#roderick dustin

[lovl3igh]

call me dramatic but i would also come to die for the dragon queen

#roderick dustin was so real for that #love my winter wolves #i have no choice but to stan #house of the dragon #hotd #fire and blood #rhaenyra targaryen #the rightful queen #winter wolves #roderick dustin

[drakaripykiros130ac]

Gotta love being Team Black 🖤

Not only do they have just cause and great anti-heroes to root for, they also have the coolest allies:

Cregan Stark

Jeyne Arryn

Kermit Tully

Benjicot Blackwood (Bloody Ben)

Roderick Dustin (Roddy the Ruin): “We have come to die for the dragon queen!”

Alysanne Blackwood (Black Aly)

I am even excited to see that bloodthirsty maniac, Dalton Greyjoy, wreak havoc on Lannisport (with how much I despise the Lannisters, I ain’t even sorry. Go Red Kraken! ✊).

Could you repeat what you said, Otto? It was something about how the Realm would not accept Rhaenyra ? To which Realm were you referring to, pray tell? Certainly not the one which holds 53 Houses loyal to a woman.

Stale oaths? Just because the Hightowers and the Lannisters have a reputation of being opportunists and oath-breakers, doesn’t mean other houses are the same.

#team black #house of the dragon #pro team black #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd #queen rhaenyra #kermit tully #cregan stark #alysanne blackwood #black aly #jeyne arryn #dalton greyjoy #anti team green #anti greens #anti team green stans #asoiaf #asoiaf meta #anti otto hightower #roderick dustin #benjicot blackwood

[thenorthsource]

The Winter Wolves, led by Roderick Dustin during the Dance of the Dragons, fought for Rhaenyra Targaryen as part of Lord Cregan Stark’s Pact of Ice and Fire made with Prince Jacearys Velaryon. These were northmen expecting to die while marching for glory, adventure, and plunder as it was the long custom of The North for older men to leave their homes in winter to preserve supplies for younger kin. Two thousand Winter Wolves led the attack at the Battle by the Lakeshore against Lannister spearmen, winning the battle for the Blacks. Next they helped slay Ser Criston Cole’s army in the Butcher’s Ball with their rivermen allies. The remaining wolves, including Roderick, were slain at the First Battle of Tumbleton after being betrayed by Ser Hugh Hammer and Ser Ulf White, but not before Roderick managed to kill Lord Ormund Hightower and his cousin Ser Bryndon Hightower.

#the winter wolves #roderick dustin #asoiaf #asoiafedit #valyrianscrolls #valyriansource #house dustin #pre canon #the dance of dragons #*gifs #ours #thenorthedit #by patrocles

[asongoficeandfiresource]

The World of Fire & Blood Calendar 2023 || The Death of Ser Criston Cole by Hristo Chukov

Calling for a peace banner, King Aegon’s Hand rode out to treat with them. Three came down from the ridge to meet him. Chief amongst them was Ser Garibald Grey in his dented plate and mail. Pate of Longleaf was with him, the Lionslayer who had cut down Jason Lannister, together with Roddy the Ruin, bearing the scars he had taken at the Fishfeed. “If I strike my banners, do you promise us our lives?” Ser Criston asked the three of them. “I made my promise to the dead,” Ser Garibald replied. “I told them I would build a sept for them out of traitors’ bones. I don’t have near enough bones yet, so…” Ser Criston answered, “If there is to be battle here, many of your own will die as well.” The northman Roderick Dustin laughed at these words, saying, “That’s why we come. Winter’s here. Time for us to go. No better way to die than sword in hand.” Ser Criston drew his longsword from its scabbard. “As you will it. We can begin here, the four of us. One of me against the three of you. Will that be enough to make a fight of it?” But Longleaf the Lionslayer said, “I’ll want three more,” and up on the ridge Red Robb Rivers and two of his archers raised their longbows. Three arrows flew across the field, striking Cole in belly, neck, and breast. “I’ll have no songs about how brave you died, Kingmaker,” declared Longleaf. “There’s tens o’ thousands dead on your account.” He was speaking to a corpse. -- Fire and Blood

#criston cole #garibald grey #pate of longleaf #roderick dustin #asoiaf #asoiafedit #asoiaf art #hristo chukov #official art

[stromuprisahat]

Calling for a peace banner, King Aegon’s Hand rode out to treat with them. Three came down from the ridge to meet him. Chief amongst them was Ser Garibald Grey in his dented plate and mail. Pate of Longleaf was with him, the Lionslayer who had cut down Jason Lannister, together with Roddy the Ruin, bearing the scars he had taken at the Fishfeed. “If I strike my banners, do you promise us our lives?” Ser Criston asked the three of them. “I made my promise to the dead,” Ser Garibald replied. “I told them I would build a sept for them out of traitors’ bones. I don’t have near enough bones yet, so…” Ser Criston answered, “If there is to be battle here, many of your own will die as well.” The northman Roderick Dustin laughed at these words, saying, “That’s why we come. Winter’s here. Time for us to go. No better way to die than sword in hand.” Ser Criston drew his longsword from its scabbard. “As you will it. We can begin here, the four of us. One of me against the three of you. Will that be enough to make a fight of it?” But Longleaf the Lionslayer said, “I’ll want three more,” and up on the ridge Red Robb Rivers and two of his archers raised their longbows. Three arrows flew across the field, striking Cole in belly, neck, and breast. “I’ll have no songs about how brave you died, Kingmaker,” declared Longleaf. “There’s tens o’ thousands dead on your account.” He was speaking to a corpse.

Fire and Blood (George R. R. Martin)

#ASoIaF #Fire & Blood #valyrianscrolls #ch: The Dying of the Dragons: Rhaenyra Triumphant #Criston Cole #Garibald Grey #Pate of Longleaf #Roderick Dustin #Red Robb Rivers #Butcher's Ball #Dance of the Dragons #Blacks #V #GRRM #books #quotes #Damn! #How is it that Greens have historians on their side #yet the most badass characters belong to Blacks?!

[horizon-verizon]

Little did Lord Lefford suspect that he would soon face a stiffer test, for an army of fresh foes was descending on them from the north: two thousand savage northmen, flying Queen Rhaenyra’s quartered banners. At their head rode the Lord of Barrowton, Roderick Dustin, a warrior so old and hoary men called him Roddy the Ruin. His host was made up of grizzled greybeards in old mail and ragged skins, every man a seasoned warrior, every man ahorse. They called themselves the Winter Wolves. “We have come to die for the dragon queen,” Lord Roderick announced at the Twins, when Lady Sabitha Frey rode out to greet them.

Fire and Blood by GRRM, pg 458-459

#fire and blood quotes #rhaenyra triumphant #Fire and Blood #sabitha frey #asoiaf quotes #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #Roderick Dustin #roddy the ruin #the winter wolves #lord of barrowton #dying of the dragons #dance of the dragons

[jo-mor]

here’s a real man, jon snow and his north could never

#hotd #house of the dragon #fire and blood #hotd spoilers #roderick dustin #rhaenyra targaryen #house targaryen #daenerys targaryen

[dragon-queensguard]

Anytime I get ready to defend my girls Daenerys or Rhaenyra I go into it thinking of Roderick Dustin’s iconic words: “We have come to die for the dragon queen.”

#ramblings #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #daenerys targeryan #rhaenyra targaryen #Roderick Dustin #like especially with the prequel coming out #I’m ready

[westofessos]

Okay let’s see if I’ve got this straight. As it stands, right now, this is the list of people currently out to get MJF in one way or another:

Roddy & the Kingdom

Bullet Club Gold

Whoever is in the devil mask + their goons

Samoa Joe

Wardlow

Dustin Rhodes

The other 10 guys in the Dynamite Dozen Battle Royale

My poor boy.

His boyfriend needs to dummy up and realize he’s been kidnapped already because Max really needs some help (emotionally at least). Also because if he doesn’t Caster is definitely going to steal his man (and honestly I’m not totally against it. Caster works so hard and Max needs at least 3 guys to help him).

#aew #all elite wrestling #mjf #maxwell jacob friedman #adam cole #better than you bay bay #adamjf #wrestling #bullet club gold #samoa joe #wardlow #dustin rhodes #roderick strong #the kingdom

[thelustybraavosimaid]

"We have come to die for the dragon queen" is one of the bossest lines ever uttered.

#asoiaf #lord roderick dustin #the winter wolves

[garagesesh]

wintering

③ The Battlefields of Good and Evil, Love and Hate, and Husbands and Wives

gif: aemondtargaryensource ↸

pairing(s): aegon ii targaryen & (f!)reader

summary: fire and desolation, love and hate

warning(s): swearing, blood, descriptions of injuries, death, weapons, war

a/n: !!!this story will not be told in chronological order!!! this story is not written as a reader insert but as an OC on my ao3 if you find that format more enjoyable, it's linked below! please be kind, I'm trying to get back into writing after a long sabbatical. I would love to hear your thoughts. Enjoy!

wrote this in an hour, i was probably possessed.

␛ to masterlist | ⎗ wintering masterlist

go to previous chapter ⎗ | go to next chapter ⎘ (coming soon!)

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

The Stark army waited patiently over the side of the hill, hidden from the rest of the raging battle. Eight hundred archers, six hundred calvary, and four thousand foot soldiers waited patiently for the beacon from Lord Stauton and Princess Rhaenys. There were more men waiting, hidden, then there was fighting on the battlefield.

Dragons danced above the smoke covered battlefield that was hidden from Cregan Stark and his men’s view. Red and green intertwined with each other, breathing fire from within their stomachs, aiming to kill.

Since dawn, the greens and blacks had been in battle. The fighting had started a week ago. Ser Criston Cole had mobilized Stokeworth troops after Lord Staunton had refused to bend the knee to the greens. Cole and his men laid siege to the surrounding fields of Rooks Rest, hoping that the elderly lord would surrender.

A raven with the sigil of house Staunton had flown north and east. Cregan and you were already mobilized in Maidenpool, awaiting orders and you had finally received them. Only did you come to find the battle at Rook’s Rest had taken a turn. The Princess Rhaenys had joined the clash on top of Meleys. It was at first, a clear black win. Meleys had obliterated almost half of the greens men, until Aemond and Vhagar had swooped in from out of the smoke.

The Stark army had been given different orders, told to wait and hide from the skirmish to ensure the numbers were stabilized. Rhaenyra Targaryen did not want to be wasteful.

They were now on day three of waiting in the adjacent forest, hidden from aerial view.

Sitting on the horse next to your brother Cregan, working out possible battle strategies if the Stark army were to be called into battle. You had little hope for the Princess and her battalion considering the turn of events with the greens and the length of the battle.

Pouring over maps and strategy meetings fulfilled the seemingly endless days of which you waited.

But this morning felt different.

A horse not belonging to their guards sidled up to Cregan’s. “Lord Stark.”

“Lord Dustin.” He nodded. “Any word from Stauton?”

The older man shook his head. “None.”

Cregan hummed, turning back to the field of ash and smoke. “Anything else?”

“Yes, my Lord.” Lord Roderick Dustin inhaled sharply, a pregnant pause as he looked to the skies then back at them. “A third dragon is flying to join the fray.”

“Is it one of ours?” It was your turn to speak. Vhagar and Meleys had been fighting since the dawn, the larger dragon beginning to gain an advantage over the red queen. Princess Rhaenys was to lose this fight if no help was to show soon. Hoping that it would be Daemon or Jacaerys to support.

“No, my Queen.” Queen. You inhaled, your hands tightening around the reins and your heart fluttering with annoyance at the title. Adamant that you were a Stark to your brother and peers, not a Targaryen, Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms.

You were back in furs, blues, and greys, relinquished of the greens, blacks, and golds. Looking down at the embroidered Direwolf upon your glove, “I’m not a Queen, Lord Dustin.”

“Forgive me, my Lady.”

“It’s quite alright.” You bowed your head.

“The dragon is not one of our own.” He swallowed, the lump in his throat proving hard to get down with his nerves in disarray from the news. He adverted his eyes from you. “They’re saying it’s the green King.”

“What?” Aegon? Aegon was coming? You frowned, looking back at the battlefield then to the blackened sky. “That can’t be true.”

“The scouts have said so.” Lord Dustin was no liar, but he wish he was lying then. For the girl still clearly cared about the mummers King.

“Sister.” Cregan turned. His grey eyes full of care as he searched your usual stoic face now riddled with panic. “We need to ready our men.”

The elder lord looked between the two siblings with worry, before asking for the elders attention again. “There is more, my Lord.”

As Lord Dustin continued with his report of the churning waters of war, you went deaf to his words and Cregan's orders, the sounds of the erupting battle beyond the pines had engulfed you. Your eyes trained towards the skies, waiting for the glint of gold to peek through. Hoping, praying that the scouts report wouldn’t be so.

Then you heard the screech.

The black clouds parted, the wisps of smoke fused into swirls and there he was.

Sunfyre, diving into the dance.

Fucking idiot.

Brash, arrogant, moronic.

The golden dragon entered the battle. Vhagar and Sunfyre commanded by the brothers, breathing fire onto the men and snapping their jaws at Meleys.

A hand rested upon yours. Covering the Direwolf on the dorsal side of your own. “Y/n.”

You were gripping the reins tighter than you had beforehand, your back was bent over the steed in anticipation of cantering towards the ashen fields. The tight, waiting muscles were not able to relax as fire spewed from the dragons. Meleys and Sunfyre dove for each other, wings and talons narrowly missing each other.

Dragon fire seized the forest. The trees ablaze in plumes of orange and yellow. Hissing from the release of moisture.

Cregan begged you to ride away from the edge. “Y/n, we’re heading back to camp.”

That’s when Meleys fired at Sunfyre. Flames engulfed the smaller dragon, the red dragon's talons shredding the golden skin upon its wing, sending it spiraling. Down and down from far beyond the borders of the smoke to the battle below.

Aegon.

Without another beat, you set off. The horse gunned down the hill and in the muddy field heading for the emblazoned forest.

“Lysara!”, Cregan went after you but you were a woman possessed.

You charged forward. Gripping the reins, coaxing the horse faster. Into the pines that were now smoldering with fire. Embers stung your face and the heat burned your eyes as you navigated the steed through the burning forest.

Aegon.

You hurdled over fallen trees, stripped bushes, and steaming creeks. You could see the battlefield, the barbaric clash of men in their respective colors. Greens meshed with black. The golden tint of Sunfyre’s wing came into view, peaking just below the tree line-

The ferocity of the wind from the crashing dragon sent trees barreling down in front of you. The horse jumped up in fear, You gripped the reins, wrapping your arms around the animal's neck in fear, but its force was too much. You went backward, into a smoldering pile of embers. Your hair coated in black ash and your face burning from the fire.

The horse ran off into the flames, you would have to do the rest on foot. Hauling your body, heavy with armor off the ground, you grabbed your bow and quiver that flew off your person.

And ran.

You ran under fallen trees, around the bushes that had become bonfires. The smoke clouded your lungs and your vision became foggy. But you were almost there.

Sunfyre hit the ground with a roar. The dragon was alive but was he?

Aegon.

Your throat burned and tasted of ash as you ran and tripped in the mud. Sunfyre had created a cocoon in the center of the bloody field. Dirt piled in a circle, meters high.

You forgot you wore the Direwolf sigil as you cleared the pines and into the fray.

Aegon.

Your mind had been so entrenched in him that the adrenaline pumping through your veins had made you completely blind to the fact that men came after you with swords, daggers, and spears. A green cavalry soldier took out the black soldier with his spear. One of Staunton’s men threw an axe at the head of a green. Back and forth these exchanges went.

The Gods were on your side it seemed.

You slid down in Sunfyre’s crater. Discarding the bow and quiver. Stumbling over rock and dirt. You tripped and cut your knee on a rock protruding from the ground. Clawing your way to him. He was cradled by Sunfyre underneath a shredded wing.

“Sunfyre-“ You breathed and the dragon complied, revealing him.

“Aegon.” You climbed up the injured dragon and towards your husband.

You ripped off the gloves with your teeth. Soot and dirt covered your face, your singed hair out of its braid. The first thing you noticed was the smell.

Burnt barbecued flesh.

Then his face.

His flesh was discolored and charred on the right side, his silver hair had been burned away to his scalp. He had no brow and the skin began to pucker around his indigo eye that held no white eyelashes. His right ear had become blackened and bubbled at the top. The extent of his burns didn’t end there, they went down his neck and to where his doublet should’ve been. His armor was burnt into the skin on his bicep.

“Aegon.” You whispered, clutching at your chest. Tears spilled from your eyes, stinging from the ash and heat. “Aegon, please. Please don’t die, don't die, please don’t do this to me!”

Ser Criston Cole jumped off his horse, but made no move. Watching from the top of the crater as you ripped off pieces of your half burnt cloak, wrapping the scraps around his mangled arm. Your sobs louder than the battle that still raged on.

“Help!” Your guttural scream through your sobs, had wracked Ser Criston’s core. Your body wailed over Aegon’s. Tears splattered on his burns, smoke rising from where they hit. “Help him!”

“Someone get the medic!” Ser Criston barked at the soldier nearest to him. “Save your King!”

You searched your husband’s face for any sign of life, but Aegon laid still with his eyes closed and mouth ajar. “Don’t you dare do this to me you imbecile!”

Ser Criston was confused at how the woman who had run away from the King was now begging for him to live, but he supposed love worked in mysterious ways.

“My Queen.” He kneeled beside you, his gloves hand reaching for your shoulder.

“Is he dead?! Did I lose him?! Did I lose him?!” You wailed, your eyes bloodshot and glassy. “Did I lose him?”

Ser Criston had no answer but pulled you into his chest, your hands clawing at his collar. Your sobs wracked your entire being, over and over you repeatedly asked if he was gone.

Then the Red Queen fell and with her, Princess Rhaenys.

The Green’s calvary chased after the dragon just beyond Rook’s Rest, no doubt to take the prizes of the first victory. Lord Staunton’s men had been captured, unable to traverse where you had run from. No hope for the black army to retreat to the hidden Stark army. Rook’s Rest itself met fire and desolation, turning it into mere ash.

The medics took Aegon away.

“My Queen.” Ser Criston Cole gently raised your head off of his chest. “Come.”

They operated on Aegon all night. He was alive, they told you, but barely. It wasn’t until dawn when you, who had spent the evening pacing back and forth through the rain in front of the medic tent, was allowed inside.

With tepid steps and an uneasy stomach, you approached your husband.

Afraid to wake him.

His entire right side was wrapped in bandages that were once white. His chest rose and fell with a murmur. You wanted to cry at the sight of him.

Careful, as to not wake him, you reached out slowly and gingerly brushed his hair away from the untouched side of his face. “Aegon.”

His hood brow twitched under your fingers, but he did not wake.

Aegon wouldn’t wake for two weeks.

You had been recaptured by the Greens. Placed under house arrest for the remainder of the war. Whenever that would be.

You spent most of your time in the past two weeks pacing. Back and forth for hours. Sleep never came easy or if at all.

There was no news of the war. No news of Aegon.

You no longer had the ever faithful Ser Marbrand to protect you. Two unknown guards were placed in front of your locked doors. The only ones in and out were the guards and the maids.

You wished Helaena then, to comfort you. She was always good at that. Last you heard she was now on Dragonstone, pregnant with another babe.

Then there was your brother.

What were you thinking?

You had finally escaped only a few moons before. Finally reunited with your brother and Northmen. Relinquished from your mummer’s crown. To be free felt so sweet.

But you let that freedom slip through your own hands. Willingly back in the talons of dragon’s.

The chamber door opened. A face other than a guard or maid peeked through for the first time in a fortnight. “My Queen.”

You scoffed. “Ser Criston.”

“I am here to inform you of the King’s status.”

Your mind went to the worst. Aegon is dead. Succumbed.

“He is awake.” Criston Cole cleared his throat. “He’s been asking for you.”

The weight of the war and constant back and forth of pressure from the two sides. Your abandonment, whether it be back to where you first left, didn’t feel in vain anymore.

He was alive.

“May I see him?” You crossed the room. Taking a deep breath, turning away from the Hand.

“You may.”

You spun, now wide eyed. “When?”

“After you meet with the small council.”

“But you are the Hand!” You could feel your anger rise within.

“And you are a prisoner!” He seethed. “You abandoned your crown. Your husband.”

“You broke oathes! Promises!” You countered. “And now mean to slaughter my family!”

“Your family is slaughtering us!” He slammed his hand on the desk. The sound echoing in the dark chamber. “Your brother has eradicated almost half of our men in the Riverlands!”

You had no answer. Standing lifelessly with your arms by your side.

Rhaenyra is the rightful ruler of Westeros. That was undisputable. Cregan had chosen a side, your father had chosen a side, bending the knee to Rhaenyra. Now his son was fighting for the blacks to uphold the promise.

So many promises.

“One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever”

“You are promised to Prince Aegon.”

“I’ll never leave you.”

“We will come for you in the morrow. Prepare your argument, My Queen.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

␛ to masterlist | ⎗ wintering masterlist

go to previous chapter ⎗ | go to next chapter ⎘ (coming soon!)

⌘ you can find this on my ao3 account!

#wintering #aegon ii targaryen x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen #aegon ii x you #aegon ii fic #aegon x reader #asoiaf #fanfic #fic

[drakaripykiros130ac]

“When Prince Daemon sent forth his call to arms, they rose up all along the rivers, knights and men-at-arms and humble peasants who yet remembered the Realm's Delight, so beloved of her father, and the way she smiled and charmed them as she made her progress through the Riverlands in her youth. Hundreds and then thousands buckled on their swordbelts and donned their mail, or grabbed a pitchfork or a hoe and a crude wooden shield, and began to make their way to Harrenhal to fight for Viserys's little girl."

- Fire & Blood, GRRM

Rhaenyra is not the “Realm’s Delight” for nothing.

Daemon is not the “Prince of the City” for nothing.

I can’t wait to see the Riverlords rise up for their Queen.

The Starks will call the banners.

Lady Jeyne Arryn will show the Realm what a woman at the helm of a Great House can do.

The Winter Wolves!

I said it once and I will say it again: the Blacks have the best/coolest allies, who fight for Queen Rhaenyra and then for her heir, the future Aegon III.

More than half the Realm sided with our Black Queen.

Roderick Dustin: “We have come to die for the dragon queen!”

The greens will be introduced to something they can never comprehend: pure loyalty.

#house of the dragon #team black #rhaenyra targaryen #pro team black #hotd #queen rhaenyra #daemon targaryen #pro daemon targaryen #rhaenyra x daemon #house of the dragon season 2 #house stark #house arryn #house tully #cregan stark #kermit tully #jeyne arryn #the black queen #canon asoiaf #asoiaf #asoiaf meta #the blacks #daemyra #daemyra supremacy #fire and blood #pact of ice and fire #rhaenyra i #team rhaenyra #the realms delight #hotd season 2 #aegon iii targaryen

[thedaringknight]

criston's death and daeron's revenge.

Whatever the reason, Ser Criston and Prince Aemond decided to part ways. Cole would take command of their host and lead them south to join Ormund Hightower and Prince Daeron, but the Prince Regent would not accompany them.

Fire and Blood, The Dying of The Dragons - Rhaenyra Triumphant, p. 474.

“Who are they?” a squire asked when the foe appeared, for they showed no arms but the queen’s.

“Our death,” answered Ser Criston Cole, for these foes were fresh, better fed, better horsed, better armed, and they held the high ground, whilst his own men were stumbling, sick, and dispirited.

Calling for a peace banner, King Aegon’s Hand rode out to treat with them. Three came down from the ridge to meet him. Chief amongst them was Ser Garibald Grey in his dented plate and mail. Pate of Longleaf was with him, the Lionslayer who had cut down Jason Lannister, together with Roddy the Ruin, bearing the scars he had taken at the Fishfeed. “If I strike my banners, do you promise us our lives?” Ser Criston asked the three of them.

“I made my promise to the dead,” Ser Garibald replied. “I told them I would build a sept for them out of traitors’ bones. I don’t have near enough bones yet, so…”

Ser Criston answered, “If there is to be battle here, many of your own will die as well.” The northman Roderick Dustin laughed at these words, saying, “That’s why we come. Winter’s here. Time for us to go. No better way to die than sword in hand.”

Ser Criston drew his longsword from its scabbard. “As you will it. We can begin here, the four of us. One of me against the three of you. Will that be enough to make a fight of it?”

But Longleaf the Lionslayer said, “I’ll want three more,” and up on the ridge Red Robb Rivers and two of his archers raised their longbows. Three arrows flew across the field, striking Cole in belly, neck, and breast. “I’ll have no songs about how brave you died, Kingmaker,” declared Longleaf. “There’s tens o’ thousands dead on your account.” He was speaking to a corpse.

p. 486, 487.

"Fresh from their victory at the Butcher’s Ball came Ser Garibald Grey and Longleaf the Lionslayer, with the head of Ser Criston Cole upon a spear, Red Robb Rivers and his archers, the last of the Winter Wolves (...)"

p. 492.

Tumbleton went up in flame: shops, homes, septs, people, all. Men fell burning from gatehouse and battlements, or stumbled shrieking through the streets like so many living torches. Outside the walls, Prince Daeron swooped down upon Tessarion. Pate of Longleaf was unhorsed and trampled, Ser Garibald Grey pierced by a crossbow bolt, then engulfed by dragonflame.

p. 495.

#criston was on his way to meet daeron and the hightower host when he died #red robb is never mentioned again after tumbleton so that's probably a rip as well #daeron the daring #daeron targaryen #criston cole #house of the dragon #hotd #quotes #daringposting

[starogeorgina]

My top 10 favourite quotes from F&B

10. “There will be no progress. I will not spend a year upon a horse, sleeping in strange beds and trading empty courtesies with drunken lords, half of whom would gladly see me dead if it gained them a groat. If any man requires words with me, he will find me on the Iron Throne.” — Aegon iii Targaryen

9. “Dark Sister was made for nobler tasks than slaughtering sheep. She has a thirst for blood.” — Daemon Targaryen

8. “Our uncle calls us Strongs, and claims we are bastards, but when the lords see us on dragonback they will know that for a lie. Only Targaryens ride dragons.” — Lucerys Velaryon

7. “l'II have no songs about how brave you died, Kingmaker. There's tens o' thousands dead on your account.” — Pate of Longleaf

6. “We have come to die for the dragon queen.” — Roderick Dustin

5. “An eye for an eye, a son for a son. Lucerys shall be avenged.” — Daemon Targaryen I'm not saying I agree with anything that happens next (B&C), but for me, this is the moment the dance of the dragons truly starts.

4. “I fed my last husband to my dragon. If you make me take another, I may eat him myself.” — Rhaena Targaryen

3. “Small boys become large men in time, and a babe sucks down his mother's hate with his mother's milk. Finish these foes now, or those of us not in our graves in twenty years will rue our folly when those babes strap on their father's swords and come seeking after vengeance.” — Cregan Stark

2. “You may burn us, my lady, but you will not bend us, break us or make us bow. This is Dorne, you are not wanted here. Return at your peril!” — Meria Martell

1. “A ruler needs a good head and a true heart. A cock is not essential. If your Grace truly believes that women lack the wit to rule, plainly you have no further need of me.” — Alysanne Targaryen

#fire and blood #top 10 #asoiaf #fire and blood quotes #asoiaf thoughts

[horizon-verizon]

All this was but prelude, for the Lords of the Trident had been gathering their forces. When Ser Criston left the lake behind, striking out overland for the Blackwater, he found them waiting atop a stony ridge; three hundred mounted knights in armor, as many longbowmen, three thousand archers, three thousand ragged rivermen with spears, hundreds of northmen brandishing axes, mauls, spiked maces, and ancient iron swords. Above their heads flew Queen Rhaenyra’s banners. “Who are they?” a squire asked when the foe appeared, for they showed no arms but the queen’s. “Our death,” answered Ser Criston Cole, for these foes were fresh, better fed, better horsed, better armed, and they held the high ground, whilst his own men were stumbling, sick, and dispirited.  Calling for a peace banner, King Aegon’s Hand rode out to treat with them. Three came down from the ridge to meet him. Chief amongst them was Ser Garibald Grey in his dented plate and mail. Pate of Longleaf was with him, the Lionslayer who had cut down Jason Lannister, together with Roddy the Ruin, bearing the scars he had taken at the Fishfeed. “If I strike my banners, do you promise us our lives?” Ser Criston asked the three of them. “I made my promise to the dead,” Ser Garibald replied. “I told them I would build a sept for them out of traitors’ bones. I don’t have near enough bones yet, so…” Ser Criston answered, “If there is to be battle here, many of your own will die as well.” The northman Roderick Dustin laughed at these words, saying, “That’s why we come. Winter’s here. Time for us to go. No better way to die than sword in hand.” Ser Criston drew his longsword from its scabbard. “As you will it. We can begin here, the four of us. One of me against the three of you. Will that be enough to make a fight of it?” But Longleaf the Lionslayer said, “I’ll want three more,” and up on the ridge Red Robb Rivers and two of his archers raised their longbows. Three arrows flew across the field, striking Cole in belly, neck, and breast. “I’ll have no songs about how brave you died, Kingmaker,” declared Longleaf. “There’s tens o’ thousands dead on your account.” He was speaking to a corpse.

Fire and Blood, by George R.R. Martin, pg 475-476

#butcher's ball #criston's death #fire and blood quotes #fire and blood #ser criston cole #criston cole #dance of the dragons #dying of the dragons #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #garibald grey #roderick dustin #red robb rivers #pate of longleaf #longleaf the lionslayer

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 48

Cw: Butcher’s Ball, childbirth complications, hallucinations, attempted murder

Gif by @daemonsdarksister

Taglist @mercedesdecorazon @alexandria-millie @watercolorskyy @darylandbethfanforever9 @ewanmitchellcrumbs

Their men were laid out as if they had been killed at a feast.

They have been like that in every village they have marched through these four days.

A grotesque thing Aemond is glad he isn’t walking through.

Because his mission is of great urgency, he attacks only if he must. House Darry folds at the sight of him and Lady Darry tearfully asks him to spare her infant son after Criston obliterated her husband and eldest sons in battle when they first marched out of Kingslanding.

Criston’s hand shook as if remembering an ill prophecy and agreed no harm will come to those who surrendered.

Something he hadn’t done when they set out. Had the chill of the Stranger in the air caught to him too?

Crossed Elms proves that nagging feeling right.

Their enemy had more men, fresh horses and every advantage they lacked.

Save for a dragon.

Archers attack them in woods unknown to them, Aemond is not spared as he tries to evade them in the air.

Vhagar’s too large and old to perform like a younger and sleeker dragon.

And they knew that.

So he and Cole call for a parley, just enough to buy them time.

“If I strike my banners, do you promise us our lives?” he asked the three of them.

Three seasoned and grizzly commanders, such men bore scars and dents in their armor enough to make Cole look green as grass.

Aemond felt like a squire pretending to be a man. Like the little boy who used to wear Daemon’s winged helm as he stand before Ser Garibald Grey, Pate of Longleaf ,now called Longleaf the Lionslayer, and Rodrick ‘Roddy the Ruin’ Dustin.

Men who won the Fishfeed with only their wits and skill.

They have no chance against them even with Vhagar.

“I made my promise to the dead,” Ser Garibald replied. “I told them I would build a sept for them out of traitors’ bones. I don’t have near enough bones yet, so…”

No.

They choose to fight on knowing their victory is assured.

If he dies he will die with Aemma’s name in his lips, like all the knights in the songs.

Ser Criston answered, “If there is to be battle here, many of your own will die as well.”

The Northman, Roderick Dustin, laughed at his words, saying, “That’s why we come. Winter’s here. Time for us to go. No better way to die than sword in hand.”

Ser Criston drew his longsword from its scabbard. “As you will it. We can begin here, the four of us. One of me against the three of you. Will that be enough to make a fight of it?”

It won’t, they won’t give in. They know better than to let them live.

So Aemond interrupts with the thing that may make them change their mind.

“The King is dying, our mother’s own cupbearer poisoned him after her brother failed to kill me. Queen Aemma, the queen you fight to liberate is nearing her time. If you let us go you have my word that her son will be named king and I will not move a finger to take what is hers by right.” The prince regent said hoping to make them change their minds.

“We know, we took down your ravens and your riders. The question is, how do you know that?” Red Robb Rivers and his sister, Alysanne Blackwood, asked coming down the ridge with their archers.

Oh, they were fucked.

“Dragon Dreams, I have been plagued by them for the past five nights. The king in his bed weak by the poison and the queen in hers as she brings forth her babe.” He lies. Better blame his Valyrian blood than tell them the witch is in his mother’s employ. “For all I know both my brother and his wife are already dead and the babe with them.”

The men are divided about it, but those of the north, especially the silver haired Crannogman with eyes as green as Vhagar’s flames seem to believe him.

“The First Men have Seers too. You may go, but only you.” Roddy the Ruin said, thank the gods for the Northman and their superstitions.

“Go, your brother needs you more than I.” Criston said as Aemond looked at him for the last time. “Godspeed, your highness.”

Vhagar is scarcely in the air when what’s left of their men and the Lord Commander are killed by a rain of arrows.

Garibald Grey would later call it Butcher’s Ball.

The babe is taking its sweet time to come.

The queen has been in labor for a day, and the midwives and maesters are close to giving up.

She has walked up and down the hall, she has been given castor oil, she has been moved by the midwives on the blanket and nothing is working.

“There is a way.” A maester suggested as Silverwing echoes her rider’s scream.

There is no real need for it, not yet.

But the queen knows the whore is the reason her son is half dead in his bed.

If she’s gone, Aegon will live and so would her two younger sons.

The only way her family is safe is if all of Rhaenyra’s family is dead.

They see will see you as you are, the dead princess whispers behind her as blood runs down Alicent’s hands.

Yes, they will, they will see a mother who would do anything for her children, the queen bites her tongue lest they think her mad.

Her aunt went mad, Denyse who was committed to the Motherhouse for fear of shaming them.

They would lock her up too ,if they knew.

“No. We cannot.” Gerardys and Orywle are of the same mind on this.

If she dies any chance for peace is gone.

If she dies like her namesake did, Aegon will be known as her killer.

But her family will be safe from her and that is all that matters.

Queen Alicent chooses to override them. “The king’s heir is at risk, if we wait longer both she and the babe will be lost.

If we must choose, we need to choose the king’s son over his mother.”

There is clear horror in their faces as she says this.

Even Alys cannot hide it in hers.

“Your grace, will you not reconsider it?” the aging midwife pleaded with her. The same woman who helped bring Aemma into the world now being told to help them take her out of it.

“If we do not decide now---” the queen pretended to care for her gooddaughter's wellbeing and yet she is interrupted by the all too familiar roar.

Aemond.

She had told Alys not to summon Aemond, why had she gone against her wishes?

If he is here he will choose her.

How can she save her family if they refuse to let her?

“Maester Orwyle, do what you must to save the prince.” The queen ordered and the man did as ordered.

He can hear screams, those of his men and Aemma’s in Silverwing’s roars ringing in his ears as he rides his coal black horse like a madman.

Aegon was weak but not dying, Aemma was having trouble delivering their babe.

His mother had ordered for them to save the babe at the cost of it’s mother.

This was the news he received the moment he arrived.

We have lost the Riverlands, was all he had to say in turn.

It would be a mercy if Aegon died now.

If Aemma died with their babe, Joffrey would be made king with his Lady of Runestone beside him. Nothing would stop Daemon from burning the city to the ground nor his men from sacking it.

If Aegon died, but Aemma lived, Aemond would be king and have the upperhand in negotiations.

There would be other children and even if she is left barren she had three brothers and two cousins to provide heirs for House Targaryen.

They would wed and all will be righted before winter sets in.

“Whatever you do, save the queen.” He orders as he raced against time.

It helped both were in the same suite of rooms saving him the trouble of having to choose which bedside he goes to.

Her screams bring a chill to his bones not unlike Criston’s and his men’s.

“If you fail to save the queen I will kill all of you myself.” Aemond runs to her instead of his brother.

Aemma cries out for him, covered in sweat, blood and tears.

They were going to cut her open. Mother had given the order.

The moment Aemma is safe, he will have her placed under custody.

His mother had very knowingly committed treason, but that look in her eyes speaks of madness.

Madness he’s never seen before.

“I’m here, Aemee, I’m here.” The prince takes her sweat covered hand and kissed it as if it would will her to keep fighting. “You can’t leave , not when I’ve only just returned, sweet girl.”

His reputation be damned, he won’t leave her and he won’t let his mother kill her.

#aemma velaryon #aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc #aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader #aemond targaryen x oc #all is bliss (in the court of aemma the great) #all is bliss(in the court of aemma the great) fic