#marble eyed dragon

[princessbellecerise]

Pregnancy Headcanons

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | How the House of the Dragon characters would react before, during and after your pregnancy

warnings | Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth

this is a work of fiction. i do not own these characters

divider by @princessbellecerise

Jacaerys Velaryon

Finding Out

Jacaerys has the audacity to look shocked when the Maester tells him that you’re pregnant, like the two of you haven’t been fucking like rabbits ever since you got married

No seriously—he literally freezes and just kind of…stares with an unreadable expression on his face

Just sort of wide-eyed, in shock before he finally snaps out of it and briskly walks away without another word

He’s not really sure what to do, or how to react to be honest. And it might take a few days for him to come around, but he will eventually

Bonus: Rhaenyra sees his reaction and she’s like Jacaerys, what did you expect?

And he’s like: Not this

And then she’s like: Well did you pull out? Ask for moon tea? Something??

And Jace is just like staring at her like: No? Why would I do that?

Like boy what did you expect when you literally nut inside your wife every single time

During Pregnancy

Once he does come around though, Jacaerys will be so protective. I’m talking like he barely let you out of his sight, and makes sure that everyone knows you’re pregnant

Like they can’t already tell, he’ll constantly tell people that you’re carrying his heir and that they need to be careful with you

Even the Maesters who literally know what they’re doing get a scolding by the future king if he thinks they’re being too rough

No one is allowed to get too close to you and if they do, Jace will always have one hand on his sword just in case he needs to defend you

He will even better himself at sword fighting, pushing himself to the limits during the hours that he’s not with you so that he can always be prepared

For Jacaerys, you being pregnant is sort of like a wake-up call for him, a chance for him to finally rise to his responsibilities and become a bit more serious

He understands the weight of being king now and for Jace, he’ll want to put away all childish things so that he could become the man you and your child need

Giving Birth

Oh my god he’s so supportive

I’m talking like this is a man that will get behind you and physically hold you while you push

Despite what anyone says, he will be there for the birth of his child and he will be so soothing

Holding you, kissing you, kissing your neck to calm you down, taking the cloth from the Maester and wiping the sweat off of your forehead

Jacaerys’ support of you never ends and he’s constantly telling you how proud of you he is even while you’re screaming your lungs out

He’ll help you breathe and let you squeeze his hand till you break it if that’s what you so desire

Calling you his brave girl and letting out teary laughter when your baby is finally delivered

After Birth

When your child is born, it’s like fatherhood is something Jacaerys is born for

He’s a natural; knowing exactly what to say and how to raise your children even if you are still figuring it out

Seriously, it’s like he has a cheat code or something

If the two of you have a boy, then Jace won’t hesitate to start grooming him to be king and unlike most father’s, he is very involved in his son’s upbringing

Jacaerys will be the one to teach him how to hold a sword, how to ride a horse and a dragon. Jace will be there for his son every step of the way no matter how improper it may seem

Likewise, if he has a daughter, he will be entirely overprotective

If you thought it was bad when she was in the womb, just wait until Jace takes one look at his baby girl

Suddenly, he’s terrified to let her out of his sight; sometimes even holding her on his knee during council meetings. She likes to play with the marble and Jace tries so hard to keep a straight face while also wrestling it out of her hands

Everyone at the meeting will try and pretend like they don’t hear her babbling and like it’s not the cutest thing ever while they’re talking about literal war

Overall, Jace would be prepared to defend you and your children to the death if need be, and he would be such a stern but loving dad

Lucerys Velaryon

Finding Out

Luke doesn’t even notice that you haven’t gotten your moon blood for several months and neither do you, until one day a servant happens to say something and you’re both like: oh shit

Since you both are still quite young you’re not really supposed to be having heirs at the moment. Like Rhaenyra specifically told this boy to not get you pregnant just yet and now he’s terrified of telling her

So yeah, it was an accident and Luke is so nervous he’s literally shaking when the Maester confirms it

But sweet boy, he will do his very best to remain calm and will put on a brave face for you

He’ll act like he’s not scared as well at the prospect of having children so young but on the inside he’s freaking out. He’ll hold your hand tightly and give you kisses to calm you down, keeping his voice from shaking to seem brave

During Pregnancy

Even though it’s a little too soon for the both of you to become parents, Luke will slowly become excited at the prospect of becoming a father

Like he’s so proud, growing to love his child before you’re even four months along

He decides right then and there that he’ll do anything to protect you and his child and swears that no harm will ever come to either of you

While you’re pregnant, Luke will take on every single responsibility so that you won’t be stressed out. He always has you relaxing and content while he deals with all of the hard stuff

And yeah, over the course of the months he will find himself growing up a little

Maybe a little bit too fast, much his mother’s sadness, but Rhaenyra can’t help but love the look of pride of Luke’s face every time he touches your belly. And neither can you

You love when Luke rubs your son or daughter and you especially love when he blows raspberries on your stomach, giggling every time while he coos to the baby or talks to them in High Valerian

It’s a such a sweet moment to witness and many people, sometimes even Daemon, catch themselves smiling or smirking at you and the young prince

Giving Birth

Okay, so Lucerys is now back to being scared shitless

It all started on the day you delivered your child, with Luke sweating and pacing outside of your room while the Maesters attended to you

Your screams severely upset him and he kept pacing back and forth in the hallway, peeking in the room and desperately trying to get a glimpse of you before the Maesters pushed him out

He wants to be there for you so bad, especially since it’s your first pregnancy and you’re crying your eyes out for him

Eventually, he’ll just have to say damn it and force his way in, gathering his courage for his wife. And even though the Maesters tell him that it’s highly improper, he’ll ignore them and will hold your hand the entire way

Whispering sweet praises in your ear and stroking your back while Rhaenyra or your own mother loudly encourages you

He’ll be so worried up until the moment he hears that first cry, and that’s when everything just melts away for Luke and all he can feel is happiness when the Maester hands you your child

After Birth

After your child is born, you and Luke are the absolute best parents

You’re both soft and gentle with your baby, and you’re glowing in a way that Luke just absolutely loves

Both of you have immense pride for your son or daughter and you fall in love immediately despite not even knowing if you were ready yet

You just…jump in and honestly it’s not so bad for you and Luke once your bundle of joy finally gets there

Lucerys especially is thrilled, winning the best dad award for always playing with your child or making up silly games to make them laugh

You love watching him interact with your baby because he’s just so good at it and he doesn’t even realize it

Sometimes, he’ll confess his insecurities that he might not do a good job at raising your kid and you literally have to be like: hold up. Luke you’re doing amazing already

He’d be scared and terrified on where this new adventure would lead but honestly, Lucerys has never been happier and in the end it would all work out

Also, he totally gets so excited when you let him pick out an egg for the baby, just like he did for his brothers

It’s almost like it’s tradition, and every single time Luke knows exactly the right one to choose

Aemond Targaryen

Finding Out

If you’re nervous to tell Aemond, then don’t be

Nine times out of ten he’s so perceptive that he’ll put it together himself and Aemond will be over the moon

He will not stop smiling the entire time the Maesters confirm it, pressing a hand to your stomach and kissing your belly

His reaction kind of throws you off a little bit because you’ve never seen him so excited in his life, but he reassures you that he’s been waiting so long for this moment and now he’s just ecstatic that it’s finally here

During Pregnancy

While you’re pregnant, Aemond hardly ever lets you leave your bed chambers. Nor does he let anyone other than your family or Maesters near you

He’s just so protective and he’s paranoid that something’s going to happen so he wants you to be safe at all costs

He definitely does his own research because it’s not like he distrusts the Maester’s, he just wants to be sure that he knows what they know and more about childbirth in case he has to step in

God forbid your baby won’t come or is stuck upside down—two common themes for Targaryen children. Aemond reads all about it so that he knows different ways of getting the baby out or repositioning it without hurting you

He’ll also read about different birth techniques and decides to teach you to make your labor easier

Making you drink raspberry tea, take walks or stretch to lesson your pain when the time comes

You have to admit, you’re a bit shocked when your husband comes to you and makes you start doing breathing exercises with him

After all, who would have thought Aemond of all people would be so involved and so devoted?

It definitely warms your heart to see though—and no matter how much you want to wave him, you always end up letting him help you because you trust your husband you know more than anything he has yours and your child’s best interests at heart

Giving Birth

Aemond will respect your privacy and will wait outside during your labors, but you better believe he’ll be right there

Listening to every scream and every detail just in case he feels the need to step in

If you really want him to be there, he absolutely will be in a heartbeat. And if anybody tries to stop him he’ll venomously tell them to get out of his way before pushing them aside

As much as he loves his incoming child, majority of Aemond’s focus will be on you and your safety

He’ll make sure everything is going smoothly before he even thinks about celebrating and only then will he finally start to smile, a grin like no other taking over his face when your baby is finally placed in his arms

After Birth

Aemond is a caring yet trusting father

He knows that if his child came from you, they’ll already grow up to be exceptional so he allows them to grow into their own person

He doesn’t hover, but he does care. A lot

He may not show it in every way but if your child wants his attention, they’ve got it. If they want to play with him, he absolutely will. If they want to be comforted? He’s there. They tell him they want some space? Then Aemond is in the next room over, ready to talk when they are

In a way, your children are way for Aemond to heal his own self. To be there as a parent like his never were

Early on, Aemond already swore to you and your babe that he would never abandon you or ignore you when you needed him most

He swore to break the curse his parents placed on him so he is very involved with his kids

He’s also very protective, especially considering what he went through in his childhood. He never wants his child to feel left out so Aemond will go searching for a dragon egg pretty early on

You better believe that thing is burning HOT until the moment it’s ready to be placed in your child’s cradle

And Aemond swears

He swears by the old gods and the new that if they allow his child to have their own dragon he would never commit another sin again, if that’s what it took

And sure enough, Aemond is beyond relieved when your babies egg hatches—the widest grin ever overtaking his face as the baby dragon prances about

You swear—you sometimes joke that it was Aemond’s fiery gaze on the egg that hatched it and not nature

And while that very well may be true, Aemond is just grateful nevertheless that even if he wasn’t delt the best cards, he sure would find a way to rig the game for his children

Anything just to make them happy

Daemon Targaryen

Finding Out

You wish you could say that after having two children of his own, your husband would recognize the signs of pregnancy

But unfortunately Daemon is not a man that concerns himself with that kind of stuff so it’s the Maester that points it out to him

And at first, Daemon is stunned

Like okay—he knows that he never pulls out and that the two of you go multiple rounds a day but pregnant?

He thought that your tits getting bigger was just, well, a huge blessing for him

He can hardly believe his ears or that he’s going to have more children

Briefly, he jokes that he may as well start breeding his own army which causes you to punch his arm

Joke aside though, Daemon is really happy and he will shower you with kisses, laughing slightly at how his seed must be extra strong to stick so fast

During Pregnancy

Daemon is not really much help himself, expect for when it comes to massages or warm baths

Almost every night, to ease your discomfort, your Lord husband will bathe you which is oddly intimate for him, or he will massage your feet and shoulders to soothe some of the pain

Of course, your other activities will remain as well which helps a little the closer you get to birth

Mostly, Daemon will be ordering Maesters around or just simply asking you of your progress from time to time

He really hopes for a boy secretly, and sometimes while you’re sleeping or just barely awake, he will rub your stomach and whisper sweet phrases in High Valerian

Expect Daemon to also already have the names of his children picked out, boy or girl

He might even ask Baela or Rhaena their opinion and let them choose an egg from Caraxes

If he has to be somewhere else where he cannot physically look after you, he’ll also entrust his daughters to keep them informed and up to date on your condition

Giving Birth

Daemon is outside, on the balcony while your screams reach his ears

Truth be told, it’s too much. He can’t be there as much he wants to be—as much as you surely need him to be

After witnessing Laena’s death, childbirth has become quite traumatizing for Daemon so he prefers to remain outside, waiting until a Maester or one of his daughters come to fetch him

Of course, Baela—ever her father’s daughter—scolds Daemon a bit and reminds him that every lady wife needs her husband during such times

But Daemon will not budge, not until Rhaena comes to the balcony with an unreadable expression on her face

At first, Daemon is terrified. He stands, the breath freezing in his lungs as he tries to decipher what that might mean. Your screams had died down…perhaps…

Daemon stands, his heart clenching in chest as he begins to possibly grapple with another untimely death of the one he loved. He prepares himself, but then a wide smile grows on Rhaena’s face and Daemon knows all is well

“My sibling is here. It is healthy, father.”

That’s all Daemon needs. And suddenly, he’s tearing himself away and down the halls, straight to your room where he walks in on the sight of your smiling face and the glowing cheeks of his newborn child

After Birth

You like to give Daemon the benefit of the doubt and say that he spends an equal amount of time with his children

Of course, maybe a little bit more attention towards the baby since he or she does need Daemon more than his adolescent children, but as your child grows up pretty much everything is the same

Baela and Rhaena absolutely adore their new sibling and vice versa. They may be a bit older but you’ll always find the three of them playing together or one of the girls reading them a bed time story

It always warms your heart to see them bond, and Daemon’s too

Though he’ll never admit it, his favorite thing to do is spy on his children and eavesdrop as the girls help the youngest with their Valerian

Or when the three of them are together, somehow still fitting on his lap and Daemon teaches them the history of their house while you sit in the background, smiling

It’s special moments like those that remind you that while you may have married a morally grey man, his number one priority would always be his family

And you know more than anyone that with Daemon around, the five of you would never have anything to fear

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #hotd x reader #hotd fluff #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd

[xdead-writers-societyx]

Sȳz Riña

Synopsis: When your two dragons catch you dancing with another Lord, it's safe to say neither is best pleased. Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader x Rhaenyra Targaryen

Warnings: General HoTD shenanigans such as sexual themes-oral, penetration, spanking, threesome- incest, vulgar language, and the sort so please if any such things make you uncomfortable or if you're underage do not engage with this post or I will feed you to my dragon!

1,955 words

A/N: I'm just so down bad for these two I couldn't help it, I'm sorry!

With your hand clasping tightly to the skirts of your dress you danced around the room in circles laughing politely with your partner, some Lannister Lord or another whose name you couldn’t really recall holding happily onto his hand while he spun you merrily around the marbled floor. Glancing towards the royal table you caught the gaze of your blatantly bored older sister from where she was perched beside the King, that was until your eyes drifted across instead capturing those of a dragon.

A fire was ablaze behind Daemon Targaryen’s violet eyes as he watched you floating across the floor with your hand entwined with another mans. Casting a glance to his side he saw his wife with a similar fire simmering behind her own as she tightly gripped her goblet taking a rather large drink of the sweet wine in an attempt to smother her own fire.

Having noticed them staring you smirked amused at the sight of your two dragons teetering on the verge of burning Kings Landing to the ground so you turned now wrapping your arm around the neck of the young Lord pressing yourself against him to whisper in his ear, “This has been lovely though I’m afraid I must cut our dance short my Lord.”

Before there was any chance of a reply a large hand was wrapped firmly around your wrist spinning you until you were faced with the leather-clad chest of Daemon. Your nameless Lord excused himself as the Rogue Prince’s wrathful glare bore down upon him, “Rhaenyra is quite tired, and it appears that you have had more than enough to drink Dōna Riña. We shall be retiring to our chambers for the night.” His voice was no more than a harsh whisper against your ear as the heat of his breath upon your face ignited something deep in your stomach. (Sweet Girl)

Staring up at him wide-eyed and pleading a sorrowful pout pulled at your lips, “But I’m having such a nice time with Lord Lannister, Ñuha Dārilaros.” Your voice dropped to a sultry purr at the end of your sentence knowing very well the effect your use of his ancestorial language had on the man. (My Prince)

His hand moved quick as a whip from your wrist to grasp the nape of your neck roughly yanking you closer to his strong body forcing you to face him, “Do not make me take you here in front of all these people.” Leaning down he pressed a searing kiss upon the shell of your ear before continuing, “We both know that I would do so with no quarrels.”

This pulled a whine from your parted lips knowing that he was being completely truthful and would gladly follow through on his threat, so you nodded. Seemingly satisfied with your submission he took a hold of your hand using it to lead you through the crowd of dancing bodies, into the halls of the Red Keep and all the way back to the chambers you were occupying where Rhaenyra was already awaiting the two of you.

Upon entry your eyes widened as you stared shamelessly at Rhaenyra whose bare body was proudly on display lounging across the bed her ringed fingers gently smoothing over the silken sheets. Your already hazy mind drifted even further at the sight of her unceremoniously dropping Daemons hand your steps quickening in your rush to launch yourself above her lips immediately seeking out her own.

She laughed softly at your antics before reciprocating your affections her soft pink lips now moving in tandem with your own, moaning against her you made a move to deepen the kiss only for her warm hands to take hold of your cheeks lifting your face so you could see each other, “I thought mayhap you would rather accompany Lord Lannister to his chambers tonight, Ñuha Jorrāelagon.” Despite her gentle tone, you could still see the poorly concealed embers simmering deep inside of her. (My Love)

Suddenly a pair of rough hands were lifting you from your position atop the Princess instead having you stand upon the cold stone floor of your chambers, “I have half a mind to go back out there and take that Lannister cunts head for the audacity to touch what is ours.” Daemons voice was firm with no hint of a jest in his voice as he spoke, his fingers expertly working to loosen the ties of your dress, “Don’t think you will not be paying for the fun you had yourself tonight.”

Due to the fact that he couldn’t possibly see your face you dared to roll your eyes at the overly possessive Prince, “I hardly think that I did anything wrong with a simple dance.” You drawled while accepting Rhaenyra’s offered hand as you stepped from the dress that now pooled around your feet, “You’d think I was on my knees sucking his cock for all to see with the way you are acting, Ñuha Dārilaros.” (My Prince)

No sooner had the words left your mouth did a soft yelp escape as Daemons hand harshly connected with the delicate flesh of your backside though it was promptly soothed by the soft hands of Rhaenyra, “The way his gaze never faltered from those marvellous tits of yours,” Daemons voice was deep with a mixture of anger and lust as his hand slithered up your body his fingers pinching cruelly at your pert nipple, “That is precisely what that cunt was thinking.”

Head shaking you decided to instead look down upon Rhaenyra your hands running smoothly over her shoulders as hers remained grasping the red flesh of your rear, “Please Nyra, speak sense to your husband.” Earning yourself yet another hard slap you huffed in feigned annoyance, “It was merely a dance, Ñuha Dāria.” (My Queen)

A contemplative noise left her as her hands ran around your body rubbing at the softness of your pillowy thighs while she slowly parted them from her seated position on the bed, “Mayhap our Sweet Girl is right, Valzȳrys.” Rhaenyra’s carnal stare held you captive as she moved to feather open mouthed kisses over your mound completely avoiding where you needed her the most, “It was after all merely a dance.” (Husband)

A jovial grin spread across your pretty face at her words your hand weaving itself through the bright tresses desperately urging her closer till she happily darted her wet tongue out to tease over your needy clit.

Palms still full of your heaving breasts Daemon removed his face from where it had been nestled into your neck delivering a series of delicious kisses and dizzying bites, “You are too quick to give into her every demand, Ābrazȳrys.” Despite his chiding words he easily manoeuvred you from the warmth of Rhaenyra’s mouth before carefully tossing you into the centre of the large bed. (Wife)

Finding himself as the only one remaining clothed you watched with heavy breaths as Daemon started slowly removing his garments starting firstly with Dark Sister which was hanging comfortably from his lithe hips, “Nyra..” Whining pleadingly for her she smirked crawling over to you till she lay with an elbow propping her up greedily taking your hard nipple into her mouth.

“Spread your legs.” Before you even had the chance to comprehend the command your legs had fallen open of their own volition as Daemon loomed above you his leaking cock heavy in his hand, stroking it as his sinful eyes never wavered from the attack Rhaenyra was laying upon your tits, “There’s our Good Girl.”

“Sȳz Riña.” Rhaenyra purred her agreement as she removed herself from you swinging her leg over your body and positioning herself to straddle your chest while her hands lovingly caressed your heated face. (Good Girl)

The intrusion of Daemon's finger entering you had your eyes widening and a wanton moan clawing from deep inside you, “I’m going to fuck you.” He spoke clearly his chin sitting atop Rhaenyra’s shoulder allowing him to stare down at your flushed face for any sign of discomfort as he added another finger beginning to thrust them slowly into your sopping hole, “And you are going to make Nyra cum on your tongue before you even think about cumming. Do you understand, Dōna Riña?” (Sweet Girl)

Nodding your head frantically your hands gripped Rhaenyra’s plush thighs in an attempt to pull her closer to your mouth, “I understand, Ñuha Dārilaros.” Grunting his approval Daemon disappeared from your sight moments before he was thrusting his hard cock deep inside your tight hole, “Fuck..” Taking this as her cue Rhaenyra turned herself around before lowering herself softly onto your face her hands fondling with your tits willingly taking everything that you had to offer her.

Tossing herself forward in her throes of pleasure Rhaenyra’s hips worked hard as she ground herself energetically against your skilled tongue that worked fervently to bring forth her release, her own tongue tangled against that of her husband the pair sharing a passionate kiss full of love and lust while Daemons thick cock was fucking into you at a brutal pace leading you to a fast-approaching high.

“Don’t stop Sweet Girl, you’re doing so well!” Moaning noisily Rhaenyra’s damp forehead pressed upon her husband’s strong shoulder as pleasure slowly overtook her, “Fuck, right there!” Removing a hand from her thigh you coated two fingers in her wetness before pushing them into her quivering hole which is all it took for the dam to break her sinful cries echoing throughout the room while you fucked her gently through her high.

Rhaenyra’s limp body collapsed beside you her head resting comfortably on your still-heaving chest her hand snaking to join her husband’s cock as his thrust became harder his hand moving to apply pressure to the delicate column of your throat, “Such a fucking Good Girl making her Queen cum so hard.” Keening happily at his praise you clenched around him as Rhaenyra’s expert fingers worked circles against your throbbing clit, “Fuck! I shall fill your pretty cunt full of my dragonseed.” Groaning as you gripped him tighter his body lowered capturing your lips in a searing kiss being sure to do the same to his wife as her ministrations against you sped up, “Would Īlva Sȳz Riña like that?” (Our Good Girl)

“Please..” Whimpering your hand tugged harshly against his silver locks the merciless pounding of his cock driving you impossibly closer to the edge of your high, “I want it all. Kostilus, Ñuha Dārilaros.” Your breathy words seemed to have their desired effect as the muscled body above you tensed a series of vulgar grunts leaving his parted lips as he fucked you full of his cum which was enough to tip you over the edge your tight cunt clenching around him milking every drop until his exhausted body slumped atop you. (Please, My Prince)

Laughing quietly at the sight Rhaenyra removed her hand from between the two of you moving from the bed to clean herself before returning mere minutes later with a damp cloth in hand, “Let her breathe Daemon!” Chastising him she shoved the larger man from you till he lay breathless and panting beside you while she cleaned you carefully aware of how sensitive you were, “That’s much better Dōna Riña.” (Sweet Girl)

Settling herself into your side she scattered mellow kisses all across your blissful face, “If I see that cunt so much as look at you again, I shall take Dark Sister to his head.” Having regained his breath Daemon grumbled earnestly rolling onto his side to kiss your temple his arm laying across your waist positioning you flush against him his hand rubbing patterns into the skin of Rhaenyra’s hip.

#hotd #hotd smut #daemyra #daemyra x reader #daemon x reader #rhaenyra x reader #daemon targaryen #daemyra smut #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon smut #rhaenyra smut #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader smut #daemon targaryen x reader smut #daemrya x reader smut #hightower!reader

[cloudcountry]

the first ice cream cone

SUMMARY: You take Malleus on an ice cream date! Except...something doesn't go as planned.

CHARACTERS: Malleus Draconia

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: I wrote this for a friend, but someone on quotev requested something for Malleus too!! I hope you enjoy it (and I have a baking oneshot in the works too C:)

~~~~~

You’d done some research before taking Malleus out on a date, asking Lilia what he seemed to like the most whenever they went on their outings. Lilia seemed amused at your question, but humored you with a slice of knowledge.

“He loves ice cream. It’s his favorite!” Lilia hummed, sipping on the tomato juice you brought him as a bribe, “Just don’t buy him any cake to go with it—the last time I bought him a cake, he ate the entire thing. He had really bad heartburn and has now sworn off of them.”

Now here you were. Standing outside of a nearby ice cream shop with a terrifyingly strong dragon man on your arm. He didn’t seem like it though, his eyes wide and full of wonder.

“Child of man…” he shook your arm gently, “Is this an ice cream shop?”

“Yes! I was hoping it’d be a good first date idea…I even talked to Lilia to make sure I wouldn’t do anything wrong.” you nodded, proud of your planning.

“It’s wonderful.” a smile flickered across his face, “Shall we?”

You dragged him inside first, insisting on paying with the limited amount of money Crowley had allowed you this week. You’d been saving up for a few weeks just in case, so anything Malleus wanted to try on this date would be his.

“Fascinating.” his stare was owlish as he blinked at the two scoop cones he ordered.

“I was surprised you went for pistachio.” you hummed, leading him to a bench outside.

“I was curious. I’ve never had this flavor before.” he eyed it up before taking a lick.

You watched him eat for a bit before you remembered your own ice cream, still watching him. He never looked this peaceful when he was in school, likely because Sebek and Silver would trail him constantly. You were lucky you could sneak him away for a little bit—there’s no doubt Sebek was probably losing his marbles over Malleus’ disappearance right now.

“Thank you for getting me away for a little while.” he said, placing a hand over yours.

“It’s no problem. You deserve it.” you wrapped your fingers around his hand and squeezed.

He chuckled, but said nothing else. You two enjoyed the ice cream and the quiet bustling of the outside world, without Lilia or Sebek or Silver or Ace or Deuce. Or Grim, actually. Especially Grim.

“Oh.” Malleus huffed, sounding alarmed.

You glanced over, watching as he clutched his head dramatically.

“Is everything okay?” you placed your hand on his back, watching him closely just in case he decided to pass out on you.

“Child of man…I believe I have been poisoned. My head…is collapsing.” he groaned, his grip on his ice cream cone beginning to crush the wafer.

“Are you…are you talking about a brain freeze?” you furrowed your brow, baffled at one of the strongest mages crumpled over at your feet from a little brain freeze.

“What is that? Will my brain turn to ice? I assure you, I am not so weak as to collapse—”

“Malleus.”

“I can handle myself. I shall consult the library as soon as possible so this disease cannot fester.”

“Malleus.”

“Child of man, I thank you for the brief pleasantries we shared before there was an attack on my life.”

“Malleus, listen to me.” you grabbed his arms, pulling him up, “It’s not fatal. A brain freeze is harmless. It’ll be gone in a minute. I promise.”

Malleus halted his dramatic hand movements staring at you in wonder.

“Child of man, your knowledge knows no bounds. I feel better already.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed deeply.

Well, it wouldn’t be Twisted Wonderland if you could go on a normal date.

#auburn's fics <3 #drabbles <3 #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twst x reader #twst x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia fluff

[misguidedasgardian]

The Winter Sun (13)

13. Dragonstone

MASTERLIST

Summary: You travel to the White Harbor and Dragonstone to see your family again

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoiaf customs, AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, SMUT, shenanigans on top of a Dragon, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3,3 k

Notes: uff hope you like this one

Your stay in the White Harbor was brief, very brief, you arrived when the sun was already setting ni the horizon, and it gave you a breathtaking view of the city

The harbor was huge and beautiful, many ships were making port there, Cregan had taught you that New Castle, the seat of the Manderly’s and all the houses around it were built using a strange was rock they found in the shores of the White knIfe, the river, withered by the salt and waves, so it indeed looked like the entire city was white

But the most impressive part of them all had to be the huge wall that surrounded the city, it was the same color and the New Castle, that rested on top of a hill looking at the harbor

It was quite a sight

You landed in a huge patio surrounding the castle, Vhaelar behaved herself spectacularly, letting you and Cregan climb off of her, standing very still, purring even. And when you guessed was Lord Manderly approaching, she didn’t even move

“My Lord and Lady Stark!”, he greeted with open arms, and Cregan smiled widely and went to his embrace, hugging him tightly

“Lord Manderly”, they separated quickly and the old man’s attention falls on you

“My lady Stark, what a sight you are!”, you don’t remember him from your wedding, so you guessed he hadn't attended, he took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles, making you blush

“You flatter me, My Lord”, you whispered. He looked over your shoulder towards Vhaelar

“Fearsome creature!”, he admired, “sometimes I can’t believe they are real”, he laughed, with a sign of his hand he led you both inside

The insight of the castle was as white as the outside, it gave it an ethereal feeling, it seemed like it was midday when in reality the sun was hiding in the horizon

“I’ve taken the liberty to prepare a small meal”, Lord Manderly said, “to receive you”, inside the very hall was a table set to receive you, and you were looking up at the gallery of the main room of the castle wide-eyed, everything was so beautiful, it looked like it was made of marble.

“My Lady, My Lord”, a sweet voice greeted you and you were met with what you guessed was Lady Manderly

“My wife, the Lady Mara”, presented Lord Desmond

“Thank you for having us”, you said with a wide smile, “your home is beautiful, White Harbor is beautiful”, you admired, and by the look of wonder in your face they knew you weren’t lying. You missed the tender look Cregan gifted you

“You are too kind, my lady, I see the tales of your beauty were told short”, she said, “they didn’t do you justice”, you laughed nervously

“Please, let’s be seated, you must be hungry”, the truth is that we were hungry, servants showed up to show you to your seats, you sat right by Cregan’s side, and he grabbed your hand over the table and gave it a gentle squeeze, you smiled at him widely.

“I’ve been told you are on your way to Dragonstone”, Desmond started the conversation

“Yes”, Cregan said, “we are visiting Princess Rhaenyra, my wife’s cousin”, he said

“We are also taking my dragon”, you added, “she will rest in the dragonmount as Winter is at its worst”, you implied

“We will be honored to escort you from Dragonstone in your way back”, he said quickly

“You are too kind Lord Desmond”, said Cregan

“The journey will take two full weeks”, he said

“So we request you departure immediately after we left”, said Cregan, “it will take you two weeks to get to Dragonstone”, you found yourself loving seeing your husband all “lord” and commanding, you bit your lip as you looked at him

“Of course My Lord, it will take me one week to get the ship ready” 

Cregan as he looked at your face of wonder looking at everything you could, promised you would stay a few days on your way back, and you were happy to do so, you had found White Harbor beautiful, and furthermore he had said that here is where the rest of his family lived, his uncle, and his children.

He only held you that night, kissing your shoulder gently, the rooms of Lord Manderly being next door you felt so nervous to do anything.

And early in the morning, you found your dragon resting in the forest in the back of the city, you prepared her as Cregan discussed the last details with Lord Manderly, and then, he climbed on your dragon and you did as well. And you departed White Harbor as quickly as you came.

You couldn’t help but turn around to look at the fai city as you flew South, the views from the air always took your breath away.

“Now, this is our chance”, Cregan whispered in your ear, hugging you and taped you to your side

“Cregan”, you giggled, holding into your reigns

“You looked so beautiful yesterday”, he whispered, “all cute, nervous, my little lady wife”, he purred, creating goosebumps in your arms

“And you looked so handsome”, you whined needily, as his hand sneaked down the front of your riding pants, “all bossy, and commanding”, you mocked, he kissed you under your ear, and then he kissed down your neck

“What happened with “no funny business on top of my dragon?” my lady?”, he asked mockingly 

“Fuck that… mmm”, you moaned when his fingers found you wet and ready for him

And your husband stuffed you with his fingers all the ride south to Dragonstone

And you landed in Dragonstone in the afternoon, you planted your feet in your family’s ancestral home, in your riding gear, your hair braided like a Targaryen, but with your beautiful white cape, symbolizing house Stark, and Cregan right by your side

You were greeted by a group of soldiers, and Vhaelar roared but took to the skies again to fly over the Dragonmount.

“This is truly breathtaking”, whispered Cregan, as he placed his big hand on your lower back and guided you, you flinched as you walked, your sore pussy bothering you, and he chuckled darkly.

“See that is the dragonmount, possibly the most dangerous place in the seven Kingdoms, there lies dragons, wild and bonded alike”, you told him.

The guards led you through a long stone bridge, that is was as much dangerous as gorgeous 

Cregan looked everywhere wide eyed, and you smiled widely, grabbing his hand

It was a long and silent walk towards the castle, and soon, the great doors were opening in front of you. 

This led directly to the main hall

“Lord Cregan of House Stark and his Lady wife, princess (Y/N) of House Targaryen, Lords of Winterfell, and Wardens of the North”, presented a white cape, and soon the doors opened and show you both to the room filled with Rhaenyra’s family

“Cousin!”, she greeted, even though she had never greeted with such a wide smile before

“Cousin!”, you greeted back, and you received a somewhat warm welcome with smiled and hugs

“I see marriage has treated you well”, Daemon’s voice made you shake where you stood

“It has”, you said sincerely, and he looked you up and down and smirked, you didn’t even know what it meant, but he seemed pleased.

You now were greeted by your nephews, they had grown more in this two years, they were young men now

“I am pleased to receive you both here” Princess Rhaenyra said as Baela hugged you

“You are too kind, Princess Rhaenyra”, said Cregan, “it is an honor to be in the ancestral home of house Targaryen” 

“We were surprised to read your letter”, said Daemon, “is there something you wanted to tell us?”, he asked, and you and Cregan exchanged looks

“We request a private audience with Princess Rhaenyra, and Prince Daemon”, said Cregan, and Daemon only nodded

It was not accustomed to talk business within the first day of one’s arrival, but, this was kind of important 

Everyone, Daemon’s daughters and Rhaenyra’s children left the room, leaving you with her, Daemon and Cregan

“We have come here because we have something to tell you”, said Cregan, and he looked at you, he found fear in your eyes, he knew how fearful Aemond made you.

“What is it?”, she asked gently

“Speak!”, demanded Daemon

“Aemond Targaryen had threatened my wife”, said Cregan

“I took care of him”, said Daemon, “I told the fucker that if he ever bothered you again…”

“His threat included something in the likes of treason”, explained Cregan

“He spoke of treason?”, asked Rhaenyra

“I know this might sound like nothing”, you said with a broken voice, “but he said, and these were his exact words, “When my brother is King he will annul your marriage and I will come for you "", you repeated exactly as he said it.

You saw Rhaenyra shared concerned looks with Daemon

“When my brother is King?”, she repeated

“We wouldn’t have come all this way if we didn’t think this was serious”, said Cregan, “those are the words he threatened my wife with, and it makes me believe not only he is unhinged and the very life and comfort of my wife is in danger but, that he speaks of the highest treason”, he said seriously

“It makes me believe the Hightowers will betray you and take your throne”, you said with certainty, “they have faithful friends in the royal council, they have the means and the desire to do so, cousin”, you said, “I’ve lived with them” 

“We thank you, for coming all this way to speak these words”, said Daemon, “we will not take them lightly”

“My father bend the knee to you, Princess, he swore allegiance to you as heir, our word is not to be taken lightly, is part of our oath to report anything we might perceive as treason”, he said firmly

“And for that we thank you” , she said with a shy smile, “you are welcome here to stay as long as you need too”, she took your hands in hers, “Aemond will never come close to you again”, she whispered, “not If I can help it, I’ll see to it”

“Thank you cousin”, you whispered, and she smiled softly as you

“Now that the worst is over, let’s drink and feast for the god’s sake!”, laughed Daemon, placing his hands on Cregan’s shoulders, and he smiled, “I have questions for you boy”

This welcome truly surprised you, they treated you as one of their own and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was because they wanted your allegiance, of because they truly saw in you a member of her family

Perhaps a mixture of both

Perhaps they didn’t received much visits here in Dragonstone, and they were bored

Perhaps a mixture of those three things

A feast was arranged pretty quickly, and soon when the sun hid under the horizon you were drinking and eating with your family. Jace and Luke seemed particularly chatty, and Jofrrey had gotten so big, and Aegon and Viserys were so cute and small.

The good thing is that you did start to feel at home here, surrounded by your family.

Jace was seated right beside you and asked you a lot of questions, which was surprising, he asked if you liked the North, and if you were comfortable, and you found yourself smiling at him and said you were.

He seemed pleased by your answers so he nodded, drinking from his cup

“What about you Jace? have you been practicing with the sword?”

“Oh yes, and also hIgh Valyrian”

“Gaomagon ao vaoresagon īlon ȳdragon Valyrio Eglie?”, [Do you prefer we speak in High Valyrian?”

“Iksan zūgagon ñuha Valyrio Eglie iksis daor hae sȳz hae aōhon”, [i'm afraid my high valyrian is not as good as yours], he said a little but rough, but it was pretty good

“Ao jiōragon konīr”, [you’ll get there], you assured him, and he smiled at you, you turned to Cregan and realized he was getting grilled by Daemon, who was whispering in his ear while his arm was over his shoulders bringing him closer

“You married my niece without any man there to gave her away”, he threatened, both were a little drunk by now

“It was Princess Rhaenys”, he answered, truly concerned for his accusations, “she gave her away, didn’t she, my dear?”, he asked looking at you, and you, amused, nodded

“She was there, my lovely drunk husband”, you giggled, and he smiled dreamily at you, he leaned in and kissed you gently and shortly, and then he turned towards Daemon, who watched the scene with a silly smile

“See?”, asked Cregan, “we conducted affairs with diplomacy and decorum”, 

“I’m glad then”, he said, palming his shoulder, “she is the last reminder we have of my brother, Aegon the conciliator”, he said 

Those words stuck with you for the rest of the night. 

“Why don’t you wait out Winter here?”, suggested Rhaenyra, over Daemon

“I’m the Warden of the North”, Cregan said, “I have to be with my people when winter is at its worst”, and then he looked down at you

“And my place is by your side”, you said then, and he smiled, kissing you again on your forehead. And you continued feasting and drinking with your family

“I could get accustomed to this”, Cregan laughed as you reached your room, he looked all around the room, he was marveled at the carved dragons decorating the walls, as you were, “even for only a few weeks”, he whispered, looking back at you

“You heard Rhaenyra, we can come whenever we wish”, you said with a smile, he stumbled towards the bed, still a little drunk, and with a wicked smile on his face

“Cregan!”, you warned and he threw himself, ever carefully, on top of you 

“My lady wife”, he purred, kissing you sloppily, “oh no”, he whined, frowning

“What? what is it?”

“I am a little too drunk”, he whined, kissing you one last time

“Yes me too, that feast was too much”, you muttered, he smiled, and kissed you one more time

“Let’s sleep wifey”, he said, “I love you”

“I love you too”, and you both fell asleep right there, holding each other 

Daemon kidnapped your husband the very next morning, to show him around and to train, and you decided, on your own, to enjoy the day here, until you had to return to the frosty North.

A walk along the beach seemed like a fantastic idea. 

Using your riding gear and your cape you abandoned the safety of the Castle to walk amongst the coast, your silvery dragon flew over the Dragonmount, it was a beautiful day, the skies were clear, the sun shining, but still a cold breeze told you something undeniable… Winter was coming.

Jace found you walking slowly on the beach, and he reached up to you running.

You turned around to receive him with wondering eyes

“Jacaerys”, you called, and he fought to regain his breath

“Hey”, he said, “My Lady”, he greeted with a shy smile, “Sorry for interrupting your walk”, he said, scratching the back of his head lazily

“It’s quite alright”, you said with a shy smile

“I wanted to talk to you, no, actually, I wanted to apologize”, he said, you didn't know why, but he was nervous, you both started walking, side by side, as you thought it was going to be easier that way

“For what?”, you asked

“I was awful to you when we were children”, he started, “I know what it sounds like”, he said, “That I’m saying this to you because we want your alliance, but the truth is, it had been in my mind since I saw you when we visited the capital about the succession”, he said sincerely, “only then, and thanks to Aemond I realized that we didn’t laugh with you, we laugh about you, and that was terrible”, he took one of your hands in his, and you let him, “And I’m truly happy that you found a home, and a family, that deserves you and cherishes you, it is clear that Cregan Stark adores you, and you deserve that and more”

Your eyes shined with unshed tears

“You are too kind”, you whispered, “We were only children, and I, accept and appreciate your apology”, you said softly, and he smiled

“It eases a weight from my shoulders”, he said, he took your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles, and you decided that wasn’t enough and you hugged him, he returned the hug.

You kept walking along the beach together, talking and laughing, sharing stories. 

When you returned to the castle, right by lunchtime, another Targayren entered the hall

“Aunt Rhaenys!”, you greeted, and she received you in her arms

“I heard you were making the journey and I wanted to see you”, she said, with a wide smile

“I’m glad you are here”

With her came the other of Daemon’s daughters, Baela.

And now it was a true family gathering 

Cregan will have to brace himself… 

So you spend three long weeks, feasting and drinking, with a great portion of your family, and Cregan and you had fucked everynight, sometimes in the day time, sometimes more than once time per night.

He was insatiable

And you were too

You liked the fact that he and Jacaerys were becoming friends, and in a more weird way, you were happy Daemon seemed to approve of him, you didn’t know why, but you were glad. 

Lord Manderly was close to arriving, and you were preparing mentally to return to Winterfell, not that you didn’t want to, but you had spent three marvelous weeks with your family like never before.

But you smiled, content, as you were leaving the Maester’s tower to confirm what you already suspected.

You smiled tenderly, caressing your belly.

You couldn’t wait to tell Cregan

So much so you ran to your room and you found him there, looking over the balcony towards the dragonmount, something you noticed he enjoyed doing

You hugged him by the back and you noticed how he grabbed your arms too, caressing them

“I’m with child”, you whispered, so softly you doubted he even listened 

“What?”, he said, in a second he turned around, still in your arms, he looked down at you wide eyed, and with a wide smile

“I’m expecting”, you said more surely, looking up at him with eyes filled with hope

“Are you sure?”, he asked, you noticed he drew a sharp breath, but he held you tighter

“I am, I’ve miss two blood moons, and the Dragonstone maester just confirmed it”, he laughed, letting out a relaxed breath, and he hugged you tightly, and kissed you repeatedly

“My love!”, he said, “I’m so happy!”, he said, he grabbed you in his arms and led you to the bed. You giggled when he laid you there gently, and climbed in the bed right behind you

“Cregan what are you doing!?”, you laughed, as he accommodated himself between your legs and starting raising your dress to uncover your lower part

“I wish to speak with my unborn child”, he said, like it was obvious

“I’m not even showing yet!”, you felt a little self conscious, when he uncovered your belly, “Cregan!”

“Shhh woman, I’m speaking to my baby”, he said gently, and then he leaned in over your stomach, “hey little pup”, he said softly, laying soft kisses around your belly button, “this is your papa speaking, be nice to your mother, mmm?”, he purred, you giggled with his warm breath tickled you, “grow big, strong, and beautiful”, he said winking at you, “come when you need too, but come healthy, and happy, we will be waiting for you, my little pup”

“Maybe is a dragonling”, you suggested

“Shhh”, he shushed you again with a smirk, “we love you, we will be waiting for you”, he said, placing a longer kiss in your lower belly

And then he laid there, hugging your midsection 

You didn’t know it then, he was not only happy, he was also fearful. 

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[house-strong]

— THE KING and the admiral ʾ ⋆

summary ; requested by @cedricsleftelbow

with no war between the greens and the blacks, lucerys velaryon has found himself as king of driftmark. despite having almost anything he could need at his disposal, there is one thing that he cannot yet have.

pairing ; pre-established!lucerys velaryon x knight!reader

notes ; in an au where lucerys doesn’t get offed by our favorite one eyed prince 💔 reader is a high commanding officer in the velaryon fleet and lucerys is also a lot older here,, i also can’t bring myself to recast luke 😔🔫 rhaenyra is also queen of the seven kingdoms as the greens surrendered peacefully

the towering splendor of dragonstone is quick to come within sight after mere hours of leaving the docks of driftmark. without kind winds or waves to carry the ship faster to his brothers castle, the supposed short journey took a turn.

lucerys velaryon eyes his ancestral home carefully from the forecastle deck, his stomach beginning to churn as he recollects his thoughts on the nostalgia that surfaces–he was a boy growing up here and now it was no longer home.

“my prince,” a feminine voice tears him away from the thoughts that blister his feelings. he turns his head, his face lifting at your presence, one of the many admirals within his garrison. “we should dock dragonstone within the hour, your brothers men have already flocked to receive us.”

he takes a deep breath to stagger the sickness that’s surly building bile within his throat, “good. i fear the sea doesn’t agree with me today, admiral.”

“the sea never fares with anyone, my prince. it’s nothing to be ashamed about,” you say earnestly. he gives you a smile at this and nods his head, his appreciation shown through the wild sparkle that's noticed from the distance between you two.

you two stare at one another, a stare that is a little too long that’s fit for a prince and his fleets admiral. you clear your throat, suddenly growing nervous under his bashful watch and bend half at the hip, taking your leave after a moment.

when the ship docked and lucerys was rowed to the shores of dragonstone with yourself, you two were accompanied by the men of dragonstone. the giant gates of the castle open and the party leads you through the corridors, pictures of dragons swirled across the marbled walls.

tall gates open to the throne room where a party has gathered. from your recollection, the queen rhaenyra sits atop the dragonstone throne and beside her, prince jacaerys and his wife, princess baela, are awaiting. jacaerys is the first to break into a smile, rushing down the steps to greet his brother lucerys with open arms. you can’t help but smile at the interaction.

“and who might this be?” it’s the queens voice that dances into the air. eyes turn to finally acknowledge you and you grow shy underneath their observant gaze. you slowly bend into what you thought was a curtsy, something that lucerys quietly snickers at.

it’s lucerys who speaks on your behalf, “this is admiral (y/n), she’s one of the many commanders of my fleet.”

“forgive me, your grace, my prince and princess, but i fear i’m not dressed for such an occasion,” you say, your voice softer than usual. speaking to royalty was more nerving than speaking to foul-mouthed sailors.

rhaenyra waves her hand as if dismissing the notion, “have no fear,” she pauses in between the phrases, “i’ve heard of your many feats in the velaryon fleet, you’re more than welcomed at court the way you are.”

with the queens leave, a guard approaches you and lucerys. you turn and watch as he turns on his heel, seemingly prompting you to follow his lead. you do as your bid, eyes scaling up and down the endless decorations that were cast into the walls.

“i think that’s the worst curtsy i’ve ever seen,” lucerys speaks up after a moment. a grin parts you lips and you send him a playful glare.

“you didn’t tell me i would have an audience with the queen.” you reply, thus beginning a short, heartfelt spurt of bickering remarks. you laugh and shake your head.

you both arrive at a room, where the guard stations himself outside. lucerys bids you farewell, lingering for a moment before taking off. you enter the room and take a look at your surroundings. it’s grand, for sure, with a balcony that oversees the bay. it’s more comfortable than what you’re used to.

you take your time to clean up; a warm bath is drawn up by the servants of house velaryon. you carefully scrub at the grime, the smell of lavender and sandalwood filling the air as the soap you lather in your hand become soapy with suds. you rub them into your hair and do care to wash it. you dry yourself off with cloth that’s given and you wrap a thin linen over your naked body as you approach the small chest that was delivered while you bathed.

you pick out the most appropriate dressage. the closest thing was riding pants and a corset over a long-sleeve. you supposed you could make it look out to be a dress, if you put a shawl over it. you dress and pin your hair back to make yourself seem more presentable.

there’s a knock at your door that surprises you and soon after, a voice calls out from behind the door, “her grace, queen rhaenyra.”

your heart feels like it’s in your chest and you smooth out any wrinkles on your clothes and in your hair. you wring out your hands before crossing the room and opening the wooden door. you smile at her and do your best to curtsy.

“your grace, what can i do for you?”

the queen smiles at you and dismisses the queensguard with a wave of her hand.

“i want to talk about lucerys,” she begins, doing a round about the room and touching various things that decorated the space. was she curious about how lucerys was as lord of driftmark? how his accomplishments are?

your hands join together at the front of you, “what about him, your grace?”

“you two seem to be close,” she says in a hum, her eyes catching yours. she searches them, as if the truth hid behind the color of them, “very close.”

“ah, yes, your grace, our titles require us to work together.” you rock from your heel to toe underneath her watchful gaze.

she seems dissatisfied by this answer, so she continues to probe, “i’ve seen the looks you’ve shared.”

your brows furrow in confusion, but then when clarity hits you, you open your mouth to protest. the queen is quicker to speak, “don’t fret, my dear. i just–” she sighs, sitting down on a nearby chair.

“i want him to be happy,” she says, looking up at you, “and you seem to be the cause as of late.”

warmth fills your belly as her gaze softens on you after her words. you didn’t have the heart to deny it. you remember vividly the day you had your admiral ranking celebration, or rather, the day your newfound love had blossomed for the prince. lucerys was there, adorning the admiral pin on your lapel, his hands lingering on your coat longer than expected. you look down at your feet. was this her way of rebuking you? telling you that your status was too inferior for her son? was she going to send–

“you should tell him sooner rather than late,” she says, rising from the chair and moving towards the door. “with the life you two live, you never know when the next moment could be your last.”

the queen dips her head in farewell and leaves you, open-mouthed, standing in the middle of your room.

you take a moment to collect yourself; a deep exhale leaving your lungs barren. you inhale and tuck the stray pieces of hair behind your ear. you smooth out your outfit once more, moving towards the door.

the guard stationed outside your door acknowledges you once you exit your private quarters. he stands at attention before wordlessly leading you to where the feast was surely being held. you two arrive at another hall, one that is decorated with targaryen and velaryon joined heraldries. you’re one of the first to arrive, sitting at one end of the table where your name was written on a placard.

slowly, the room begins to fill with other members of the royal family. you rise and attempt to curtsy at each arrival, only smiling once you lock eyes with lucerys. you should tell him. your mind wanders back to the queens message, was this endearment really shared?

lucerys sits on an adjacent side to you and the feast begins. you dig into the plates happily, servants walking to and fro from the table. your attention is turned to the queen once again when she entraps you into a conversation. you can’t help but toss your head back in laughter at something she says.

lucerys notices that you two are laughing together and he can’t help but smile himself. his stomach bubbles with tenderness at the interaction. beside him, a chair scoots and the scrape tears him away from himself. he looks to his side, the toothy grin of his brother taking up the space.

“she’s very pretty,” jacaerys says, his voice bordering a tease.

lucerys rolls his eyes and elbows his older brother, “don’t.”

“don’t, what?” his brother responds, his nose crinkling as he raises his cup of wine to his lips. he takes a thoughtful sip before speaking, “you two would make a handsome pair.”

luke wants to groan at the notion, but he can’t help but feel his heart flutter. at least someone else acknowledges it, he just wished it wasn’t his brother.

“enough, jace,” luke complains. jace raises his hands in mock defeat and gets up from his chair, moving back to sit with his wife, baela.

later that night when the dinner is done, lucerys paces back and forth in his room. he’s determined to end his suffering; the suffering he’s been enduring since the day he named you one of the admirals of his fleet. his hands clench into fists at his side before he tuts, throwing on his coat and leaving his quarters. he makes his way through the halls of dragonstone and makes his way easily to where your room was located.

he stops at the door, eyeing the guard that was stationed. he mumbles a quiet word of leave, to which the guard nods and leaves wordlessly. luke feels regret coil in his stomach. he holds up his fist and hesitantly raps the door three times.

there’s movement inside as luke stares down at his shoes. he only looks up when the door opens, his breath leaving him when he finally faces you.

“luke,” you greet, almost happily. “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

pleasure.

“i– i, uh,” luke stumbles upon his words. he curses himself mentally, his eyes squeezing shut as he shakes his head to rid himself of the self doubt. “i came to wish you good night.”

luke watches a flash of disappointment cross your face. you nod your head slightly, leaning on the door for support.

you give him a small smile and a noise of content, “well, good night to you as well, my prince. is there anything else?”

the prince of driftmark could’ve mistaken this for annoyance on your part. yes, there is something else. he opens his mouth to announce his feelings, the feelings that have plagued him all summer. however, nothing comes out. you both stand there, gawking at each other in obvious disappointment.

“no, my lady. that’s all.”

lucerys nods his head in leave and turns on his heel, marching back to the comfort of his quarters.

the journey back to his bed feels like it takes a lifetime while he’s thinking. he feels regret, resentment, and a callousness to himself for not ending his own agony. he finally reaches his room and slumps on the bed, a groan of disappoint being silenced by the sheets.

he stays like this for some time, mind without thoughts and even breaths occupying the small space between his face and the bed. a knock at the door, one that he almost doesn’t get up for, forces him to his feet.

“i don’t wish to be disturbed.”

there’s another set of knocks. lucerys sighs to himself before moving toward the door, opening it. his mouth hangs when he realizes that it’s you.

you two share a look, one that’s full of hesitance with the fire of an undying yearn. you’re the first to close the gap.

the collision is less than perfect and your lips crash onto his with a force that you’re sure will bruise tomorrow morning. his hands fly to your waist and you both stumble backwards into his room. you shut the door behind you with your foot, his hands fiddling with the lapels of your coat. you both work together to tear it off, the kiss becoming feverish enough to ignite a flame between you.

as warmth blossoms, you two shed layers of your garments. his was his coat, his tunic, and with your clothes, he did the best to tidily untie the laces of your corset. soon, the corset falls off with ease. only then, you two pull apart to catch your breath. lucerys is the first to laugh, something giddy that shows his excitement. you two are like kids again; flushed faces with wide grins.

lucerys crosses the short distance that’s between you and places his lips are on yours once more. you two stay like this for a moment before you slowly stumble towards the bed. you both fall on to it, luke on his back and you on top of his.

the next morning, you’re nestled into his side as sunlight seeps in through the balcony. you’re awakened by the light, a yawn parting your jaws as you blink through the sleepiness. lucerys stirs next you, his hold tightening on your naked body. you hum gently, observing the serene way he looked; the light from behind him highlighted the peach fuzz on his face, the small, dark hairs of a growing beard beginning to show. he looked ethereal, almost.

you sigh in content before snuggling deeper into his side, closing your eyes to savor the morning.

#lucerys velaryon x you #lucerys velaryon fic #lucerys velaryon imagine #lucerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon #lucerys x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #my writing

[echo-goes-mmm]

Hoarding Behavior #4

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: non-graphic processing of an animal (dead deer)

River woke up with purring in his ear and warmth against his cheek. What? His eyes flew open. He was on the opposite side of where he started, pressed into Master’s chest. He looked around wildly, and Master’s arms were loosely cradling him close. 

It wasn’t the worst feeling in the world, but there were better places to be than in the arms of a Master who could tear him apart. He slipped out from the hold. Noct cracked open an eye, but said nothing. He curled up on himself, and went back to sleep.

Now what?

He gazed around the den. His eyes landed on the cooking fire. Pots and pans hung on hooks from the wall. Breakfast sounded good.

He grabbed some eggs from a carton on the counter. He took a pan off the wall, and ran straight into a problem. How would he light the fire? It had long since gone out, and there were no matches or any flint. Of course there wouldn’t be; why would a dragon keep those around?

“Need a light?” He jumped. Master was right behind him.

“Yes, please.”

Master leaned over the wood and puffed a ball of flames. It lit instantly, a low heat perfect for eggs. 

“Thank you, Master.” He began to crack the eggs into the pan.

“I am going hunting,” Noct informed him, “I must kill all the bears in the wood to appease the village.”

“What about the wolves?”

“There are no wolves in the forest. I implied there was to make a better deal,” admitted Master, “Wolves are clever, and would not bother sharing territory with a dragon.”

“Oh. Um, have fun?” Noct cocked his head.

“I suppose I will. I do not care for bears. They dig up my garden and steal honey from the nearby hives.”

“You have a garden?” asked River as he scrambled his eggs.

“Of course. Why would I not?”

“I just… thought dragons ate only meat.” It seemed silly in hindsight. He had just eaten the dragon's food last night, and that had potatoes.

“Mostly. But I am fond of many things. I would not buy from humans when I can hunt and grow it myself. Aside from bread, of course.”

“Right.” River imagined Noct kneading bread and getting dough caught on his claws and the patches of scales on his hands.

“I will be back.”

“Okay.”

River ate breakfast slowly. Noct would be gone for at least a few hours. He washed the pan in the marble sink and hung it back on the wall. What to do now? He supposed he could just go back to sleep and wait for him to come back.

River laid back down. He sighed, staring at the ceiling. Even that was clean. Everything was clean. There wasn’t even a cobweb to dust away.

River wasn’t used to just lounging around. Even the servants at his old owners’ houses left messes for him to clean. There was always something to do. But Noct was incredibly tidy.

He sat up, already bored. He eyed Master’s collections on the shelves and displays. A tour of Noct’s things couldn’t hurt.

___________________

He was so fucked. 

River stared at the remains of the glass statue. He’d tripped over that damn chain and his elbow knocked it off the shelf.

He heard the distant whoosh of air in the tunnel. 

Of course Master would come home now, when he had no time to clean it up.

He watched, petrified, while Master carried in a deer on his shoulder. Noct glanced around the cave as he dumped the deer on the stone. His eyes landed on River and he must have seen something on his face, because he frowned and made his way over.

“What troubles you, my treas-” Master stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the shattered glass. 

“I- I’m sorry, it was an accident-” Master whirled on him, snarling. River stepped back, but Noct grabbed his wrist in a bruising grip. He raised a hand-

But the slap never came. Noct’s hold loosened.

River opened his eyes. Master was still clearly pissed, but he dropped River’s wrist and turned back to the shattered statue. 

“Go away,” he said, his voice oddly upset, “I will punish you later.”

River left him by the glass, and he sat in the nest. He grabbed a pillow, clutching it tight to his stomach and burying his face into it.

A faint sniffling reached his ears. He looked over. Noct was sitting on the floor, a piece of glass in his claws. He saw Master wipe his eyes. 

River couldn’t imagine that a small statue of a horse was sentimental or especially valuable, but dragons were different from humans. They were hoarders, drawn to certain items. Maybe it didn’t matter the object, everything they deemed important was worth crying over.

He really messed up.

Noct cleaned up the glass. But instead of coming over and punishing River as promised, he dragged his catch of deer to the kitchen. He began to butcher it, skinning it and portioning out cuts of meat.

River stewed in anticipation as he watched Noct get up to his elbows in viscera. It made sense to punish him after salting and wrapping the meat. He couldn’t let the dead deer linger in the warm room, but he hated waiting like this.

Noct opened a stone door in the wall, and disappeared behind it. That must be where Master stored most of his food.

He waited as Master returned and cleaned up the blood and gore.

He waited as Master went to dispose of the excess.

He waited as Master washed the pelt.

He waited as Master went to clean himself up.

He waited as Master set the skin aside for tanning.

Until finally, Master turned to him. His face was stern and impassive, and River shrank under his gaze. He took the pillow from River and tossed it aside. 

Master hauled him up and dragged him to another part of the nest. He forced River to his knees, sat in front of him, and then pulled River over his lap. 

River flushed. He whimpered when Master yanked down his pants and pinned his wrists with one hand.

The first smack surprised him. He gasped, jolting forward in Master’s lap.

His face burned and he tugged involuntarily against Master’s grip. Master barely noticed, his hold like stone as each measured smack landed on his ass. Soon the dull ache of each blow turned into a stinging pain when his hand landed on him. Again. And again. And again.

It was humiliating.

His whines turned to sobs, but Master did not let up. He wasn’t hitting him any harder than before, but it felt worse with each strike.

Until finally he was finished. River lay limp, and he pulled his arms close to bury his head in them. He didn’t have the energy to move off of Master’s lap.

Master rubbed his back and let him cry.

As far as punishments went, it wasn’t… the worst. His ass hurt like hell and he was completely drained. But a spanking was vastly preferable to the cutting torture of a whip. It was more embarrassing, somehow, even though Master had left him nearly dressed. When River got the whip, he had to strip to his boxers and everyone saw everything. But here he was strangely more flushed and ashamed while covered up with only Master to see.

After a few minutes, he could breathe properly again. He sat up and wiped his face with his hand.

“Here,” said Master, handing him a pillow. River pulled it close in a tight hug.  Master draped a blanket around him.

Master got up, glancing towards him with pity as he passed. It was over, and he wasn’t mad anymore. His expression puzzled River. Did he regret punishing him?

Noct began to make a meal, and River didn’t know if it was supposed to be lunch or dinner. Either way, he was grateful when Master handed him a plate of roasted vegetables and a tender cut of seared meat. 

Master had given him a knife with his food, but clearly he was supposed to use his hands to eat. 

River still felt miserable, a headache forming, but it was a little funny when Noct used the claw on his finger as a fork to stab the veggies. He supposed he wouldn’t bother with a fork either if his hands had naturally pointy bits.

But the way Noct ate his venison- sharp teeth flashing and the steak quickly disappearing down his throat- reminded River that he was trapped with a predator. The most dangerous, lethal predator in the world, and River belonged to him. Even if his idea of a punishment was far more gentle than he was used to, Noct was still deadly.

taglist: @paintedpigeon1

#listen im not trying to say dragons have Hoarding Disorder lets get that straight #theyre dragons it's natural not a disorder and also does not meet the threshold even if dragons were human #crying over a broken trinket is just Noct doing typical Dragon things (tm) #also if youre wondering: Noct didn't slap him cause he doesnt want to “damage” River #after all River is part of the hoard so it doesn't make sense to Noct to *really* hurt him #hoarding behavior #my writing #whump #slavery whump #carewhumper #captivity whump

[the-exhausted-xexandaler]

Tears of the Kingdom hot take; It’s not actually the latest in the canon… it would’ve been the first in a repeating cycle.

I’m not talking about like how Majora’s Mask does it with the Song of Time reverting Link to the start of the three day deadline. I mean a cosmic repetition. Let’s break it down:

Bomb Flowers are commonly seen around the caves and underground, yet only super tech from an ancient civilization can make explosives artificially. Bomb Flowers are also nowhere at all in BotW, but plentiful in TotK. It may be true that the BotW had bomb Arrows and barrels, but no organic bomb flowers.

The master sword broke and was ‘restored’ by the light dragon who (it’s already been a few months since the game came out so spoilers are a go ahead), in other words Zelda, an incarnation of the Goddess Hylia who is said in multiple places to be the Goddess of Light and/or Time. The sword is now filled with so much holy, godly energy that if Link didn’t have his arm on loan from the original king he probably wouldn’t have been able to handle.

Notice how Ganondorf was specifically called ‘Demon King’ in multiple accounts of TotK’s plot and takes an appearance similar to the original Demon King Demise. If Zelda hadn’t been able to restore the Master Sword over 10,000 years, he might’ve conquered the world or had to be sealed by the gods all over again.

Ganondorf is also the origin of all monsters. Bokoblins? Moblins? Hinox? All from Ganondorf’s malice.

Bokoblins in both BotW, TotK and Skyward sword hold similar appearances. About human sized goblin creatures.

While the Moblins of BotW and TotK don’t look like Moblins in SS, the Boss Bokoblins do. Large stocky body that lumber over to whack the incarnated hero with lots of sticks.

Freaking floating islands that no doubt would have been Skyloft and it’s accompanying islands a few thousand years down the road.

The map of the regions in SS matches pretty well with BotW and TotK. Eldin Volcano matches up with Death Mountain in the Eldin and Akala regions to the NE.

Faron’s woods matches up with Lanayru, Nacluda and Faron regions being a mix of both a well forested and very watery region.

Lanayru Desert matches up with the Gerudo region pretty nicely with the exception of the robots and greenery, but oh oh the Zonai have a depo deep underground and a swarm of well learned ladies who could easily learn how to reverse engineer the technology for agriculture and mining especially given the Gerudo highlands that are literally a light jaunt away.

The boss Scaldera is eerily alike a pillbug version of a Talos or more likely to be akin to the Marbled Gohma, a similarly single eyed creature that lives in a volcanic region.

The Mucktorok is a being that creates vile sludge that could poison the resilient Zora, likely would be able to even poison a legendary dragon in a strong enough dosage.

The Gibdos in TotK may be more humanoid and more similar to moths, but Lanayru Mining facility has had an awful infestation by a seemingly immortal species of Scorpions.

Rito species could easily be seen as an evolutionary upgrade to the Loftwings, but could also be seen as a predecessor. The Loftwings aren’t simple birds, but a clever species able to respond to complex instructions and respond to the unique whistles of their chosen riders. This is especially likely as the region might’ve just kept growing colder and colder until the Rito race have to adapt to new surroundings.

Nit every Goron had been corrupted by the Marbled Gohma. The young could have fled Death Mountain after all the corrupted Gorons killed eachother over the Marbled Roast. Maybe becoming a race of nomads like they were in SS.

Zelda was able to restore herself with the help of Link, Sonia and Rauru at the end of the game, so it’s likely the other three roaming dragons that loop around Hyrule (Farosh, Naydra and Dinraal) could regain a modicum of sense in time to help restore a few regions to sense, and all three relate to the elements of the sacred dragons of Skyward Sword (Faron and Naydra have water and ice based abilities respectively, Eldin and Dinraal are fire based, Lanayru and Farosh are electric based).

#legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #breath of the wild #skyward sword #time loop theory

[weirdanimal-tournament]

THE COMPETITORS

After hours of filtering, I have a list! From 411 submisstions to 134 competitors. Of course, that means that not all the submissions are competing. My main rule for filtering was that when many similar animals were submitted, one was selected. This means that even if your submission din't get in, there is likely somthing else similar you can vote for instead! I'm hoping to get the polls out this Saturday or Sunday, and I'll post the time once it's decided. That being said... here's the list!

Mouse deer

Blanket octopus

Twenty plume moth

Anomalocaris

Caecilian

Bagworm moth caterpillars

Balaenognathus

Banded archerfish

Barnacle

Barreleye fish

Tripod fish

Bigfin squid

Bilby

Black sea hare

Black snub nosed monkey

Blobfish

Blue sea dragon 

Nano-chameleon

Bush brown caterpillar

Chinese water deer

Maned wolf

Colugo

Common spotted cuscus

Corpse Assassin Bug

Messmate pipefish

Cotylorhynchus

creatonotos gangis

Tongue eating louse

Ganges river dolphin 

ghost pipefish

Giant Anteater

Giant gippsland earthworm

Giant tube worm

Giraffe Weevil

Glowworms

Goblin shark

Golden mole

Green-banded broodsac

Greenland shark

Gum leaf skeletonizer caterpillars

Hagfish

Hallucigenia

Hammer head bat

Helicoprion

Honduran white bat

Short horned lizard

Green hydra

Jerboa

Jerusalem cricket

Lamprey

Largetooth sawfish

Bulwer’s pheasant

Lowland Streaked Tenrec

Lyrebird

Marbled polecat

Mata mata

Mexican mole lizard

Ghost faced bat

Mudskipper

Muntjac

Naked bulldog bat

Naked mole rat

Phillipene tube nosed fruit bat

Oarfish 

Mantis shrimp

Ogre faced spider

Okapi

platypus

Pangolin

Parrot fish

Partridge bug

Pelican eel

Asian giant softshell turtle

Pink fairy armadillo

Pipa pipa

Platybelodon

Portuguese Man O War

Potoos

Predatory tunicate

Pufferfish

Sea spider

Red lipped batfish

Bowmouth guitarfish

Roseate spoonbill

Pink iguana

Royal albatross

Sage grouse

Saiga antelope

Sailfin dragon

Volcano snail

Schaefer’s anglerfish

Sea cucumber

Sea pig

Sea sheep

Sharovipteryx

Echidna

Assassin spider

Spider tailed viper

Siphonophore

Solenodon

Spectral bat

Spix’s disc winged bat

Spotted wobbegong

Stalk-eyed fly

Stoplight loosejaw

Giant phantom jelly

Sunfish

Sword billed hummingbird

Tailless whip scorpion 

Tapir 

Tardigrade

Tarsier

Telescopefish

Woodcock

Aye-aye

Bobbit worm

Nautilus

Glass frog

Immortal jellyfish

Olm

Mirror spider

Trilobite Beetle

Trumpetfish

Vampire bat

Vampire squid

Velvetworm

Wonderfish

Wrinkle-faced bat

#animals #animal #weird animals #weird animal #tournament #competition #poll #polls #zoology

[thedragonagelesbian]

To The Sticking Place

Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins

Rating: T

Pairing: Alistair/Zevran

Summary: When Alistair runs out of the Landsmeet, Zevran goes to find him, and they wander through Denerim together, talking everything over.

Someone in the Denerim Market District was hawking a set of Grey Warden armor— the genuine article, according to the merchant ratcheting up its price by insisting it guaranteed protection against the imminent darkspawn invasion. The chunky chainmail didn’t suit Zevran, but when he saw a tarnished golden token with a familiar worn rune on the ground nearby, he had to stop. A few silvers later, he learned the armor had belonged to a puffy-eyed man who had been eager to get rid of it and didn’t think to haggle. With a bit more asking around the market, Zevran followed the trail from a street vendor selling hot sandwiches to a man selling wrinkly and wriggly puppies to finally, the Chantry.

 It was there that he found Alistair doing something he had never seen him do before: praying. Wedged between dozens of other sinners and mourners trying to clear their slate before the Blight came for them, Alistair was kneeling before the likeness of Andraste, his face dimly lit by the single candle cupped in her marble hands. He seemed unremarkable: no heraldry of the wardens to mark him as Fereldan’s almost-savior, no crown to distinguish him as its almost-king.

 Resolved not to draw any unwanted attention, Zevran drew up his hood and skirted around the shadows of the nave until he was crouched by Alistair’s side.

 “You dropped this, my dear friend.”

Keep reading on Ao3

#dragon age #dragon age origins #alistair #alistair theirin #zevran #zevran arainai #zevistair #alistair x zevran #first da fic in 3+ years every body clap

[ehlnofay]

Summerfest Day 5 - FORGOTTEN

At the foot of the Statue of Akatosh, there is a crumpled linen gambeson. Its fabric is pale pearly grey, still smelling ever-so-slightly of sulphur; the place where the sides tie at the front is torn and stained brown with old blood, and the quilting is spotted with mould. Sewn onto the chest with meticulously jagged stitches is a black cloth emblem of a wolf.

Every so often – when the Imperial City’s humid air leaves everything damp with dew for days on end, or when the rain patters down through the smashed-up roof – Jeelius takes to the cloth armour with hot water and lemon juice and spells it dry. He hadn’t done anything to it at first. No-one had done anything to it at first – still reeling, trying to understand what had happened and what it meant. Every cleric that served in the Temple of the One had been raised with it – if not physically, they’d heard stories of it since they were children – and it was jarring to have it so literally ripped away and apart, returned chewed up and spat out. (Even if it was a miracle. Even though it was a miracle.) No-one knew what to do with anything at all. The gambeson barely registered, until it rained.

Nowadays, when it rains, the water floods the Temple’s fractured hall and runs down the marble steps into the street. Poor J’mhad is stuck trying to figure out how to dry it all every time, several of the priests trying ineptly to help or just pressing themselves against the wall, shivering. When it rains, the water cascades down the statue and pours over the steps of the dais. The gambeson, tucked away between the claws of its foot and the stump of a marble pillar, is drenched every time. It was harder to ignore when it stank of must and mildew. It was ruining the Temple air and making the visiting worshippers sneeze. So Jeelius washed it.

And he’s kept washing it since.

They’ve talked about more sustainable solutions – an acolyte suggested getting rid of it – but Jeelius couldn’t stand the idea. It felt – wrong, somehow. The gambeson is part of this place; a memorial to whatever exactly happened here, before the golden dragon killed the devil and cleared the skies. It’s important. It belongs.

Maybe he’s being sentimental.

(He remembers collecting that gambeson from its hiding place in the bushes. Then, he watched its owner sponge it down with a care that felt incongruous with their gruff voice and hard-eyed face.)

Regardless, neither he nor Tandilwe would hear of its removal, so it stays. He’s never tried to clean off the blood – that, too, feels in some way disrespectful – but he wipes it down in the fashion he remembers watching all those months ago, keeping it fresh and free of dust and mould. It’s comforting, in its way. Another new little ritual.

There are a lot of new rituals. It’s rather a lot to adapt to. Jeelius was drawn to priesthood for its stability, for the comfort he found in rites and traditions as unchanging as the Nine themselves; for as long as he’s been in this vocation he’s been performing customs centuries old. The world changes so quickly – history compounding, moving inexorably onward – but faith stays still, a single thread remaining through time as all others snap and fray. This, at least, does not change.

Until it does. The Temple of the One has no roof anymore; moss grows in the cracks of the flagstones, so thick and springy that he feels it through the soles of his slippers. They still maintain the braziers that held the Dragonfires, but now more care is paid to the statue – not so much to its maintenance, since it is newer than the braziers by millennia and larger by multitudes, but to its overwhelming presence, its implications, the necessity of restructuring the physical space and activities of the Temple around it. J’mhad is petitioning for gutters to be put into the floor of the halls so that the rainwater has somewhere to drain to. No-one is eager to alter an ancient structure – but J’mhad points out, not unreasonably, that it’s a bit late to worry about that now, and that this minor renovation would preserve the stone from damage and erosion that would be far worse in the long term.

It isn’t just the place, either. Nothing is the same anymore. In the immediate aftermath, people are scrambling – the priesthood included; Jeelius speaks to hundreds of people in those first few days after who still have the smell of sulphur and ash in their hair, who tell him about barricading their doors and hiding out through that final attack, who tell him about friends and family who weren’t inside when it started or whose walls and windows weren’t strong enough. Jeelius says soothing things, like he’s supposed to – leads them through prayer, like he’s supposed to – hides his shaking hands under the skirts of his robe and doesn’t look anyone in the face and doesn’t fixate on his own helplessness when other people are trying to talk through theirs, selfish, like he’s supposed to. When the people he speaks to aren’t seeking counsel – or once they’ve finished asking for help – they gawk at the statue, ask is it truly an avatar of Akatosh, did it really fight off the Daedra, are they gone for good? Did Jeelius see it? Does he know for certain?

He wishes they’d stop asking. He doesn’t want to think about knowing for certain; he wants the same easy belief he had before any of this. He wants, like everyone, to go back to normal; he knows that nothing ever will.

(He didn’t see it. He was in Tandilwe’s cellar. He doesn’t actually remember any of it – all he knows, all he’s been told, is that he had a knife and Tandilwe couldn’t make him let go. If he was going to die he was going to die quickly.)

He tells the ones who ask that he didn’t see it.

No-one seems to have seen it, not in its entirety. The Avatar itself, bright as the sun and screaming gold, is a common enough story, but there are no witnesses of whatever happened in the Temple in the chaos preceding its arrival.

(There’s only a gambeson left on the floor.)

But Jeelius doesn’t think about it, because in those early days the Crisis isn’t really over, no matter what the Council says. Everyone is still lost in the terror of it, trying to scrape out some path back to living, to understand how to keep moving. (Jeelius stops sleeping. Too many people need his help, and he’s scared to close his eyes.) Everyone is waiting with gritted teeth or bated breath for the next attack.

But instead they receive word that the Gates on the roads are closed.

People who had been away from home and terrified to travel begin to return.

No matter how long they wait, the shoe never drops. Jeelius won’t say it, but by all that is holy, sometimes he wishes it would. The Oblivion Crisis defined the world until it didn’t, and now everyone everywhere is living without it and he doesn’t know how to do that anymore. An artist sketches out the scene of the Temple battle as seen from the window of an insula a district over, and when it’s printed as a wood-cut in the Black Horse Courier Jeelius sees a looming statue and the winking of a blade in the demon’s ink-lined face and has to sit behind a pillar until he’s breathing again. After he takes up the self-appointed duty of maintaining the discarded cloth armour, he finds that breathing in the smell of cut lemons is the only thing that will calm him down.

The worshippers stop being desperate and start being curious. It’s easier to help them, now, regardless of his feelings about it. Then come the pilgrims, to pray at the site of Akatosh’s avatar, of his great victory, with endless more questions, none of which Jeelius feels he is answering to their satisfaction.

Did you see Martin Septim? they ask. Did you witness his exaltation? After the last of the Septims is named a saint, they come to pay respects to him as well as Akatosh. They speak of him in such reverent terms as make the ridge of Jeelius’ spine stand on end – though it could well be deserved; he doesn’t know, he never met the man.

(He remembers a letter he saw scribed in Cheydinhal. Dear Martin, I’m abandoning you for another priest I found…)

The pilgrims have a lot of questions, but no-one asks about her.

It’s – odd, Jeelius thinks. He supposes it’s the environment – the people who travel here are here to see the statue. The avatar. They’re here for worship, not gossip. Only he hears talk from the other priests. Hears talk in the marketplace when he goes to run errands. Reads the Black Horse every week and shares news with the others in the Temple and talks through the end of the Crisis in excruciating detail with almost everyone who visits, and it never comes up. No-one is worried. No-one even wonders. It’s as though the miracle has erased them from existence, as though the Divine saviour overwrote the human one.

There’s not even a note in the missives, a brief mention in conversation: no news of the Hero of Kvatch. Jeelius keeps an ear out but there’s never any news of the Hero of Kvatch. Just a bloodstained gambeson to wipe down with water and lemons.

No-one is worried. Why would they be? What is there to worry about now that the crisis is over and done? But Jeelius looks at the blood and thinks of red-stained robes and haemorrhaging in the abdominal cavity. Everyone else might gaze up in wonder at the statue of the Avatar – indomitable, irreproachable, something more than flesh and blood – and praise it as their deliverer, but Jeelius’ saviour stole a toffee apple in front of him and called him names and travelled with him back to the Capital because he said he was afraid.

Jeelius’ saviour was a child. And they’re missing. And everyone knows – they have to. They knew all about her before. But now that there’s a miracle in the Temple district and no use for a hero…

Out of sight, out of mind.

The pilgrims keep coming, and with them come travellers who aren’t here for worship – just to see the avatar for themselves. Someone asks, once, if it’s real.

Jeelius keeps performing his duties, as ever; wringing his comfort from them as best he can, despite how different it’s all become. Twice a week, more depending on the weather, he lays the gambeson flat and sponges it with lemon water, then puts it exactly back where it was.

He still doesn’t know why it feels significant, but it is.

Maybe he wants to make sure he has it on hand, just in case. Just so he can return it, if they ever come back.

#:) #tesfest23 #the elder scrolls #tes #tesblr #oblivion #jeelius #oc tag #pax #my writing #fay writes

[searchingforserendipity25]

Of Good Memory

For @khazadweek. The prompt about Dís took over my mind yesterday. With special thanks to @arofili!

----

Her name is honoured among and above the names of kings.

Ered Luin was too poor to attract a dragon, in the days when Thorin Oakenshield’s Company walked alone out of her gates of carved granite - lonesome, with all the pride and ambition of Dúrin’s Folk.

Dís made it so: all mining tunnels carefully monitored, and the trading quotas demanding. Let the wealth of the last Dwarven Kingdom flow from the mountain, in brooches and rings and safe-boxes! Let it pay for acorn flour, eggs and cured ham and succour. There was bread; there were hunting parties, and companies of travelling smiths, and enough food for five children born to the mountain every ten-year.

And there were songs! - Dwarrow songs, songs to make the hands itch for a hammer to work and a hammer for war, to sting the eyes with memory.

With an ear to the world and a heart of stone did Dis, daughter of Thraín second of his name, rule Ered Luin, as fortress and warehouse and last refuge. A city small and petty, to the eyes of the loremasters, and those few as ancient as the mountain. She had known precisely the cause and the wide-ranging cunning, when Gandalf the Grey cane to the mountain sky-people named Ered Luin, speaking of riddles and presenting her father's inheritance as enticement, a taunt, a bribe.

To the council of Guild-masters said she, the mountain's magistrate herself: Hearken to me, brothers, sisters, kin of flesh and stone! The elves have in the heart of their realm such a foe as cannot be defeated, and their master seeks to urge us to die for it ourselves.

To her eldest she said: Prince Dúrin-born, be bold and wise and do not hesitate your hand upon the blade! The die is cast, and you must cheat it, for Dís was a prince herself, and knew well princedom's foremost mastery, above ruling and smithing and woodcraft: cheating life out of death itself, and glory if life be forfeit.

To her youngest, the keen-eyed archer, she said also in secret, There is a shadow in the Wood, and I wish to know of it all that may be had, and bid him wariness and cunning if they should follow the Road through it.

But to her brother she said nought. Ever the hearts of Thraín's children were bare to one another, and never shrouded, though they might have wished for less truth, and more comfort.

Her name is in the prayers sang before the altars in the households of the Khazâd, over the gritty stonework of Eriador, the marble of Erebor, the dirt of exile. Glory and good memory to Dís daughter of Thraín! But Dís daughter of Thraín never returned to the mountain of her forefathers; she had Ered Luin for husband and wife, brother and son, and no lord among her people begrudged her claim.

So it is that Dís lies buried there, under the grey-black-flickering stone, entombed alone of all her kin: mighty in life, mighty in death, Mahal be her witness.

#khazadweek #dís #fíli #kíli #thorin oakenshield #dwarves #the hobbit #my writing #everything about dís and historiography and memory makes me a little crazy!! what was going on there that she's the only female dwarf #mentioned by tokien! #ered luin #tolkien #lord of the rings #gandalf

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (04x06)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 4 Episode 06: Someone’s Acting Sus

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of the housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: that there is no fluff content...just an ominous sound of some mystery

Word Count: it’s all fun and games to do a solo road trip in your car till your body starts suffering from migrane because it ain’t used to you driving for three hours. Still fun tho.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

Natasha sat on the bar top, her legs resting on either side of the marble top as she sipped her morning kale smoothie and eyed Loki suspiciously. The God sat at the corner table on the rooftop bar, scribbling something in his little pocket notebook.

Natasha's voice: I know something's up...

The shot cut to Loki being handed a note from Peter as they crossed each other at the poolside, the camera automatically turning to the small crowd lounging in the background and panning in for a moment to find a familiar redhead buried in a book that eyed the God till he was out of sight. 

I know Loki has been hiding something ever since he and y/n got back from their space trip.

The frame was cut to older footage of you and Loki returning home. Everyone was celebrating your return home with you standing in the middle of the lounge, your hand suddenly reaching for your forehead. Your fingertips tried to press on this one spot repeatedly while you smiled at everyone and heard how they had been watching you throughout your journey.  Loki saw you. And the camera was catching Natasha seeing Loki seeing you with some hint of concern. The God reached into his coat pocket and took out a little pouch. Not realising he was being watched by the world's most dangerous spy, he reached for a glass behind the counter of the kitchenette and poured the powdered contents of the pouch before filling it with water. The water was clear within five stirs and Loki practically ordered you to drink it.  Natasha was disappointed more than surprised when no one noticed it when she exchanged a look with the camera.

Natasha: *swivels her chair and turns her pen in her fingers* Ever since their trip, Loki has grown more cautious. *tilts her head a little* he was cautious before, of course, but this time he is cautious with intentions that do not seem docile. 

Another footage from a few weeks ago came up. Natasha, Scott, Steve and Sam were debating about a good bagel place on their way to the training hall. "I still think Bagels Bagels Bagels is on the t-" All three stopped in their tracks, a little surprised, a little confused and a little impressed.  The camera following the three shifted past them to watch Loki doing push-ups with three-hundred-kilo dumbbells. One round of chest pumps, one of the glutes, and the last round of cable fly before repeating the sets again. “Did one of you say something to him?” Sam whispered to his counterparts, his eyes not moving off the God. Scott shook his head before furrowing his brows. “Then why is he suddenly into bodybuilding?” “Maybe he watched the Bachelorette?” “He must have been inspired by one of those animated series you guys watch. One of those Dragon Balls.” “Somebody must’ve spiked his drink this morning with some pro-anxiety pills.” Scott was about to say something when all three men and the camera turned to look at Natasha. The Blackwidow looked straight ahead; no leakage of pretence or doubt.  “Very specific turn of events,” Scott mumbled, still not getting any reaction from her.  “Hey Loki,” Natasha shouted, taking her workout partners by surprise, “what’s up with all the workout.” The dumbbells hit the ground with a reverberating thud. “Not strong enough,” he growled between long breaths before moving on to another machine. 

Natasha: He had defeated almost all threats wherever he'd been on his space trip. And yet he was thinking he wasn't strong enough. He was telling the truth with those anxiety pills. *camera pans in to her resting bitch face* Or...whatever he was high on. I'm just guessing. *slowly blinks and looks at the camera with a smooth warning stare*

He is alert most of the time like a lost kitten The footage of the lounge showed Loki sitting on the couch, seriously watching the feed of the space events, while Scott snored right next to him. You and Steve were sitting in the back corner at the dining table going through your assignment when a thud on the lounge window made the God stand up and turn around with his fists blazing in green and golden light.  Steve half stood up from his seat to find out Peter had miscalculated the inertia of the new web material and landed on the window while experimenting with his suit on the facility grounds in Bruce and Hope's company. Even Steve was surprised to see the God in a fighting stance. "It's just Peter." You strained your neck to watch Loki from where you sat, equally surprised. Scott still snored, unaware of his surroundings.

And then there was the one time with Y/N Another footage of the nighttime in the lounge. You sat with your laptop on the couch, doing your assignment. Loki sat next to you, watching the feed on the big screen with the same seriousness as before. The big screen showed you sleeping on the ship while Loki flew the vessel away from Knowhere. The God got up and went to the kitchenette to get himself some water.  As he took a step to come back to his seat, you did a big stretch and let out the eeriest growl-cum-scream before going back to work. The God stood there frozen, the water still in his mouth, a layer of fear covering his features that relaxed only when you told him to get you water too.

He has watched Y/N do worse things.  Footages run one by one of the times you have yawned in front of him; burped worse than a boomer while he sat next to you unfazed. The time you farted in his direction while watching a movie on the couch as he took the nearest cushion and fanned the air away from him, his eyes still glued to the screen. The time you worked all day to make your signature lava cakes for Pepper's cravings; and then you had walked into Loki's room in a sleepy daze and fallen on his bed without a word while he sat on the other side reading. No words had been spoken till the God realised you snored worse than Thor. He threw a duvet over you to cancel out the noise.

Natasha: *sipping on her boba tea* He is either scared of Y/N or is having some sort of mild panic attacks. *shrugs* I mean, given his history that is something he would definitely suffer from but what does that have to do with Y/N. And why is Peter involved in this?

The camera cut to the footage of the night when everyone was packing for vacation. One could hear Scott shouting in the hallway asking if anyone had seen his travel-sized bag of toiletries. You were looking for Wanda to ask if she wanted you to keep the curling iron or if her magic will do the hair for them. One camera was standing on the floor above, following Natasha towards the room at the other end of the facility. The door marked security was opened without much effort and the Blackwidow put a bag full of memory cards on the table in the middle.  "Do not say a word about this to Javier," she ordered the person behind the camera, "I know he too has not told you much." Sitting down, she turned on the table holograms and scattered the memory cards on the table before picking them up one by one according to the days marked on them. "Hey, Friday, I have a request to make. Do not tell a word about this to Tony." Friday blimped up in the room. "You do realise I am not allowed to keep anything from Mr Stark, Miss Romanoff." "Then think of it as a piece of information that could induce a panic attack for our beloved Mr Stark." There was a second of silence. "I wonder if anyone's told you how dangerously conniving you are, Miss Romanoff." Natasha smiled. "All the time. Now read up on these memory cards and tell me what's missing." Friday blimped again. "Already finished reading them. All of them have footage of Mr Loki, Miss Y/N and Mr Javier's adventure in space." Natasha waited a few moments before raising her hands in question.  "Anything missing? Any cuts, deleted scenes, overwritten feed?" "No. Everything is in place from Day zero to Day One hundred and twenty-three." Natasha slumped back in her chair, visibly disappointed for a second.  But not for long.  "That can't be right." "And why is that, Miss Romanoff?" Natasha got up from her seat and opened up the facility files on the table hologram under "Project Slice of Life". Scrolling through the camera cuts gathered there, she opened up the video for the day you arrived home from space. In the footage, Javier was sitting next to Peter by the kitchen island, showing him all the features of the alien tech.  "It doesn't seem like some regular alien stuff, Javi. This thing looks expensive." Peter beamed at the camera in his hand. Javier nodded. "I was scared at the thought of not having any devices to record," Javier signed, sighing with a big smile, "it would have been the longest one hundred and thirty-five days of my life." "Oh," Friday blimped in the background while Natasha's face glowed with a smirk, "looks like somebody forgot to turn in twelve days' worth of footage."

(I know this isn't your usual chapter content but we sorta needed this for the direction where the story is going and I didn't feel like the extra shots would've done it justice. )

#loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki series #loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #mcu loki fluff #mcu fluff #mcu fic #marvel fic #marvel fluff #It's The Avengers #Maladaptive Ninja Returns #The office #the office au

[sunshine-in-a-bottle]

hi suds!!! can i ask what's up with untitled document number 4 and punz has a knife??

Lays down. Hi Lo. Did you know that I have So Many WIPS actually for my Dragon Age Dream au. It's so fucking bad I am actively drowning in ideas. That specific untitled document is supposed to be his chess game with Techno and they're going to TALK and have FEELINGS and BE FRIENDS and I struggled a bit to get a feel for Techno in this universe and what being him would Mean here, and I'm getting a clearer picture, but there were other parts of the au that needed to be written, so I decided to hold off on it before finishing. Plus writing Philza’s chapters helps a lot with worldbuilding on his end.

"Ah, cmon, Phil, now you're not even trying anymore." Dream perked up, slipping out the door and into the Skyhold gardens. He'd been here only twice since they had settled, but each time looked far cleaner than the last. It was thrilling, having progress be so visible. Tangible.  He let himself twirl, disguising it as observing his surroundings, before approaching the area where his Commander and Knight Enchanter sat. "I'm getting a little worn out, Techno; we've been playing for hours." "It's only been four games, Philza. I think you just don't want to lose again." "That's not it-" Philza groaned, before spotting Dream watching from a pillar. "Dream! You're here. You know how to play chess, right?" Dream eyed the chessboard. The pieces were incredibly fancy, gilded on a marble board. Techno's personal set? "I've played before." "Excellent. I've got some things to take care of in the kitchens today, so why don't you take over for me?" Philza was already out of his chair before Dream could answer, walking past to clap him on the shoulder.

THERE'S A LOT HAPPENING DON'T LOOK AT ME.

also.

PUNZ HAS A KNIFE IS THE COMMUNICATION KNIFE AU. I've been trying very hard to take all the pieces and Sif's help and suggestions and turn it into something that makes sense and I am trying Very Hard and Things Happen Sometimes and-

Punz has a knife. Punz has a lot of knives of course, for a lot of different reasons, but this one is particularly special. A short, gaudy thing, with a textured blue handle so he can always get a good grip on it. It’s kept in beautiful condition, with its blade sharp and sheathe easy to slide in and out of. There are no nicks on the blade, ensuring that each cut is neat and clean, and that any damage done will never be more than what Punz intends. On its handle, carefully engraved in gold, is the word ‘Communication.’ It is always kept close, whether on Punz’s hip or their toolbar, but its use has grown less frequent over time. Its existence holds a single purpose: to carve out boundaries when Sam’s self restraint cannot. If the word ‘no’ is not something that Sam will adhere to, then a blade in his shoulder will have to do. The language of violence is universal, after all. Rational, sane people might argue that a knife is not the best way to communicate boundaries in a relationship. However, none of the participating parties are rational or sane, so this opinion is irrelevant. Punz has taken risks by using lesser methods in the past, and he was done with taking risks; not when the cost was for Dream to pay. So he has a knife instead, and while that might not be for everyone, it's worked pretty well for them so far.

I feel so fucking scatterbrained just thinking about all the word I still have left to do I'm not going to lie, BUT WE WILL PRESEVERE

#my writing #suds asks #Communication Knife AU #To Tear Asunder

[bitchesgetriches]

How to Make Any Financial Decision, No Matter How Tough, with Maximum Swag

Step 1: Determine your priorities

For so many decisions about money, there really is no right answer, just different means to the same end. So it really does depend on a lot of factors, one of which is your life priorities.

This is because personal finance is (try to contain your shock) personal.

You can read advice all day about how renting is a waste of money and you’re much better off buying property. And that advice is right for some… but it might not be right for you.

If your priority is to travel often and live a minimalist lifestyle, and you couldn’t give two shits about things like feng shui and marble countertops… then maybe renting is for you, and damn the math!

What’s a priority?

Your priorities are the principles, people, activities, and lifestyles you hold most dear.

For example, environmentalism is a priority for me. It drives a lot of my decisions, even when that means I might spend more time or money on something in an effort to be more environmentally friendly. Sometimes, the more environmentalist choice is the more frugal choice. And sometimes, environmentalism saves me money but costs me time. I have to weigh my environmentalist priority when making consumer decisions.

Likewise, your priority might be to travel the world, spend as much time as possible with your loved ones, or dedicate your life to winning the Leadville 100. It’s something that matters to you that everyone else might not give a fuck about.

Let your priorities guide you

Once you determine your priorities, they should be at the forefront of every major financial decision you make.

If your priority is to spend time with your family, you might turn down an extremely lucrative job offer in another state. Doesn’t make mathematical sense! But it’s your priority, and you know you’d be miserable were you to ignore it to blindly follow career advancement.

Others might not understand your dedication to your priorities. They might find your priorities ludicrous and your decisions batshit. That’s ok! Your financial decisions don’t have anything to do with anyone else.

Step 2: Set your goals

Once you’ve determined your priorities, you need to set goals that align with those priorities.

What’s a goal?

A priority is what’s important to you in life—your values, what you care about, what makes you feel happy and fulfilled. A goal is a concrete milestone that measures where you are in relationship to where you want to end up. Often your goals are informed by your priorities.

Other examples of financial goals: pay off student loan debt within five years, own a home within the next ten years, increase your income by 20% over the next two years, get rid of credit card debt by the end of the year, finally start that pet grooming business where you cut and color poodles so they look like little dragons by 2023.

What every good goal has in common

Eagle-eyed readers will notice something about the examples above: they’re all specific, measurable, and time-based.

“Maybe own a home some day” is not a good goal. It’s too vague! That vagueness gives you permission to put your goal on the back burner and work on other things instead.

Having an achievable, specific goal to work toward should inform your financial decisions. Every big money choice you make should come back to the question, “How does this help me achieve my next goal?”

Step 3: Do the math

There’s a reason the mathiness comes last. It’s because it’s the easiest and often least important part of the equation.

We’re a personal finance blog. And we put a whole lot of emphasis on the “personal.” And while I’m not suggesting the personal should always trump the financial when making money decisions, it definitely should take precedence a lot of the time!

Now that you’ve determined your priorities and set your goals, it’s time to get mathy with it!

Return on investment

The math on a financial decision often comes back to determining which of your options provides you the best return on investment. Which sounds like a much scarier, more sophisticated monetary concept than it actually is.

“Return on investment” (ROI) simply means what you get for the effort you put in. Working for an hour and getting paid $7.25 is a low return on investment compared to working for an hour and getting paid $15. (WHOOPS! There we go inserting our liberal, commie, pro-union agenda into the discussion again! #FightFor15.)

Not every ROI calculation will be as clear as comparing time in and money out. If you’re determining whether to keep renting or buy a home, you’re going to compare the ROI of a lot of factors. A large down payment vs. a comparatively small security deposit. Eventually owning an expensive asset vs. paying periodically increasing rent checks every month forever. Arranging and paying for repairs yourself vs. passing that labor and cost on to your landlord.

If your goal is to pay off multiple debts, you’ll need to figure the ROI on which of your debts to start with. Is it the one with the highest balance? The lowest balance? Or the one with the highest interest rate? The lowest interet rate? The nice thing about this kind of ROI math is that there are clear answers for which option will save you the most money over the long haul, and which option will work fastest.

What if there is no right answer?

Make no mistake: “do the math” does not mean “figure out the thing that will save you the most money and do that thing.” Because again—saving the most money might not align with your priorities and goals!

If your goal is to pay off your debt as soon as possible, then you might choose to rent instead of saving up a down payment to purchase a home. Even if renting is more expensive in the long term! But your goal is to crush that debt beneath your stylish yet affordable heels. So you throw all your available cash at your debts, mathematical ROI be damned.

This is why the math comes last.

- How to Make Any Financial Decision, No Matter How Tough, with Maximum Swag

#personal finance #saving #debt #student loans #buying a house

[certifiedskywalker]

Where Fantasy Meets Fear - Dream of The Endless

He was the curator of many millennia’s worth of Dreams and Nightmares…but Morpheus has never seen a Dream quite like yours.

You were, as you always were, on the edge of Fiddler’s Green. His verdant hills rolled your way, wishing and wanting to welcome you. It was the same invitation extended to you each time you entered the Dreaming and the same invitation you ignored whenever you took note of its call. Still, the flittering Dreams that danced in the Green continued wanting for you. You.

Wanting just as the lashing and ever-screaming sea did at your back. Tendrils of mist reached, desperate, but waited when they found you laid beyond their range. Before your arrival, Morpheus never knew patience swirled within the whirlpool of the Nightmares. His own creations contained unknown multitudes brought forth by you. You. 

You laid on the fringes of the Dreaming, where fear and fantasy melded in Grey. A place that Morpheus found beyond even his timeless understanding. For even in his century-long absence this grey area of his realm had remained intact, beautifully so. As if it too were waiting for you since the Dreaming’s creation. Waiting as it did in the present for your return whenever sleep claimed you. You. 

You were beyond Morpheus’ understanding too.

“My Lord?”

He flicked his head to the side and eyed Lucienne. “Yes?��

“Are you…alright?” “Yes,” he murmured, turning back to gaze out along the Dreaming, the Grey. “In its recreation, I have grown more curious about my kingdom.”

“Curious?”

Morpheus stepped towards the railing of the balcony and let his slender fingers rest against the cool marble. The dragon-wing breeze lapped at his hair, his coat, his skin, and, for a fleeting moment, all was quiet in his endless mind. No mortal Dreams or Nightmares. He closed his eyes, savoring the silence. That was until he heard the footfalls of Lucienne behind him, where, Morpheus knew, the loyal librarian would linger just out of his view. 

Just as you lingered out the reach of his most powerful creations. No longer would he let the Grey go unexplored. No longer your presence in the Dreaming go ignored. With every other game won, Morpheus needed to find another. You.

“When I returned, you warned me of the ruin that befell my realm. Yet, certain aspects remained whole despite my absence. The Grey between Fiddler’s Green and the sea is one such aspect. It has endured without my aid or yours.” “Indeed, my Lord. It spread, bloomed really, at the tail end of this last century. Close to two decades before your return.”

“Two decades,” he hummed, thoughtful. “And the dreamer within?”

“Appeared only a few years after it started blooming.”

Morpheus opened his eyes slowly and let the bright light of his kingdom soak his vision, blinding the cosmos within.  When cleared, his gaze fixed once more on that far-off spot of mottled shade. “It prepared. It waited, all for one soul. Without my giving heed of it.” “It flourished, but that is all I noted from my distanced observations. I hope you will forgive my lack of substantive details,” Lucienne said, at last standing at Morpheus’ side. “In your absence, I tried to save what I knew and…that…I do not know.”

The Lord of Dreams turned to face his librarian, hands falling to his sides with an eerie, easy grace. He beheld her with a steely seriousness emphasized by the puckered look of his lips. Lucienne watched him, still learning of the changes in Morpheus: the scars of slights and sweets left by humans and vortexes alike. Where his indifference was once easy to read, Morpheus’ rather newfound empathy complicated her study of him. The typical sternness of his countenance shifted then, and often, into a sort of softness, before Lucienne’s eyes.

“There is nothing to forgive, Lucienne. I too turned away from it, distracted by dreamers and the chaos caused by rogue creations. No longer.”

Lucienne felt a smile pull at her lips. “Because you’re bored, my Lord?”

A raven caw filled the silence of Morpheus’ lack of reply. He eyed her, not nervously, for he was Dream of The Endless. But he eyed her in a manner that was far too human in the vexed disturbance expressed. As if a trickster-snake of a god had been caught in the act of mischief. The corners of Morpheus’ mouth quirked up in the slightest of smiles, a new habit that still surprised the most learned soul of the Dreaming.

“Perhaps.”

“There are many more Nightmares and Dreams in need of construction.”

“And if I am to construct them so, I am in need of inspiration beyond that of fears and fantasies found in the mortal realms.”

Lucienne forced herself to look out at the expanse of the Dreaming to stifle her scoffing at Morpheus’ foolhardy excuse. Perhaps he had spent too much time traipsing about London. 

“I’m certain your siblings would be willing to provide such inspiration. Desire, I imagine, would inspire a fair bit of anger-”

As she spoke, the librarian looked over to where her liege stood. He was already gone. 

Underfoot, the green faded into grey, blade of grass by blade of grass. Colorlessness swallowed Morpheus as he neared a small cabin that looked straight from the American Frontier. Log walls were stuck by cement and smoke, greyer than grey, poured out the top of a squat brick chimney. What a warm sight it would have been.

That was if the greyscale shading had not so stolen away any possibility of cabin comfort. Though, it was far from cold as Morpheus ran his fingertips across the wooden door. When he pushed softly against it, the wood felt alive, even the splintering bits that pressed into his flesh like placid threats. No harm or hurt would come to him, of that Morpheus was sure.

For even though the Grey had alluded his understanding, it was a part of the Dreaming and therefore a part of him, despite the degree of removal. The dreamer within?

Morpheus stepped through the open door, the rotting, panel floor creaking under his light weight. His second step was muffled—the next hollow. Morpheus looked down and saw the floor swirling into different, shadowy textures below his boots. Wood to carpet, carpet to tile, and tile to dirt. It was changing, blooming beneath him.

When he looked up, Morpheus saw the interior did the same. The walls melted into new walls. First, cabin logs. Next, a flowerful wallpaper. Gleaming windows of a nighttime city skyrise. Stacked stone pieces of a Welsh castle. The decor changed to match. Varying velvet armchairs turned into worn bar stools and leather loveseats to park benches.

All that remained fixed was the bed. With the headboard pressed up against the ever-changing wall, the framed mattress seemed to stretch along the length of the room. Grey and white sheets spilled off the sides in fabric waterfalls. Atop the mess of the bed laid a blanketed lump that swelled with breath before it shrank with an exhale. The dreamer.

Morpheus could hear the heartbeat: a soft and steady thing that emanated throughout the room. Its rhythm lived in the walls, the floor, and the air. Just as Morpheus was of the Dreaming, you, the dreamer, were of the Grey. A realm within a realm.

Or perhaps a Dream so powerful that it and you were out of Morpheus’ reach.

Slowly, as to not trip over the shifting floor, the Endless drew nearer to the bed, the dreamer. He leaned over and peeked past the blankets. You were grey too. Curled up, fingers wrapped snug around the edge of the sheet and eyes shut tight, you were anchored by sleep. For a human to truly sleep in the Dreaming, the layered realm of the after-sleep…it was impossible. Unless, of course, some other power lingered in the Grey, so far unseen. No matter the cause, such slumber was dangerous.

“Dreamer,” he boomed, leaning closer, “you must wake or be lost in the Night beyond the reach of any Dream. Wake and tell me of this place.”

He lifted his head and scanned about the room to see if his voice held any baring within the walls. The Grey continued changing: a rickety, hay-covered barn to a sparse and small dorm lodging at a university. Wild and whirlwind, the shifting of the setting would have dizzied a mere mortal. It only agitated Morpheus.

“Dreamer,” he pressed again, peering down at you.

When you gave no response, he moved his right hand and rested it against your shoulder. Under his touch, you shifted. Not quite beyond his reach any longer.

“Wake.”

With a flash, your eyes opened. The Grey stopped in its shifting, caught halfway through its change between a lavish hotel suite and coal-toned jail cell. Color seeped into your skin, your irises, and your clothes until Morpheus appeared more akin to the monochrome that swallowed you both. Despite the shock evident in your wide eyes, you remained still, blanketed in bed.

“Who are you?” Your voice was small, graveled and ground with sleep.

“I am Lord Morpheus of the Dreaming.”

“I take it that I’m there, in the Dreaming?”

“You are,” Morpheus replied, pleased at your sharpness. “And you are?”

“Shouldn’t the Lord of the Dreaming know his…subjects?”

“Yes, I should. Yet, you have remained sequestered,” Morpheus tipped his head around the Grey, “for some time and I was away from my kingdom.”

You blinked at him and Morpheus recognized the look of human distrust. Slowly, he moved to sit on the side of the bed you left mostly unoccupied. The mattress dipped with his weight but you remained still. Distrustful.

He drank in the sight of you, studying you so he could regale Lucienne with every detail and so he could remember you. How wonderful you looked, even in the face of such strangeness and in the presence of him, a stranger. It was as if your time in the Grey was to prepare you for him, his arrival. Or perhaps the Endless wished that so.

Before he got lost in entertaining his own fantasy, Morpheus glanced about the room. Iron bars mixed and melded with gold-flecked, marble wall hangings. Some twisted in-between just for you. An in-between that Morpheus had no hand in creating. A Dream beyond him.

“This place, it is of you.”

“I think so,” you said, turning on your back so you could properly look up at the dark-haired being sat at your side. “Does it feel like of your Dreams?”

"Yes and no. It is not mine. It is alien,” he met your eyes again, “but you are human.”

“And you are…you. What do you think of this?” Your eyes danced along the Grey.

“You are alone here. You return to this place, a reoccurring Dream. A spot just for you and you are not quite afraid.” Morpheus paused and looked at you, his head cocked to the side, watching. “Your Dream is a fantasy of warm solitude, independence. Self.”

You blinked, eyes flicking across the pale angles of Morpheus’ face. “And my Nightmare is loneliness, an empty bed. What do you make of that, Lord Morpheus? What do you call it when your Dream and your Nightmare are so similar?”

His hand moved down your arm from your shoulder. Warm skin met cool and he heard the shuddering breath you took as his slender, feather-like fingers intertwined with yours.

“A curse. You are cursed to sleep alone, in any place. Even in the Dreaming.”

“A curse,” you murmured, considering the word. An ache struck the Lord of Dreams when your eyes fell to the stretch of mattress that laid so bare. You stared at it as if the curse were woven into the comforter, gaze distant and jaw slightly slack.

Morpheus thought of his sister Despair then. He wondered if your curse was of her bidding, if it were her hooks in you that tore the Grey into a bleeding bloom. At the thought, his grip on your hand tightened and you met his eyes. Your look remained distant and Morpheus felt that ache swell in his chest. He shifted against the mattress and released your hand.

“I do not know where this curse came from,” he murmured, turning so he could lay on his side, facing you, “but I will find its origin. I will free you from the Grey.”

You moved to lay on your side once again, so you could look into Morpheus’ eyes more clearly. “Then why are you in my bed?”

“To ease the ache.”

Without a word, you settled in, your hand resting between your two bodies. Morpheus let his hand rest on yours, less confident than before. Though, just as the Endless nearly pulled away, a voice broke through the noise in his head just as smooth as the breeze.

“Thank you.”

Your whisper floated in the Grey as you closed your eyes. Morpheus felt some tightness snap at last, like whatever, or whoever, he had been waiting for had finally arrived.

#dream #dream of the endless #the sandman #morpheus #lord morpheus #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless fanfiction #the sandman netflix #the sandman imagine #the sandman imagines #the sandman fanfiction #the sandman fanfic #the sandman x reader #lord morpheus imagine #lord morpheus x reader #morpheus imagine #morpheus imagines #morpheus fanfiction #morpheus fanfic #morpheus x reader

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

AFFC: The Princess in the Tower (Arianne II) [Chapter 40]

Hers was a gentle prison.

Arianne took solace from that. Why would her father go to such great pains to provide for her comfort in captivity if he had marked her for a traitor's death? He cannot mean to kill me, she told herself a hundred times. He does not have it in him to be so cruel. I am his blood and seed, his heir, his only daughter.

You know things are broken when you believe your father is capable of killing you.

+.+.+

If need be, she would throw herself beneath the wheels of his chair, admit her fault, and beg him for his pardon. And she would weep. When he saw tears rolling down her face, he would forgive her.

Snort.

"Tears," she said scornfully to Sansa as the woman was led from the hall. "The woman's weapon, my lady mother used to call them. - Sansa VI, ACOK

+.+.+

Ser Manfrey took her arm and marched her up the steps, up and up until her breath grew short. The Spear Tower stood a hundred and a half feet high, and her cell was nearly at the top. Arianne eyed every door they passed, wondering if one of the Sand Snakes might be locked within.

A princess in a tower!

+.+.+

There were Myrish carpets on the floor, red wine to drink, books to read. In one corner stood an ornate cyvasse table with pieces carved of ivory and onyx, though she had no one to play with even if she had been so inclined. She had a featherbed to sleep in, and a privy with a marble seat, sweetened by a basketful of herbs.

Arianne, I believe Doran Martell wants his heir to study the game.

+.+.+

"Someone told," Hotah had said. The memory still made her angry. Arianne clung to that, feeding the flame within her heart. Anger was better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt. Someone told, someone she had trusted. Arys Oakheart had died because of that, slain by the traitor's whisper as much as by the captain's axe. The blood that had streamed down Myrcella's face, that was the betrayer's work as well. Someone told, someone she had loved. That was the cruelest cut of all.

But who would want to hurt Myrcella?

He said we had the Imp to thank, for sending us Princess Myrcella. She is so pretty, don't you think? I wish that I had curls like hers. She was made to be a queen, just like her mother." Dimples bloomed in Tyene's cheeks. - The Captain of the Guards, AFFC

Could it be the creepy girl?

+.+.+

She paced around her tower, twice and thrice and three times thrice. She sat beside the cyvasse table and idly moved an elephant. 

Moving the Golden Company's elephants, are you?

All eyes on the game pieces in this chapter.

+.+.+

Someone told, she thought. Someone told. Garin, Drey, and Spotted Sylva were friends of her girlhood, as dear to her as her cousin Tyene.

Sure, awkwardly throw Tyene's name in there.

+.+.+

She could not believe they would inform on her . . . but that left only Darkstar, and if he was the betrayer, why had he turned his sword on poor Myrcella? He wanted to kill her instead of crowning her, he said as much at Shandystone. He said that was how I'd get the war I wanted. But it made no sense for Dayne to be the traitor. If Ser Gerold had been the worm in the apple, why would he have turned his sword upon Myrcella?

Good point, we need the (wo)man behind the curtain.

+.+.+

Someone told. Could it have been Ser Arys? Had the white knight's guilt won out over his lust? Had he loved Myrcella more than her and betrayed his new princess to atone for his betrayal of the old? Was he so ashamed of what he'd done that he threw his life away at the Greenblood rather than live to face dishonor?

That's a bingo!

+.+.+

During the daylight hours she would try to read, but the books that they had given her were deadly dull: ponderous old histories and geographies, annotated maps, a dry-as-dust study of the laws of Dorne, The Seven-Pointed Star and Lives of the High Septons, a huge tome about dragons that somehow made them about as interesting as newts. Arianne would have given much and more for a copy of Ten Thousand Ships or The Loves of Queen Nymeria, anything to occupy her thoughts and let her escape her tower for an hour or two, but such amusements were denied her.

Arianne, I believe Doran Martell wants his heir to read the books.

Blah, I'm always troubled when a character I like is choosing not to read history. That's never good.

To be fair, I'd prefer original ship girl over the boring newts as well.

+.+.+

No visitors were permitted her beyond the servants; Bors with his stubbly jaw, tall Timoth dripping dignity, the sisters Morra and Mellei, pretty little Cedra, old Belandra who had been her mother's bedmaid. They brought her meals, changed her bed, and emptied the chamber pot beneath her privy, but none would speak with her. 

[...]

Yet none of them had a word for her, nor would they deign to tell her what was happening in the world outside her sandstone cage. "Has Darkstar been captured?" she asked Bors one day. "Are they still hunting for him?" The man only turned his back on her and walked away. "Have you gone deaf?" Arianne snapped at him. "Come back here and answer me. I command it." Her only reply was the sound of a door closing.

So she wept, pleading through her door for them to tell her what was happening, calling for her father, for Septa Mordane, for the king, for her gallant prince. If the men guarding her heard her pleas, they gave no answer. 

[...]

They were fed—hard cheese and fresh-baked bread and milk to break their fast, roast chicken and greens at midday, and a late supper of beef and barley stew—but the servants who brought the meals would not answer Sansa's questions. - Sansa IV, AGOT

+.+.+

Is this my father's notion of torment? Not hot irons or the rack, but simple silence? That was so very like Doran Martell that Arianne had to laugh. He thinks he is being subtle when he is only being feeble. She resolved to enjoy the quiet, to use the time to heal and fortify herself for what must come.

Let's see how you're doing in a few weeks.

+.+.+

Instead, she made herself think about the Sand Snakes, Tyene especially. Arianne loved all her bastard cousins, from prickly, hot-tempered Obara to little Loreza, the youngest, only six years old. Tyene had always been the one she loved the most, though; the sweet sister that she never had. The princess had never been close to her brothers; Quentyn was off at Yronwood, and Trystane was too young. No, it had always been her and Tyene, with Garin and Drey and Spotted Sylva.

+.+.+

Nym would sometimes join them in their sport, and Sarella was forever pushing in where she didn't belong, but for the most part they had been a company of five.

Like the Citadel?

+.+.+

They splashed in the pools and fountains of the Water Gardens, and rode into battle perched on one another's naked backs. She and Tyene had learned to read together, learned to ride together, learned to dance together. When they were ten Arianne had stolen a flagon of wine, and the two of them had gotten drunk together. They shared meals and beds and jewelry. They would have shared their first man as well, but Drey got too excited and spurted all over Tyene's fingers the moment she drew him from his breeches. Her hands are dangerous. The memory made her smile.

They sure are.

Can you imagine losing your virginity in a three-way? That's confidence.

+.+.+

Prince Oberyn had armed each of his daughters so they need never be defenseless, but Arianne Martell had no weapon but her guile. And so she smiled and charmed, and asked nothing in return of Cedra, neither word nor nod.

Guile! Arianne's got more than two weapons.

+.+.+

"Please," Cedra finally whispered, after Arianne had painted a vivid picture of Garin throwing himself from the window of his cell, to taste freedom one last time before he died. "You have to help him. Please don't let him die."

"I can do little and less so long as I am locked up here," she whispered back. "My father will not see me. You are the only one who can save Garin. Do you love him?"

"Yes," Cedra whispered, blushing. "But how can I help?"

"You can smuggle out a letter for me," said the princess. "Will do you that? Will you take the risk . . . for Garin?"

Cedra's eyes got big. She nodded.

I have a raven, Arianne thought, triumphantly, but who to send her to? 

You precious, I love how much you underestimate your own father.

+.+.+

Half of the Ullers are half-mad, the saying went, and the other half are worse. Ellaria Sand was Lord Harmen's natural daughter. She and her little ones had been locked away with the rest of the Sand Snakes. That would have made Lord Harmen wroth, and the Ullers were dangerous when wroth. Too dangerous, perhaps. The princess did not want to put any more lives in danger.

Laying some foundation on House Uller.

"Lords and ladies, let us all now drink to Tommen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms."

[...]

The white knight did drink, as was only courteous. His companions likewise. So did the Princess Arianne, Lady Jordayne, the Lord of Godsgrace, the Knight of Lemonwood, the Lady of Ghost Hill … even Ellaria Sand, Prince Oberyn's beloved paramour, who had been with him in King's Landing when he died. Hotah paid more note to those who did not drink: Ser Daemon Sand, Lord Tremond Gargalen, the Fowler twins, Dagos Manwoody, the Ullers of the Hellholt, the Wyls of the Boneway. If there is trouble, it could start with one of them. - The Watcher, ADWD

+.+.+

Lord Fowler might be a safer choice. The Old Hawk, he was called. He had never gotten on with Anders Yronwood; there was bad blood between their Houses going back a thousand years, from when the Fowlers had chosen Martell over Yronwood during Nymeria's War. The Fowler twins were famous friends of Lady Nym as well, but how much weight would that carry with the Old Hawk?

More non-drinkers.

+.+.+

"Give the man who brings this to you a hundred silver stags," she began. That should ensure that the message was delivered. She wrote where she was, and pleaded for rescue. "Whoever shall deliver me from this cell, he shall not be forgotten when I wed." That should bring the heroes running.

Look at all these weapons you have.

+.+.+

Cedra hid the message in her bodice. "I'll find someone before the sun goes down, princess."

"Good," she said. "Tell me how it went on the morrow."

The girl did not return upon the morrow, however. Nor on the day that followed. 

Lol, Arianne's got to work on not getting other people in trouble.

+.+.+

The freedom that Prince Oberyn allowed his bastard daughters had never been shared by Prince Doran's lawful heir. Arianne must wed; she had accepted that. Drey had wanted her, she knew; so had his brother Deziel, the Knight of Lemonwood. Daemon Sand had gone so far as to ask for her hand. Daemon was bastard-born, however, and Prince Doran did not mean for her to wed a Dornishman.

You never know, he might be a Targaryen.

Her father did not mean for her to wed a Dornishman. We'll see what happens when Doran and Aegon have left the story.

+.+.+

Arianne had accepted that as well. One year King Robert's brother came to visit and she did her best to seduce him, but she was half a girl and Lord Renly seemed more bemused than inflamed by her overtures. Later, when Hoster Tully asked her to come to Riverrun and meet his heir, she lit candles to the Maid in thanks, but Prince Doran had declined the invitation. The princess might even have considered Willas Tyrell, crippled leg and all, but her father refused to send her to Highgarden to meet him. She tried to go despite him, with Tyene's help . . . but Prince Oberyn caught them at Vaith and brought them back. 

One of them is still available?

+.+.+

Grandison had seemed a pleasant fellow, less querulous than Estermont and more robust than Rosby. She would never marry him, however. Not even if Hotah stands behind me with his axe.

Vows made at axe point are not valid.

+.+.+

Days came and went, one after the other, so many that Arianne lost count of how long she had been imprisoned. She found herself spending more and more time abed, until she reached the point where she did not rise at all except to use her privy. The meals the servants brought grew cold, untouched. Arianne slept and woke and slept again, and still felt too weary to rise. 

Remove all the context and this is a retelling of Sansa's time in Maegor's Holdfast.

The only thing that's missing is Arianne opening the window and thinking about it.

+.+.+

I am frightened, she realized, for the first time in my life, I am frightened of my father. That made her laugh until the wine came out her nose. When it was time to dress, she chose a simple gown of ivory linen, with vines and purple grapes embroidered around the sleeves and bodice. She wore no jewels. I must be chaste and humble and contrite. I must throw myself at his feet and beg forgiveness, or I may never hear another human voice again.

Snort.

She found a cedar chest full of her clothes at the foot of her bed, so she stripped out of the travel-stained garb she had slept in and donned the most revealing garments she could find, wisps of silk that covered everything and hid nothing. Prince Doran might treat her like a child, but she refused to dress like one. She knew such garb would discomfit her father when he came to chastise her for making off with Myrcella. She counted on it. If I must crawl and weep, let him be uncomfortable as well.

+.+.+

Instead he delivered her to the prince's solar, where they found Doran Martell seated behind a cyvasse table, his gouty legs supported by a cushioned footstool. He was toying with an onyx elephant, turning it in his reddened, swollen hands. 

More elephant contemplation.

+.+.+

"A strange and subtle folk, the Volantenes," he muttered, as he put the elephant aside. 

The elephants are on the move!

They claim the Golden Company is making for Volantis. - Cersei IV, AFFC

+.+.+

"I told them to place a cyvasse table in your chambers," her father said when the two of them were alone.

"Who was I supposed to play with?" Why is he talking about a game? Has the gout robbed him of his wits?

"Yourself. Sometimes it is best to study a game before you attempt to play it. How well do you know the game, Arianne?"

"Well enough to play."

"But not to win. My brother loved the fight for its own sake, but I only play such games as I can win. Cyvasse is not for me." 

I love Doran, but if my father constantly spoke to me in code, I'd do drugs and have unprotected sex.

+.+.+

She seated herself across the cyvasse table from her father.

Guys, you're on the same team.

+.+.+

She touched one of the cyvasse pieces, the heavy horse. "Have you caught Ser Gerold?"

He's on a horse in the mountains.

+.+.+

Hotah made no reply, except to grunt. Arianne could feel his anger. Darkstar had escaped him, the most dangerous of all her little group of plotters. He had outraced all his pursuers and vanished into the deep desert, with blood upon his blade.

x

He shook his head. "Would that we had. You were a fool to make him part of this. Darkstar is the most dangerous man in Dorne. You and he have done us all great harm.

Not that I want to see something bad happen to the characters I like, but George better deliver with this Darkstar character. Too much talk. So far the guy couldn't even manage to kill a little girl.

+.+.+

Arianne was almost afraid to ask. "Myrcella. Is she . . . ?"

". . . dead? No, though Darkstar did his best. All eyes were on your white knight so no one seems quite certain just what happened, but it would appear that her horse shied away from his at the last instant, else he would have taken off the top of the girl's skull. As it is, the slash opened her cheek down to the bone and sliced off her right ear. Maester Caleotte was able to save her life, but no poultice nor potion will ever restore her face. She was my ward, Arianne. Betrothed to your own brother and under my protection. You have dishonored all of us."

+.+.+

"I never meant her harm," Arianne insisted. "If Hotah had not interfered . . ."

". . . you would have crowned Myrcella queen, to raise a rebellion against her brother. Instead of an ear, she would have lost her life."

I mean, yeah.

+.+.+

"If? The word is when. Dorne is the least populous of the Seven Kingdoms. It pleased the Young Dragon to make all our armies larger when he wrote that book of his, so as to make his conquest that much more glorious, and it has pleased us to water the seed he planted and let our foes think us more powerful than we are, but a princess ought to know the truth. Valor is a poor substitute for numbers. Dorne cannot hope to win a war against the Iron Throne, not alone. And yet that may well be what you have given us. Are you proud?" The prince did not allow her time to answer. "What am I to do with you, Arianne?"

Honest assessment, but the author will punish him for wanting those dragons.

+.+.+

"Now you have. I want to know who informed on me."

"I would as well, in your place."

"Will you tell me?"

"I can think of no reason why I should."

"You think I cannot discover the truth on my own?"

"You are welcome to try. Until such time you must mistrust them all . . . and a little mistrust is a good thing in a princess." 

Trust no one, I once told Eddard Stark, but he would not listen. - Sansa I, AFFC

+.+.+

"As it happens, I agree. Aside from Darkstar, your fellow plotters were no more than foolish children. Still, this was no harmless game of cyvasse. You and your friends were playing at treason. I might have had their heads off."

"You might have, but you didn't. Dayne, Dalt, Santagar . . . no, you would never dare make enemies of such Houses."

"I dare more than you dream . . . but leave that for the nonce. Ser Andrey has been sent to Norvos to serve your lady mother for three years. Garin will spend his next two years in Tyrosh. From his kin amongst the orphans, I took coin and hostages. Lady Sylva received no punishment from me, but she was of an age to marry. Her father has shipped her to Greenstone to wed Lord Estermont.

Many have theorized that because Sylva Santagar received no punishment, and married above her station, she was the one who told Doran. He's a corpse, how is that a reward?

I'm more inclined to believe Doran is putting his pieces where he wants them. Unfortunately, I couldn't tell you what the plan is.

+.+.+

As for Arys Oakheart, he chose his own fate and met it bravely. A knight of the Kingsguard . . . what did you do to him?"

"I fucked him, Father. You did command me to entertain our noble visitors, as I recall."

+.+.+

It was her turn to flush. Her seduction of Ser Arys had required half a year. Though he claimed to have known other women before taking the white, she would never have known that from the way he acted. His caresses had been clumsy, his kisses nervous, and the first time they were abed together he spent his seed on her thigh as she was guiding him inside her with her hand. 

Arys had known other women before taking the white. She would never have known by how nervous he was.

I try not to make everything about jonsa, but taking the white is rarely used in these books. You tell me what that reminds you of.

+.+.+

"No," Arianne said. "Say that he died defending his little princess. Tell Ser Balon that Darkstar tried to kill her and Ser Arys stepped between them and saved her life." That was how the white knights of the Kingsguard were supposed to die, giving up their own lives for those that they had sworn to protect. "Ser Balon may be suspicious, as you were when the Lannisters killed your sister and her children, but he will have no proof . . ."

". . . until he speaks with Myrcella. Or must that brave child suffer a tragic accident as well? If so, it will mean war. No lie will save Dorne from the queen's wroth if her daughter should perish whilst in my care."

He needs me, Arianne realized. That's why he sent for me.

One lie leads to another and so on. They don't have a choice, but you can see this is not going to end well.

+.+.+

She gave him no chance to reply. "I know it is my duty to provide an heir for Dorne, I have never been forgetful of that. I would have wed, and gladly, but the matches that you brought to me were insults. With every one you spit on me. If you ever felt any love for me at all, why offer me to Walder Frey?"

That's so regressive. Don't marry, and have no children instead.

+.+.+

"The pact was sealed in secret. I meant to tell you when you were old enough . . . when you came of age, I thought, but . . ."

"I am three-and-twenty, for seven years a woman grown."

"I know. If I kept you ignorant too long, it was only to protect you. Arianne, your nature . . . to you, a secret was only a choice tale to whisper to Garin and Tyene in your bed of a night. Garin gossips as only the orphans can, and Tyene keeps nothing from Obara and the Lady Nym. And if they knew . . . Obara is too fond of wine, and Nym is too close to the Fowler twins. And who might the Fowler twins confide in? I could not take the risk."

Me thinks Doran Martell just told us how he found out.

Garin -> Tyene -> you decide.

It's possible Tyene told him directly, but I can't deny . . . Obara caught my attention. I kind of love the idea of crafty Doran harnessing the power of wine.

+.+.+

"It makes no matter. He is dead."

That left her more baffled than ever. "The old ones are so frail. Was it a broken hip, a chill, the gout?"

"It was a pot of molten gold. We princes make our careful plans and the gods smash them all awry." 

You should be thanking the gods for that one.

+.+.+

Her father plucked up a cyvasse piece. "I must know how you learned that Quentyn was abroad. Your brother went with Cletus Yronwood, Maester Kedry, and three of Lord Yronwood's best young knights on a long and perilous voyage, with an uncertain welcome at its end. He has gone to bring us back our heart's desire."

She narrowed her eyes. "What is our heart's desire?"

"Vengeance." His voice was soft, as if he were afraid that someone might be listening. "Justice." Prince Doran pressed the onyx dragon into her palm with his swollen, gouty fingers, and whispered, "Fire and blood."

Can you use another word? You have to use another word, or it will go to shit. I don't make the rules.

Doran giving her a black dragon is used to support fAegon theories by the way. I don't mean to irritate people, I'm only sharing.

Final thoughts:

Sometimes Arianne is written like she's 18 years old.

Another princess in a tower has the next POV (who would have guessed?), and it's the largest chapter in the entire series. I require more than a day.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #affc #the princess in the tower #arianne ii