in your dreams // teva+cal GoT

[Python]

teva seraphim bolton.

"Introducing Teva, of House Bolton!"

Everyone loves a name day, eh?

Clad in black armor with strips of red, the infamous 'flayed man' on his shield, Teva heaved his lance over his shoulder and righted himself on his horse. His house was on fairly good terms with the crown, so naturally they leapt at the opportunity to participate in the princess' tournament - in honor of her name day, they said. Teva had no idea how old she was now, and he didn't care. People suspected that he did, being idiots and all. As if he wanted a betrothal to a princess. No fucking way. Find someone else. Tate is the Lord of the Dreadfort, go ask him.

Fortunately, the triplets weren't worried about such plots. According to whispers, nobody really wanted to marry a Bolton. Most girls don't think of merging their family with the house whose sigil is a skinless man. There is nothing pretty or honorable bout that, and Teva couldn't disagree. Flaying enemies is brutal, but the ones who receive that punishment always deserve it.

Teva pretended not to know that his brothers could read his every move. They knew why he was here - one, because it was expected. But it didn't have to be Teva. Two, Teva enjoyed the hell out of fighting and jousting, especially because he won quite often ("Teva the terror!", horrible nicknames, stop making him sound like a jackass). Three, he had eyes for the prince. His men all assumed he had eyes for the princess, but that was horseshit. She was nowhere near as pretty as the crown's prince, Calcifer.

This was all an excuse to flaunt his idiot glory in front of the prince. If he was lucky, the prince would remember his name or make eye contact with him. That was all Teva could really ask for, being in his position.

He directed his horse, sauntering over to their seats in the crowd. Asking for the prince's favor was socially unacceptable, and asking for the princess' was too bold, so he asked her best friend instead. "I humbly ask for your favor, not that I'll be needing it." Teva was not humble.

Although she was the one granting him the favor, Teva's gaze wandered to the prince. He made it a point to stare for just a few extra seconds...

[gamemaker kelsier]

C A L C I F E R  T A R G A R Y E N

There's only one reason that Calcifer Targaryen, third in line to the throne, would deign to attend his sister's tournament and that sole reason was that his father had ordered him to accompany his younger sister.

By the gods was it boring though. Cal had never had much patience for these silly things, they were beneath him in his opinion. While his brothers had spent their life so focused on bloodshed, Calcifer turned his attention to beauty instead. Yes, he could swing a sword as well as his brothers but he was also well read, an artist and romantic at heart. It was the loudest secret at the summer palace where he resided, young master Targaryen not only had a taste for the Westeros people, but specifically their men.

Events like these did not spur his heart on for the participants however, it was simply boring to sit there and chaperone his sister and her ladies in waiting as they received favour after favour. In some cases he'd hold an arm out, rejecting favours meant for his sister from houses too lowly, "Think again," he'd say, expression gentle. His father had and would start a war over such a transgression, Cal did so for their own protection.

The day dragged on, the hot summer sun beating down on them all. By afternoon, Calcifer was irritable at best. "How many more," he muttered, annoyed at his manservant, but the dolt only shrugged.

"Many have come to gaze upon your sister's beauty, lord."

A few more matches went by and Calcifer called for wine, turned away when the next hopeful rode up. When he turned back in his seat, he was looking down at a boy from house Bolton and their horrific sigil. The stranger was clad in black armour with hair just as dark and eyes, fathomless, staring right at Calcifer even as he offered a handmaid his favour.

Cal gazed down at him, expression cold a his impudence but for the first time in awhile, his skin lit aflame, tingling at the other boy's stare.

Slowly, he slid his gaze away to turn his attention back to his sister.

He waited a moment for the knight to ride to starting position and then put a hand on her arm, "Have I inherited grandfather's madness, or was he looking at me?" he asked, almost urgently.

[Python]

teva seraphim bolton.

There was something exhilierating about a prince's cold stare. It should've had the opposite effect, warning him that he was a lowly piece of shit in his presence, but Teva never thought of himself that way. He briefly wondered if this was how Calcifer looked down upon his enemies before his dragon burned them to ashes. He didn't seem like much of a fighter, but who needs to learn how to block and parry when you have a fucking dragon? Teva would never touch the ground again if he could ride such a beast.

As he halted at his starting position, he patted his horse encouragingly. Sorry girl, you're great too, I couldn't replace you with a dragon. She was as white as moonlight, a stark contrast to his black armor. She was from a stock his mother had bred herself before her passing, and if any of these fuckers thought they could cheat by scaring her or harming her, they had another thing coming. Teva would fucking kill them on the spot.

His first opponent was easy to read. One strike of the lance into his shield, and the force of it knocked him right onto his ass. He looked like a rookie - holding his shield oddly, allowing Teva to know full well he could knock him back with a single blow. Teva blew past him afterward, offering nothing but silence as he prepared for the next opponent. He was sure to give his horse extra attention before they brought out some Baratheon fellow.

In the heat of the moment, Teva was too focused to remember that he was supposed to be putting on a show and standing out. But really, what was he supposed to do. Yell at the crowd? Confess to the prince right now?

He did what he was good at, knocking men off their fucking horses until he was the last one standing.

"Shit, I actually won," he laughed, sauntering his way back to the princess and her entourage.

"I ask for no prizes! Only that I am allowed to attend your afterparty," His gaze lingered to the prince again, and he dared to wink this time. Cheeky bastard. He couldn't help it - tournaments got his blood boiling.

[gamemaker kelsier]

C A L C I F E R  T A R G A R Y E N

Everyone else was boring after the knight in the black armour astride the white mount. He looked rather dashing Calcifer decided, especially in comparison to everyone else. Focusing on the knight was a nice little distraction from the absolute boredom he was otherwise suffering and he enjoyed watching his jousting and the ease with which he dispatched his rival.

He detested boys who played with their food.

The Knight from House Bolton did not stop there however, nor was there a lance that could sway him from his saddle. Calcifer watched closely, feigning disinterest whenever the Knight turned to look at their box. The girl who had accepted his favour tittered, a hand held to her bosom in delight with every win he took. He could hear her whispering to the other ladies despite the fan she had raised in effort to muffle the sound. "What shall I favour him with if he wins?"

"Nothing of course," answered one in response, "Not for a man from Bolton."

Calcifer drummed his perfectly manicured fingers against the arm of his throne and rested his chin on the other. True that bedding a man from Bolton was far beneath him but that hadn't ever stalled Calcifer before. When all of Westeros is empty of your kind, you have to bend your head at least a little to look down on them.

The Knight won his last match and rode over. Calcifer straightened, that same electric feeling danced across his skin at the Knight's approach. His sister reached over, resting a hand lightly on his shoulder, silently holding him back. Calcifer glanced at her, a flash of annoyance across his face. Only a fool would show his cards now.

"Actually, Sir Knight, your attendance is mandatory," he said coldly and then leaned forwards in his seat, "You will sit at the high table with the princess and myself so that we may honour you."

Calcifer leaned back again, letting his gaze warm the slightest fraction at the Knight's wink.

"What be thy name?"

[Python]

teva seraphim bolton.

Teva could only grin as the prince himself addressed him. He had definitely noticed is not-so-subtle advances - which either meant he was fucked (in the 'roasted alive by dragon' way), or he was intrigued. Teva tried to keep up appearances when he could to avoid accidental offense. Not because he cared about his safety, but because it could reflect badly on his house. The lectures from Tate would be fucking dreadful.

He was relieved to see that the handmaiden who granted her favor seemed hesitant in his presence. It would be awkward to reject her after asking for her favor in the first place (again, keeping up appearances). If anything, he would force himself into some short, idle conversation with her at the party before focusing his attention on the princess and the prince. It was her birthday, after all. Teva knew better than to ignore that.

"I would be honored to sit at the high table," he said, because there was no other appropriate answer in front of royalty. Everyone had to say this shit, and Teva was not about to offend a Targaryen. In the grand scheme of things, this was actually a way to strengthen his house's relationship with the crown. Tate was definitely going to be surprised about all of this.

Teva's smirk widened at the prince's question. Now it was obvious he hadn't been paying too much attention to the tournament. Good, he had learned something new - maybe these affairs were boring to the prince. Teva had only seen a few tournaments in his lifetime, but a prince had probably seen countless.

"Teva of House Bolton, my prince. I look forward to trying your wines."

[gamemaker kelsier]

C A L C I F E R  T A R G A R Y E N

Teva seemed of strange stock to Calcifer, not because of the house that bore him but the casual air that seemed to waft after his every movement like fine silk in the wind. It would be an understatement to say that the prince was intrigued.

It took either great bravery or extreme stupidity to smirk at a prince. He wondered which one Teva was.

Calcifer stood then to address the arena. "This eve, there will be a feast in the Crown tent. The rest of you may make merry as well." The crowd roared in agreement. The Targaryen tournament feasts were known to be wonderful parties and the ones that Calcifer threw were no exception.

He then waved to show that they were all dismissed before glancing down at Teva again. "Tonight you may have the pleasure of tasting more than just the wine, Teva of House Bolton," he said and then looked him up and down slowly, before turning on his heel.

[Python]

teva seraphim bolton.

A night of festivities was the natural way to end a tournament. Teva turned to the roaring crowds as they cheered at the prince's words. He may as well place himself on display as the champion and bathe in a few more seconds of glory before they dispersed. It was a lively crowd this year. He briefly wondered how they felt about his victory. An unexpected welcome, perhaps? Nobody wanted a predictable tournament, after all.

Teva's heart jumped at the prince's response. That was either a very warm invitation, or the act of a dragon playing with its food. Either way, Teva was looking forward to their interactions. The chances of royalty sharing his bedding interests were quite slim, which was why Teva had to tread carefully. That being said, sometimes one could catch a whiff of such attractions among the presence of others who did not. Teva was not subtle, but neither was the prince. "I look forward to it," he said, gleefully. Unless the prince was merely humoring him, he had something to look forward to.

With that, he led his horse back to his tent. His squire was waiting for him, and assisted in removing Teva's armor so he could be more presentable at dinner. His outfit was as black as his armor, yet still remained splashed with the hints of red that represented House Bolton. At the very least, the prince no longer had to stare at a flayed man.

"Make sure you give her extra treats for being a champion's horse," he ordered. His squire was the quieter type, and one of few men who knew Teva's bedding habits. Impossible not to when Teva wouldn't shut up about the prince on his way to King's Landing.

When it was time for the feast, Teva made his way over to the Targaryens' whereabouts. He glanced up at the high table, and searched for the empty seat that now belonged to him.

[gamemaker kelsier]

C A L C I F E R  T A R G A R Y E N

It had been some time since Calcifer had actually felt excited about anything. People think that the life of a prince can only be full of excitement, while it was true that he had access to some of the world's greatest pleasures, Cal was also under so much pressure that often all he could was numb himself to it. Often times, it meant that he was closing him off to feeling most things.

In his life, it wasn't uncommon to expect a knife in his back at any given moment. But then, there were not many who would dare try and scratch a dragon unless they had a death wish.

He decided to put a little more effort than usual into his appearance that night while keeping careful not to upstage his illustrious sister. This was her birthday celebration after all. The two of them tended to compliment each other anyway and often matched in public. That evening, his sister sent silks of silver moonlight to his tent as well as an intricate chainmail headdress encrusted with diamonds.

When Calcifer reached the dining tent, his sister was already there. the seats beside her on her right were filled by her ladies and Calcifer's chair had been left with a space beside it. "So you might talk about boy things," his sisters said demurely on his approach.

Later she would definitely claim that she had made the match between the knight and himself possible and Calcifer would let her.

Food began to arrive and nobles trickled into the hall, paying their respects to the princess and himself before taking their seats. Calcifer nodded in greeting to them all but could not stop looking towards the entrance for that bold Bolton. His sister touched his wrist gently, gesturing at his untouched meal but his body felt like a conductor, he was too electric or more accurately, full of flame to even consider it.

"Ah," Cal whispered, sitting up slightly in his seat when Teva finally entered the tent. He wrapped a hand over the end of the arm of his chair, nails digging into the wood. He didn't want to appear too interested, it wasn't befitting of a prince, let alone a Targaryen.

"So you finally deign to join us," Calcifer said, smirking down at Teva from the raised podium. "Come," he said and flicked a hand at the empty spot on his left, "Your meal grows cold and I want to learn more of you."

[Python]

teva seraphim bolton.

The sight of a beautiful man could steal a breath as quickly as a knight's lance. Teva would've been dumbfounded enough to stand slack-jawed for a moment, if he hadn't known that people were staring at him. It was expected of him to acknowledge the princess, which he did quickly, before taking his seat next to Calcifer.

He felt like a smug bastard. Wait til everyone at home hears about this. Yet at the same time, it was nerve-wracking. Calcifer was breathtaking, but also dangerous. Targaryens had a lot of power, and a lot of it was firepower. Teva wanted to flirt, but he had to be careful about what he said. He couldn't be 'himself' at a dinner table with the King's relatives. It was a bit shit, because he hated censoring himself, but survival was important.

Fuck the meal, he wanted to say, but that was rude. He indulged politely, and Gods was it tasty. He enjoyed a few bites, as expected, before turning to engage with the prince. He was even prettier up close, it was actually intimidating. "So, what is it that you wish to know about me?" He offered the prince a delighted smirk, and there was a daring twinkle in his eye that said, whatever you want.

[gamemaker kelsier]

C A L C I F E R  T A R G A R Y E N

Calcifer would never admit it but Teva's reaction upon entering the hall had been exactly what he wanted, the emotion was what he knew moved armies, it was always beautiful to see in action.

A man could be persuaded into following anyone into battle with the promise of even being able to look upon beauty. Calcifer had seen it before, had watched men and women impale themselves on the swords of their enemies, gaze toward the horizon and his mother draped in finery on the back of a dragon. When Calcifer wanted to feel powerful, he thought of that memory and it always worked.

Teva settled beside him and Calcifer practiced further restraint by completely ignoring him for a few moments while he settled. Instead he leaned towards his sister and commented on the lively feast, or leaned forward to address a nobleman he was fond of.

Exactly five minutes later he turned back to Teva, a decadent piece of pheasant at the end of his fork. "Try this," he said sweetly, ignoring the Knight's question for the time being, "From my own plate."

When the bird was safely in his mouth, only then did he lean in close and ask, "What gives you the right to flirt with a Targaryen?" Then Cal leaned back slowly, eyes glinting almost mischievously, "Perhaps it is death whom you truly court?"

[Python]

teva seraphim bolton.

Instead of answering his damn question, the prince offered him a piece of food from his own plate. He dare not refuse. The meat tasted wonderful, and it was definitely nothing he had ever tried before. As he chewed, he wondered by the prince was avoiding his question. Now that they were up close and personal, maybe he was ready to show his true intentions - whatever those were.

Teva blinked slowly at the prince's accusation. He couldn't exactly deny that it was true, and of course he had waited for Teva's mouth to be full of bird meat to say something. Clever. It forced Teva to listen and think about what he wanted to say. Something he needed to be doing anyway.

"Courting death? That isn't new for me," he chuckled. "I didn't know there were laws against flirting with Targaryens. How boring that must be for you." He picked up a goblet of wine and took a sip. Good shit.

[gamemaker kelsier]

C A L C I F E R  T A R G A R Y E N

He'd tried to be a good prince of Targaryen, the gods know. For years, Cal had forced himself inside the box that his father wanted him in. He'd considered his girl cousins and their beauty. He'd lain there at night, trying to imagine the curve of a breast and tried to find the image titillating but he could not bring himself to it. There was just something about men, the sharpness of their jaw, the deep rumble of their voice, that Calcifer found equisit.

Perhaps, it is just their simplicity, he found himself thinking right then.

"There are no laws against it," Calcifer said, "There don't need to be."

His grandfather, known as The Mad King, had once sentenced his entire courtroom to death just for daring to gaze upon his daughter. Of course, that had been near the end of his reign and Calcifer's father had given him a swift death instead in a way that still honoured him as a Targaryen.

He watched Teva sip his wine, and idly picked at the pheasant on his plate.

"But I'm happy I was right," he said idly, "You are flirting with me."

[Python]

teva seraphim bolton.

The prince didn't need to elaborate; the Targaryen name spoke for itself. There need be no law when one has dragons. However, Teva was feeling quite confident in his fate of not becoming a human torch this evening. The fact that Calcifer recognized his actions as flirting was eye-opening information. Men who only bedded women usually failed to recognize Teva's advances as flirting. They would never even consider such a situation possible, yet Calcifer had picked up on it so quickly. He was either incredibly observant, or...

"I've come this far, I'm not going to deny it." he said, following it with another gentle sip of wine. If he was rejected, he had good food and delicious wine to distract him. And he would have an interesting story to tell upon his return to the Dreadfort. He failed to see himself losing in this situation, unless Calcifer changed his mind and led him to the dragon pits. At least my death would be worthy of a story...

"Do you plan to set your dragons on me, or do you plan to do something else about it?" He raised a challenging eyebrow.

[gamemaker kelsier]

C A L C I F E R  T A R G A R Y E N

It was rare to meet anyone who could exude such confidence in front of him. Usually they were like clay in his hand at this point, always so very easy. Once again Calcifer wasn't certain if Teva was wildy brave or incredibly stupid. He liked that it was hard to guess.

And he had already decided that he liked Teva so it didn't really matter either way. Calcifer would have him.

"That's good," Calcifer said and nodded graciously at one of his father's friends sitting across the room, "I have no interest in a man that would try to his the truth from me."

Calcifer then turned to look at Teva at his challenge. He stared at him for a few moments too long, as if he was really considering feeding Teva to his beloved dragon, simply named Howl.

"No," he said after a moment, "I don't think that I will."

A server filled their wine glasses once again as their plates were cleared away and benches began to get moved to create a dance floor.

Calcifer stood.

"Walk with me, Sir Champion, I have decided to honour you with a rare sight."

[Python]

teva seraphim bolton.

Teva didn't know if it was the Targaryen blood or the prince's own talents, but that intense gaze of his made his skin tingle. His heart pounded out of excitement mixed with fear, as the prince considered turning him into dragon food. It would be odd to seal such a fate for a brand new tournament champion, but as the king's son, he had every right to do it. The Targaryens could get away with so much shit simply because they existed.

Teva had some of his own privileges as a Bolton, but it paled in comparison to Calcifer's power.

Somehow, that was even more exciting.

"Who am I to say no to a prince?" he replied quickly, taking a moment to down the rest of his wine. His mind was rushing. Of course the prince was being vague on purpose, that was part of the fun. Teva liked that fun. There was an edge of danger to it. Was Calcifer going to lead him to something amazing, romantic, or dangerous? Teva had no idea where these people kept their dragons. The prince could lead him right into a trap.

He did not hesitate to follow.