Elia:

The sun was beginning to set, the sky painted orange. Oberyn sat near the desk in her room, telling Rhaenys the story of how Nymeria broke the Yronwood host for the thousandth time, while she sat on the bed reading the latest missive from her other brother, who always saw to keep her abreast of happenings in Dorne. It was then the Baratheon brothers shuffled into the room with her uncle, who was without his armour, though the white cloak was still clasped on his shoulders. Rhaenys ran forward, forgetting all lessons of propriety as a three namedays old was want to do, screaming "Cousin! Cousin!" till she just reached the door where Robert Baratheon scooped her up and ruffled her hair, grinning ear to ear.

"Did you bring more dolls?"

"I did."

"And the rollers."

"Did too."

"And the Choo Choo?"

"No, that I forgot." He said his grin turning into a small smile. At her face contorting to scowl, he started tickling her, her little princess laughing in return, but still trying to a scowl between the heaves.

"Of course I brought the Choo Choo! Do you think me daft? To present myself to the little dragon without the Choo Choo?"

"What's a 'Choo Choo'?" Asked the littlest Baratheon, testing the word as if he heard it for the first time. Which he likely did.

"His boiler I think." Said the middle one, all stern looking and proper.

"Oh it's much more than a boiler now, you'll see," Robert turned to his brothers and said as he put her daughter down, and turned back to Rhaenys, and kneeled before her, "but my little Princess knows the price."

At that Rhaenys leaned, first kissing Robert's left cheek then right, then stood back satisfied.

"Only one set? That's just for the dolls!"

At that Rhaenys him again, "For the rollers," she said and kissed him again, both left and right cheek, "And for the Choo Choo."

"There we go. Now meet your other cousins while I present myself to your mother."

She had gotten to the heel of the bed by then, standing there with Oberyn as Robert made his way to them, while the children and Stannis Baratheon busied themselves with "Hellos," and "Well met".

He came up to her, gathered her hand and kissed it's back "As beautiful as ever, your grace!"

"And you as given to flattery as always."

Robert brought his other hand to his chest, in mock offense. "Flattery? Nay, your grace, I speak the truth." Before that damnable smile came back to his face. He then turned to Oberyn, his face suddenly becoming serious, "And you, damnable snake!"

"Uncouth brute!" Oberyn said, trying to look serious but a smile still breaking out of his facade. Then they both laughed and clasped their shoulders. And begin to talk of racing 'Gallivats', one of the strange new design of ship Lord of Tarth had commissioned.

She then took her time to appraise this lord of Stormlands then. A close cropped shadow of a beard over his face. His hair cropped short on the sides of his head, and dressed in a strange wavey curl, parted to the right. He wasn't a displeasing thing to look at, that was for sure. And then there was his smile. That smile that played with mischief. She remembered the first time she saw him since coming to Kings Landing, how he stood in the court, all serious looking, as much as a boy his age could. She remembered that well.

He had come to petition for a waiver for his roads, something her goodfather was all too happy to give, since this was the son of his Leal cousins Steffon, and had won the Royal Favour by promising to rebuild Summerhall, something while others saw as an act of sycophancy, she knew to be cunning, what with all the royal boons and sums he extracted, coupled with building a Castle on Royally expropriated lands, a castle he was like to give to Stannis Baratheon. That Lord Tywin disapproved of the full waiver made the King all the more adamant. Still, for the few times they did, the small council sided with the Hand, likely worried about the dent it would make on the Royal Coffers, Coffers that lined their purses as well. Still the Stormlord was able to extract nearly half the waiver he had come asking, ironing the details in a night long session with Lord Tywin in the tower of the hand, both coming out looking dissatisfied, which probably meant it was a good compromise. He had come many time since. Asking for tax waivers, town charters, support for this guild or that. And always bringing them gifts to shower with. Even for Lord Tywin, who he was almost regularly at cross ends with was given gifts.

She remembered the last time he came to the capital, this time to make full return on a loan he took from the Faith. When all the folk of highest standing dined that knight, he brought out gifts, knitter knatter or trinkets for lords lower on the totem pole. Then he brought the gift he bore for Lord Tywin, a massive tapestry, intricately worked, with golden lion astride on the broken chest of a red one, with stars dropped around the fallen beast. She looked at Lord Tywin then, who thanked him curtly, his lords mask still on him, but his eyes gleamed with what she thought was approval. Robert gave gifts of Lyre for lady Cersie and an ornate sword with good castle forged steel, the pommel in the shape of a Lion's head for Jaime Lannister. He then brought out the gifts for the Royals. An intricately done seven pointed star, with beautiful illustrations and letters so clear she had never seen their like for the Queen. Likely from one of those Signet Presses he had come up with. Along with that, came gracefully done statuettes of the Seven done in porcelain for Yi Ti, their eyes sapphire and beaten gold and silver for their accents. Next came 10 books for Rhaegar, who was still sour with Robert on losing some debate on some nature of balls. Debate that ended with them rolling literal copper balls down an incline of wood and Rhaegar going off in a huff. He thanked Robert all the same. Next came dresses made of Myrish Muslin, that Robert said was as light as woven air, accented by cloth of gold. Finally came all sorts of toys for her little angel, a soldier that flipped when cranked, myriads of dolls and horses that had wheels at the end with ropes to be dragged along.

She remembered how his hair were longer then, his face clean shaven. How his muscles ripped from under his doublet. And always that damnable smile, the smile she knew would make maids, gentle and common both, swoon and go weak at the knees. She had more than once entertained the thought of having him as a paramour. After all, while he was kind and caring, there was no passion between her and Rhaegar. All they had for each other was care and friendship and a sense of duty, to each other and to the realms. But she knew better than to ever broach this subject with Rhaegar, not before she had given him his three dragons. The birth of just one had been a nightmare, near seeing here to the Strangers embrace.

She brought herself back to the present, where Oberyn was boasting of bedding a septa while Robert guffawed. She glared at both of them, though there was no heat behind it. "There are children here." She said. Oberyn looked bored while Robert had the sense of looking ashamed, but she knew that insincere look.

Then suddenly there was a rap on the door, and then three others in quick succession. She knew what that meant. So did Lewyn who now took Stannis and the kids ahold and said, "Come, let me show you something."

The middle Baratheon looked hesitant, looking at his brother as a look of understanding passed between those two. And soon the four of them left the room. Moments later Oswell and Arthur came in with Ashara and Jon Connington.

"Standing in your hose in an field tent? Have you no sense of propriety?" Asked Arthur as Oberyn gave Robert a bemused look. Ashara for her part was trying to suppress her snigger while Jon had that tired look on his face that he was wont to have in her presence.

Robert for his part rounded the desk he and Oberyn were standing by, and sat down on the chair behind it. "None whatsoever," he declared, bashfully, "Besides there are things of more import than propriety. I hear there is treason afoot."

At that all the smiles were gone, all tensed up while Connington's hand found its way to the pommel of the sword at his hip.

"Oh come on. Varys can't hear us here. I checked. And you Jon, need to calm down."

"The stew-" Arthur began only to be cut off.

"The Arryns are in. I've always been in. I believe the Martells are as well?" He threw a questioning look towards Oberyn who nodded back.

"The Starks are yet to give formal assent that they are, but I know that it is almost certain. The Tully has already betrothed the elder girl to a Stark, for the other he looks to the hands of Elbert Arryn or Jaime Lannister, the latter of which I'll come to later. So while we should wait for the Blackfish to come we can say that they are in."

"And what of the lions?"

"Yeah, that's a complication. Our Royal Majesty," said Robert with the silly title the Stormlord had made the mistake of calling the king, a title that had gone straight to the King's head, demanding to now be called only that, and having flogged a courtier that made the mistake of calling him 'Your Grace', "Means to name Jaime Lannister to Kingsguard."

At that all were drawn aback.

"That would be a grave insult to Lord Tywin." Said Jon, airing what all of them thought.

"Just so. And that's where the complication comes."

"On one hand, it might be grave enough for him to leave his office, a office we can fill with our own tool. Maybe even grave enough to have in jump on board fully with us," He said raising one hand as if weighing an invisible gauntlet, "On the other hand, he already has half and one foot in our boat. And Jaime Lannister is a very useful pawn for us to lose. His is a hand that can tie the Tyrells to our cause or maybe strengthen Lord Hosters loyalty. Hehe!"

"What?" Asked Jon, growing fidgety and impatient. One day, she knew, this will be his downfall.

"We call Varys the spider, yet here we are building the webs."

"Rhaegar would know." Arthur intoned.

"Yes, I should ask him," Robert started getting up from behind the desk, before she interjected "You better not. He is still a little wroth with you."

"What? Why?" He asked befoe the realisation dawned on him and he contorted his face into a scowl, "Over that balls thing?"

"Just the same." Came the reply for Whent.

"But it's such a silly thing. So he was wrong, what of it?"

"He's not like to take such things lightly."

"Makes no matter," He got up to his full length and made in quick long steps made his way to the door, speaking all the way, "We are conspiring together to depose a King. We will put this sillyness behind us." He said in a way that brooked no arguement.

Then just as his hands went for the latch of the door, he turned back and bowed.

"By your leave, your grace." He said to her and left. All of them looking at each other, daring the other to break the silence left in place.