gates of The Moon into existence and He'd upgrade Sky, Stone, and Snow and one day name Waymar, Albar, and Robar Royce's to one of the three Way Castle's before raising two Seats for them specifically.
He wanted to increase the Vale's population and it's military might before launching his plans of revolutionizing Westeros Technologically speaking starting with the Vale of Arryn. He knew how to produce higher quality liquor, better metals and alloys, and how to modernize the Vale's Armies through tactics and training alone.
But for the moment it was time to say goodbye to Casterly Rock and say hello once more to The Eyrie, or The Dreary as he once coined it growing up much to his Father's bemusement at that particular time.
Right now he was a little nervous, it'd been years since he'd been home and seen his father and his future lands. He'd have to make sure that he'd stop in at Runestone on his way home, but otherwise it's a straight shot home...
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(POV Shift: Cersei Lannister)
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Rogar was returning home to the Vale. There was a time in Cersei's life where she only imagined Marrying Rhaegar and before him Jaime. But now Rhaegar was denied her, and while she hadn't given up hope of wedding the Crown Prince, she slowly began to entertain the prospect of a marriage to House Arryn, or more specifically to Rogar himself.
She'd never stepped foot inside the Eyrie, but to hear Rogar tell it, it was a Dreary place, one he found distinct lly absent of much warmth, figuratively or literally.
Cersei liked to think she could bring such warmth and color to such a place, and the idea of being alone with Rogar in his bed was far from unpleasant. in fact it proved quite stimulating to her.
A knock at her door broke her from her thoughts.
''Enter.'' She called and in stepped Rogar, his light blonde hair and grayed blue eyes locked into a chiseled if young frame. Rogar when not entertaining her or studying with little Tyrion was to be found training in the Courtyard relentlessly, he'd knocked Uncle Tygett flat on his ass half a month ago with a heavy bash of his majestic Shield. Much the same as he did Uncle's Kevan and Gerion several months before that. His arms were muscled as a result of favoring an otherwise defensive weapon as an extremely dangerous weapon of Defense and/or Offense.
Simply standing there admiring him was enough to break down her ambitions of a Royal Crown.
''I've said my goodbyes to everyone, except for you. Tyrion didn't take it well, but he was happy when I invited him to The Vale of Arryn. As for you Cersei, so long as you Remain no less beautiful as you are now, you will always be welcome in my halls. Goodbye....my love.'' Fogar whispered the last two words so softly she almost didn't hear him, and she lacked any means to respond before he enveloped her lips in a deep kiss.
As soon as it ends he smiles sadly at her before walking away....
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(POV Shift: Joanna Lannister)
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Cersei was depressed. Young Rogar had left two hours ago, and was now likely nearly halfway out of the Westerlands.
Joanna recalled the discussion she'd had with Tywin at the Tourney of Lannisport held in honor of Prince Viserys Birth after Young Rogar bested Ser Arthur Dayne in the Pre-Tourney Sparring.
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(FLASHBACK START)
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It was the day before the fanfare was set to start. Young Rogar stood beside a Shield several heads taller than him, with a Slightly shorter Longsword in his offhand, but one that wasn't quite a Shortsword. He was stood in front of a panting Ser Arthur Dayne knelt in defeat.
''He's been trained well.'' Tywin notes beside her.
''Not by us, all by his own hand. If The King Rejects us, Rogar might be a better suited alternative. Besides the prince may prove more willing to wed his son to our future granddaughter.'' Joanna said slightly worried that the King wouldn't see the sense in marrying Crown Prince Rhaegar to Cersei and providing a hopeful alternative.
''The King isn't so far gone as to not see the sense of this marriage.'' Said Tywin.
''Even So, Rogar has Targaryen Blood through the Female Line, making him a better match should the King decline our suggestion.'' Said Joanna.
''We'll cross that bridge if we come to it.'' Tywin had replied gruffly but not unkindly.
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The Tourney was over and Tywin and Joanna had been humiliated by the King's refusal. Joanna was more determined to wed her daughter to Rogar, but Tywin resolutely resolved himself to not give up on Rhaegar until or unless the Crown Prince was already wed and with an Heir.
Joanna however had decidedly chosen to broach the matter of a potential betrothal to Lord Jon Arryn, determine his interests, needs, and desires for such a match to occur. A Lannister had never married into the Arryn Bloodline meaning that Lord Jon would require certain caveats and promises to keep face with his Bannermen. It was the way the Nobility of the Great Houses and their primary Bannermen did things after all.
The Arryns like the Lannister's had once been King's and Queen's in their own right, but they never lost a man in the Targaryen Conquest due to having chosen submission over warfare. Thus it was their priority of their people over their Crown's that brought Rhaenyra Targaryen into their World.
Rogar Arryn was well-mannered, quite learned, and as good if not better than Her Jaime at arms and Warcraft. Making him ideal for her little lioness.
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(FLASHBACK END)
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(POV Shift: Rogar Arryn)
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(Runestone, Bronze Coast, The Vale of Arryn, The Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, Westeros, GoT Universe)
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(Time-skip: Three Days Later)
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Rogar was riding Into the Runestone after three days of long and hard travel by sea, and now half a days ride on horseback. The horse had been a gift from Cersei for his last Nameday. It suitably had a golden colouration with silver mixed into the coloring.
He rode in with his fifteen men to the surprise of the Royce Household who had not expected an Arryn to come at all, let alone the Young Heir to the Vale of Arryn. It was about five minutes later that Lord's Yohn and Nestor came to greet him, rather hastily too.
''Welcome to Runestone Lord Rogar, we apologize for not greeting you sooner, we received no word of your impending arrival.'' Nestor bows his head in apology.
''No, it is Not you who ought to apologize, but rather me. Not even my father knows I'm here, or rather he doesn't know that I am in the Vale of Arryn at all. I took ship from Lannisport aboard The Aquila to Gulltown with the intent to come to Runestone to speak with you both directly. I have a matter I'd like to discuss that directly concerns the three of us specifically, may we speak in your Solar?'' Rogar asks.
''Of Course, Young Lord, please follow us.'' Lord Yohn says.
As he passes many a maiden, many if whom bat their eyelashes at him, he smiles only at the forlorn Myranda Royce.
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Sat in the Solar of Yohn Royce, Rogar waited for each man to sit before speaking.
''I understand your daughter is freshly widowed Lord Nestor. I must admit she is my entire reason for coming here. I wish to court her, however out of respect I won't engage in this until a year has passed, for obvious reasons. Consider this an official interest in renewing the bonds of Royce and Arryn for the second generation in a row on my part. Good Day my Lord's, consider my words carefully.'' Without another word, Rogar departs leaving both Lord Royce's flummoxed.
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(POV Shift: Nestor Royce)
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Rogar Arryn was strange, granted most children were at his age, but to show up unannounced and express a serious interest in Nestor's freshly widowed daughter. The marriage had occurred against his wishes the fact the sod had died before he could spill his seed made Nestor grateful, but it also caused him the issue of the Fact his daughter was thus tainted in the eyes of Nobility, having your husband die during the wedding was bad luck, but during consummation was considered worse.
Myranda had contented herself to this fate, now The future Lord of the Eyrie and Warden of The East came unannounced and expressed an interest and intent in courting his freshly widowed and tainted daughter?
The boy was an anomaly showed up and expressed the Interest before departing without letting them get a word in. Now the duty fell to Nestor to inform Randa of the Young Lord's interest....
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(POV Shift: Rogar Arryn)
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Rogar was satisfied with his visit to Runestone. His goal had been to express interest and intent to Court Myranda before turning on his heel and departing without them getting a word in.
For the moment being an anomaly was the right play, plus it increased the odds of a reciprocated interest in the match. Myranda was never Wedded again in Cannon but that was because she was seen as tainted due to her husband's death during consummation, thus giving him an opportunity to acquire a very pretty, busty, and unclaimed Bride.
He was a lustful individual at heart, and being able to sleep frequently with the beautiful Myranda Royce was certainly less expensive than whoring, a shame Robert never made the marriage he had to Cersei in Cannon Manageable since they had near as many infidelities each.
Rogar wanted to father Myrcella and Tommen, which meant that around the time Joffery was conceived Rogar planned to be somewhere else.
Somewhere....East....
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(POV Shift: Jon Arryn)
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Joanna Lannister had expressed an interest in his thoughts regarding a betrothal to Cersei Lannister for his Rogar, and now a Raven from Runestone detailing Rogar's expressed interest in courting the freshly widowed Myranda Royce who was some three or four years his senior.
Rogar had always struck him as...special and gifted. Apparently Lady Joanna felt the same. But Rogar should be allowed the choice to freely choose his own bride, despite the fact that Lady Cersei was certainly a better match for his son.
In any event perhaps it was time to surprise his son with a Welcome home feast? His boy wasn't fond of surprises, but would probably make an exception for him this time, he was a proud father and getting on years after all....
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(POV Shift: Rogar Arryn)
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Rogar was at Last within sight of the Gates of The Moon, he was almost home.....
And done. I expect The actual Defiance to occur around Part 3, with Part two being split between the celebration, resulting hangover and Tywin. Maybe one or two others featured as much. We'll see what happens no?
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