#jaime x mc
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Cove, Terry, and Randy, also at the venue, watching all of this unfold like: 🤯, 👀🍿, 👁️👄👁️
#our life#our life beginnings & always#olba#jaime last#baxter ward#baxter dlc#baxter x mc#cove holden#miranda eckert#terry brook#princess plays games
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more misc of the laneous
#we got opie being a villain; opie and jaime goodness; brandish being my gf and me making a comeback#opie tua#adam x mc#mackenzie x mc#choices ame
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Familia (Ethan x f!MC)
Book: Open Heart, beyond
Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey and MC (Lilac Allende)
Word Count: 2.7K
Rating/Warning: T/ Some Language
Summary: Ethan meets her family over a traditional meal of tamales.
Note: In which Lilac's Mexican mother teaches him how to make tamales. Translations at the end :)
The usually cold, pristine kitchen of his apartment appeared like a different place entirely that afternoon. For one, it was crowded as Lilac's family bustled about, the sounds of music, laughter, and lighthearted conversation filling the space. Every inch of the counters was covered in a colorful mosaic of ingredients, each meant for a different dish and each tended to by a different Allende. Tendrils of steam swirled into the air as Mrs. Allende stirred the contents of a sizzling pan, the aroma nothing short of mouthwatering.
It had never felt so inviting or close to a real home and Ethan felt momentarily stunned.
He paused at the threshold to admire it, his attention finally resting resolutely on Lilac. She, too, appeared entirely transformed as she cooked and joked with her siblings in both of her languages. Sparkling green eyes creased at the edges, more alive than ever, as she dodged a dusting of flour sent her way by her younger brother.
“You'll pay for that,” she told him mid laugh, followed by more vows of retaliation in Spanish.
Ethan basked in the sound of her voice and how her native language made it sound different— like a soft melody that swelled pleasantly with every word. Something soared within him as he watched this version of her, taking root in his chest and blooming very much like the first time he saw her at Edenbrook.
“Ya basta, muchachos,” Mrs. Allende chided over the hiss of the frying chilis. “Jaime, look at the mess you made all over Dr. Ramsey's kitchen. Clean up all this flour and go keep your dad some company in the living room.”
“Sí, señora,” Jaime Allende said with a mock salute that made his mother roll her eyes lovingly. Once her back was turned, he smirked at his sisters. “See you later, feas. I'll be in the living room enjoying the game.”
Laurel, the eldest, shoved him with her shoulder as he passed. It looked almost comical to Ethan since she was significantly shorter than him.
“Hey, you better clean this shit up,” she called out after him. When the warning fell on deaf ears, Laurel shook her head and murmured to Lilac, “Twenty four and he still knows how to trick his way out of doing any real work.”
“Typical,” Lilac returned cautiously, eyes on her mother's back.
Ethan took that opportunity to rejoin his girlfriend at the kitchen, his arms banding around her waist as he quickly kissed her temple.
Lilac let out a pleased little laugh, her body relaxing against him.
“How's my dad?”
“Quiet,” he replied, trying his best not to take it personally. Still, the nerves he felt about meeting her father had tapered into a fine point when the man had spoken less than five words to Ethan.
“That checks out,” Laurel commented knowingly from beside them.
Lilac threw her sister an unappreciative look which did nothing to help with his anxiety. She swiveled in Ethan's embrace, her scowl softening when their eyes met. “My dad's just a quiet person at first. Once he gets to know you, he's the goofiest marshmallow imaginable.”
Ethan remained unconvinced, afraid that her father was less than thrilled about their relationship. Then again, if Ethan had a daughter, he would absolutely take issue with the bastard who was both her boss and boyfriend.
“We found a football game on TV that he likes,” he commented, unsure of what else to say.
“As long as it's real fútbol, he'll love you already.”
“Yes, he can excuse sleeping with his daughter but he draws the line at American football,” Laurel mused with a wicked laugh, already dodging the slap Lilac sent her way.
Their mother caught the end of that exchange and sent them a single, silencing look that made both sisters cease at once. Then her eyes swiveled to Ethan and at once, her expression softened. Mrs. Allende straightened her spine and cleaned her hands against her apron.
“Doctor,” she said cheerfully in Spanish. “Thank you again for inviting us into your lovely home.”
“Es un placer,” he returned as he studiously avoided Laurel's gaze. It would no doubt silently communicate “Kiss ass.”
“Thank you for making dinner,” Ethan said to Mrs. Allende, who waved this away dismissively, though she looked thoroughly pleased.
“No thanks necessary. I hope you like tamales, Doctor. It's my mother's recipe.”
“I'm honored to try them. How can I help?”
This was evidently the right thing to ask because Mrs. Allende lit up with pure admiration and approval. If he didn't have her blessing before, he was convinced he did now.
Waving her daughters aside with fluttering hands and instructions in both languages, Mrs. Allende led Ethan to the part of the counter Jamie formerly occupied. She spent the next few minutes teaching Ethan how to prepare the masa.
“Muy bien,” she praised minutes later when Ethan had caught on to the technique quickly. “Ya está listo para casarse, Doctor.”
You're ready to get married now.
Three reactions occurred at once: Lilac coughed, Ethan felt his ears flare with heat, and Laurel all but cackled.
“Madre!”
“It's just a saying, mi vida,” her mother returned innocently, finding her way back to the stove. “Why don't you start on the filling?” To Ethan she added, “My Lilita makes the best green salsa, did she tell you?”
Ethan paused his movements, the sticky dough beneath his palm melting against his skin.
“She didn't.”
Lilac was studiously avoiding his gaze now, cheeks as red as the tomatoes she rinsed. For as long as he had known her, Lilac had made a show of professing her lack of culinary skills.
“You're missing out, Doctor,” her mother proclaimed proudly. “Her chilaquiles are the best too.”
Ethan quietly assessed his girlfriend, who gave him a fleeting, embarrassed look.
“You didn't tell me you could cook.”
Cheeks brighter still, she refused to look at him for longer than a moment.
“Nothing anyone I know would like.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mostly obscure Mexican food my grandma taught me how to make.”
The words were an embarrassed mumble.
“Your friends and I would love it.”
“Yeah, well…”
Something about the shame in her expression and the tension in her shoulders opened little fissures along the surface of his heart. With a pang, he began to comprehend that every time his Lilac said, “I can't cook!” it was the simpler alternative. Feigning incompetence was easier than explaining the dishes she loved so much to people who often looked down on them. Not that Ethan or her friends ever would, but all it took was one asshole to look down on her customs with disgust for a protective barrier to emerge.
When Mrs. Allende busied herself with the oven, Ethan moved to encircle his arms around his girlfriend, careful not to get any of the dough still coating his hands on her.
“Make it for me someday?”
She blinked at him in surprise and when he smiled, she relaxed against him, nodding quietly. The grateful smile she gave him made his heart skip.
“Dad's team is losing,” Jamie announced a
minute later as he reentered the kitchen, closely followed by his father. “He's mad. So he'd rather come in here and help wrap the tamales.”
Mr. Allende rolled his eyes at his son. “They have the ref bought, mijo. It's a waste of time to even watch.”
Unbeknownst to him, Laurel and Jamie silently mouthed their father's words in perfect sync behind his back. Ethan almost allowed a smile, unable to resist the infectious laughter that proved to be an Allende family trait. Before he could join in the myrth, however, Mr. Allende's eyes met Ethan's. The older man's expression was an impenetrable mask and it made Ethan's nerves buzz with a start.
It was only when Mr. Allende's eyes fell down to Ethan's hands, clasped securely around his daughter's waist, that he realized he still held Lilac in a rather close embrace.
Without thought, Ethan released her, almost shoving her away instinctively.
Lilac, slightly affronted, shot him a funny look. She was no doubt incredulous that a man Ethan's age was still afraid of his girlfriend's father like some kind of hormonal teenager. A cheeky part of his mind mused that when it came to Lilac, he was much like a juvenile version of himself.
“You're almost forty,” she teased in a whisper when her family was too preoccupied with an argument over what music to play.
Ethan threw her a dry, unappreciative glare. He couldn't add anything more because at that moment, the notes of an upbeat and unmistakably eighties song drafted from the small Bluetooth speaker.
All three Allende siblings groaned in unison, the sound dropping lower still when Mrs. Allende began to dance unabashedly to the beat.
“Not Luis Miguel,” Laurel sighed. “Our mother's crush.”
“Luis Mi Rey,” their mother corrected with a lovestruck sigh.
“I'm standing right here,” their father returned, arms crossed.
Ethan could see, however, that the faux stern expression threatened to break as he watched Margo singing happily. His wife pulled him close, singing lyrics about falling in love under the sun on a beach.
“I really lucked out,” Mrs. Allende said, voice sing-song and eyes fixed adoringly on her husband. “I ended up with someone better than El Sol de México himself.”
The sun of Mexico belted a high note from the speaker.
“Yeah, you ended up with the entire solar system with Dad,” Jaime teased, a wicked gaze falling on their father's generous belly.
“Don't body shame my dad,” Laurel returned sternly, though she looked on the verge of laughter.
The family dissolved into a good-natured argument.
Ethan watched them in silence, admiring the small pocket of chaos they occupied as they each spoke over one another. Even in doing so, they laughed and joked until all that could be heard was a chorus of mirth that made his heart ache.
“The sun is a solitary star,” Ethan found himself saying through the cheerful chatter.
Everyone fell silent, casting him glances that ranged from curious to downright confused. Only Lilac glanced up at him with a brilliant, knowing smile.
“Many astronomers believe it once had a companion. As it stands now, it's an anomaly because it's alone in the universe.”
Still, no one said anything.
Ethan was beginning to wonder if he overstepped and interrupted a family moment with his nonsense. Before panic could settle over his insides like a sheet of ice, his girlfriend wrapped an arm around his waist, settling into his side.
“In other words,” he continued, eyes moving to a quiet Mr. Allende. “You don't want to be like the sun. You and your wife are more like binary stars, who are gravitational bound forever.”
More silence followed his words and Ethan had half a mind to retreat from the room.
Finally, when the pause was almost unbearable, Mr. Allende chuckled.
“You hear that, viejita? I'm better than Luis Miguel. I'm a star.”
“Made of gas,” Jaime supplied.
In the chaotic symphony of their laughter, Lilac reclaimed Ethan's attention with a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Ethan Ramsey,” she murmured, impressed. “You are a bit of a poet after all.”
It's how I feel about you.
“I could've come up with that.” Jaime said loudly.
“No way,” Laurel returned at once. “You literally said Dad was as vast and old as the solar system.”
“Old?” her father asked in mock offense. “No one said anything about old before.”
After that brief glimmer of Mr. Allende's approval in the kitchen, the awkward edge in the air lifted. By the time Mrs. Allende promptly sat all of the men at the kitchen table to wrap the tamales, Ethan had proudly earned himself a smile from Lilac’s stoic father. His eyes crinkled at the edges as he watched Ethan studiously wrap the corn husks.
“My wife is going to favor your tamales, Doctor. You’ll make us look bad,” Mr. Allende commented.
“We do that all on our own, pops,” Jaime returned without missing a beat. As though to prove this point, a glop of dough fell from the corn husk he haphazardly wrapped.
Ethan paused, concerned. “Am I doing it wrong?”
“Not at all. They’re nearly damn perfect,” Mr. Allende chuckled.
“Ethan does everything with mathematical precision,” Lilac commented as she approached, placing a kiss on Ethan’s forehead.
Laurel muttered something from behind Lilac. Whatever it was scandalized her sister.
Luckily, Mr. Allende missed this because he grinned at Jaime. “See, mijo? You should put your degree to use, too.”
“I was too hungover the day they covered tamal wrapping in my engineering classes,” Jamie returned.
“Cabrón,” Mr. Allende laughed.
As it turned out, Mr. Allende was correct. His wife adored the neat work Ethan made of the task she assigned. Bursting with pride and delight, she squeezed Ethan’s shoulder. “Excellent work, mijo!”
Ethan’s heart felt weightless at the term of endearment.
“Ma, don’t go replacing me as the favorite son,” Jaime joked.
“About time,” Lilac muttered.
Jaime and Laurel rolled their eyes, exchanging a look.
“Middle child,” they chanted in unison.
They dissolved into a melody of voices and laughter once more. As the tamales steamed, they found themselves locked in a boisterous and heated game of Lotería. Ethan proved to be exceedingly good at it, much to everyone's delighted surprise (except Lilac's). After winning a particularly dramatic and fast-paced round, everyone flashed him an impressed smile.
Everyone except Laurel.
“Looks like you met your match, Lau,” Mr. Allende laughed.
“I only lost because I was calling them,” Laurel responded, red in the face. “It slowed me down.”
“Then let me call them,” Ethan returned, matching the challenge in her voice.
Lilac smacked an excited hand against the table. “This I have to see!”
Mrs. Allende, looking just as delighted, proclaimed, “Have him call out the personalized cards too, mija.”
“Personalized?”
“La Doctora,” Laurel said pointing at Lilac. “Mine is La Maestra and Jaime's is El Ingeniero.”
“Your parents don't have one?”
“Dad's is already in the original deck,” Jaime began with a devilish grin. “El Borracho.”
Mr. Allende responded with a string of curse words and hearty laughter.
“Ethan needs one, too,” Mrs. Allende said, kind eyes surveying Ethan. “We need to think of what his will say and I'll ask your cousin Natalia to make it.”
The group erupted into suggestions of what to name Ethan's card but he remained silent. His throat felt inexplicably tight as he watched them, thinking of ways to include him.
“How about El Anciano?” Lilac whispered close to his ear, her warm hand atop his under the table.
Ethan smiled at her jab but it was half-hearted.
“They love you already,” she said reassuringly, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
For once, Ethan was speechless.
“Alright, alright,” Lilac called out through the jovial clamor of voices. “We can decide on Ethan's card over the tamales and the bottle of tequila he bought for tonight.”
Jaime let out a loud cheer, his hands rubbing together in exaggeration. Lilac rose from her seat to retreat the bottle. When she returned, she raised it over her head like a trophy to the cheers of her siblings.
“Good choice, Doctor,” Mr. Allende commended as he caught sight of the label. “How did you know that was my favorite?”
Lilac telling him that morning is how Ethan knew.
“I just knew you had good taste and went with that.”
The smile Mr. Allende gave him left little doubt that he had effectively won him over too.
Laurel scoffed quietly, flicking a finger to the tip of her nose and spearing Ethan with a look that basically shouted “brown-noser.” On a whim, he flashed her a swift middle finger, careful to keep it hidden from her parents.
Jamie howled with laughter, Laurel looked impressed, and Lilac grinned, looking far more in love than he'd ever seen her.
It was then that Ethan realized that the foreign warmth coursing through him, welcoming and comforting as a morning sun, was a sense of belonging.
Translations:
Masa: Dough
Tamales: A Latin American dish made of dough and filling. It is steamed in corn husks or banana leaves.
Chilaquiles: a traditional Mexican dish consisting of corn tortillas cut into quarters and lightly fried. Usually topped with cheese, cream, and other ingredients.
Mijo/Mija: Term of endearment meaning "son" or "daughter"
El Sol de Mexico: The Sun of Mexico. A nickname dubbed to singer Luis Miguel.
Viejita: Affectionate way of saying older lady
Loteria: a traditional game of chance, similar to bingo, and is played on a deck of cards instead of numbered ping pong balls.
Maestra: Teacher
Ingeniero: Engineer
Borracho: Drunk
Anciano: Old Man
Note: Hi. Lots of apologies to give out. First off, sorry it's been literal months! I'm back. Sorry this is long. Sorry this is long overdue (I wrote it two years ago and held it close to my chest.) Sorry I still have other fics to finish!
And thank you so much if you're still here and read this!
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From the Ashes Pt. 35
Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister
Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, MC POV, long chapter ahead
Words: 6023
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34
Book Two of Dārilaros hen ōrbar se perzys (Heir of Ash and Fire)
Panting and reeling away from her personal brazier, Alizah closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Her face was still warm from the gentle licks the fire gave her as she had been staring deep into its flames. She had to know of any situations that might follow them to Asshai. Especially with confronting the darkins in their own realm. Alizah had never anticipated seeing a screeching dragon in her visions. So clear, the dragon had emerged from an egg that was being held by (y/n). Soaring through the rippling orange and yellow before growing ever larger and landing next to its mistress.
Alizah pulled up a chair and mulls over what she had just seen and the true meaning behind it. If only she was able to write down what she saw like many of the other red priestesses. Alas her blind eyes would merely be able to make scribbles. The only time she ever saw clearly was looking into the heat of the things, the soul of a being. She knew it would be wise to tell High Priest Benerro, after all she was his shining star in the whole temple and was heavily relied on. That’s how the temple knew (y/n) was in Volon Therys. And it was the vision of a box being delivered by a stranger that tied into the scenes she had seen at that moment.
When Ser Barristan Selmy had arrived on the doorsteps with a dark wood box under his arm, she had seen the warmth emanating from inside. It was a sleeping warmth that she had nearly waved off for it was a faint flicker. A box from Thalina.
“Did she actually succeed?” Alizah thought out loud to just herself. Thalina’s talent in reading the flames had been growing steadily before her departure to Westeros. Helped by Alizah and Melisandre, there were high hopes for her but only a handful of people knew of Thalina’s ultimate fate. Thalina had seen her own end but had just laughed it off. She never did like being serious. The air around her was always jubilant and Thalina had always been a smiling fool. That was the impression she left on everyone in the temple.
“I’m sorry. . .” Alizah whispered behind her hand after Thalina had told her how her life would end.
Thalina merely cocked her head to one side, her long braids shifting ever so slightly. “For what?”
“That you will not live a long life. That you will die in Westeros. . .”
Her laugh had surprised Alizah and Melisandre who had also been present. There in that solemn council room sat the senior red priest members Hayri and Iomhar, as they were the ones to be in attendance when the High Priest was unable to physically be there. “Ah, I’m not too worried about that. I’m more so concerned about getting all of my tasks done before that happens. If I can accomplish all that I have set forth in front of me, then I can die happily.”
“You shouldn’t be so callous when talking about your own death.” Iomhar growled but it didn’t dampen her smile. “The temple has so few people who can read the flames as well as you three can. To lose one would be a setback.”
Hayri, although perturbed by the revelations, shakes his head at his younger companion. “Settle down, Iomhar. Thalina is thinking about the bigger picture. We won’t need any more readers if she procures Azor Ahai reborn.”
Thalina beamed and nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! If I’m able to get her here. . . Then I would have done my job. But there is also one more thing I aim to do.”
“And what is that?”
“Why, bring back dragons of course!”
Bring back dragons. . .
It was too crazy a thought, that’s what everyone was thinking at the time. Melisandre was the only one who didn’t think it quite as crazy. She had said it was exactly what Azor Ahai reborn would need to truly make a stand. Alizah had never thought that Thalina would actually succeed in procuring a dragon egg.
“You were always a crazy girl.” Her voice was sad as she thought back on the girl who was the same age as her yet already gone from this plain of existence. Everything Thalina did, she did fearlessly. An admirable quality. “Guess I’ll have to be the same. You have left her in my care. I will see to it that your visions come true, Thalina.”
Also important in the back of her mind was making sure that Rhiannon would be guided in the right path. That didn’t appear to be a problem. Rhiannon had immediately attached herself to (y/n) and (y/n) to her
They filled the empty spot in which Thalina’s death had left them.
A festive atmosphere had claimed Volantis, especially around the Red Temple; the hub of the ceremony. None of the jovial air reached you though. Thinking of being in front of so many people still made you nervous. All eyes would be on you. You hadn’t felt such trepidation since your wedding. There would be more people at your ceremony and certain expectations had already been set for you. You wouldn’t become Princess (y/n) Targaryen, no, you would be crowned as Azor Ahai reborn; the champion of R’hllor and the ender of the long night.
Your ceremonial headdress solemnly sat on its pillow. Tyrion had playfully tried it on and nearly toppled over, not used to such an accessory. While the robes had once belonged to Azor Ahai, the headdress was completely new, made specifically for you and this occasion. Inanna and another young temple girl named Farah were helping you get dressed, slipping your arm through the gilded sleeves. They chatted excitedly as they did so, apparently the temple was making this a very big deal. After all, their savior had finally been reincarnated and walking on the earth among them. The people of Volantis were already crowding near the bridge to get a sneak peek of the set up. Servants were setting up a pyre right outside the doors of the temple. A special feast was being prepared as well.
While Rhiannon positioned a gold armor breastplate in front of your chest, you examine your painted hands which Siofra had done for you. The dye was a dark brown and in intricate designs. You were worried about smudging it but tall Siofra merely laughed and told you it would not be an issue. The only thing that would wash away the ink would be hot water and soap.
Personally you didn’t think that it was an appropriate time to have your ceremony, but High Priest Benerro along with his council of priests insisted the people of Volantis see the face of Azor Ahai reborn before you left for Asshai.And most importantly to witness Lightbringer with their own eyes. You were nervous, what if you weren’t able to conjure up the flames when the time came? You had still been unable to call upon it freely, not since your fight with Inniros. Without its holy flames, Lightbringer was just like any other sword.
Farah helps Rhiannon by tightening the armor’s straps behind you. When her warm eyes flick up to your face, Rhiannon frowns. “Are you okay? You don’t look too well.”
Inanna pops up, having been helping Tyrion with his own outfit. Even Tyrion looks up with concern. “Perhaps I should get nuha kosh something to eat?”
Tyrion shakes his head. “Get her some tea. You don’t want her to develop an upset stomach and throw up during her ceremony.”
She smiles sweetly, making Tyrion’s cheeks turn a vibrant pink. “Ah, that’s a better idea! Good thinking Lord Tyrion.”
In the corner of your room, lounging at your round table was Jaime and Inniros being briefed on their roles by Alizah and Melisandre. Behind Inniros was Sirvart leaning against the wall but with a cautious eye on the darkin, her whip at the ready. The red priest Kafele, a man in his middle age, was in attendance as well to decorate Jaime’s own hands with the same dye Siofra had used on you. Initially he had grimaced when the older man had walked up to him with it and outright refusing. Tyrion told him to suck it up and to add salt to his wound had Kafele paint his own hands. Jaime, not being one to be outshined, relented.
Inanna goes to the packed table and pours you a cup of tea that would calm you. Carefully you take it from her small dark hands and thank her. A chair is also brought over to you so you could sit down and relax for a moment. Rhiannon helped you sit, holding your robes in such a way where they wouldn’t get stuck under you. “I’m fine. I’m just worried about using Lightbringer in front of all those people. I haven’t been able to summon the flames.”
“When the time is right, you will.” Melisandre says, although it didn’t necessarily make you feel any better. All you could do was blindly trust in her cryptic words.
“Maybe you just need to stab Inniros’ shadow again.” Jaime grins and teasingly looks at the bored darkin.
Inniros doesn’t blink an eye at Jaime’s remark, merely shrugging. “You can try.”
You shake your head. “No, I don’t think that’s necessary.”
Rhiannon hums thoughtfully, sitting at your feet and resting her head against your knees. “What emotions were you feeling when you first summoned Lightbringer’s flames?”
Thinking back to that day, you grow silent and close your eyes. You attempted to put yourself back there in your mind. You remember seeing Jaime, held down by Inniros’ shadow and about to be killed. Rage had filled you. Unadulterated rage ran through your veins and the urge to protect your older brother. Such an intense feeling was something you had never felt. Sorrow was nothing new to you. Even growing up with your cruel sister and distant father, you hadn’t felt resentment, only sadness that they didn’t love you or even care for you. Rage and anger was something entirely new to you.
You look at Jaime who wasn’t particularly paying attention until the red priest puts down his brush and turns around in his seat to face you. Kafele had the starting of wrinkles around his dark eyes and a peppered beard that covered his lower face. The top of his head was bald and shining. “Maybe you should call upon whatever you were feeling during that experience.”
“I’m not particularly angry about anything though. . .” You whisper against the rim of your cup.
“You have plenty to be angry about though!” chirps your little brother as he climbs atop of your bed, his red robes drag behind him. “Just think about all the things Cersei and father have done to you! And King Aerys!”
“I’m guessing you’re not used to feeling such a toxic feeling.” Alizah gently smiles.
“Obviously. Don’t you remember how she looked the first time we met her?” Sirvart speaks up from her place. “She didn’t even look like she could harm a fly. So sweet and wide eyed. Like a rabbit.”
Thinking for a moment, Jaime leans in his chair. “Well Cersei did use to call you a mouse.”
Clapping her hands, Sirvart nods. “That sounds more accurate!”
Blushing at their description of you, you still doubted that you could come up with such an intense rush again. It had nearly consumed you and. . . and something seemed to wake up inside of you. A feral beast that had been sleeping for so long. Just thinking about it made your heart pick up pace.
Rhiannon’s upside down face calms you back down and forces you to put on a wavering smile.
“It’s not the end of everything if you can’t do it yet.” Alizah’s words do happen to give you peace of mind. You trusted her word. “Of course Benerro will want you to show off, an actual testament that you are indeed Azor Ahai reborn. You’re still getting used to fighting with it. The two of you need to know eachother better. You and Lightbringer. It may be a sword, but it’s an extension of yourself and of the power of R’hllor.”
You had never really thought about it like that. If only you knew more about the actual Azor Ahai and how he had done all the things that was expected of him. True, the temple put you through lessons on their faith and history, never on a personal level. You had learned hymns and the many trials that Azor Ahai went through to forge Lightbringer. Definitely nothing you had to do. He had labored thirty days and thirty nights to forge the sword. Even then it broke had he had to repeat his actions again. And then again. Someone made your Lightbringer. Maybe it was because you didn’t put in your blood, sweat and tears into the steel? There was no personal connection.
Finishing up your tea, Rhiannon stood and took it from your waiting hand. She lingers before whispering for just your ears to hear “Don’t worry. Thalina had faith in you. Have faith in Thalina too.”
The first true smile you felt in the entire day warmed you from the inside. You couldn’t worry about it. Worrying now would do nothing for you in the long run. When the moment came, well, then you would deal with it. Thalina had gotten you this far and she hadn’t been wrong yet.
You nod and catch Jaime’s gaze. Hardly ever having his emotions on his sleeves, you saw evident worry in the depths of his eyes. The two of you had gone through so much. You had spent more time with him in Essos than you ever had growing up in Casterly Rock. Growing to know each other like the back of your hands you knew Jaime was concerned with all this fanfare and the pressure it was putting on you. He kept his thoughts to himself and merely pressed his lips together, returning his attention to the artful details being painted onto his hands and running up to his elbow. The dye was meant for warriors afterall. Sirvart was displaying her own designs as her arms were folded, obediently observing the darkin.
Going back to preparing the boys, Melisandre finishes with her words directed to Inniros. “I know you boys will be on your best behavior today. It will be the most important day of your lives. The world will know that (y/n) is Azor Ahai reborn.”
For the first time, Inniros showed interest. “The whole world?”
Melisandre nods, narrowing her eyes at him in suspicion. “Of course.”
“Even all the way to Westeros?”
Rhiannon caught on fast and a new sense of dread made her clutch her skirts. “The king will know she’s alive then. And. . . your sister will know where you are.”
Had she told you that a few months ago, most likely you would have been stricken with the same fear. You felt nothing though. If all of Westeros knew you were alive, Rhaegar would know too. Hope sprung up immediately and you couldn’t stop your smile from widening. “I’m not scared of Cersei. Or of Aerys.”
Melisandre smiled at you with great pride and even Sirvart smirked. The female Fiery Hand chuckles. “You certainly have grown since your days stumbling in Volon Therys.”
On your night stand was the box which the ancient dragon egg had been hiding. You get up from your seat and wander over to it, making sure your back concealed what you were looking at. But Tyrion knew as he craned his neck slightly on your bed. With the hope bubbling in you, touching the rough scales of the egg seemed to amplify that light feeling that tickled your chest. Rhaegar will know you’re alive. Hopefully once he knew maybe he would come for you once the war was over. Better yet, you hoped he would wait for your eventual return. You would always return to him. Now it felt like a closer reality.
Gentle footsteps fall behind you and in one fluid motion, you hide your opal and turn around. Alizah is standing in front of you, that permanent gentle smile. “Nuha kosh, may I have a private word with you in the antechamber?”
“Of course.” Picking up the skirts of your robes as not to get the hem dirty, you walk over to her.
“You as well, Rhiannon.” She addresses Rhiannon who had been polishing your ceremonial headwear. Slightly confused as to her summons, Rhiannon steadily joins you over to the door that leads to the antechamber. The walls are curved making the room a circular shape with a royal blue rug on the floor. A stout, round coffee table was in the center, surrounded by dark orange cushions. Other multi-colored pillows were present for added comfort.
Rhiannon made herself comfortable, laying on her side across the cushions. Honestly it was unladylike since she was in a dress, but that’s what you liked about Rhiannon. She was so comfortable with herself.
Without any assistance, Alizah sits down on the plush ground and looks up at you. Her smile widens at your expression. “Don’t look so worried. I was merely wanting to discuss the matter of that box that was so kindly delivered by Barristan Selmy.”
You had been waiting for one of the Red Temple clergy to ask you about it and you knew it lay heavy on their minds. If it was from Thalina that meant it was something of great importance. The question was on their tongues but they were willing to wait until you were ready to tell them.
Nodding, you decide that you trust Alizah enough to tell her the truth about what Thalina had sent you and the darkin confirming it’s true nature.
None of what you told her seemed to surprise the red priestess one bit. “And Rhiannon, you were the one who solved the puzzle to break open the box. How clever of your older sister. She planned out everything thus far and the events have been executed precisely. (y/n), Rhiannon, Thalina had another goal besides bringing the two of you together. Something else she had foreseen in the flames and that was bringing back dragons.”
That made Rhiannon sit up, her brows scrunched. “Bring back dragons? Thalina saw that actually happening?”
She nods and glances at you. “(y/n) is the key to everything. That is why I’m not too concerned if you can’t summon the fire of Lightbringer. Because during the ceremony you will take that egg and hatch it in front of all to see.”
You gawked at her before laughing nervously. When Alizah didn’t say she was kidding, you stopped and became anxious once more. “I think it would be more simple to try and get Lightbringer’s flames to surface. But, dragons Alizah. . . Dragons haven’t been seen for a century. Even Aerys couldn’t resurrect the last surviving dragon eggs. And now you truly expect me to do the impossible.”
“Thalina didn’t think it too impossible.” Alizah replies but pats the spot next to her for you to sit. “Relax. I have a plan set up. I’ve seen in my own visions a great pyre in which you sit in the center with your dragon egg.”
“She’ll burn!” Rhiannon exclaimed, looking panicked at the mere thought.
You were about to agree with her but then a faint memory arises; you laying down on the cushioned grass, still smelling of smoke while Jaime told you of the events that had previously taken place. You were still weak and slightly ill but you could never forget Jaime telling you how despite your room being up in flames, they didn’t touch you. Even as the fire consumed your bed and the corpse of Thalina. You had remained in one piece with no burn marks.
Alizah seemed to read your thoughts with her vacant, dark eyes. “Fire will not harm you. Not R’hllor’s champion.”
Rhiannon didn’t like it though, her fingers curling into her palm as she rocked on her heels. “We can’t risk it. . . If fire does harm her-”
“That’s the thing about faith. Sometimes you have to squash down your worries and blindly hope that things will work out. When you have a higher power to trust in, anything may be possible.”
“Sure, blindly believe. But what if your theory proves to be wrong? I’m not-” You noticed Rhiannon’s eyes begin to shine with the threat of tears that she tried to brusquely wipe away. “-I’m not losing another sister.”
Ever so slowly your own vision became hazy as your own tears became obstructive. Not even Cersei had claimed you with such pride and worry as her sister. Yet here Rhiannon was, calling you her sister. A lump developed in your throat as you try not to cry. They wouldn’t obey you and tears soon trickled down your cheek. It was too sweet and too heartbreaking.
“You told me to believe in Thalina, Rhiannon.” You took a deep breath and dabbed at your eyes with the sleeve of your robes. “To have faith in her. I’m scared too, but Thalina has yet to be wrong. If she saw that I was the one to bring back dragons, then I must be. Right? And If Alizah sees me not succumbing to the fire, then all I can do is try and live up to her vision.”
Pursed lips, Rhiannon’s shoulder trembled a little bit as her mind spiraled with all of the negative outcomes that could happen.
“In order to even hope to have the courage to go through with this, I need you by my side.” If Rhiannon wasn’t there with you to transfer her endless supply of bravery, you knew you would crumble on the spot.
“You shouldn’t let your fear show, Viserys is like an animal. He can smell fear.” Thalina had told you one day after he had threatened you. You had witnessed first hand the cruelty of Viserys after he had taken a blade and cut off Thalina’s beautiful braids. That incident had made you steer clear of the young Targaryen prince. He had the same malicious tendencies as Cersei.
“But he scares me.” You whimpered.
Thalina laughs. “That little squid? Trust me, he is nothing to fear. He’s just a bully. You just have to show him that you aren’t going to put up with his attitude.”
“I can’t do that. He’s a prince of the Seven Kingdoms. If I do something to displease him, he’ll tell the king.”
Moving a piece of your dirty blonde hair behind your ear, Thalina hums. “But you are Rhaegar’s future bride. One day you will be queen. That trumps being a prince. Viserys will be second in line for the throne until you produce an heir. Then he will be obsolete.”
When Viserys had cut off her hair, Thalina was livid and had grabbed the prince to promptly spank him on his rear. The horror you felt watching it. You had been sure that there would be terrible repercussions from her actions. You had tried to get Thalina to run away, worried that there would be guards showing up at any moment to execute her. But there was none. Only the matronly septa who turned her head, pretending not to see anything. Viserys had run howling to Queen Rhaella but received another reprimand from his mother.
You always wished you could be fearless like Thalina. Being next to her, you could feel her courage seep into you for as long as Thalina was by your side. When she was around you weren’t afraid of Viserys but Viserys was afraid of Thalina.
“I no longer have Thalina in my life. I need you Rhiannon.”
Gulping down her emotions, Rhiannon wipes her face. She was trying her best to put on a tough facade. Helplessly she looks at you with red rimmed eyes and determination.
“Then it shall be done, mandia(sister).”
A weight was lifted off of you. Now you could confidently ask Alizah “What do you need me to do?”
“Promise me one thing.” Jaime had one hand on the handle of the temple’s front door. A giant of a structure that led out to the crowd you could hear waiting with anticipation to see you.
Rhiannon on your left and Tyrion accompanying you on your right, you glance at your older brother.He didn’t look straight at you, choosing to keep his gaze focused forward.
Your entourage that trailed behind you stood silently.
Your left hand held your large opal while the other kept a steady grip on Lightbringer’s pommel. “What’s that?”
“Please don’t burn to a crisp.”
“Jaime!” Rhiannon remarks in a sharp tone before shaking her head with exasperation.
Actually you quite appreciated Jaime’s lighthearted attempt at diffusing your nerves that were already at a debilitating amount. “Hah, yeah, I’ll try.”
“You know what I mean.” He takes a deep breath.
“Do you not think I can do it?”
“Absolutely not.” Finally turning in him, you take all of Jaime in. The scar under his dancing green eyes. His long braid he had incorporated into his hair, casually resting on his shoulder. He wore armor over his ceremonial garb with vambraces that shimmered gold. Rubies and topaz decorated the rimmed arc “I would be a fool if I thought you couldn’t do this. I witnessed the most impossible things. Well, nothing seems impossible when you’re concerned. I know you can do this. Just. . . I’m still going to worry about you and feel like this could go terribly. And Tyrion, you look completely calm.”
“I believe in her too.” Tyrion smiles up at you, his long, curly hair framing his large forehead.
A knock from the outside was your signal to begin your descent to the circular plateau that led out to the plaza market of Volantis.
“The priests are ready for you, nuha kosh.” Melisandre instructed you, her hands folded in front of her and head held high.
Show time.
The booming voice of High Priest Benerro penetrated the door, a stream of words in Valyrian that were deaf on your ears as you tried to keep your composure. Heavily concentrated on your breathing, you stare as the doors slowly open; the other had been pulled open by Iyan. Bright, blinding sunlight makes your eyes squint up. You held the egg closer to your side, mentally trying to reach out to the warmth inside. That soothing closeness that reassured you.
Hanging tapestries that blew in the partial breeze portrayed the Red Temple’s burning heart against scarlet fabric. In the vestibule, the bridge was blocked off by Fiery Hands that held their weapons at the ready. People nearly spilled over them but you knew it would take a lot more to get past your guards. They clamoured on tip toes to try and be the one to catch the first glimpse of Azor Ahai.
The heat from the pyre in the center could be felt from miles away. There was no way you could get past the loud pounding of your heart in your ears to listen to the High Priest’s introduction. At a slow pace, you step forward until the sunlight fully reveals you for all to see. Vibrations from their cries of jubilation shook you to your core and you nearly lost the will to move forward had Rhiannon not given you an encouraging nudge.
Go on (y/n). You can do this. Even if every inch of me is trembling. . .
Summoning strength from your tightly clutched dragon egg you stiffly continue your walk until you are right next to Benerro. He had his arms out, welcoming the world to you.
“Chin up, (y/n).” Joanna smiled patiently, her index finger coaxing your chin up so that your eyes met hers. “There we go. That’s much better. Let everyone see your face.”
Remembering her words, you hesitantly raise your gaze up, your crown pulling you up. His tattooed face breaks out in a smile despite his mouth appearing to actually lack lips, the sun beating down on his bald head. Under the light of day, his pale face almost looked skeletal. You always thought he was a little ominous looking, but he had always been good to you so brushed off his horrendous appearance.
“Se dārilaros bona iksin kivio. Ōñosmaghare's āeksio se Rullor's kosh. Kessa mazilībagon se path va perzys se udrāzma iā azantyr naejot pryjagon se azantyr hen tolie. Rytsas se kosh qilōni kessa iōragon against sȳndror ,(y/n) Targārien. Azōr Ahaī sigligon! (The princess that was promised. Lightbringer's master and R'hllor's champion. She will set the path on fire and command an army to destroy the forces of the Others. Welcome the champion who will stand against darkness ,(y/n) Targaryen. Azor Ahai reborn!)” His thin and feeble stature betrayed his loud booming voice that reached even those who were looking out their balconies and windows. The city streets were completely covered in civilians. Not even when you married Rhaegar at the sept had there been so many people. They moved like a wave vibrating with energy enough to overwhelm you. You stood tall though and took a deep breath.
You knew Benerro wanted you to say a speech. Actions were louder than words though and you passed by him, down the small flight of stairs, Rhiannon falling beside you easily without a word. The red priests that were gathered along the sides murmured nervously, unsure of what you were about to do.
Closer to the fire until even the crowd started to voice their worry. From your periphery you noticed an older priest pull at the arm of a Fiery Hand who merely shook their head, having been given strict instructions from Weles not to interfere.
Face to face with the inferno, tongues of flames whipped out at you. While the heat was indeed intense, it wasn’t so bad as to deter you. No, a comfort of sorts beckoned you closer.
Before you stepped a foot any further, you shed yourself of your gaudy garlands and ancient robes that would be quickly engulfed in flames. Even the spiked crown made of precious gold. Everything that could be potentially destroyed were discarded, leaving you in a short sleeved, white dress made of soft cotton. It had taken so long to put on you yet mere seconds to take off. You unsheath Lightbringer and pierce an opening into the tall flames. The closer you were to the fire, the safer you felt. Worried shouts from the audience were suddenly becoming a mere muffle. Your hearing was overcome with the crackling of wood as the flames appeared to be parting just for you. Making a way to the heart of the pyre. Enclosing you in like a fairy nestled inside of a flower, you stare all around you.
Cozy was the first word that came to you. Flames did indeed start eating at your dress. If this did indeed work, then that meant you would be naked in front of possibly thousands of people. A self conscious thought you couldn’t help but think about as you saw your naked skin become visible.
You look down at the egg you were holding, your sword hand trembling a little as you held the blade up. Alright. . . If there’s still life in you, please, please let this be enough heat for you.
Cradling it closer against your chest, you carefully rest your chip atop of it’s soft teardrop shape. “It’s just us in here. It’s okay.” You squeezed your eyes shut and prayed. They were ancient prayers that Melisandre had told you of in a language that you had never heard before. She said they would help to stoke the flames if the heat needed to be increased. You muttered them quickly and with fervor. Within seconds you felt the temperature rise abruptly and it even made you begin to sweat. Slowly you brought your sword arm down and to your delight, Lightbringer’s own steel was swept up in it’s own flames. They didn’t tarnish your blade and you felt the same swirl of familiarity surge through you. You smiled wide and continued your chanting.
In your arms you felt a heartbeat and around you the flames began to depict figures. One looked like your regal mother, prim and proper smiling at you. The other was Thalina.
The figure of a man you didn't know manifested, tall and burly with long hair that whipped in the flickering flames. Features of his face were obscured and unclear, but you saw his cheeky smile.
The cracking of the shell as you felt the egg begin to budge.
Your orange blanket of safety began to dance erratically.
Pure joy had you crying when you saw a piece of the shell pop off.
An eager mouth poking out.
You became part of the pure warmth of the fire. Twining arms came out to hold you and you swore you could hear your mother's voice whisper in your ear.
The structure around the pyre began to crumble under the pressure of the rising flames as they seemed to reach for the sky.
Many people had begun to disperse, fearful of what would happen.
Jaime was starting to feel light headed, not realizing that he hadn’t been breathing since (y/n) stepped into the fire. His eyes were starting to burn and the smoke was almost unbearable.
The red priests and priestesses were not as concerned. They had been chanting louder and louder. Picking up tempo, Jaime noticed the flames begin to creep down. Intervention of the darkin brought the fire down immensely before his shadows completely snuffed it out, creeping back to their caverns and crevices. Jaime had never thought that the darkin would be able to use his shadow magic against the fire. It was bright after all and the light of it could have eaten his pathetic shadows.
“Have you not heard of that saying, Jaime?” Inniros, seeming to read his mind, glared at him with his only eye. Looking at him made Jaime feel sick. He was unnatural. “The brightest lights cast the darkest shadows.”
Did everyone in the continent have to speak in that annoying, mystical manner? It annoyed him to no end that everything just had to be so vague with them.
With the flames having all but disappeared, he could see his sister and finally he allowed himself to start breathing again. Good, she was okay. Still standing with Lightbringer’s flames still burning despite her clothes having been burned off leaving her in her own skin. Her once long hair had been diminished to the length of her jawline and was patchy but even so she seemed alright.
Nothing could have prepared him for the wriggling creature in (y/n)’s ash covered arms. The creature that mewled pathetically to everyone's great shock as some red priests even jumped back when they heard the abnormal sound.
He knew this had been Alizah’s plan. They had informed everyone before making the descent to the ceremony what was to be expected leaving no time for Jaime to interject. He had to go along with whatever she told him.
Still. . . Jaime could only stare and smile like a maniac.
Of course she did it.
What was left of the crowd were starting to lean in, finding it hard to believe their own vision. Then there was a cheer from the congregation of Red Temple priests. Cheers grew to a deafening roar. Those who had run away at the sight of the towering inferno soon came back hesitantly at the cries of disbelief that were emerging.
The small dragon in (y/n)’s arms stretched its wings, the scales sparkling in different flecks of green, blue, yellow, and pink. Its small shriek could still be heard over the clamour.
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#reader insert#reader insert fanfiction#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones fanfic#asoiaf fanfiction#game of thrones#asoiaf fanfic#asoiaf fandom#a song of ice and fire fanfiction#a song of ice and fire fanfic#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones reader insert#asoiaf reader insert#asoiaf fic#a song of ice and fire x you#a song of ice and fire x reader
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when you dislike the MC of a good series AKA Who Will Die in The Wicked Powers
damn, being petty enough to flip off the MC x canon ship in my (favorite) fandom is really kicking me in the ass--
yeah, basically I can't touch half the TSC stuff on Tumblr bc I'm so anti-Clace...(meanwhile I love literally every other character that's been in every Shadowhunter series)...& they're probably gonna have a wedding + kids in the next books (assuming Jace isn't killed)...
The Wicked Powers is most definitely gonna have the Princes of Hell as the main villains. I feel like Luke, Gwyn, or Izzy will die, since the younger Shadowhunters are supposed to be central & well...look at the couples who will be alive/extant by TWP:
SPOILERS FOR ALL SHADOWHUNTER BOOKS!!
Jace & Clary
Magnus & Alec
Simon & Izzy
Julian & Emma
Kit & Ty
Kieran/Cristina/Mark
Dru & Ash (& maybe Jaime)
Diana & Gwyn
Luke & Jocelyn
Tessa & Jem
(forgive me if I'm missing anyone!)
Jace already died once. Clary had dreams about dying, but those were shown to be visions of Thule. Based on canon events, I think they're Clare's favorite ship. SAFE.
Magnus almost gave himself to Asmodeus in CoHF. Alec almost-ish died saving Magnus in The Eldest Curses. Also, Alec almost died thanks to that poison demon in TMI (the one Magnus saved him from). Malec might end up forced to rule some region of Hell (reason unknown but I think it'll have to do with them beating/destroying Asmodeus). I feel like past events foreshadow Magnus dealing with the unfortunate sides of being a warlock. But he won't die--the "killing your gays" trope might actually save he & Alec.
Simon nearly died when the vampires attacked him (when he was a mundane), then when Valentine bled him pre-Daylighter (then Jace's blood saved him). He "sacrificed" himself to Asmodeus CoHF, in the form of his vampire immortality + memories (which he basically got back later on). Izzy...she's been through a lot psychologically & about as much as I think most Shadowhunters would physically. She lost Max & her dad. But she's a badass (I'm not faulting her for it, either). So I don't think she's safe.
Julian & Emma both lost their parents in horrible ways. Their whole series was about the parabatai curse (which, to me, was conveniently not mentioned in chronologically earlier series...probably because it wasn't invented til TDA was written, lol). They're kinda written to be the leaders of Livvy's Watch. SAFE.
Kit has his whole faerie power reveal shit to explore & he + Ty are some of the major characters in TWP. I'm pretty sure they'll spend the series healing their relationship. SAFE.
Kieran/Cristina/Mark will survive because 1) Kieran as the Unseelie King is an important Shadowhunter ally, 2) they're poly rep in YA, which is rare, and 3) killing one of them off would leave the others to mourn in such a weird way. SAFE.
I love Dru Blackthorn. She's one of the main of TWP, so I think she'll survive, plus tbh I don't think any more Blackthorns will be killed. Ash will probably end up as the Seelie King or as Clace's adopted son, to "redeem" Sebastian in a narrative sense. Jaime's sort of a main for TWP as one of Dru's love interests. SAFE.
Diana & Gwyn aren't main characters (though I like their romance). Diana also is the ONLY transgender person in all the books (unless I missed something). I don't think she'll be killed off. Gwyn might be just because I see the Wild Hunt as an important group in TWP & he might die protecting Diana (narratively, this shows strengthened faerie-Shadowhunter relations, despite the Wild Hunt being unaffiliated with either Court).
Luke & Jocelyn deserve to be endgame, but I could see Luke being killed off as one of those "MC's loved one is killed so the MC goes & avenges them" type of things. I love Luke & Jocelyn as characters, though.
Tessa & Jem deserve to be endgame, arguably, more than any couple. They were the mains in their series, then Jem survived but was sort-of-"lost" when he became a Silent Brother. Then he miraculously became a (mortal) Shadowhunter again when he was burned by heavenly fire, he just left the Clave behind to hang with Tessa (good choice!). Tessa has a baby & she's gonna suffer enough when she outlives Jem. SAFE?
#anti clace#tsc#the shadowhunter chronicles#book predictions#admin#shadowhunters#malec#clace#kierarktina#sizzy#books#nephilim#book death#fictional characters#unpopular opinion#hot take#I promise you I don't like Clary but I love everyone else
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The Arrangement
Part I. Terms and Conditions
Jaime Lannister x OC
MC is Breena Baratheon. The little sister of King Robert and Stannis, the younger twin of Renly. I originally planned to write my Jon Snow story for her first, since I ship her both with Jaime and Jon 🤭 Buuuuut the Jaime story is a lot angstier, and I was in the mood for some angst.
Summary: Tyrion is sent to the wall for the murder of Joffrey. Jaime is released from the King's Gaurd per his agreement with Twyin. Tywin has made an arrangement with Breena so that she will willingly and comfortably marry Jaime. Breena and Jaime come to their own agreement as well.
"I have found you a wife," Tywin declared as he watched his eldest son and heir from across the Hand's chambers. Jaime was uninterested. Fiddling with any small knick knack he could find in his father's office.
"And who might that be?" The Kingslayer asked. His tone was flat and bored. He did not want a wife. Nor children. He did not want Casterly Rock. But these were the sacrifices he made to save his little brother's life. Now here he was, being mated like cattle.
"See for yourself," his father said as he motioned for the guard to open the door. In stepped a young woman with raven hair and eyes of lilac. Her full lips were closed in a line. He knew her. Breena Baratheon. King Robert's little sister. He had not seen her since the trip to Winterfell. Since then, she had been married off and sent to the Vale. She'd squeezed out a babe, and her husband had since died. Luckily for him.
She was beautiful. There was no denying that. Her raven hair was almost darker than the night. She'd inherited the almost hauntingly beautiful Valyarian eyes from her grandmother Rhaelle Targaryen. She had a naturally sweet looking complexion. Though, when she was angry, her face no longer looked so innocent. Such as this moment. She looked as though she wanted to skin Jaime alive.
To make matters more complicated, Cersei despised her. He did not know why. For years, Breena had been the little sister Cersei never had. Then, almost overnight, Breena became her worst enemy.
Breena looked as excited about this arrangement as Jaime did. Her violet eyes looked him over, clearly unimpressed. "Lady Breena," Jaime forced himself to speak, nodding to his intended respectfully.
"Ser Jaime." She replied as she too tipped her head forward at him.
"Lady Breena has agreed to this match under certain conditions," the Hand explained.
"Such as?" Jaime inquired, his eyes not leaving his intended bride. He did not remember her looking so womanly before. It was most likely because she had been hidden beneath layers of warm wool and furs in Winterfell. Robert had sent her North years before. He believed Ned Stark would have been a better example for her than he or his brothers ever could. It was so rare for him and Robert to agree on something.
"Such as Storm's End will be returned to Lady Breena. She will inherit the castle and carry out her duties as Lady of Storm's End from Casterly Rock until she has given you two sons," Tywin went on.
"Two?" He questioned.
"Our firstborn son will be a Lannister and will inherit Casterly Rock after you," Breena spoke up, stepping closer to Jaime. "Our second son will bear the name Baratheon and will inherit Storms End after me." She explained, her chin held high as she laid out her demands. "And I am free to leave Casterly Rock whenever I please after I've given you an heir. If I choose, I can return to Storm's End and remain there as long as I like."
"This sounds like quite the marriage. When can we start?" He asked as sarcasm laced his words. "I imagine you've already agreed to this?" The Kingslayer asked as he turned to face his father. Jaime felt powerless. Trapped like a pet in a cage.
The Hand nodded. "We need to reclaim the Stormlands after we've defeated Stannis Baratheon," he said as he nodded to their solution standing just before them.
"How do you know we can trust her? That she won't betray us?" Jaime asked.
"Because we'll have her son," Tywin said simply, his deep voice almost threatening as his eyes watched the Baratheon woman before him.
"And I'll have yours," Breena reminded Jaime, her arms folding across her chest as her violet eyes darkened.
The new Lord of Casterly Rock stared in silence. He was surprised she would use her child as a weapon against him. This was certainly no longer that innocent girl from Winterfell, he thought.
"You'll be married in a fortnight. I suggest you get to know one another," Tywin dismissed them.
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Is drake garbage? Yes. But is he worse than Ramsay? Jake? All the other boring white men who I am thankfully forgetting right now? I need to know your official ranking of worst male lis. I need to.
ooooh ok im thinking rn of who is where…. ok so this is from worst to best. <33 ill put them under the cut.
connor. creep who hangs around high schools… why does he canonically have like no friends his age?
drake is second because ik we think hes a gold digging misogynist and he is those two things… at least mc is an appropriate age for him.
parker. bitch boy. hate his existence.
cassius. worst li in acor which isn’t honestly that bad as the others r all top tier.
ethan is lower bc oph 1 + half of oph2 r god-tier so his good series makes up for him being a freak.
chris from tf. so many issues and expected mc to deal with them like she was his therapist. its not my fault ur father never came back chris.
michael from hss shouldn’t be on this list at all. love him <333. so i’m putting wes here in his place. an insufferable creep who looked 45 when he should be 18. autumn has shit judgement who would pick him over julian????
thomas hunt. I HATE HIM.
simon from std. hate him purely bc everyone was putting his ass on a pedestal while dragging my mans justin. simon ur literally bland. the personification of the colour beige.
flynn from vos. gave me nightmares. also how u hate cops and then u become one???? where r ur morals man 😟
ugly bartending dude from roe. the one drake was based off of. he’s here bc thanks to him drake existed. he’s in hell rn.
jake from es. sean supremacy <33 hated him bc i always took sean’s side on everything. also i hated the weird lil nickname he gave mc like i don’t like u??? we not that close bro 😟
dom from tc&tf. boring sorry. also ugly but he’s not annoying ig. thats why he’s low.
ernest sinclaire. remember nothing abt him which is a good sign. he’s slightly ugly tho but he’s british it’s not his fault x
sawyer. cute?? i didn’t finish bsc. no issues with him. hate his dad tho.
elliot from ptr. forgettable. didn’t do anything bad besides be british which is why he’s here.
that white dude from bachelorette party. reed? boring but rich. no issues with him ig. i read it more so for the female friendships.
the guy from wishful thinking. audrey? cute. also forgettable. was nothing next to anna and jaime.
male avery from platinum. also british but sweet. so he’s low.
nate from sunkissed was acc so cute. i romanced him and he was so sweet, a lil cringy but i can deal.
nathan from tf. idc i love him <33 rich white bitch of a man but he acknowledges that and he also almost rid the world of tyler aka the most annoying side character in tf.
beckett. annoying in te2 but cute in te1… i love him srry 🤣 also teh book cover vers of him ATE.
grayson from hero. soo sweet but he was the victim to the sexy kenji and the sexier eva. how was he meant to thrive with such hot competition…. 💔
MARK FROM LOVEHACKS CAN DO NOOO WRONG <333333 LOVE U MARK FROM LOVEHACKS TEXT ME <3333
#yes im british yes im a proud britphobe yes we exist#tell me if u agree#i think i got everyone??#jade answers
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for @choicedits song challenge
song: formidable- twenty one pilots
pairing: jaime lewis x mc (my fav friendship and relationship ♡‿♡)
i cherry picked some lyrics suitable to the pictures!
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recently finished my playthrough of our life up to cove's wedding dlc and i started a new file to play the baxter dlc.
i always had cove at 'fond' or 'crush' so this time i tried it with 'indifferent' and i'm really liking it actually! it totally changes the flavor of the relationships and my mc's character
i wonder though, since i'm planning to romance baxter, if it's more interesting to have cove at 'indifferent' in step 3 or at 'fond'
anyone have any opinions?
#our life beginnings & always#our life#gb patch#cove holden#baxter ward#jaime last#cove x mc#baxter x mc#princess plays games
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By Your Side
Pairing: Jaime x MC
Word Count: 1,150
Rating/Warnings: Teen; mild innuendo
Summary: New nightly accommodations lead Jaime and Arden to reveal their true feelings.
Note: This story is a half-baked variation of the “there’s only one bed” trope, written for @choicesficwriterscreations ’s Silly Love Stories event. It also fits the @choicesfebchallenge prompt for “Gossip,” if you squint.
Arden turned the corner sharply, small backpack hitting the ridge of her spine with an audible thump. She took a deep breath, resisting the urge to sigh with her exhale. Here, the air was clean and clear.
If she wanted to, she could still catch the scent of the city on her clothes: the traces of asphalt and stale beer held tight to the collar of her denim jacket.
Maybe it was a good thing Ellen hadn’t been available for this trip, after all. It was difficult to imagine the older woman blending in at the downtown hostel for five whole days without setting off someone’s alarm bells. Comfortable as Arden was conducting interviews on the set of The Ellen and Arden Show, undercover investigations remained her favorite part of the job. When this opportunity had arisen, it had been too tantalizing lead for her to pass up.
Behind her, a taxi slowed and came to a stop. The smack of the door was followed by a well-known pattern of footsteps. With Ellen otherwise engaged, she’d traded one partner for another.
Patience running low, she slowed her tread for Jaime to catch up. This far from the city, she was no longer worried about people seeing them together.
“Miss me?”
“Always,” she replied, a giggle hovering at her lips.
The entered the hotel together, Jaime staying close as she checked them in for the night. He’d insisted many times that he was comfortable with the arrangements of the past week, though his unspoken concerns as they’d passed one another in the hostel hallways had been frequent. Clearly, he was just as relieved as she was to have reached this stage of the journey. Tomorrow's flight would take them both back to Northbridge and the normalcy that came with it.
Leaving the front desk with a smile, Arden pocketed the key cards and made a beeline to the elevator. The doors sealed shortly after, leaving her alone with Jaime for the first time in nearly a week.
“Did you--”
“I can’t wait to--” she hesitated upon realizing that they’d been speaking over each other.
Sorry, too excited there.
Arden smiled knowingly. “You go first,” she prompted, reveling in the feeling of his proximity and the comparative silence. These past few days, her mind had been so full.
He shifted closer, the flannel of his sleeve raising the hairs on her forearm. “I was going to ask if you’d filled that notebook with new leads. I know I only saw bits and pieces, but it seemed like things were going well.”
“So well! You would not believe how believe how much intel I got talking with those women.”
"I might, actually, considering your ‘secret weapon’...”
Arden winked at his exaggerated air quotes.
“...Anyway, what were you saying?”
“I was saying that I can’t wait to get cleaned up and put on fresh clothes.”
Their legs swayed with the motion of the elevator before it stabilized. “You’ll have your chance soon.”
Key in hand, Arden led him into the hallway until they reached room 437. Jaime was close behind, still taking his role as protector a little too seriously. “This place is going to seem like a mansion after the bedrooms in the hostel,” she mused as the light on the handle flicked from red to green.
She hit the switch for the overhead light as she passed, taking in the quaint accommodations with an appreciation born of recent experience. Sensing Jaime’s presence nearby, she looked up to find his attention directed to the center of the room.
“There’s only one bed,” he whispered. The hand that had been floating at her side made contact, thumb finding its way beneath the hem of her sweatshirt.
“Of course there is.” She arched into his touch, leaning her head back until it nudged his collarbone. "We’ve been married and sharing a bed for four years, Jaime. Were you expecting me to book a room with two?”
His eyes screwed up with distaste. “I’d push them together if you did.”
“And I’d help. Hostels are excellent for blending in and getting in on local gossip, but not so much for spending time together.” She dropped her bag to the chair and began searching for her small pack of toiletries.
"I’m just saying, I’m glad we’re together tonight.”
“I am too.” Locating the desired object, she ventured toward the ensuite. “Turns out, it’s hard for me to sleep without having you there to grope me all night.”
“Grope?”
She showed him a sliver of tongue when he joined her at the sink. “You know what I mean.”
“I’ll keep my hands to myself tonight,” he threatened, though his thoughts told her a very different story.
“Ha ha,” she intoned blandly before cutting a length of floss. Jaime grazed her with a hip on his way to the faucet, and quiet reigned for a few moments as they completed their respective tasks. Though his mouth was obscured by a toothbrush, she could make out his smile by the squint in his eyes.
She grinned back, leaning away from him momentarily to dispose of her floss. “Also, I never realized how much your breathing lulls me to sleep. The room at the hostel wasn’t quiet, but it was the wrong kind of noise if that makes sense.” Arden prepped her own toothbrush while she waited for him to spit.
“Perfect sense. I kept expecting to hear you to start talking half-asleep like you usually do when you’ve been researching all day.”
Her eyes widened at the undesireable prospect. “Let’s hope my poor roommates weren’t subjected to too much incoherent mumbling. I try to save that for you.” Arden shoved the toothbrush into her mouth, expecting Jaime would follow his normal routine and hop into the shower within moments.
As predicted, the faucet started running just seconds later. “There’s one thing I didn’t miss.” He’d chosen the perfect moment to make his revelation: he was out of sight, and she was unable to speak.
It didn’t take long for curiosity to get the better of her. “Hmmhh?”
“You trying to tuck your ice-cold nose into my shoulder blade.”
Arden rinsed her mouth quickly. “Sorry, but I can’t promise I won’t do it again. You’re awfully warm.”
One end of the curtain opened to reveal her husband’s familiar face. Even from several feet away, Arden could make out the glimmer of water on his dark lashes. “As long as my days end with you next to me in bed, Arden, I don’t care what state you come in.” Although you did kind of stink earlier... And come to think of it, I’m very, very warm right now.
Without waiting to hear anything further, she shed her jacket and sweatshirt onto their growing pile of clothes on the cold floor. She’d been planning to shower regardless; resisting her sudden urge to shower with him seemed foolish.
“Thought so,” Jaime chuckled, pulling the curtain shut again as she entered from the other side.
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Choices MC Appreciation Week: Day Four // hosted by @choicesmcappreciation
Inspiring Individuals: Leoni Link from Wishful Thinking
This sweet commission was from the incredible @shazrystyles . Thank you!
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November First (Ethan x MC)
Book: Open Heart, beyond
Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende)
Word count: 700
Rating/ Warning: Teen/ Slight Language
Premise: She’s homesick on her birthday and he makes her feel better.
A/N: Here’s the short fic I wanted to write for Lilac’s (and my) birthday!
The incessant late night rain drumming against her window was a melody, serenading her as she peered through the foggy glass. Clad in warm pajamas, basking in the peaceful silence of the apartment, the small moment was the perfect birthday gift. The city of Boston glimmered through the droplets and for a moment, it could have been any city in the world, even home.
Lilac’s chest yearned for it. She missed the warmth of her childhood home, bursting with the laughter of her family. Though Boston was her home now, she missed celebrating her birthday with a lumpy cake, even if someone (most likely her brother) upheld the family tradition of a mordida and smashed her face against it.
Strong arms wrapped around her then, warm lips finding their home on the curve of her neck.
“You cheated,” he hummed against her skin, sending a pleasant chill through her body.
“I had to open my eyes,” she explained with a laugh. “The city looks so beautiful when it rains.”
Ethan's lips lavished the column of her neck with slow, lazy kisses.
“You're right,” he said, reaching her jaw. “It is a breath-taking view.”
His strong hands squeezed her hips before turning her around to face him. A crooked smile greeted her, making his handsome face look years younger. Lilac felt her breath catch.
“I mean you, by the way,” he informed her matter-of-factly. “You're the breathtaking view.”
Lilac rolled her eyes before raising herself to kiss him.
“You're such a sap.”
He didn't deny it.
“Happy Birthday,” he whispered in her ear, sending her stomach into a nosedive. “Are you ready for your surprise?”
“If it's sex, there's very little that surprises me.”
Ethan raised his brows.
“It's not sex, Allende. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Ha! You're the more dirty-minded out of the two, babe.”
Ethan ignored this.
“I'm offended you think me predictable in bed.”
Lilac laughed. “Then you'll have to prove me wrong, old man.”
Without further ceremony, and much to her surprise, he easily scooped her into his arms. Lilac laughed as he carried her to the dining room without faltering. In her euphoric little bubble, she didn't notice the small display on the table.
“What's all this?”
Clay platters in vivid patterns of blue decorated the table, each housing a delicious meal. Lilac recognized each as the food her mother and her abuelita used to make for her. The aroma sent her back to various birthdays, each happier than the previous one. At the center of it all sat an ivory cake, dusted gracefully with powdered cinnamon.
“Your mother sent me the recipes of your favorite dishes,” Ethan explained. “I was on the phone with her all morning trying to get them right. The cake is tres leches. Your favorite.”
She was speechless. Even if she did know what to say, the lump in her throat made it difficult to speak. Ethan shifted slightly on his feet and it occurred to her that he was anxious for her response.
“They're not the same as what your mother herself makes, but I hope I did them justice.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before Lilac flung herself into his arms and kissed him. Whenever words failed, they poured everything they had into a kiss. It had become somewhat of a habit for them, ever since that first kiss in Miami.
This time, their lips moved so devotedly against one another that she was dizzy by the time they broke apart.
“I love you,” she told him breathlessly.
Her heart's longing for home eased in the depth of his blue eyes. The smile he gave her reassured her that she was home. And while she would always miss the place she had come from, she belonged in his embrace.
“I love you, Lilac,” he replied.
After another short kiss, he pulled back and grimaced.
“What?”
“Jaime had a peculiar request.”
“Which was?”
“That I pushed your face in the cake.”
“Smart man for ignoring it.”
“Who said I ignored it?”
There was a long, tense silence in which they locked eyes.
Then, all hell broke loose with Lilac sprinting one direction and Ethan chasing her with ease. She shrieked as she dove behind the couch, narrowly missing his grasp. Their laughter drowned out the sounds of the storm, their happiness a song.
Note: “Mordida” is when your Mexican family is chanting for you to “bite” your bday cake after you blow out the candles. For some unknown reason, you are a clown and agree, thinking you’re just going to take a tiny little bite and be done. But then, someone pushes your head down like you kicked their dog, stole their car, and owe them $1,000. Your whole face sinks into the cake (if you’re lucky). Legend has it that some people still have frosting up their nose even after years.
Thank you so much for reading!
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From the Ashes Pt. 26
Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister
Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, MC POV
Words: 3k+
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35
Book Two of Dārilaros hen ōrbar se perzys (Heir of Ash and Fire)
Tyrion’s small but blunt body crashed into your arms before you could fully prepare yourself. Ready or not, you held on tightly to your younger brother and inhaled the scent that clung to his dirty blonde hair. It was your Tyrion. You couldn’t ask him how in the world he had found you. Words would ruin this blissful moment. You would just be grateful to the gods that he was here now. There would be time for questions later.
Finally pulling away from him a few inches, you gaze at his face. His endearing large head and brow that made his eyes appear smaller. Oh but how you loved him so much.
That was when you took notice of a haggard man in a rather soiled looking brown cloak. Protectively under one arm was a rather large chest made of a rich dark wood. Surrounding him were priests of the temple and priestesses eying the foreigner suspiciously. Hands were already present, some barely arriving to the scene. Among them was Jaime being pulled by Rhiannon to the very center. He still wore his red training robes and bore the sweat of his efforts. Green eyes immediately find you on the ground. Fear flashes momentarily before he takes in the shape in your arms.
The boy in your arms cried out “Jaime!!”
Jaime nearly tripped over his own feet as he continued to stare with large eyes that screamed disbelief. “Tyrion. . . ?”
You didn’t care if there were dozens of people watching you. Right then you hardly cared about being upset with Jaime.
Releasing one hand from Tyrion, you beckon Jaime to join the two of you in a sibling embrace. All too gladly, Jaime skids onto his knees and gathers you and Tyrion in his slightly sticky arms. If there were a way you could stay in that moment, you would have given everything and anything.
“Gods be good. . .” you whisper against a curl of Tyrion’s hair. The salt air of ship life still clung to him. He had traveled by sea, that much was clear.
Rhiannon and Inanna scurry to your side. “My lady, would you and your siblings like a moment to yourselves?”
In protest, Iomhar pushes past his fellow priests. “Please wait nuha kosh! We need to settle the matter of how this stranger found you! As you have said, everyone in Westeros believes you to be dead.”
Helping you up, Jaime turns to Iomhar. “That is no stranger. That is one of the most celebrated warriors in all of Westeros.”
The older man smiles briefly. “Ser Jaime.”
“Ser Barristan. What are you doing so far away from the king?” His tone was teasing but in his gaze held fondness for his superior.
“I could be asking you the same thing. You disappeared the night of the fire in Princess (y/n)’s chambers. Now I understand.”
High Priest Benerro spots Iomhar about to intervene again but holds a patient hand up. “Weles, escort this Ser Barristan and nuha kosh’s family into our council chambers.”
Obediently, Weles bows and faces Barristan whom he was standing a few feet away. “This way, Ser.”
Barristan eyes the tattoos on his face before glancing over to Jaime. Jaime grins in reply. “Don’t worry. Weles doesn’t bite.”
“My blades do the biting.” It was a warning that was clear to everyone.
Inside of the council chambers was packed with Hands, a select few priests and priestesses. They hadn’t even given you that much security when you had first investigated Inniros. To them though, Barristan Selmy had yet proven to be trustworthy. Especially when he puts forth the box he had been protecting this entire time. According to him, it was Varys who revealed to him that you were still alive. He was the one who entrusted Barristan with this odd request. All because Thalina had entrusted the Spider with her last wish.
What about Tyrion? They seemed like the most unlikely duo.
“I ran away from Casterly Rock. My initial plan was to join Rhaegar’s army.”
“His army?”
“What army?” Jaime asked, equally confused.
Barristan shoots the young boy a wary glance. Tyrion saw it and knew he had to be careful with this news. Shyly he replies “Rhaegar is at war with Aerys. Has been for about a year. Last I heard they were on their way to King’s Landing. Dorne, the North and much of the Stormlands now support Rhaegar.”
“But Aerys still holds much sway in the Crownlands. They fear him too much.”
“Some HAVE switched to Rhaegar’s side though.” Tyrion reminds him pointedly.
Rhaegar was at war with his own father. The only thought that gave you comfort was that he wasn’t alone. How he had gotten Dorne was a mystery to you and overall an incredible blessing. Dornishmen fought like berserkers. The North though. . .
Lyanna.
You couldn’t stop the sudden drop of your heart when you heard that. So now that he thought you dead he was taking his chance with the woman he wanted to be with all along.
Noise and voices around you were ringing in. Space closing in on you by the second.
“(y/n)?” asks Tyrion tentatively as he stared worriedly at the glassiness of your eyes.
He was going back to Lyanna. All those nights you spent together; you thinking that maybe he was actually reciprocating your feelings. His touches made you feel loved. His tender words made you feel endeared. And the baby the two of you had created together. . .
Despair whispered to you to run. Get out of there and hide your shameful tears. You already felt your face growing warm the more you suppressed yourself.
“Nuha kosh? Are you alright? Would you like something to drink?” Inanna is now starting to fret around you.
That’s right. You were their champion. This is no way a champion acts in front of those who revere them.
A deep breath was needed before you apologized. “Sorry. It’s just all so shocking. War in Westeros. My gods. I hope Queen Rhaella and her children are okay. They have to still be at Dragonstone. King’s Landing is too dangerous right now.”
Another gloom hovered over Barristan and Tyrion. You were to learn that so much had happened in the year you had been dead. None of it was good.
With a bit of smugness in his voice, Jaime leans back in his chair and smiles. “Well, looks like it was good I got you out when I did.”
Smiling briefly, his lips twitch down into a hurt frown. “Why didn’t you take me with you?”
“Oh Tyrion.” Softness that he had only ever used with you touches his tone. “We didn’t plan it. That fire. . . (y/n) was lucky I was patrolling when I was. It was by pure luck I was out that night and happened to see smoke in the air.”
Blushing, Tyrion flicks his eyes down. “O-Of course. I’m sorry. It’s just been very hard without either of you. I’m so happy though that (y/n) is alive.” His beaming face returns when he regards you. Your heart melts in the best possible way and you find yourself reaching over to him and embracing him once more. Tyrion eagerly returned the favor. Despite the heartache you continued to feel burrowing inside of you, there was still warmth when you looked at Tyrion. He had found you. What a blessing that truly was.
“Ser Barristan.” Benerro politely addresses the knight; Selmy straightens his back a little more. “You say that you were sent by a spider to deliver something to nuha kosh.”
He nods and without much hesitation, places the small chest on the table in which they were congregated around. Blue eyes that seemed to hold a type of sadness to them settle on you. “The Spider says this was given to him by Thalina. It was her last wish that if anything were to happen to her, this would be delivered safely to you.”
Gingerly your fingers run along the rounded top. You turn to look at Rhiannon behind your shoulder. She stood rigidly but met your gaze. You beckon her forward. Thalina was her blood sister. As far as you knew, this was the only item of Thalina’s left in existence. Something of great importance that she entrusted to someone like Varys. It seems you didn’t really know Thalina at all.
“No one has been able to open it.” your younger brother tells you with a bit of frustration. “There’s not even a lock!”
Laughter bursts out of Rhiannon that makes everyone jump. “Skoros iā krubōñe (What an imp!)" Her eyes were shining with joy and melancholy all at once. Placing both palms on the chest, Rhiannon composes herself. “It’s a puzzle box. Thalina loved puzzles.”
Tyrion leaned in, incredibly interested. “A puzzle?” Using a new perspective, Tyrion wanted to take another crack at it. You knew how his brain was working relentlessly on how to solve it.
Rhiannon’s honey sweet eyes lift. “With your permission, nuha kosh, I believe I can solve it by tomorrow.”
“Take as long as you like, Rhiannon.” you smile at her. Before leaving, she bows with Thalina’s puzzle held securely against her chest.
Hesitantly Tyrion holds onto your arm. “I know we just reunited, but that box has been killing me. I must know how it’s solved!”
You chuckle and caress Tyrion’s head. “Go. We’ll have plenty of time to spend later.”
Grinning from ear to ear, Tyrion catches up with Rhiannon. As he left it didn’t go unnoticed by you that a few people had stared after him. Maybe it was their first time seeing a dwarf.
“If I could make a request?”
“Of course nuha kosh.” Benerro smiles and gets down on his knees. “Anything.”
You make sure everyone is paying attention. This wasn’t a request just for the High Priest. “As you can see, my brother is a dwarf. I request that as long as he is here, no one is to stare at him. Not like he’s some anomaly.”
Those who had been staring at your brother prior, bashfully lower their heads.
“You all heard her.” Weles snaps at everyone. “Whatever nuha kosh says will be upheld.” Priests nodded while priestesses pressed their lips together with uncertainty. They would obey.
Nuahlin who had been quiet the entire time finally stands with the help of Siofra and Chetna the Fiery Hand with short blond hair close to her scalp. Weles helps make way for Nuahlin to stand next to him.
“Ser Barristan, it’s an honor to meet another renowned knight of Westeros. I am Nuahlin. I must voice my concern about you knowing (y/n)’s location. He is at war with his son. (y/n)’s former husband. I hope you will be discreet in your explanation of your absence and not mention her or Volantis.
“The secret is safe with me.” You and Selmy had never really interacted. The need never called for it. From what Rhaegar told you, he seemed like a man you could trust. Even with that thought lingering in the back of your head, you were still cautious around unfamiliar people. He was still a knight under employment of King Aerys. He was unconsciously working against Rhaegar. “All I ask in return is to have a few private words with Jaime Lannister.”
Jaime’s jaw tenses for a moment despite his easy going smile. The school of priests turn to one another and confer in barely audible whispers. Benerro briefly listens to what Nuahlin says in his ear before nodding. He gives his consent and has the room cleared. Including yourself as you were the last to exit the room. The air between them had abruptly turned icy.
Benerro closes the door, blocking your intrusive gaze. “Best to keep the storm contained in there. I’m sure your brother will be fine.”
You nod. “This is a matter between Kingsguard brothers.”
The two of you walk together back to the central court where the others had filtered out into. Hayri and Iomhar were speaking with Nuahlin when Benerro slowly broke away from you to join them. Hands blocked the hall where the council chamber was. Of course they would keep a close eye on Barristan.
“Nuha kosh.” Sirvart beats Vidarr to you. She briefly sticks her tongue out at him before turning her head back to you. “You didn’t look so good in there. Is your wound bothering you?”
“No, it’s fine.” It was a partial lie. While it didn’t ache like it once did, you still felt the soreness. Especially when you collided with Tyrion. His arms had been squeezing tightly around your torso, pressing firmly against your wound that had barely finished healing.
Worried about Jaime, you linger around while staring at the blocked corridor. Technically Jaime had committed high treason by abandoning his post. Knights that abandon the king are known to be either exiled or executed. You didn’t know Barristan well enough to guess what his actions would be. He could go back to Westeros and tell Aerys everything.
“Would you like me to keep him here?”
Weles is next to you, formal and alert as always. Up close you could see the faint yellow and orange tattoos on his cheeks, right below his dark eyes. His skin tone made them hard to see from a distance. “What?”
“You’re worried about that knight. I can have him escorted and kept in a room if you so desire.”
“It would not be such a bad idea.” Vidarr agrees with a small nod of his head.
You purse your lips. “Even if he tells Aerys. . . why would the king care that I’m still alive? And we all know that there has yet to be an assassin to accomplish his job. There’s no need to treat him as a prisoner.”
“Speaking of prisoners, have you learned anything useful from the darkin?” asks Sirvart. “You go to the dungeons often.”
“I want to know who he is as a person. After all, I thought darkins had been just a fairytale.”
The loud creaking of century old hinges groan and those who had been dawdling are now at the ready. Heavy boots thud against the ground.
Jaime’s voice gradually grows louder “You have to at least say goodbye to Tyrion. The two of you have spent much time together. What’s one more night?”
Barristan clears his throat. “Very well.” when he realizes he is coming into view of peeping eyes, he lowers his tone. “If they will allow me to sleep safely under their roof.”
“But of course.” Benerro sweeps across the room. “If nuha kosh says you are trustworthy then that is all we need.”
For the first time, Barristan locks eyes with you. Back in Westeros you had never been this important. Even if you were married to Rhaegar and would one day become his queen, many had the tendency to ignore your presence. They would only address Rhaegar. You were just a decoration. Here though, your word was law. The Red Temple was your castle and you were the queen. Far better than a queen, you were something much better.
Warmth radiates against your thigh and you remember Lightbringer strapped to your hip. Rhaegar’s little mouse was no more.
“Please treat Ser Barristan with the utmost respect.” You tell the armed men behind you. “Rest. You have another long journey back. Inanna.”
She perks right up and despite her small size, she pushes her way through to get to you. “Yes nuha kosh?”
“Can I trust you to take Ser Barristan to a proper room? Take Ilta and Haakon with you.” They were two hands that you knew would be polite to the knight while still be on guard. The others you knew would not take kindly to yet another potentially dangerous stranger under their roof so close to you.
Taglist:
@boywivlove
@esposadomd
@domoron
@yentroucnagol
@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan
@bregarc
#reader insert#reader insert fanfiction#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones fanfic#asoiaf fanfiction#game of thrones#asoiaf fanfic#asoiaf fandom#a song of ice and fire fanfiction#a song of ice and fire fanfic#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones reader insert#asoiaf reader insert#asoiaf fic#a song of ice and fire x you#a song of ice and fire x reader#got fandom#got fanfic#got reader insert#got fanfiction
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Jaime for @choicescocappreciationweek 💖
Day 6: Wishful Thinking
#playchoices#choices#choices fanart#choices: stories you play#jaime lewis#jaime x mc#wishful thinking#choicescocaw#My art
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Pets
Jaime x MC
A/N: Quick ficlet for day 3 of @choicesmonthlychallenge
...
Jaime lifts the diet cat food to his nose, taking a whiff. His nose scrunches in distaste. That is absolutely foul.
He’s schooled his expression into a pleasant smile before he places the bowl to the floor in front of Jinx. “Mmm!” He exclaims.
Jinx sniffs the food, and then gives him a look.
“Don’t look at me like that. This stuff is good for you!” Jaime insists.
Jinx’s unimpressed stare only intensifies.
“The vet says you need to lose ten pounds.” Jaime counters. Jinx glares at him. Jaime turns to Lydia, who’s enjoying her morning coffee at their kitchen table. “What is she thinking?”
“You don’t want to know.” Lydia replies.
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It's missing Jaime Lewis hours, folks. ❤
#choices#playchoices#jaime lewis#jaime lewis x mc#jaime x mc#choices wishful thinking#wishful thinking#choices wt#wt#wt jaime#wishful thinking jaime#i miss him =(#replaying WT reminds me of how much I do
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