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likecanyoujustnot · 2 months

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Cardan’s letters pov

Part 6: Jude

A/n: i wish holly hadve just had Asha put the letters in like a drawer and not burnt them because cardan really put his heart and soul into these letters

Part 5

I’d gone through an entire bottle of wine in the past hour. Plus whatever I’d had at dinner. I’d sworn I would drink as much after I became king.

The bomb had had one glass.

She looked at me with so much pity in her eyes I knew I must look like shit.

Another week had gone by with no correspondence from Jude. Not even a threat or anything to tell me she wasn’t coming back.

Just… nothing.

And it was killing me.

The bomb had been doing her usual routine spying from the rafters, keeping a special eye out for the ghost and anyone who worked for Madoc.

And upon seeing me absolutely wasted she’d taken me back to my room, where I’d proceeded to open another bottle.

“Why won’t she come home?” God I sounded pathetic.

She shrugged. “How am I supposed to know?”

“You’re her friend. You know how she works.”

“And so do you. You’re her… whatever.” Husband. The word meant nothing if no one but us knew. “You’ve known her longer than I have.”

And yet, I didn’t know why she stayed away.

“I just want her back.”

The bomb’s gaze softened, just a bit. “Maybe you shouldn’t’ve exiled her.”

“She killed my brother.”

“And yet you still want her back.”

“I don’t care about the brother part, it’s that if I hadn’t, Orlagh could’ve demanded a much higher price.” I took another gulp of the wine. “Her life.”

The bomb grabbed the glass from my hand. “No more of this. Don’t look at me like that, can’t have Jude back if you drink yourself to death.”

As much as I hated to admit it, she was right.

“You should get some sleep.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because you are my king, and I can’t have you acting like this.”

“You never cared before.” I leaned back on the couch and surveyed the spy.

“Jude was here before.”

“My every minute of existence does not revolve around her.”

She looked at me, as though I had found a way to lie. But it wasn’t a lie, otherwise I couldn’t have said it. My sleeping minutes didn’t revolve around her. Technicalities.

“You keep telling yourself that. The denial is so strong you can even convince yourself that’s true.”

“What do you mean?”

She leaned forward, forearms on her knees. “You, High King Cardan, in love with your mortal seneschal, Jude Duarte.”

She was good. And right. I couldn’t deny it, and the bomb knew that judging by the massive smile on her face.

“What do you know of love?”

“More than you’d think.” There was a sorrow in her voice. “But I do know you stare at Jude when you think no one is looking, you have been miserable since she left. You yearn for her presence, for her to be with you and it kills you that she’s not here.”

Damn.

“What about you and the roach?”

Her smile dropped a fraction. “That is none of your concern.”

“Well then my relationships shouldn’t be any of yours.”

There was a pause, she sighed. “Look at us, the king of elfhame and his spy, sharing our miserable lives full of unrequited love.”

I sat up. “You think she doesn’t feel the same?”

She shrugged and took a sip from the wine glass she’d removed from me. “Jude’s mind works in strange ways, but then again so does yours.” She laughed. “Exile the woman you love, great idea, what could possibly go wrong?”

I scowled and she laughed again. “You can’t even deny you love her.”

“We’ve established that.”

“That’s what makes it funny.”

“Not to me.”

She shrugged again. “She definitely feels something for you, I saw the hurt in her eyes that day on the beach. Probably would’ve pained her less had you stabbed her in the stomach.”

Screw it. “We’re ma-”

There was a knock on the door. And the bomb got up to answer it.

I couldn’t hear the hushed words exchanged. I’d been so close to telling her the truth. Jude was queen. Her queen. My queen. And my wife.

The bomb came back and grabbed her cloak, calling over her shoulder. “There’s been an issue with some of our spies, I have to go take care of it. Don’t drink anymore.”

As if I would listen to her.

Everyone said alcohol was bad for you, but I was the high king, I was stronger and more powerful than the average faerie. And it numbed the pain.

That’s what I told myself as I went through another bottle.

I woke up, head pounding and wanting to throw up. How much did I drink?

At least I was in my bed, nothing but a pair of pants on.

There were three empty bottles on the table outside my bed chamber. So I’d had two once the bomb left. Not as many as I feared.

There was a note on the table, from the bomb?

No, it was in my handwriting.

One word.

Over and over again.

Until it got to the second last, which was different.

JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE

please Jude.

There were a few ink splatters on the page. Giving the intention drunk me had pressed too hard with the quill.

Seeing it brought back the memory of when we’d been in the court of shadows after the coronation.

When she’d questioned me about finding it in my room.

I didn’t ask how she’d found it, or why she’d been in my room. I didn’t care. And I didn’t care now. I just cared that she wasn’t here.

I didn’t even put on a shirt as I walked out of my room.

“This letter gets to Jude Duarte, or I will personally see your demise.”

The man looked at me, fear in his eyes as he took me in. Mad gilt in my eyes, no shirt, undoubtedly smelling of wine. He grabbed the letter and ran off.

I went back to my room.

I’d barely slammed the door shut before I’d collapsed against it, head in my hands.

How had I gotten here?

Someone knocked on the door.

A deep rumbling voice reached me, muffled through the door. “Your majesty.”

“Go away.” I hissed.

“I’m afraid it’s urgent.” The fool didn’t even hesitate.

“It. Can. Wait.”

“Taryn Duarte is here to see you.”

“She can wait too.”

“She says her husband is dead.”

I flung open the door.

“What?”

I’m done!!

I’m not sure if I should write the trial from Cardan’s pov?

Or do smth manorian

Idk

Give me ideas

#cardans letters pov #the cruel prince #cardan greenbriar #the queen of nothing #queen of nothing #jude duarte #jurdan #jurdan fanfic #the folk of the air #folk of the air

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northirish · 25 days

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Hey Mike you should drink some water today! Big font! 💧

I, Settra, the Great King, the Imperishable, Khemrikhara, The Great King of Nehekhara, King of Kings, Opener of the Way, Wielder of the Divine Flame, Punisher of Nomads, The Great Unifier, Commander of the Golden Legion, Sacred of Appearance, Bringer of Light, Father of Hawks, Builder of Cities, Protector of the Two Worlds, Keeper of the Hours, Chosen of Ptra, High Steward of the Horizon, Sailor of the Great Vitae, Sentinel of the Two Realms, The Undisputed, Begetter of the Begat, Scourge of the Faithless, Carrion-feeder, First of the Charnel Valley, Rider of the Sacred Chariot, Vanquisher of Vermin, Champion of the Death Arena, Mighty Lion of the Infinite Desert, Emperor of the Shifting Sands, He Who Holds The Sceptre, Great Hawk Of The Heavens, Arch-Sultan of Atalan, Waker of the Hierotitan, Monarch of the Sky, Majestic Emperor of the Shifting Sands, Champion of the Desert Gods, Breaker of the Ogre Clans, Builder of the Great Pyramid, Terror of the Living, Master of the Never-Ending Horizon, Master of the Necropolises, Taker of Souls, Tyrant to the Foolish, Bearer of Ptra's Holy Blade, Scion of Usirian, Scion of Nehek, The Great, Chaser of Nightmares, Keeper of the Royal Herat, Founder of the Mortuary Cult, Banisher of the Grand Hierophant, High Lord Admiral of the Deathfleets, Guardian of the Charnal Pass, Tamer of the Liche King, Unliving Jackal Lord, Dismisser of the Warrior Queen, Charioteer of the Gods, He Who Does Not Serve, Slayer off Reddittras, Scarab Purger, Favoured of Usirian, Player of the Great Game, Liberator of Life, Lord Sand, Wrangler of Scorpions, Emperor of the Dunes, Eternal Sovereign of Khemri's Legions, Seneschal of the Great Sandy Desert, Curserer of the Living, Regent of the Eastern Mountains, Warden of the Eternal Necropolis, Herald of all Heralds, Caller of the Bitter Wind, God-Tamer, Master of the Mortis River, Guardian of the Dead, Great Keeper of the Obelisks, Deacon of the Ash River, Belated of Wakers, General of the Mighty Frame, Summoner of Sandstorms, Master of all Necrotects, Prince of Dust, Tyrant of Araby, Purger of the Greenskin Breathers, Killer of the False God's Champions, Tyrant of the Gold Dunes, Golden Bone Lord, Avenger of the Dead, Carrion Master, Eternal Warden of Nehek's Lands, Breaker of Djaf's Bonds… and many, many more titles… Do not need water, I look great.

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judeswife-panini · 2 months

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fanfic friday: tfota edition

The Sticky Ficky by skye_42

Summary: Cardan Greenbriar, High King of Elfhame, discovers a brand new way to annoy his Seneschal. War is coming to Elfhame, or at least to these two.

Tags: Crack, literally just a crack fic, im here for laughs, Cardan Greenbriar discovers sticky hands, starts post TCP pre TWK, imma lure y’all into a false sense of security, then hit you with angst when you least expect, I know the name is terrible but it’s what I call it on tumblr, and I’m actually a fan of it, The Great Sticky Hands War, Smut, Fluff and Smut, yes I literally put sticky hand induced smut, im sorry, no I’m not, ok maybe yes I am, Angst, theres the angst, im feeding myself so motherfucking well yall, Oh shit now we have ~healing~, this was never anything but self indulgent

Words: 17823 Chapters: 10/?

this is actually one of the best fics i've ever read in my life. hands down. i love it so much. its unfinished but do not let that stop you because the words in this thing are put together very nicely and they make you feel emotion and wowowowow. read it!!

(p.s. i think this author is on tumblr but i cant find them, so if y'all know who they are i would greatly appreciate it <3)

#fanfic friday #fanfic friday: tfota edition #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jurdan #jude x cardan #tfota #the folk of the air #holly black

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clockworkbee · 3 months

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1989 tv as Jude x Cardan’s version

♪ Slut! ♪

Cardan Got lovestruck, went straight to my head,

Jude, Cardan thought, hating even the shape of her name. Jude. —how the king of elfhame learned to hate stories: the prince of elfhame is mildly inconvenienced

Jude Got lovesick, all over my bed / Love to think you'll never forget.

Back in bed, I push aside the curtain and let the sunlight spill in, brighter than any lamp. I take the folded-up paper from behind my pillow. Smoothing it out, I see Cardan’s furious, arrogant handwriting scrawled over the page, taking up all available space. In some places, he pressed the nib so angrily that the paper tore. Her brows knit together. Jude, it reads, each hateful rendering of my name like a punch to the gut. —the cruel prince, chapter 14

Cardan Lovelorn and nobody knows, Jude Love thorns all over this rose.

I flattered myself that at moments you had feelings for me other than contempt, but even were that true, they would be but watered wine beside the feast of your other, greater desires. —the queen of nothing exclusive editions: Cardan’s letters to Jude

You love him, too, I think. You’ve loved him since before you were a prisoner of the Undersea. You loved him when you agreed to marry him. Once this is over, I will find the bravery to tell him. —the queen of nothing, chapter 22

Jude But if I'm all dressed up, Cardan They might as well be looking at us.

This mortal was a girl, dressed in gloves and a long gown that appeared like the sky at night. She was of medium height, with hair the ted-brown of a willow tree. She had soft features and the solid grace of someone used living in her body. An acrobat, perhaps. Or a soldier. The tail faerie boy who held her in his arms had a mess of black hair. His cheeks were painted in silver, his eyes edged in black kohl, and he looked drunk, his crown askew. The girl was glaring at him, and Kaye wondered how they wound up dancing together. Then she noticed the way he was looking at her. But that made things even more puzzling. —a visit to the impossible lands, the cruel prince bonus story

Jude And if they call me a slut, You know it might be worth it for once

“Is this really what you wanted? Him?” —the wicked king, chapter 7

But we all know what you lost.” “Locke?” I laugh. “Good riddance.” Her brows knit together. “Surely it’s not the High King himself you were gazing at.” —the wicked king, chapter 8

I’m there to whisper my counsel in his ear, as any seneschal might. The difference is that he must listen to me. And if he whispers back a few horrific insults, well, at least he’s forced to whisper. —the wicked king, chapter 1

Cardan And if I'm gonna be drunk, Might as well be drunk in love.

“Yes, my sweet villain, my darling god. I will be as sober as a stone carving, just as soon as I can.” And with that, he kisses me on the mouth. I feel a cacophony of things at once. I am furious with him, furious and resigned that he is a failure as High King, corrupt and fanciful and as weak as Orlagh could have hoped. Then there is the public nature of the kiss, parading this before the Court is shocking, too. He’s never been willing to seem to want me in public. Perhaps he can take it back, but in this moment, it is known. But there is also a weakness in me, because I dreamed of him kissing me for all my time in the Undersea, and now with his mouth on mine, I want to sink my nails into his back. His tongue brushes my lower lip, the taste heady and familiar. Wraithberry. He’s not drunk; he’s been poisoned. —the wicked king, chapter 27

Jude Send the code, he's waiting there, The sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air

I realize what’s happening a moment too late. A note told the Court of an assassination attempt, and the Bomb went looking for an assassin. She found someone hiding in the shadows with a weapon. Someone who had every reason to want to kill the king: me. // I feel a guard’s hand close on my arm. Then Cardan’s voice comes. “Do not touch her.” A terrible silence follows. I wait for him to pronounce judgment on me. Whatever he commands will be done. His power is absolute. I don’t even have the strength to fight back “Whatever can you mean?” Randalin says. “She’s—” “She is my wife,” Cardan says, his voice carrying over the crowd. “The rightful High Queen of Elfhame. And most definitely not in exile.” The shocked roar of the crowd rolls around me, but none of them are more shocked than I am. —the queen of nothing, chapter 16

Cardan The wrong place at the right time

I keep thinking of the steady way he looked at me when we were both naked, before he pulled on his shirt and fastened those elegant cuffs. We should have called truce, he’d said, brushing back his ink-black hair impatiently. We should have called truce long before this. But neither of us called it, not then, not after. Jude, he’d said, running a hand up my calf, are you afraid of me? I clear my throat, forcing the memories away. “I command you not to allow yourself to be alone from tonight’s sundown to tomorrow’s sunup.” He draws back, as though bitten. He no longer expects me to deliver orders in this high-handed way, as though I don’t trust him. The High King of Elfhame makes a shallow bow. “Your wish—no, strike that. Your command is my command,” he says. I cannot look at him as he goes out. I am a coward. —the wicked king, chapter 21

“I hate you. You sent me into exile. Everything you say to me, everything you promise, it’s all a trick. And I, stupid enough to believe you once.” The sheathed knife slides easily to my hand. “Of course it was a trick—” he begins, then sees the weapon and bites off whatever he was about to say. —the queen of nothing, chapter 7

“It’s you I love,” he says. “I spent much of my life guarding my heart. I guarded it so well that I could behave as though I didn’t have one at all. Even now, it is a shabby, worm-eaten, and scabrous thing. But it is yours.” He walks to the door to the royal chambers, as though to end the conversation. “You probably guessed as much,” he says. “But just in case you didn’t.” He opens the door to prevent me from responding. Abruptly, we are no longer alone. Fand and the rest of our guard stand ready in the hall, with the Living Council waiting impatiently beside them. —the queen of nothing, chapter 22

Jude And I break down, then he's pullin' me in, Cardan In a world of boys, he's a gentleman.

I am on the High King’s enormous bed, bleeding on his majestically appointed coverlets. Everything hurts. There’s a hot, raw pain in my belly, and my head is pounding. Cardan stands over me. His jacket is thrown on a nearby chair, the velvet soaked through with some dark substance. His white sleeves are rolled up, and he’s washing my hands with a wet cloth. Getting the blood off them. —the queen of nothing, chapter 17

He’s every bit as terrifying as any serpent. I don’t care. I run into his arms. —the queen of nothing, chapter 26

Cardan’s fingers dig into my back. He’s trembling, and whether it is from ebbing magic or horror, I am not sure. But he holds me as though I am the only solid thing in the world. —the queen of nothing, chapter 27

Jude This is luxury / You're not saying you're in love with me / But you're going to.

I let go of him and remain standing. I promised myself I would do this, if I ever had the chance again. I promised I would do this the first moment I could. “I love you,” I say, the words coming out in an unintelligible rush. Cardan looks taken aback. Or possibly I spoke so fast he’s not even sure what I said. —the queen of nothing, chapter 27

Cardan and Jude: Half awake, Taking your chance, It's a big mistake, I said it might blow up in your pretty face, I'm not saying do it anyway, But you're going to.

“Hear my judgment,” Cardan says, authority ringing in his voice. “I hereafter exile Jude Duarte to the mortal world until such time as she is pardoned by the crown. Until then, let her not step one foot in Faerie or forfeit her life.” I gasp. “But you can’t do that!” He looks at me for a long moment, but his gaze is mild, as though he’s expecting me to be fine with exile. As though I am nothing more than one of his petitioners. As though I am nothing at all. “Of course I can,” he replies. “But I’m the Queen of Faerie,” I shout, and for a moment, there is silence. Then everyone around me begins to laugh. I can feel my cheeks heat. Tears of frustration and fury prick my eyes as, a beat too late, Cardan laughs with them. At that moment, knights clap their hands on my wrists. Sir Rannoch pulls me down from the horse. For a mad moment I consider fighting him as though two dozen knights aren’t around us. “Deny it then,” I yell. “Deny me!” He cannot, of course, so he does not. Our eyes meet, and the odd smile on his face is clearly meant for me. —the wicked king, chapter 30

“I need something from you,” I tell Severin. He makes his bow. “Of course, my queen. Whatever is mine is yours.” // You already know how to end the curse. “I do love you,” I whisper. “I will always love you.” I tuck the golden bridle into my belt. Two paths are before me, but only one leads to victory. But I don’t want to win like this. Perhaps I will never live without fear, perhaps power will slip from my grasp, perhaps the pain of losing him will hurt more than I can bear. And yet, if I love him, there’s only one choice. —the queen of nothing, chapters 25 // 26

Jurdan And if I'm gonna be drunk / Might as well be drunk in love.

“I knew little else, but I always knew you.” And when he kisses me, I feel as though I can finally breathe again. —the queen of nothing, chapter 27

more 1989/tfota posts on #1989 tv as jude and cardan’s version tag

#1989 tv as Jude and Cardan’s version #jurdan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #the wicked king #queen of nothing #htkoelths #the folk of the air #tfota #holly black #slut!#1989 tv #1989 taylor's version #taylor swift #tfota + lyrics

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glorfindel-of-imladris · 1 month

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For the bird asks: 🦜🐧🦩

Thank you kindly!💕

🦜 a pretty quote (you like the prose, or symbolism, or it's poetic, or you just like how it feels/the word choice!)

"Do you not think this is enough!"

Voice carries well in the hills around Mandos. Fingon's own echoes back to him even as he pushes on.

"Maedhros!" he cries, for all that any could hear. "I have spent a lifetime watching you bound to an oath from which you have long wanted to be free! Am I to spend another lifetime watching you bound again?"

The quiet around the misty hills is all that answers him.

"Maitimo..."

The old name escapes him, one Maedhros has shunned since his torment, but one Fingon has ever kept in his heart, buried, but used fondly still, in the secrets of his mind whenever he thinks of the other. For despite the irreversible marks and scars of Thangorodrim, Maedhros was still the most beautiful to him.

🐧 a funny quote (silly! laughs! jokes! puns!)

"My High King Fingon," said the seneschal who greeted him. "What a surprise. To what do we owe this unannounced pleasure—again?"

The High King grinned up from where he was standing at the foot of the stairs in Himring. "Erestor, old friend, you would not believe this. We were out hunting, as you do, but I seem to have lost my hunting party."

"Deliberately?"

"Dear heavens, no. What in Arda would make you think that?"

"Ah, then, I beg your pardon, Sire. If I may ask, how is it that you have strayed this far from Hithlum?"

"My party and I were hunting for elks."

"There are no elks in Hithlum?"

"There is better game here, obviously."

"Obviously." A long pause. A sigh. "I shall inform Lord Maedhros that you are here.”

🦩dealer's choice (choose any quote at all! or the summary / ao3 tags thing! whatever! wild card!).

"You have got to be kidding me."

Glorfindel smiled an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid not," he said. "Being called suddenly is not unusual. I have spent many moons in Lothlórien like this before."

"Yes, but… now?" Surely, he must know. “Glorfindel. You do realise that you are leaving me with— with—”

“Erestor?”

“Your husband!”

Glorfindel tipped his head and glanced behind Ecthelion, to where the man in question was still asleep—in Ecthelion's bed. “Shall I take him back to our rooms? Although I must warn you, he will not like that. He did always say he needs to sleep in after a thorough fu—”

“Glorfindel.” Ecthelion took a deep breath. “Last night happened—with the three of us. Yes? I think this day it should be us three still. Alcohol was involved, you see, which unfortunately passes the next day as many good things do. What am I to do when he wakes? As recent as the day before, we have been at each other's throats!”

“Oh, you were at each other's throats, all right.”

“Glorfindel!”

"Ecthelion!” Glorfindel laughed. He leaned over and patted Ecthelion's shoulder in a way that is not at all reaassuring. "You'll be fine.”

#thank you for the ask!#bird wip ask game #the ships here were all over the place lol #ask game #wips #russingon #glorestor #Glorfindel/Ecthelion/Erestor #needs a ship name

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queer-ragnelle · 5 months

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would you mind sharing your thoughts on Arthur Rex? No pressure at all!

hi anon! i would love to!!

TL;DR author thomas berger had a lot of prejudice coming through in this book at random times which will undoubtedly make this unpalatable for some readers. completely valid reason to skip this one. but if you can get past that, the characterization is interesting! i'll indicate some of favorite aspects (with spoilers) below a cut.

right off the bat i think berger gets huge props for his balanced characterization almost across the board. aside from some of his super villains who love evil for the sake of evil (morgan le fay, sir melaegant, sir gromer, sir mordred) everyone has good & bad qualities that work in tandem to create an engaging story arc.

autism be damned by boy arthur can work a kingdom! lovable weirdo from page one. picky eater, sleeps with the windows open in winter, incapable of reading emotions, blind to social cues, infodumps to whomever will listen. which leads to the fascinating handling of his seduction at the hands of his sister morgause. here arthur is a 20yo virgin (nothing wrong with that, just older than he's usually depicted at this stage which i found unique). he's oblivious to morgause's wile e coyote attempts to kill him for her husband lot as arthur gives her a tour of the castle & talks non-stop about random stuff she doesn't care about. yet...she's wooed by his adorable naivety & they have consensual sex in ignorance of their relation. however, once arthur learns of this, he's so humiliated & disgusted with himself, that he refuses to set foot in that castle again, & after falling in love with guinevere & marrying her, he stays in her castle for her own familiarity & his comfort. he's then haunted for the rest of the book by that one night & it influences his decisions forever after, eventually costing him that strategical mind which made him a good king in the first place. i found that arthur's love for guinevere was very sweet if complicated. after his tercel kills her canary, he fills a room with countless new ones in golden cages, but she's not content. it really highlights arthur's fatal flaw, that he's high-effort, yet the encounter with morgause emotionally stunted him forever, & he lacks the emotional intelligence necessary to connect with his wife. i also like how arthur handled gawain's killing of pellinore. arthur beats gawain up (lol) & yells at him that his own father (uther) was a bad guy & all he can do himself is be a better man, & gawain should be trying to be better than lot, not worse. he forces him to shake hands with lamorak & they're friends after that. 10/10 no notes all my blorbos kiss & make up. infodumping to morgause:

this then brings me to gawain who i adore in this book. he has it all. he's a total slut right from his introduction when he's not immediately available to meet the king bc he's "jousting a maiden..." he loves his brothers dearly, he's (eventually) loyal to arthur, great friends with kay & lancelot, he goes through the green knight adventure, & then eventually meets & settles down with ragnelle which was so sweet i got cavities. he has a bunch of kids with her & gets to die in her arms at the end (weeping). the narrative is generous to gawain regarding his anger toward lancelot as well which i liked. by that i mean it indicates that if either of them knew guinevere was in danger besieged by mordred, they would have dropped their fight at once to help her, but they had no idea, so they fought to gawain's death. gawain's ghost then comes to arthur flanked by his polycule of angels who are glad to have his virile prowess in heaven (no lie that is the rationale it's awesome). overall i thought he was great, very few books manage to give him a satisfying arc & this did! wedding to ragnelle:

my boy kay gets to be his best self here. right from his childhood he was dissatisfied with his humble life in wales, so when the opportunity to be seneschal for arthur arises, he puts his whole pussy into it. lots of beautiful description of banquets he makes, the whole process of his management in the kitchen as well as surrounding fields, orchards, etc to make it all happen. he even baked & decorated gawain/ragnelle's fancy wedding cake it's adorable. when meleagant kidnaps guinevere, kay had been serving the women at the time & was overcome, so he heads out immediately after her & ends up in prison beside her, where they comfort one another through the bars (makes me a little insane, their friendship was so good). the relationship with beaumains is also well-developed here, & kay is skeptical of beaumains but not outright cruel to him, & eventually warms up to him as gareth is friendly & willing to work. optimal outcome! this kay isn't as great as cherith baldry's, but he's pretty damn good considering the horrors out there. fighting meleagant:

a complex/nuanced agravaine??? more likely than you think...i adore him. funny & brooding & jealous & kind of a dummy lol but what i find compelling is that some of his dislike for lancelot stems from the fact gawain was arthur's first knight & his recognition as such is eclipsed by lancelot in both the king's eyes but gawain's own as well. agravaine even expresses that he feels as if gawain loves lancelot more than him...ouch?? he's fiercely loyal to arthur & he's appointed as guinevere's personal guard for many years. this further explains his obsession with lancelot, as it's literally his job to keep her safe/protect her honor, & an affair threatens that. later, mordred is finally old enough to come to court, agravaine is the only unmarried brother so he gets to bunk with him, & he's so excited about it bc he's been lonely since the other 3 moved in with their wives (hello??? sob??). he's got a close loving relationship with arthur which is of utmost importance to me. in the end it's mordred who manipulates agravaine into cornering lancelot. but it almost doesn't work bc agravaine is so hopelessly in love that, on seeing lancelot in his night clothes, completely loses his train of thought & lancelot smoothly talks him out of it. flawless. uncle & nephew relationship:

overall this book is deeply flawed. berger makes endless asides to mention gender essentialism, race, sexuality. it's inexcusable. but he got the characterization of my faves so right & he's dead now so i'm not giving him any publicity or money by discussing the aspects i did like. overall i do think it's worth a read.

#arthurian legend #arthurian legends #arthuriana #arthur rex #thomas berger #king arthur #sir gawain #sir kay #sir agravaine #book review #quotes #spoilers #ask #anonymous

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judeandcardan · 9 months

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"You wanted to kiss me,” she breathed, looking down at his lips. Cardan’s eyes widened but he didn’t dare to move, waiting for Jude to finish her sentence. “And I told you that you were drunk.”

“Well, I’m not drunk anymore.” He found himself whispering before he could stop himself.

Read it on ao3

(Thank/blame @golden-notebook-thinking for this)

The High King of Elfhame woke up with a pounding head, his thoughts scattered. He blinked blearily, looking up at the ceiling of his chambers which was tastefully adorned with gold patterns. Across his stomach lay a petite fairie with hair as white as snow with her mouth flaked in gold. Cardan watched as she took deep breaths, obviously very much asleep. He looked around his chambers and sure enough there were three more sleeping fair folk draped across his room in various state of undress.

He gingerly got up, swatting the white-headed fairy’s arm until she blinked up in alarm at him. “Get off me,” He snarled in disgust. The fairie quickly scurried away from him. Perhaps, he should have been nicer, he mused but as he watched her cower, he felt the familiar thrill of having power so wicked and cruel over someone that he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He got up from his bed and walked towards the door, careful to avoid the bodies of other fairies currently lying on his bedroom floor. He breathed a sigh of relief as he silently closed the door behind him. It wasn’t dawn yet, so all the other residents of the palace were fast asleep. The silence hung heavily around him, suffocating him. He hated being alone. He strode towards the garden just outside the palace longing for some fresh air.

It was strange how his steps seemed to be eerily silent even in the quiet. Jude’s steps would not have been this silent, this ghostly. The thought came unbidden to him startling him as he opened the grand doors leading to the garden. He shook his head, disgusted by himself for thinking of his seneschal for such a trivial matter.

The warm humid air hit his cool skin immediately as he stepped outside. The breeze blowing his raven curls that were a mess from yesterday’s party and what followed after that. He moved towards the riverbank overlooking the river flowing gaily and hastily in a blur of blue.

He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw her. Jude. She was sitting at the edge of the river, leaning on her arms, her feet dipped in the cold water. It was reckless behavior, being so close to those treacherous waves, but Jude had always been foolishly reckless.

Her hair hung loose around her, a rarity, as her hair was always in one or another tight knot or braid. Her head was thrown back, exposing the long pale column of her neck. Her pink lips parted. Her eyes shut. She wore a loose flimsy white dress that reached till her knees but due to her sitting with one of her knees bent, it hiked up, showing the skin of her thigh. Cardan gulped, looking away but then almost immediately, as if under a spell he looked back at her. She was looking straight at him.

“Seneschal,” He said loftily, trying to mask his embarrassment at being caught staring.

“My King,” Jude replied with a slight snarl of her lip, getting up from her position.

“Oh, no need for that.” Cardan said quickly, too quickly. “Keep sitting. I shall join you. After all, you wouldn’t dare to refuse your High King, would you, Jude?” His tone took a threatening tilt at the end, daring her to refuse. Anger flared across her face, but she simply shook her head.

“No, I wouldn’t dream of it.” She said lowly, in a controlled voice. Cardan smirked and sat down beside her.

“You know, you shouldn’t do that,” He said, pointing towards her feet with one longer finger adorned with glittering rings.

“What?” She asked half-heartedly, her eyes closed.

“Dip your feet in water,” He clarified, “there are many a killer beneath these waves.”

She cracked an eye open, narrowing her eyes at him. “They are probably sleeping, right now.” But Cardan didn’t miss it as Jude became more alert, her eyes open, her back straighter.

“Hmm,” Cardan said turning away from Jude, “it’s just that I would like it if my Seneschal was alive.”

Jude scowled, begrudgingly retracting her feet from the water. “Happy now?”

“Very much so.” He said with a small smile. Jude rolled her eyes at him and that made him smile even more.

After a pause Jude said softly, “You look like a mess.” Cardan blinked slowly, looking down at himself. He truly was a mess. His white linen shirt was unbuttoned and tousled, stained with amber wine. He was wearing no boots. His breeches were scattered with gold powder. He was sure his hair looked quite wild too.

“I do.” He said, nodding his head slowly, looking up at her.

Jude snorted, “Of course, you do.” She opened her mouth then paused as if debating internally whether to speak what was on her mind or not. The sight unnerved Cardan. Jude wasn't like this.

“Go ahead, speak what’s on your mind.”

Jude hesitated then said, “I was just going to say…of course you look like a mess, you were so drunk and stupid last night. Wild. Brazen. Reckless. Careless. A High King shouldn’t behave like that, Cardan.”

Cardan ignored the latter half of what Jude said and instead asked, “Jude, what did I do?”

Jude jumped a little at her spot, not quite meeting his eyes. “Cardan—”

He cut her off. “Jude. What. Did. I. Do?” He asked, emphasizing on every word. Jude laughed nervously, the sound all high and wrong. This wasn’t how Jude laughed, he knew that for sure by the other two times he made her laugh before.

“Well, you did a lot of things. You got drunk. You inhaled all sorts of powder. You bedded a fairie—or for what I know many fairies. Then you—”

“Jude,” He said, stopping her ramblings, “that all is usual.” Jude remained silent.

“Now tell me,” he said, lifting her chin up with one of his slender fingers. Jude gulped. “What did I do?”

“You wanted to kiss me,” she breathed, looking down at his lips. Cardan’s eyes widened but he didn’t dare to move, waiting for Jude to finish her sentence. “And I told you that you were drunk.”

Cardan blinked in alarm and embarrassment. He couldn’t have—could he? Surely, he wouldn’t be foolish enough to want to kiss Jude, again? Despite her betrayal? Despite her mortality? Despite her controlling his every move?

“Well, I’m not drunk anymore.” He found himself whispering before he could stop himself.

Jude looked up in alarm, frozen. Then, hesitantly, leaned closer to him. Cardan inhaled sharply, not quite believing what was happening.

"Cardan, kiss me...please." She said looking up at him, her eyes hooded and clouded with lust and longing. He was sure he looked the same.

"I—"

"Kiss me." And he did. He pressed his mouth firmly against hers. Sliding his lips over hers as she did the same. He gripped her by the head bringing her closer but it wasn't enough. Never enough.

"Jude," he breathed his voice coarse, "straddle me."

Jude complied, her eyes dark with want. Cardan whimpered as she settled herself over his lap.

“My dear Seneschal,” he breathed, leaning closer to her once again, “you don't know how long I’ve longed for this.” He said bringing his mouth to hers once again.

#hmmm this sucks it's so bad oh god #jurdan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #how the king of elfhame learned to hate stories #the folk of the air #holly black #jurdan fanfic #jude x cardan

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cherrycoloredphoenix · 2 months

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Day 6: Reach - Harmony and the Alderking, a warlock and their patron

“You sure I can’t convince you to tag along?” the Alderking asked, peering down at them from his saddle.

His mare snorted and tossed her head, the golden threads in her mane glittering in the light.

“Quite sure, my lord.” Harmony patted the horse’s nose, slipped her another sugar cube, and skirted around her to tighten one of the saddle straps. Behind them, one of the Alderking’s daughters sprinted past with her arms full of her sisters’ riding boots.

High King Oberon called many hunts which the Alderking almost never attended, but now and then he felt obligated to accept. Thus the hubbub around them at the moment as the courtiers geared up for the event and the servants scrambled to collect necessary supplies that had been gathering dust. Harmony had declined to accompany the entourage, even if they were technically invited.

The Alderking picked at his sleeve, wrinkling his nose when he found a stray dog hair, probably from one of the blink hounds currently wandering between everybody’s legs. The outfit certainly wasn’t what Harmony would call suitable for hunting, but from what they’d heard, it was really more of a social than a sporting event. And either way, the Alderking wasn’t the hunting type. Someone else would be holding onto his bow and quiver so he could ride unencumbered (if Harmony had been going, it would probably be them), and it was unlikely that it would see any use.

They finished their last little tasks and stepped back, taking in the whole picture. They hummed and tapped their lip. “We get, what, another week with the green?”

“Roughly, yes.” The Alderking stretched out a hand, a flicker of magic dancing around his fingertips. Harmony’s pact mark warmed on their forehead in response. “I can feel my power swelling… the Autumn’s time draws ever nearer. Hence the Hunt attendance, at the transition between our seasons.” He dropped his hand and sighed. “You know, if you came with me, you’d be off the hook for the seasonal coordination.”

“I prefer it to spending that much time around Oberon, to be honest,” they replied. “Don’t worry about me, lord. We’ll have everything red and gold by the time you’re back. And I’m pretty sure the seneschal will be taking over most of the work anyways.”

The Alderking rolled his eyes. “I’ll trust you to wrangle her into taking a break now and again, then.”

“I’ll do my best.”

A horn pealed in the distance, and the dogs started to howl in response. Everybody scrambled to finalize their preparations and mount their own horses. The Alderking frowned in that direction, then held out a hand. “Well, I’ve delayed long enough, and it sounds like Oberon is getting restless. Take care of the place while we’re gone.”

“Of course, my lord.” Harmony bent over the extended hand and gave it a prim kiss. “For luck,” they said, grinning at their patron’s bemused expression. “That you won’t have to run around for too long.”

“Ha! I’ll need it.” One of his daughters called him from the end of the yard. He pulled his hand back and waved in reply. “And that’s my cue.” He smiled warmly down at them. “Fair winds, my dear.”

Harmony bowed. “Fair winds, my lord.”

#ockiss24 #tiefling #d&d #my art #my characters #drew the horse and bridle without any reference so pls go easy on me if it's wrong lol

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istumpysk · 1 year

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Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: The Watcher (Areo I) [Chapter 38]

"Let us look upon this head," his prince commanded.

Areo Hotah ran his hand along the smooth shaft of his longaxe, his ash-and-iron wife, all the while watching. He watched the white knight, Ser Balon Swann, and the others who had come with him. He watched the Sand Snakes, each at a different table. He watched the lords and ladies, the serving men, the old blind seneschal, and the young maester Myles, with his silky beard and servile smile. Standing half in light and half in shadow, he saw all of them. Serve. Protect. Obey. That was his task.

George should have been meta and named this chapter The Watchman.

Doran having two maesters makes me like him more.

+.+.+

His slippers whispering against the floor, Maester Caleotte crossed the hall to Ser Balon Swann. The round little man looked splendid in his new robes, with their broad bands of dun and butternut and narrow stripes of red.

Caleotte's a fashionista!

Why is he not in grey? Is that noteworthy after the last chapter?

+.+.+

Ser Balon Swann was taut as a drawn bow, the captain of guards observed. This new white knight was not so tall nor comely as the old one, but he was bigger across the chest, burlier, his arms thick with muscle. His snowy cloak was clasped at the throat by two swans on a silver brooch. One was ivory, the other onyx, and it seemed to Areo Hotah as if the two of them were fighting.

That's enough for me to know House Swann will be divided in the war to come.

Ser Balon's unease was plain. "Donnel erred, but he is Tommen's man now. You have my word."

"It's not Ser Donnel the Constant who concerns me. It's you." Jaime leaned forward. "What will you do if brave Ser Donnel gives his sword to yet another usurper, and one day comes storming into the throne room? And there you stand all in white, between your king and your blood. What will you do?"

"I . . . my lord, that will never happen." - Jaime VIII, ADWD

+.+.+

The man who wore them looked a fighter too. This one will not die so easy as the other. He will not charge into my axe the way Ser Arys did. He will stand behind his shield and make me come at him. If it came to that, Hotah would be ready. His longaxe was sharp enough to shave with.

Areo Hotah is a bit of a clairvoyant.

He correctly predicted there would be a day he fights Arys.

One day, he sensed, the two of them would fight; on that day Oakheart would die, with the captain's longaxe crashing through his skull. He slid his hand along the smooth ashen shaft of his axe and wondered if that day was drawing nigh. - The Captain of the Guards, AFFC

He had these unsettling thoughts about Obara.

She had left her spear outside. For that, Areo Hotah gave thanks. Quick and strong as she was, the woman was no match for him, he knew . . . but she did not, and he had no wish to see her blood upon the pale pink marble. - The Captain of Guards, AFFC

And now Balon Swann.

Areo Hotah, Balon Swann, and Obara Sand are together in the Dornish mountains right now.

+.+.+

The skull rested on a bed of black felt, grinning. All skulls grinned, but this one seemed happier than most. And bigger. The captain of guards had never seen a larger skull. Its brow shelf was thick and heavy, its jaw massive.

I trust this is Gregor Clegane's skull.

So what is on top of Robert Strong's shoulders? Spooky.

+.+.+

"That is as it may be, my lady," said Balon Swann, "but Ser Gregor was a knight, and a knight should die with sword in hand. Poison is a foul and filthy way to kill."

Lady Tyene smiled at that. Her gown was cream and green, with long lace sleeves, so modest and so innocent that any man who looked at her might think her the most chaste of maids. Areo Hotah knew better. Her soft, pale hands were as deadly as Obara's callused ones, if not more so. He watched her carefully, alert to every little flutter of her fingers.

Creepy's back.

Areo Hotah is on high alert whenever Tyene's around Doran. Might be telling us something!

"Oh, I must pray that I never see you frightened, Uncle. You might forget to breathe." She raised a hand . . .

The captain brought the butt of his longaxe down upon the marble with a thump. "My lady, you presume. Step from the dais, if it please you." - The Captain of the Guards, AFFC

+.+.+

The prince left it to Ricasso, his blind seneschal, to rise and propose the toast. "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."

What a show! Well done spineless Doran, craven Wyman Manderly couldn't have done any better.

+.+.+

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. Dorne was an angry and divided land, and Prince Doran's hold on it was not as firm as it might be.

Must remember these names.

The Fowlers and Ullers seem like the most noteworthy.

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. - The Princess in the Tower, AFFC

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? - The Princess in the Tower, AFFC

+.+.+

Tyene declined Ricasso's toast with a murmur and Lady Nym with a flick of a hand. Obara let them fill her cup to the brim, then upended it to spill the red wine on the floor.

+.+.+

Arianne touched the pin that clasped his cloak, with its quarreling swans. "I have always been fond of swans. No other bird is half so beautiful, this side of the Summer Isles."

"Your peacocks might dispute that," said Ser Balon.

"They might," said Arianne, "but peacocks are vain, proud creatures, strutting about in all those gaudy colors. Give me a swan serene in white or beautiful in black."

Ser Balon gave a nod and sipped his wine. This one is not so easily seduced as was his Sworn Brother, Hotah thought.

Hey, Sansa likes black birds too.

+.+.+

Midnight was close at hand when Prince Doran turned to the white knight and said, "Ser Balon, I have read the letter that you brought me from our gracious queen. Might I assume that you are familiar with its contents, ser?"

Hotah saw the knight tense. "I am, my lord. Her Grace informed me that I might be called upon to escort her daughter back to King's Landing. King Tommen has been pining for his sister and would like Princess Myrcella to return to court for a short visit."

Princess Arianne made a sad face. "Oh, but we have all grown so fond of Myrcella, ser. She and my brother Trystane have become inseparable."

"Prince Trystane would be welcome in King's Landing as well," said Balon Swann. "King Tommen would wish to meet him, I am sure. His Grace has so few companions near his own age."

"The bonds formed in boyhood can last a man for life," said Prince Doran. "When Trystane and Myrcella wed, he and Tommen will be as brothers. Queen Cersei has the right of it. The boys should meet, become friends. Dorne will miss him, to be sure, but it is past time Trystane saw something of the world beyond the walls of Sunspear."

"I know King's Landing will welcome him most warmly."

Why is he sweating now? the captain wondered, watching. The hall is cool enough, and he never touched the stew.

"As for the other matter that Queen Cersei raises," Prince Doran was saying, "it is true, Dorne's seat upon the small council has been vacant since my brother's death, and it is past time that it was filled again. I am flattered that Her Grace feels my counsel might be of use to her, though I wonder if I have the strength for such a journey. Perhaps if we went by sea?"

"By ship?" Ser Balon seemed taken aback. "That … would that be safe, my prince? Autumn is a bad season for storms, or so I've heard, and … the pirates in the Stepstones, they …"

The Watcher is picking up on something.

Trystane will not be going to King's Landing. I'd like to believe the show killed him because they didn't have a Quentyn to off.

He ate little, Hotah observed: a spoon of soup, a bite of the pepper, the leg off a capon, some fish. He shunned the lamprey pie and tried only one small spoonful of the stew.

↓

Why is he sweating now? the captain wondered, watching. The hall is cool enough, and he never touched the stew.

Add The Watcher to the list of flawed narrators.

+.+.+

"I am eager to see her once again," said Ser Balon. "And to visit your Water Gardens. I've heard they are very beautiful."

"Beautiful and peaceful," the prince said. "Cool breezes, sparkling water, and the laughter of children. The Water Gardens are my favorite place in this world, ser. One of my ancestors had them built to please his Targaryen bride and free her from the dust and heat of Sunspear. Daenerys was her name. She was sister to King Daeron the Good, and it was her marriage that made Dorne part of the Seven Kingdoms. The whole realm knew that the girl loved Daeron's bastard brother Daemon Blackfyre, and was loved by him in turn, but the king was wise enough to see that the good of thousands must come before the desires of two, even if those two were dear to him. It was Daenerys who filled the gardens with laughing children. Her own children at the start, but later the sons and daughters of lords and landed knights were brought in to be companions to the boys and girls of princely blood. And one summer's day when it was scorching hot, she took pity on the children of her grooms and cooks and serving men and invited them to use the pools and fountains too, a tradition that has endured till this day."

Nice bait from the author.

This Daenerys won't be choosing the Dornish prince, is on the verge of prioritizing her own desires, and will not be making peace with Dorne.

+.+.+

"Do that, and we will never see the girl again, and your son will spend his life a hostage to the Iron Throne."

"Do you take me for a fool, Obara?" The prince sighed. "There is much you do not know. Things best not discussed here, where anyone can hear. If you hold your tongue, I may enlighten you." He winced. "Slower, for the love you bear me. That last jolt sent a knife right through my knee."

Obara slowed her pace by half. "What will you do, then?"

Her sister Tyene gave answer. "What he always does," she purred. "Delay, obscure, prevaricate. Oh, no one does that half so well as our brave uncle."

I think it's time to go back to your cell.

+.+.+

Not until the doors of his solar were safely closed behind them did he wheel his chair about to face the women. Even that effort left him breathless, and the Myrish blanket that covered his legs caught between two spokes as he rolled, so he had to clutch it to keep it from being torn away. Beneath the coverlet, his legs were pale, soft, ghastly. Both of his knees were red and swollen, and his toes were almost purple, twice the size they should have been.

I think the author would like me to believe Doran will die from natural causes.

You can't fool me, sir.

+.+.+

"The skull is large enough, no doubt," said the prince. "And we know that Oberyn wounded Gregor grievously. Every report we have had since claims that Clegane died slowly, in great pain."

"Just as Father intended," said Tyene. "Sisters, truly, I know the poison Father used. If his spear so much as broke the Mountain's skin, Clegane is dead, I do not care how big he was. Doubt your little sister if you like, but never doubt our sire."

There's three things in life that are certain: death, taxes, and Tyene Sand poisoning someone.

+.+.+

Obara bristled. "I never did and never shall." She gave the skull a mocking kiss. "This is a start, I'll grant."

"A start?" said Ellaria Sand, incredulous. "Gods forbid. I would it were a finish. Tywin Lannister is dead. So are Robert Baratheon, Amory Lorch, and now Gregor Clegane, all those who had a hand in murdering Elia and her children. Even Joffrey, who was not yet born when Elia died. I saw the boy perish with mine own eyes, clawing at his throat as he tried to draw a breath. Who else is there to kill? Do Myrcella and Tommen need to die so the shades of Rhaenys and Aegon can be at rest? Where does it end?"

+.+.+

"It ends in blood, as it began," said Lady Nym. "It ends when Casterly Rock is cracked open, so the sun can shine on the maggots and the worms within. It ends with the utter ruin of Tywin Lannister and all his works."

One point for Casterly Rock being cracked open.

+.+.+

"I could wish that he died at my hand." Lady Nym settled in a chair, her long black braid falling across one shoulder to her lap. She had her father's widow's peak. Beneath it her eyes were large and lustrous. Her wine-red lips curled in a silken smile. "If he had, his dying would not have been so easy."

"Ser Gregor does look lonely," said Tyene, in her sweet septa's voice. "He would like some company, I'm certain."

I don't know how you send these two to King's Landing.

+.+.+

Ellaria's cheeks were wet with tears, her dark eyes shining. Even weeping, she has a strength in her, the captain thought.

"Oberyn wanted vengeance for Elia. Now the three of you want vengeance for him. I have four daughters, I remind you. Your sisters. My Elia is fourteen, almost a woman. Obella is twelve, on the brink of maidenhood. They worship you, as Dorea and Loreza worship them. If you should die, must El and Obella seek vengeance for you, then Dorea and Loree for them? Is that how it goes, round and round forever? I ask again, where does it end?" Ellaria Sand laid her hand on the Mountain's head. "I saw your father die. Here is his killer. Can I take a skull to bed with me, to give me comfort in the night? Will it make me laugh, write me songs, care for me when I am old and sick?"

Can you believe what the show did to Ellaria Sand? Tyene Sand was right there. She existed. She was portrayed by Rosabell Laurenti Sellers.

"When I take King's Landing, I'll send you Cersei's head."

And will that bring my Ned back to me? she thought. - Catelyn II, ACOK

+.+.+

"My prince." Ellaria kissed him on the brow and took her leave. Areo Hotah was sad to see her go. She is a good woman.

When she had gone, Lady Nym said, "I know she loved our father well, but it is plain she never understood him."

Alright, you too. Back to your cell.

+.+.+

"Darkstar did it," his little princess said. "He tried to kill Princess Myrcella too. As she will tell Ser Balon."

Nym smiled. "That part at least is true."

"It is all true," said the prince, with a wince of pain. Is it his gout that hurts him, or the lie? "And now Ser Gerold has fled back to High Hermitage, beyond our reach."

"Darkstar," Tyene murmured, with a giggle. "Why not? It is all his doing. But will Ser Balon believe it?"

You lying LIAR.

+.+.+

Obara snorted in disbelief. "She may lie today and lie tomorrow, but soon or late she'll tell the truth. If Ser Balon is allowed to carry tales back to King's Landing, drums will sound and blood will flow. He should not be allowed to leave."

The reality Doran Martell refuses to face.

Don't worry Doran, the Sand Snakes will handle that for you.

+.+.+

"We could kill him, to be sure," said Tyene, "but then we would need to kill the rest of his party too, even those sweet young squires. That would be … oh, so messy."

What's more insane, Doran sending Quentyn to Meereen or Tyene to King's Landing?

+.+.+

Prince Doran shut his eyes and opened them again. Hotah could see his leg trembling underneath the blanket. "If you were not my brother's daughters, I would send the three of you back to your cells and keep you there until your bones were grey. Instead I mean to take you with us to the Water Gardens. There are lessons there if you have the wit to see them."

Quick rundown of Dorne going into TWOW.

Before they go their separate ways, everyone will travel to the Water Gardens. After that,

Arianne Martell will travel to Griffin's Roost.

Balon Swann, Areo Hotah, and Obara Sand will travel to the Dornish mountains in pursuit of Darkstar.

Tyene Sand and Nymeria Sand will travel up the kingsroad to King's Landing with Myrcella Baratheon.

Ellaria's first daughter, Elia Sand, will accompany Arianne.

Ellaria's second daughter, Obella Sand, will serve as a cupbearer at Sunspear.

Ellaria's third daughter, Dorea Sand, will remain at the Water Gardens with Doran.

Ellaria will return to Hellholt with her youngest daughter, Loreza Sand.

Two things jump out at me.

Areo and Doran have been separated, and Myrcella is under the care of Tyene and Nymeria.

If you're wondering how either of those things were allowed to happen, I'm right there with you.

+.+.+

"Aye," the prince said. "I told the story to Ser Balon, but not all of it. As the children splashed in the pools, Daenerys watched from amongst the orange trees, and a realization came to her. She could not tell the highborn from the low. Naked, they were only children. All innocent, all vulnerable, all deserving of long life, love, protection. 'There is your realm,' she told her son and heir, 'remember them, in everything you do.' My own mother said those same words to me when I was old enough to leave the pools. It is an easy thing for a prince to call the spears, but in the end the children pay the price. For their sake, the wise prince will wage no war without good cause, nor any war he cannot hope to win.

+.+.+

Your father and I worked more closely than you know … but now he is gone. The question is, can I trust his daughters to serve me in his place?"

Hotah studied each of them in turn. Obara, rusted nails and boiled leather, with her angry, close-set eyes and rat-brown hair. Nymeria, languid, elegant, olive-skinned, her long black braid bound up in red-gold wire. Tyene, blue-eyed and blond, a child-woman with her soft hands and little giggles.

Tyene answered for the three of them. "It is doing nothing that is hard, Uncle. Set a task for us, any task, and you shall find us as leal and obedient as any prince could hope for."

The author is on a roll.

Her straight black hair, worn in a long braid bound up with red-gold wire, made a widow's peak above her dark eyes, just as her father's had. With her high cheekbones, full lips, and milk-pale skin, she had all the beauty that her elder sister lacked - The Captain of the Guards, ADWD

Convincing words from Tyene Sand. Lol

+.+.+

"That is good to hear," the prince said, "but words are wind. You are my brother's daughters and I love you, but I have learned I cannot trust you. I want your oath. Will you swear to serve me, to do as I command?"

"If we must," said Lady Nym.

"Then swear it now, upon your father's grave."

Obara's face darkened. "If you were not my uncle—"

"I am your uncle. And your prince. Swear, or go."

"I swear," said Tyene. "On my father's grave."

"I swear," said Lady Nym. "By Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper of Dorne, and a better man than you."

"Aye," said Obara. "Me as well. By Father. I swear."

I want to smack her.

Myrcella's going to die because Doran Martell believes in the power of pinky swearing. I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

+.+.+

Prince Doran took a jagged breath. "Dorne still has friends at court. Friends who tell us things we were not meant to know. This invitation Cersei sent us is a ruse. Trystane is never meant to reach King's Landing. On the road back, somewhere in the kingswood, Ser Balon's party will be attacked by outlaws, and my son will die. I am asked to court only so that I may witness this attack with my own eyes and thereby absolve the queen of any blame. Oh, and these outlaws? They will be shouting, 'Halfman, Halfman,' as they attack. Ser Balon may even catch a quick glimpse of the Imp, though no one else will."

Partly covered in Cersei IV.

Qyburn, Varys, Taena Merryweather, and the men involved in the ambush appear to be the only candidates. I'm not sure we'll ever get the answer to this.

+.+.+

"Seven save us," whispered Tyene. "Trystane? Why?"

"The woman must be mad," Obara said. "He's just a boy."

"This is monstrous," said Lady Nym. "I would not have believed it, not of a Kingsguard knight."

Uh huh.

Four lives will suffice for me. Lord Tywin's golden twins, as payment for Elia's children. The old lion, for Elia herself. And last of all the little king, for my father."

"The boy has never wronged us." - The Captain of the Guards, AFFC

"We could kill him, to be sure," said Tyene, "but then we would need to kill the rest of his party too, even those sweet young squires. That would be … oh, so messy." - The Watcher, ADWD

+.+.+

Obara's face was flushed. "Give me back my spear, Uncle. Cersei sent us a head. We should send her back a bag of them."

This one is still a problem too.

+.+.+

We will travel to the Water Gardens, where he will hear Myrcella's story and send a raven to his queen. The girl will ask him to hunt down the man who hurt her. If he is the man I judge, Swann will not be able to refuse. Obara, you will lead him to High Hermitage to beard Darkstar in his den. The time is not yet come for Dorne to openly defy the Iron Throne, so we must needs return Myrcella to her mother, but I will not be accompanying her. That task will be yours, Nymeria. The Lannisters will not like it, no more than they liked it when I sent them Oberyn, but they dare not refuse. We need a voice in council, an ear at court. Be careful, though. King's Landing is a pit of snakes.

When a plan stems from a lie it has disaster written all over it.

+.+.+

"And what of me?" asked Tyene.

"Your mother was a septa. Oberyn once told me that she read to you in the cradle from the Seven-Pointed Star. I want you in King's Landing too, but on the other hill. The Swords and the Stars have been re-formed, and this new High Septon is not the puppet that the others were. Try and get close to him."

"Why not? White suits my coloring. I look so … pure."

She's bordering on parody.

You want my prediction? None of the above happens.

I don't know if you've noticed, but Doran Martell's plans never materialize. Nym serving on the small council with Cersei Lannister is a little hard to believe. Tyene getting close to the High Septon is laughable.

I don't think either of these girls have any intention of obeying Doran,

Nym and Tyene may have reached King's Landing by now, she mused, as she settled down crosslegged by the mouth of the cave to watch the falling rain. If not they ought to be there soon. - Arianne II, TWOW

and I don't think they'll be reaching King's Landing anytime soon.

Tyene has already told us what she wants.

"War," said Tyene, "though not my sister's war. Dornishmen fight best at home, so I say let us hone our spears and wait. When the Lannisters and the Tyrells come down on us, we shall bleed them in the passes and bury them beneath the blowing sands, as we have a hundred times before." - The Captain of the Guards, AFFC

She wants the war to come to them. How do we make the Lannisters come?

"If they should come down on us."

"Oh, but they must, or see the realm riven once more, as it was before we wed the dragons. Father told me so. 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. "I would be honored to arrange the wedding, and to see to the making of the crowns as well. Trystane and Myrcella are so innocent, I thought perhaps white gold . . . with emeralds, to match Myrcella's eyes. Oh, diamonds and pearls would serve as well, so long as the children are wed and crowned. Then we need only hail Myrcella as the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, and lawful heir to the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, and wait for the lions to come."- The Captain of the Guards, AFFC

Crowning Myrcella? There will be no crowning of Myrcella Baratheon.

"You know the Fowler words? Let Me Soar! That is all I ask of you. Let me soar, Uncle. I need no mighty host, only one sweet sister."

"Obara?"

"Tyene. Obara is too loud. Tyene is so sweet and gentle that no man will suspect her. Obara would make Oldtown our father's funeral pyre, but I am not so greedy. Four lives will suffice for me. Lord Tywin's golden twins, as payment for Elia's children. The old lion, for Elia herself. And last of all the little king, for my father." - The Captain of the Guards, AFFC

Oberyn Martell went to King's Landing, and King's Landing sent back a bag of bones.

I don't think Cersei is getting two Sand Snakes, I think she's getting a dead daughter returned to her.

+.+.+

"Good," the prince said, "good." He hesitated. "If … if certain things should come to pass, I will send word to each of you. Things can change quickly in the game of thrones."

You have no idea.

(Title drop!)

+.+.+

Prince Doran shared his secret smile with her. "From Lys. A great fleet has put in there to take on water. Volantene ships chiefly, carrying an army. No word as to who they are, or where they might be bound. There was talk of elephants."

"No dragons?"

"Elephants. Easy enough to hide a young dragon in a big cog's hold, though. Daenerys is most vulnerable at sea. If I were her, I would keep myself and my intentions hidden as long as I could, so I might take King's Landing unawares."

"Do you think that Quentyn will be with them?"

"He could be. Or not. We will know by where they land if Westeros is indeed their destination. Quentyn will bring her up the Greenblood if he can. But it does no good to speak of it. Kiss me. We leave for the Water Gardens at first light."

There's that familiar optimism right before everything collapses.

+.+.+

"Until the Mountain crushed my brother's skull, no Dornishmen had died in this War of the Five Kings," the prince murmured softly, as Hotah pulled a blanket over him. "Tell me, Captain, is that my shame or my glory?"

"That is not for me to say, my prince." Serve. Protect. Obey. Simple vows for simple men. That was all he knew.

The last time we see Doran Martell in this book a blanket is being pulled over him while he talks about his shame and glory. . .

Final thoughts:

Goodbye Areo Hotah. Excellent job standing there.

I want to go back and count how many total words he spoke.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #adwd #the watcher #areo i

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likecanyoujustnot · 2 months

Text

Cardan’s letters pov

Part 4: ridiculous

A/n: currently typing this on my iPad that is so old it’s lost 10 percent in 10 minutes. But I won’t write much i want to know if my Hawke-is-actually-casteel theory is correct. Anyway. Enjoy

Part 3. Part 5

36 days.

36 days and no Jude. I’d never not seen her for this long, even when we hated each other.

I was getting desperate. And desperate people do foolish things.

Like go to their families graves.

They were buried outside, in the woods.

Dain.

Elowyn.

Caelia.

Rhyia.

Eldred.

I stared at the stones that marked their final resting place. So simple, the prince, princess and high king, reduced to a small headstone that would be overgrown in a few decades.

I may have despised my brother and father, but no one wants to have their entire family massacred.

I don’t know what happened to Dain’s mother’s. Balekin probably gave her body to her sister, or other unspeakables.

After Jude had been exiled, I went to the courtyard where she had killed him. Said to the guards to do with him as they wished. Dig a shallow grave, feed him to some rabid creature, dump him in the ocean, sell his organs, I really didn’t care.

I wouldn’t be king if it weren’t for him.

I’d be enjoying a life of zero responsibilities and be able to drink and lust over Jude to my hearts content.

Balekin wouldn’t have killed me at the coup, he didn’t know of Oak’s lineage, and thought I was the only one able to crown him.

But I was grateful for Jude taking me away. Who knows how long I would’ve stayed under that table for.

Plus it had ended with us kissing, which was a massive bonus.

What I wouldn’t give for one more kiss from her lips. One more skeptical look as I did something she disapproved of. One more second, so I could tell her what was truely in my heart.

The bomb had been right when she’d said I loved Jude.

I’d loved Jude since we’d gone to school together. I’d seen her beauty, so different to the perfectness of the other women I’d been with, more rugged, raw. Seen the way she didn’t let her inability to do what the fae could hold her back, she was fierce when standing up for herself, when showing the fae- showing me- that she was not one to be underestimated.

And I’d taken all of it, the beauty, the ferociousness, the strength, the moments she let her guard down, for granted.

If she ever came back, I would tell her how I felt, how I loved her, how my every thought was consumed with her.

I placed the flowers on the graves of my sisters. I missed them. Even if I didn’t see them that often and they liked to pretend I didn’t exist.

I spat on my father’s grave as I left the clearing, not even acknowledging Dain’s.

“Mother.”

I stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching her rummage through the cupboards for food. Multiple family reunions in one day. Lucky me.

She made a sound of recognition.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re not very smart are you? It’s quite clear I’m looking for food.”

Lady Asha was many things, a sympathetic mother was not one.

“There are rumours around court.”

I folded my arms and lent against the door. “That’s not new, they always talk.”

She looks at me and there is a cruel smile on her face. One I recognise as being so similar to my own. “Yes but now there are the most scandalous stories about you and your dear seneschal.” I raise a brow and she continues. “They’re saying you and her were involved in a physical relationship.” I keep my face blank. “Some state you stole her from Locke, and in desperation he married her sister. Others say you exiled her because she’s pregnant with your child, and you would rather abandon her than father a half-human child.”

I rolled my eyes. “She’s not pregnant, I exiled her for killing my brother.”

“That won’t stop them.”

She straightened and walked over to the bench. I noted the absence of food in her hands. “I’m surprised you haven’t brought her back. Might be something you and your father have in common. Abandon your lovers.”

“I am nothing like my father. And this conversation is wasting my time.”

She smirked as I left.

I don’t know why I continued to deal with her presence. She didn’t care about me when she ignored me as a child, a baby who had to find his own way to survive.

If I ever had children I would make sure they never went a day without knowing I loved and cared for them.

And of course that line of thinking brought me back to Jude.

Did she want kids?

We’d both had thoroughly messed up childhoods. Her parents had been murdered by the man she now considered her father. My father probably would have been glad if I’d just died.

We had Oak if she didn’t want them.

I sighed and sat back on my bed. I’d spent so long in here the past month. Wishing for nothing more than Jude to be beside me.

But she wasn’t.

So I would do the only thing I could think of.

I wrote another letter.

Jude,

I love you, and I miss you so much it hurts.

No, the first time I told her I loved her would be in person. Not over a freaking letter.

Jude,

Not even responding to my missives is ridiculous and beneath you and I hate it.

Cardan

I stared at the words.

At the words I didn’t say.

Tags:

@magicstrengthandcourage

#cardans letters pov #the cruel prince #the queen of nothing #queen of nothing #cardan greenbriar fanart #jude duarte #jurdan #jurdan fanfic #jude x cardan #the folk of the air #folk of the air

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