#alice fell off the cliff

[vampyre-lesbian]

waiting anxiously for Taika to post a new Dads on Tour video so I can reassure myself that he hasn't fallen into the Lake of Death. it's been over 24 hours now and I'm concerned.

#i'm convinced he either fell in or Matewa finally snapped and threw his phone off a cliff #taika waititi #alice rambles

[vxperorchist]

Battle scars!

Genshin characters reacting to seeing deep and large scars on your body.

Heizou, Gorou, Xiao, Albedo, Childe, Scaramouche, and Ayato x Gn! Reader.

Warnings: Language, scars, mentions of blood.

Ok guys I've given in to writing for heizou and have joined the cult. SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES 👎👎

I'm not the happiest with this writing but I need to post something

Heizou

Heizou knew you did a lot due to work. Your work required lots of fighting and was incredibly hazardous. Your job constantly put your life on the line and he saw it in your eyes. He can read when you have had a rough day, and he's seen the smaller scars on your arms from fighting and other various injuries.

It was late and both of you got of work rather early. The sun was setting but still had the beautiful glow known to Inazuma. You were changing in your shared bedroom when Heizou accidentally walked in on you. "My bad!" He chuckled, but then noticed a long, large scar that traveled across your spine and back. "Y/n, what happend?" He quickly grew worried and touched your now clothed shoulder. "Oh that? That's old, no big deal." You shrugged and kissed his forehead. As you were walking off he grabbed your waist and pulled you back into him. He put his hand on your lower back and asked for permission to lift your shirt. When he lifted it, he traced his finger over the large scar. "Where did this even come from?" "I fell down a cliff about a year ago, pretty cool isn't it?" He tilted his head and didn't know whether to laugh or just stand In shock. "I'm ok Heizou." You reassured him with a laugh, hugging him tightly.

Gorou

Gorou doesn't have many large scars, more of a lot of small ones. He was a general after all. You being an experienced captain allowed you to know a thing or two about war as well.

You wore a shirt that exposed your shoulder that day, you knew you had a long scar that traveled from your lower shoulder up to your neck. You didn't care much for it, and hoped your boyfriend wouldn't care much about it either. Gorou however did care a lot, he didn't know how to bring it up to you, so he kinda stared at it, he had no intention of making you uncomfortable. He took the chance to bring it up to you when you both were laying down on the couch. He was reviewing some papers and had his head against your neck. He kissed your neck, and you knew his intention. "Y/n." He has no clue how to bring it up, so he kinda points to it. "Is this recent?" "Oh, no Gorou. It's old." You reassured him, knowing he would be worried he wasn't doing enough for his soldiers, especially you to keep everyone safe. He frowned, and you kisses his forehead immediately cheering him up.

Xiao

Xiao was no stranger to scars, he had quite a few himself but hid them well. He didn't like to be reminded of his past to often.

He saw the scar on your stomach when you were sleeping. Your shirt came up slightly as you were sleeping in his bed. He moved closer to you to get a better look. He wanted to trace it with his finger, but was scared to awake you. You grabbed his hand and intertwined his hand with yours. You grabbed his hand tight, knowing what he was looking at. You had the same reaction to most of his scars too, so you weren't going to push him away. You rested your head on his hand and he found it oddly comforting. He didn't know where it was from, but he knew it had a story. All scars did.

Albedo

Albedo didn't have any scars of his own, however he did see some small scrapes and scars appear on klees body every now and then. He had experimented with some things to try and find a scar remover and creams of all sorts. He wanted klee to be in good shape and Alice wouldn't be to happy to see little scars on klees hands.

The scar on your hand was a lot deeper and longer, it wrapped around your hand and it looked pretty interesting in his opinion. He knew you had the scar for some time, but he didn't really bother asking about it. "Y/n, I've made a cream to help with scars. It's mainly for klee, but if you ever need it feel free to use it." He said calmly. He wasn't sure if the scar meant something to you, and wanted to make sure you were comfortable. You kept the scar. You got it from the heart of dragonspine. Kinda insane, however you planned to experiment. (Albedo thought this idea was impressive)

Childe

This man has some scars. He loves to show them off to you, explain how he got them, say how badass it was, etc. He knew you had scars, and he was beyond interested.

"Y/n! What's the scar on your leg from?" He was laying in between your legs while you were playing with his hair. "That's my secret." You responded, keeping him curious. You knew this would annoy him. He flipped around and laid on top of you. This 6 foot man baby was incredibly annoying to deal with when he's whiny. He caressed your leg and traced over the scar. "It looks cool!" You were glad he thought so.

Scaramouche

He doesn't have scars. They litterally do not exist on him. It's probably the inhuman aspect to him, cause he's a fighter. Despite being aggressive, he's incredibly observant. He notices when you come back with cuts, no matter how small.

You were working with him, he was reviewing files on a few people. And you were collecting things around the area to help out. He watched you and the scar you had on your hip. He got up and walked over to you. He grabbed you by your waist and lifted your shirt up to see the scar better. "Scara!" You slapped his hand, doing absolutely nothing to him. He put his finger on it and then stared at you. "Where the hell is this from?" He asked coldly. "I got into a fight a while ago, no big deal." You shrugged and tried to wiggle out of his grasp. "Who?" (Asked) "I was dueling with chide. I'm telling you it's no big deal." You laughed at his growing annoyance towards the situation. (He held one hell of a grudge and was trying to kill Childe for weeks) (man was PISSED. Wouldn't let you duel with Childe for months.)

Ayato

He has absolutely no scars. He's too good for them. His skin is flawless. He knew your job well however. He knew how it was risky and you were a fighter. He made sure to always take care of you after a tough job.

You came home exhausted and dirty. You took a shower as your boyfriend finished up work. He walked into your bedroom as you were getting dressed. "Ayato!" You ran up and hugged him. He placed a kiss on the top of your head and hugged you back. He sat you on your bed and sat with you. "It's nice to see- Oh, what's this?" He pointed at a scar on your thigh he hadn't noticed before. "Oh don't worry, nothing big" it was indeed a big scar. You closed your legs and leaned onto him. "We have some product to help it heal faster, would you like that?" "I'll be alright, thank you though. I take scars as a physical reminder on what ives accomplished." He nodded and smiled. He wanted to be the best he could for you.

#xiao x reader #genshin impact #albedo x reader #childe x reader #albedo #ayato x reader #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #heizou x reader #ayato #gorou x y/n #OrchistList

[katnissmellarkkk]

another thing about twilight. why is it that bella never ever seems to care that the cullens — imo carlisle especially — only care about her literally because they love edward? like of course that is majority of in-law situations in life, like i know that. but bella is like “this is my family! this is where i belong and who i belong with!” and then they all just up and leave her the moment edward tells them to. carlisle especially only seems to care about her imo (beyond the fact that he cares for all human lives) because he cares about edward. idk i would feel some kind of way about the cullens if they literally took me in and then dropped me like a hot potato based off whatever edward felt on any given day.

in a way alice is better and in a way she’s worse on this front. like okay, she and bella are best friends, that much is true. one of the things i will give stephenie meyers (because she’s nowhere near as bad as people claim. stephen king has no business criticizing her when his stories are some of the worst i’ve ever encountered) is she does create and develop actual believable friendships and relationships. bella and alice are very close and lovey dovey. but that makes it worse imo when alice abandons her alongside edward. because her friendship with bella is literally contingent on edward.

but at the same time she does have an actual relationship with bella and you get that she wanted what edward thought was best for bella’s life and she loves her and her heart is in the right place and all that good stuff. but idk. for me, if i were in that situation, i wouldn’t have taken the cullens in as warmly again in eclipse. like bella is all like “my family! we’re all together again!” when in reality i, and i think anyone with enough self-esteem, would be much colder to them. more distant and less open. because even if she’s taken edward back — because really his side of the leaving fiasco is actually more understandable than the entire family’s ditching her and then wanting to act like nothing ever happened seven months later — his family still proved that she’s merely an extension of edward to them. they’re a family, they’ve been a family for around 75-100 years. they’ve been together, functioning as a family unit town to town since before her grandparents were born. like she’s just a modern teenage girl who the one unmarried brother fell in love with and brought along for the ride. like they all abandoned her and had the whole thing with edward/alice/cliff diving/volturi not occurred then the entire family would have just never contacted her again in her life. idk. i get the impression more so from carlisle than any of the others but bella’s whole open heart, open arms thing is sadly pathetic. because she’s clinging to a family that could take or leave her at a moment’s notice.

and honestly some lots may disagree but i do highkey appreciate the fact that stephenie meyers tried to rectify a lot of people’s criticisms with bella, in midnight sun. like she tried to retroactively make it seem like a lot of the “bella is a parentified child and she’s so mature because she doesn’t mind it at all” “bella takes care of her parents because she’s old for her age” was just a first person character blindness on bella’s part and it was actually really messed up in edward’s eyes the way her parents treated her and how it shaped her personality. but personally i wish SM would have included edward realizing bella has a really low self-esteem and that’s why she takes whatever kind of love people offer her without complaint and resentment even after they’ve done her dirty, not because “the cullens are so amazing” and “i’m so lucky to belong with them!”

#poor bella ok she’s still my baby girl #twilight #bella swan #Carlisle Cullen #edward Cullen #bellward #Alice Cullen #esme Cullen #rosalie Cullen #emmett Cullen #jasper Cullen #twilight saga #twilight renaissance #twilight series #tss

[thesunfyre4446]

As for punishing Alicent, Aemond and Criston - I will give my TB perspective if I may :)

I support the idea that Alicent should be punished. Just like Luke should. It's more about "how to punish one person for hurting the king's child without punish another person for hurting the king's child." Aemond was kid, but Rhaenyra was heir to the trone. Luke should be punished (NOT by having his eye gouged out), but Alicent can't go unpunished. He took Aemond's eye, she attacked Rhaenyra and wounded her with valyrian steel to the bone. They both should be punished.

Criston should face the same consequences as all the rest of the guards who guarded the royal family in Driftmark. No one checked that Aemond (the prince) did not reach the bed at all. He disappeared in the evening and didn't come back, and no one noticed. What if he fell off a cliff? If Vhagar rejected him? They would find his body or ashes and… what? The two heirs and two granddaughters of the Lord of Driftmark/the king's nieces left the castle unnoticed in the middle of the night to fight "someone who is stealing Vhagar". They didn't know it was Aemond. They could have died. They would find their bodies or they wouldn't and... what?

As for Aemond. In my opinion he knew what he was doing was wrong, that's why he ran away to do it in the middle of the night. He should have known that he shouldn't run away in the night LIKE he was stealing dragon, and go and bond with it properly, under proper supervision, like every other Targaryen had done before him. He should have known that he couldn't use the dragon as a death threat against his younger cousins who lost their mother to the dragon. I know he didn't know them. But he should understand how empathy works and that he's a child who shouldn't be threatening to use a dragon as a weapon. Every child, not just Luke, should understand that escalating violence (physically or verbally, as Aemond did) is wrong.

This is my opinion and one that I know I share with other TBs I know. Some people have… weird ideas, but it works both ways. Some TBs say Aemond should be sent to the Wall, and some TGs say Luke should be completely disinherited, mutilated and his dragon killed. Both attitudes are wrong.

thank you for your input!

i will say that rhaenyra offering to have aemond "sharply questioned" & taunting alicent with that "thank you, father" line & alicent just being very upset and distraught over her son losing his eye is what prompted her to finally lose it and attack rhaenyra. it's not something she was proud of & regretted it the next morning (i really wish that from that moment on the show would make alicent more like her book counterpart... but she was obvs regretting snapping out lol)

technically yeah she attack rhaenyra with a knife, but this fandom's unwillingness to sympathies and recognize alicent's pain is very upsetting to me. i'm seeing a lot of posts like "alicent should've been killed & locked up & whipped" and i'm like... are you fr? this woman is clearly upset and hurt over her son's injury. even rhaenyra and viserys or even daemon never tried to get alicent punished.

wrt to aemond - according to f&b he was sneaking out because he knew his parents would never allow him near vhagar. like i've said, he was supposed to return to KL very soon, and vhagar couldn't come with them to the dragonpit because she's too big. would she just disappear like she had when baelon died? would she go to dragonstone - that's very possible. but he couldn't go to dragonstone since his mom and rhaenyra are beefing.

and considering aemond's character. it was something he wanted to do on his own. he wanted to prove himself. & was 10 and didn't really think through the whole thing. we really don't know much about how targs claim dragons. there aren't any rules. you can just try to mount them and hope for the best lol i think that a dragon also chooses the rider based on personality. vhagar and aemond bonded over feeling lonely . that and aemond's bravery is exactly why vhagar accepted him. and wrt to empathy, listen, not going to justify what he said to the girls, but kids can be really really mean lol aemond's not shown to be very empathic in general & especially not to 2 strangers standing together with his bullies.

anyway, yeah, physical punishments are always bad. especially to kids???? i blame mostly viserys for not showing his son & alicent that he cared about them & just handling the whole situation very badly. in f&b he banishes harwin to harrenhall & sends rhaenyra to dragonstone & makes that threat that he'll cut the togues of anyone who speaks against rhaenyra's family. that makes so much more sense then show version.

#hotd #asks #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #aemond targaryen #alicent hightower #lucerys strong #viserys hate club #anti viserys i targaryen

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Dark ask here, but. If Renesmee _was_ an immortal child and the Volturi didn't find out like they did in canon, could the Cullens decide to kill her? Or are they gonna try and hide her forever? I mean I guess they're still fucked either way so might as well keep her, but surely they'd argue about it and it'd destroy the family? Who takes what side, do you think?

Oh absolutely, Jasper takes her for a walk and "oh no Bella, she fell off a cliff and died". Or more realistically, Alice finds out the best way to cover this up for Bella.

Bella is probably told Renesmee didn't make it.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #bella swan #volturi #meta #headcanon #opinion

[emilykaldwen]

The Maiden and the Drowning Boy | Aegon x OC | Chapter Two

Rating: Explicit Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong (Lyonel Strong's Daughter), Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

Tropes: Childhood Sweethearts/Friends to Lovers, Generational Trauma and Cycles of Abuse, It's All About the Character Development, Unreliable Narrators, Multi-POV, Canon Divergent, Bisexual Aegon II Targaryen, Book/Show Mash Up, Fix-It Of Sorts, Stopping the Cycle of Abuse before it gets us all killed, Team Neutral, fairy tale vibes meets victorian medievalism meets grrm

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Tumblr Masterpost

Chapter One

CHAPTER TWO - REWRITE THIS PAIN WE OWN

Aegon grapples with the news of the betrothal. Alicent has a talk with Viserys, and Larys decides to finally step in as a brother. Allegedly.

The cloisters were some of the oldest parts of the Red Keep. They spanned the distance between the high towers of the Hand and Maester, then down along the edge of the main courtyard. Most ignored the courtyard in favor of the Godswood, or the great gardens further down near the cliff edge. This was an overgrown place, where Helaena delighted, once upon a time, in digging up fat pill bugs from the dirt, or where Aemond cried after being stung by a bee from the hive towards the eastern wall; a hidden place, ignored and forgotten by the wisteria and roses that crept along the arches, unkempt and wild and hidden even in the middle of what made the Keep - and the kingdom - turn.

Aegon’s heartbeat was thundering in his ears, and their footsteps echoed off the stone walls of the staircase as he focused on putting as much distance between him and everything in that room as possible. A headache pulsed in time with his frantic heart behind his eyes, and he could taste the acrid, burning bile in the back of his throat.

Betrothed.

The cold, dainty fingers in his damp, feverish hand gripped harder as they burst through the dripping, fragrant purple wisteria draped over the many arches, and out the bright morning sun that streamed into the garden.

“Aegon?” Abby’s voice was normally a sweetly soft or excitedly curious tone. Now, it cut through the pounding rush of blood in his ears with the way it shook with uncertainty and concern.

He abruptly let go of her hand and crashed through the flower beds instead of following the stone path that the moss had all but consumed. Buzzing filled his ears, and he fell to his knees beside a red berry bush and promptly heaved out the contents of his stomach. His world narrowed down to the raw tearing inside his throat, the painful clench of his insides, his whole body jerking with the motion as the mess spattered and soaked into the soft soil.

The ravens that called the great, weeping cherry tree home burst into the air with a litany of shrieks, clearly disgusted by the display before them.

Aren’t we all? he thought, fingers plunging into the sun warmed soil while his body decided it needed a break. Aegon gasped, dizzy and unable to catch his breath as panic fought to settle in his chest. The clamminess had not started yet. A good sign. He did not think he could withstand the onslaught of nerves that burst beneath his hangover.

“Aegon? Are you alright?” she asked, still in that gentle, worried tone. His mother sounded that way once upon a time, and with his eyes closed, Aegon could almost imagine it was his mother’s voice full of concern. It was not the voice of Alicent Hightower, however, but Abby and the worry that she hid behind her constant, ever present smile.

Except for years back, when her ocean blue eyes had gone dark and her little mouth went flat. Back then when her world burst into flames, he tried to save her. The girl he’d wrenched from the depths of grief had come back too bright, too smiling, too worried for everyone else but herself. Too prepared to burn herself out for everyone else while she froze.

He could only give her a resounding groan in response, because, well, it was exactly how he felt. He tensed, waiting to hear her footsteps through the garden to him, for it was something she would do: make sure he was alright, run a cool hand over his burning skin as she’d done for as long as he could remember. Shame burned his cheeks. He did not want her to see him like this. He hated it, and yet, here they were.

She’d have to get used to it, won’t she? Miserable, disgusting lech that you are.

Aegon chanced a glance over through damp tendrils of hair in his eyes, and saw her slippered feet and the swish of her blue skirt move away towards the willow and fountain that anchored the west end of the garden. He exhaled slowly, relief easing the knot in his chest while he watched the blue fabric finally vanish behind a bush with fat, pink and blue flowers. Perhaps she’d go drown herself in the fountain like a girl from a song to avoid this.

This, the thing he’d wanted since he was a boy and now could not run from faster.

Betrothal.

Marriage.

Aegon carefully lay down beside the bush, arm flung out and hair sticking to the dampness of his forehead. He was never awake this early, when the sun had barely crested over the walls. His throat burned and his stomach ached, chest too tight, and if he stood, he’d have to face her and it was the last thing he wanted to do.

He wanted to face her with a straight spine, sword at his side, a hand extended. My lady, he’d say, and her cherubic cheeks with her freckles would blush as red as her beautiful curls. Will you take me as your husband? He’d ask and show her how much he wanted her, instead of being ordered to. Her heart shaped mouth would part in surprise, her doll-like features bright with joy. Her fingers would slip into his, cold to his hot and he’d wrap her up and keep her warm. Warm and smiling and happy until they were old and gray and crumbling into dust.

Gods, he’d be so good to her.

Instead, she was alone over there and he was alone over here, dizzy and smelling of wine and vomit with a bite mark from one of the women he’d fucked either last night or mayhaps it had been in the early hours of this morning, right on his thigh from a less than stellar servicing.

The names of the others his mother and grandfather had listed off floated through his mind. Every single suitor was surely more worthy to be whatever it was they wanted him to be; every single one another reminder that they were forcing this. They weren’t even giving her to him, not to love like he wanted. No, they were taking his Maiden and turning her into a pawn just like him, placing her on the board beside him to move them both as his mother and grandfather pleased.

It felt like something sacrificial; dark and maybe sacred in whatever deals had been made, whatever machinations brewed behind the curtains that he could not see.

Everything worth having was meant to be claimed as he had Sunfyre, not shoved into his arms behind deceptively passive smiles.

A butterfly with green and blue wings edged in black floated across his vision and he wondered if Helaena had come out here recently. A fat bumblebee came afterwards, and he remained still and unblinking as it came near his nose, So close he could feel the brief brush of air from its buzzing wings, before it wandered away towards something that was far prettier and smelled better.

As Aegon’s ears adjusted to the sounds of the garden, he could finally make out the trickle of water from the fountain, and amidst it, the quiet murmur of Abby’s voice as she must be talking or humming to herself. He focused on the sound, as loathsome as he felt, and it helped ease the knots that had wound their way between his ribs. It always had. Long ago, when they were small, he’d crawl under tables to hide and press his heated skin against the cold floor. Her fingers would stroke his hair, and he’d plead for extras out of the treats she’d pilfer from the kitchens.

He hummed softly, soothing himself as he tried and gathered up the courage to rise shakily to his feet. His head spun, and he wobbled a bit before turning to focus on where she had gone. The humming caught in his throat as he finally focused on the sight before him, air leaving his lungs.

The fountain deep within the overgrowth still ran. Cool, crystal clear water poured from the cupped palms of the kneeling dragon queen. Queen Rhaenys tilted her lovely face up, a joyful expression forever etched in stone as the head and neck of her dragon, Meraxes, curled around her protectively.

They said that the Conqueror had never recovered the body of his love, for Rhaenys had died in Dorne and they’d only brought back the dragon’s head. Meraxes was ensconced below in Balerion’s Hall, for his sire was allegedly a romantic, although it was the Black Dread that was worshiped. He privately thought - since none cared for his voiced opinions - that his namesake would rather it be Meraxes they worshiped, or the two together. Aegon wondered if they interred part of the lost Queen within the garden, for the Conqueror’s tower loomed above the cloisters, and the King would look down upon the garden, where he sought solace after her passing.

Joy, his maester once said, had left the world when Rhaenys died, and that loss of joy gave rise to Maegor. As a child, he thought he’d marry his Maiden out of desire just as his namesake did Queen Rhaenys. As a child in their games, he was the Conqueror, and she his joyful queen, who he’d rescue from a terrible fate in Dorne, or from dastardly lords who’d want to claim her. Jaceaerys’ had played Harren the Black once, with Abby taking part of the hostage Queen (even though it never really happened, it didn’t matter). How fierce and bright his joy had been to hear her call out for him while he climbed the rocky outcropping of ‘Harren’s Tower’. How hard he fought to rescue her from Jacaerys’ clutches, where she’d cling to him and he’d protect her as they made their escape. For he could do what the Conqueror could not - save the one who held his heart.

How much he enjoyed being the hero to the rest of them. How he lived for her reliance on him as her protector in their mock battles.

The weeping cherry tree towered over this part of the garden. Its branches spread out and dappled the morning light that streamed in. Moss ran over the stone path of the garden and along the edges of the fountain where Rhaenys’ statue reached out to him. His red-rimmed eyes moved from the stone face to where Abby sat. She focused on something in the water, one hand reaching up to brace on the snout of the stone dragon as she leaned over. The long ends of her curls dragged through the water with the motion as she pushed something, murmuring words he couldn’t hear. A laugh escaped her as her mouth broke into an amused smile, so unlike the frightened one she gave him in the tower. The smile she wore to comfort others when she was afraid.

I loved a maid as red as autumn, with sunset in her hair.

The wind shook petals from the tree, sending the pink cascading down to blanket the surrounding area, and caught in her delicate curls. She did not notice him, and he approached quietly as the moss muffled his footsteps.

“Oh dear, not there, you little sailor. This way with the current,” she said, her laughing tone was bright, but he could hear the tremulous edge beneath it. Her hand reached out to a floating leaf, a tiny frog perched happily upon it.

Aegon moved slowly so as not to startle her. Perhaps he was buying himself time, knowing that everything careful in the moment was on the precipice of shattering. He stepped towards her, so close he could nearly feel the gentle warmth of her form. The scent of bergamot and rose clung softly to her hair, and as he leaned down to sit beside her, he instinctively raised his arm to catch around her waist lest she tumble into the cold water.

He froze. Her eyes met his in the reflection.

The back of his throat burned.

“Careful.” His voice was hoarse and raw, and even in the ripples of the water he could see how pale and sallow he looked. How pitiful compared to the delicate look of hers. “You don’t want to fall and hit your head.”

He pulled his arm back. He could not initiate. She was welcome to do so, but Aegon? Aegon was a greedy thing. It gnawed like a dragon in his chest. He did not trust himself to ever touch first, to not pull her into his ribs and cage her inside of him, to not make her his to hold and hoard.

He felt dizzy and the burning in the back of his throat grew. His vision spun and Aegon dropped to his knees on the ledge and plunged his head beneath the water before he could vomit all over her. The world was pleasantly muffled beneath the water, and he shut his eyes, exhaling bubbles in the water. Time slowed, the heat of his skin cooled, and Aegon felt like he was floating. Even his headache had eased.

Hands gripped and tugged at his shoulders, pulling him from the floating world he had hidden himself in. Abby left him gasping and sputtering, her little fists shaking him, and he finally focused on her tirade. “Careful not to hit my head? Aegon! What are you doing?” she cried.

Water streamed down his face, plastering his hair to his head and obscuring his eyes. Sputtering and coughing for air, Aegon felt the bubbling of giggles falling from him like a madman. His shoulders shook, delighting in her reaction and the way her usually calm demeanor gave way to worry and annoyance.

It should not have brought him great joy to see her reaction, and yet…

Aegon’s giggles continued, although he had the great decency to try to soften them at the angry flash in her lovely blue eyes. The fabric of her blue dress had darkened in spots from the water he’d sent everywhere; it soaked her sleeves up to the elbows and his eyes caught a few beads of water tracing down her throat into the square neckline of her dress, along the soft sprinkle of freckles and… he should not be looking, but she was his betrothed now. That meant it was okay, right?

He tore his gaze from the blush that spread along her throat. He should not look. He could not look. He could not be trusted.

“At least we like one another,” she offered with her usual hopefulness and tried to get him to meet her eyes. “That counts for something, doesn’t it, Aegon?”

Stop saying my name, he thought. Then, never stop saying it, Seven, never stop.

Aegon snorted, his laughter bursting forth before he could even stop and think of it. The water that still trickled over his face spewed out from his nose and he could feel his face heat from his dance at the edge of hysterics. Amusement and abject panic, always. “Like one another?” he gasped out amid his fit. He fell back onto the grass. “What a grand marriage liking one another will make.” His own parents had liked one another once, and he dealt with the fallout of that every moment he drew breath.

Tears welled up in his eyes from his exertions and as the laughter settled, he realized he was alone in it. Confusion overtook the panic, and he finally focused on her.

Abby still sat on the edge of the fountain, her head turned away. Her curls hung down and spilled once more into the water, but he could see how red her face was. One arm had wrapped itself around her waist with fingers hooked into her belt; the other gripped the edge of the worn stone with white knuckles. There were no twitching, bloody fingers, but the cut of her shoulders tensed all too familiarly, too familially.

Her chin was trembling and her teeth had bitten into the plump pink of her lower lip. A bead of blood welled and rolled down her chin. Red streaked across her flushed skin when she hurriedly wiped it away.

Aegon’s laughter eased, his mouth dry, mirth still clear from the tear streaks on his cheeks, and something painful and heated ignited in the pit of his stomach.

Good, he thought. It was good that he’d upset her. It was good for her to expect less.

“You know, I didn’t ask for this either, Aegon.” Her tone was even, but instead of gentle, it was sharp. A sudden swipe of claws because his ankle had gotten too close to the cat who had been napping there. “I never asked for you.”

I never wanted you, he heard lurking beneath, and that ugly, heated thing burned inside of him. She couldn’t even look at him and Aegon’s heated cheeks darkened and he could feel it spreading down his neck, past his soaking collar, until it felt like his very heart might burst out of his chest at the humiliation that was settling in.

“I never asked for you either.” He was pushing up to his feet just as she was, and she still would not look at him. “Aren’t you getting the better deal out of this, anyway? I’m making you a fucking princess. Abrogail-” He reached out to jerk at her arm that still wrapped around her waist, fingers harsh and angry and Aegon could not help himself.

A chirp escaped her, The same sort she made when she touched a bowl that was too hot, or stabbed herself with her embroidery needles.

She finally looked up at him, and the humiliation he felt deepened as the shame threatened to manifest and noose around his neck. Her mouth pinched white around the edges except for the blood that welled along where she’d bitten her lip, her large blue eyes glossy and shining in that way he hated and had promised once upon a time, childishly, to protect her from.

The urge to drag his tongue along the streak of crimson across her mouth was growing, anything but childish and he forced his focus to anything else. His eyes darted to the hand that held her upper arm and the way his fingers pressed in hard enough to push in the fabric of her pretty, now wet, dress. So distracted by his hand on her arm, Aegon did not notice her other hand rise until she clawed at the exposed skin of his wrist and he howled in pain, immediately releasing her and looking at the four streaks of red across the back of his wrist and the blood that welled up.

Good, he thought again, as instead of that helpless look she had, it morphed into something flushed and angry at him. Better this than that biddable sweetness she used to placate herself and others. Better her rage than delusion.

I’m sorry, his lips moved to try form the words but her delicate hands came up and shoved him with a grunt. There wasn’t a lot of strength behind it, but with how unsteady he was already, it took little to send him sprawling back on his ass on the ground.

“I’ve never asked for anything from you, Aegon,” she croaked out. Her skirts gathered in her hands, she all but ran from him and the garden, disappearing behind the dripping wisteria and into the Keep.

Good.

Aegon scowled at his reflection in the fountain, and scattered it in his frustration.

“You were missed at council today, Viserys,” Alicent said as the doors to the King’s chambers were shut behind her, her voice as clipped as her footsteps along the stone floor.

A slight cough shook the King’s shoulders. He had been unwell the past few weeks, but was getting around again now, finally out of bed and reclined in his chair with furs piled around him. Maester Mellos had expressed concern about him losing the rest of the arm, but they’d saved it. Viserys hummed, turning the pages of the book before him, and Alicent was truly taken aback by how similar Aemond and Viserys were. The boy had spent little time around his disinterested father, so she could not attribute the similarity - the tone of the hum, the focus on the book of histories rather than to whatever she might be saying - to anything other than inheritance.

At least the disinterest was not among the traits passed down. Aemond paid attention to her. Aemond listened to her. Aemond, her baby boy, her brightest star, cared for her, and heard her.

A fondness built in her chest - rare the past handful of years. She had not always felt resentment towards her husband. Once, she even enjoyed his company, sitting and listening to him speak of matters that were close to him, being a valuable voice of reason. It was Viserys who had opened the seat on the Small Council to her, as his queen, gifting her something not even Aemma Arryn had.

Perhaps that was why it all hurt so much.

“We have summoned the Lords Blackwood and Bracken, along with Lord Tully - I’m assuming the grandson - to answer for the continued violence that has not ceased.” Alicent’s report fell from her like a page bringing a missive to their master and the familiarity of the charade grated on her nerves but she kept her tone neutral. A simple recounting of events to keep the king apprised of the council that she ran now.

That received a response. Viserys tilted his head with a curious furrow of his brow. “Why ever for? It is a Riverlands matter, Not something to concern ourselves with.”

“It is not simply a Riverlands matter when they are burning each other’s lands and whomever gets caught in the crossfire. Lord Tully will not bring them to heel,” Alicent normally did not snip so quickly in their conversations, but her concerns and worry overshadowed her careful control. Of course, Aegon frayed her nerves more than they already were. She was on edge, as time with her eldest always pushes her to. “The council thought it best that we summon the three houses together for mediation, so they may see that their actions have far-reaching implications.” She paused, reaching to pick up the dragon figurine atop one of the dusty buildings. The stone mason had done a remarkable job fixing it all those years ago. The cracks were barely visible, but still there. “Should the Riverlands show weakness, the Ironborn may decide that may prove better ground for raiding once more.”

“Mmm, sounds like Tyland would rather have the Riverlands bicker and peck at one another then. I believe Lord Farman wrote of a raid a few moons ago? Best to give them somewhere else to look. I fear the Ironborn will always be trouble no matter what.” Viserys chuckled at his own black humor and Alicent nodded, a tight smile creasing her features. Tyland knew ships, knew the sea, but he was no Corlys Velaryon, who had no plans to return to shore soon, judging by the last updates he’d sent from the Stepstones. “A slow meeting, then?”

The pumice stone scraped softly as she put the dragon back. “We announced the engagement of Aegon to Abrogail Strong.” Viserys looked confused once more before recollection dawned on him and he made a quiet ‘ah’. “The Grand Maester and Lord Tyland thought that, with Aegon’s name day approaching, we might combine the celebration and throw a tournament, and maybe a hunt.”

The fire crackled in the quiet and Alicent finally allowed herself to relax and pour herself a cup of wine from the side table before taking a seat on the chair normally reserved for the stonemason. She did not mind a bit of dust. “Aegon will be eight and ten. A man grown, A man who will now marry and start a family of his own. That is worthy of celebration, is it not?” A sad smile crossed her face as she met her husband’s eyes and found a mirror of her own expression there.

“Aye, it is. I remember how much he laughed when we took him on that hunt. Do you remember?” Wistful, Viserys tilted his head and picked up a half carved dragon. “Waving his wooden dragon around, his joyful laughter.” A lump formed in Alicent’s throat, and she occupied herself with her wine glass. “He was always laughing, I remember that, before the others came along. Didn’t enjoy sharing the spotlight, did he?” Another chuckle. “But I think we’ve raised a fine boy, haven’t we?”

It was Alicent’s turn to be struck dumb. The recollection of Grandmaester Mellos struggling to find anything to say about her son came back to mind and the stab of pain between her ribs had her turning her head with a nod and a hum. Unbidden, she thought of Rhaenyra, crying softly beside her in the sept for the loss of her mother, and the confusion at feeling as if her own father did not understand her. Alicent took a gulp of wine. Quiet for a moment before she allowed herself to speak. “Yes, my love, we have raised a fine boy.”

“My father would find it strange, you know, that Aegon does not marry Helaena. Your father thought we should wed Rhaenyra to Aegon, but Laenor, rest his soul, was such a good man.” The comment had Alicent’s eyes widening, and she nearly choked as she took another sip of wine.

“He suggested what?” Whatever expression she had earned laughter from the king as she dabbed at her wine soaked chin.

“That was my reaction,” he chuckled. “Ridiculous. Things have a way of working themselves out, though, do they not? Why, I jested with Lyonel that very night if he was going to offer his son to marry Rhaenyra after Jason Lannister thought he could offer my daughter compensation.”

Funny that, Alicent thought, keeping her features still as the stone that lay between them. Guilt twisted in her belly at the memory of Lyonel Strong. How grateful in her grief and solitude she had been for the warm companionship of her cousin, Celeste, his wife. How grateful for the kindness she and Lyonel had shown her - the closest she had to family that were not her own children. How guilty she still felt to know that Lyonel’s death was through her own desperation.

“Lord Lyonel would approve the match. I recall we had discussed it once, not long before…” She swallowed, her mouth gone dry, and Alicent flexed her fingers against her goblet, stretching them out like a cat flexing its claws. The tension that ran through them ached.

Viserys hummed again, losing his longtime friend visible on his features and he drummed his fingers upon the book before him. “Did he? He never mentioned it to me, but…” A shift of his countenance as he visibly recoiled against the sadness and grief. “Aegon will find a fine wife in the Strong girl, if she’s anything like her father. Lyonel did well to temper some of my admittedly more foolish ideas. I may have been more inclined to listen without issue had they come from a comely maiden.”

Another pang, this time as she recognized the smirk on Viserys’ face as the same she’d seen across Aegon’s as he teased his siblings with some ribald comment.

That had come from observation, she was certain. As had the drinking.

Alicent took another sip of her wine.

“Lord Larys has suggested that after they’re married, Aegon and Abrogail would go to Harrenhal. She is his heir. Aegon could do well to have some responsibility. We will have to decide what to do with Sunfyre.”

“You cannot separate a boy from his dragon. Rhaena housed Dreamfyre at Harrenhal when she resided there. We’ll ensure they’re up to snuff before they go.” A glimmer crossed his features, curiosity and excitement. “My grandfather gave Harrenhal to the Strongs. It seems fitting that we have come full circle. You know, it was a Strong who was the longest serving Hand of the Conqueror. They are the most loyal of friends. Advisors. Defenders.”

It was her turn to hum, biting back the urge to invoke how Ser Lucamore Strong had sired nigh a dozen bastard children before being sent to the Wall. At least in Ser Harwin’s case, he had not been a Kingsguard - not that vows had stopped Rhaenyra before. Alicent took a breath, willing the vindictiveness to bleed out of her. Those were unkind things to think, for Harwin was not the one at fault. The princess’ whims drove Harwin, as poor, loyal Criston before him, into her clutches.

Rhaenyra had never been offered up on a platter - not in the way she’d been, not in the way she was doing to Abrogail. Mother above, please forgive me, Celeste.

Alicent did not seek to fill the silence. She watched her husband look at his book, but knew he was not truly reading it. No, he was planning something, tapping down his temper, or both. Viserys always had a temper, even if it rarely burned as hotly as Rhaenyra’s did. She had gotten better at withstanding the heat, as she’d gotten better at withstanding many things over the years.

“Why aren’t we marrying Aegon and Helaena?” he finally asked. It was only a question, no lure and trap beneath his words. “You were so against the match with Rhaenyra’s boy, so why not them? Had I a living sister, I would have married her. It’s the Targaryen way.”

The Targaryen Way is not always the right way, she thought. Aegon’s claim would need to challenge Rhaenyra’s without question, but her solution would not be to yoke her sweet daughter to her own brother simply because they were half dragons.

She remembered Aemond, maimed and covered in bandages to protect the wound from infection, standing in the doorway of the solar at breakfast. It had left her speechless in the moment, but now the memory left a slight smile gracing her face.

“Because Aemond bonded with Vhagar, and declared that should Helaena marry anyone but him, he would burn the realm down and us with it.”

The sentence hung in the air until Viserys roared with laughter and Alicent joined him. It had been so long since she had laughed that tears pricked the corners of her eyes. It felt good to laugh with the man she called husband, than to feel so terribly lonely.

“Spirited! Boy knows what he wants.” He slapped his hand on the open book before him with another laugh. “Well, how about a two-fold celebration? We could-”

“I thought, perhaps, a Baratheon marriage might suit Aemond. He is of an age with Lord Borros’ eldest. With Abrogail leaving, she may also make a fine companion for Helaena, and maybe another sister for the Harrenhal court. I was going to write to him, invite her to the Keep so they may get to know one another.” Helaena would need time to adapt to a new companion, and she was not looking forward to the fallout of the changes should her daughter not go along with it. Viserys’ laughter ebbed and Alicent swirled the wine in her goblet. The garnet liquid caught the firelight. Fire and blood. She tapped her fingers along the sides of it, knowing that she had to be careful. “The gods blessed us with three sons and a single daughter. We should take advantage of that to help spread some stability in the realm.”

Sons you so desperately wanted and then summarily denied.

“Is the realm truly so unstable, wife?” Sharp, pink-lilac eyes turned to her. Another expression, this one similar to the gaze that Helaena took when she was trying to convey something of import. The color was different: Aegon’s eyes were his father’s, Helaena’s closer to lavender, Aemond’s a periwinkle, and Daeron’s a cornflower blue so commonplace they’d pass for Andal were their shine not so luminous.

“No, but we have four children, husband, who will need to have their futures ensured and cared for,” she pointed out reasonably and nothing she said was wrong. Their futures needed to be assured. Viserys gave little response, but she could see he knew she was right. Quiet reigned once more. She noticed cobwebs had formed along the primary thoroughfare of the stone city.

“The blood of the dragon must remain pure, Alicent,” Viserys said with a strength absent from before. Alicent looked over at her husband, who did not look at her. Instead, he’d risen and stepped closer into the inlet of his miniature Valyria. “We are above mortal men. We are dragonriders, and dreamers of great things. Aegon the Conqueror dreamed of great things, of this realm that has, in fact, become great.”

Where was Viserys going with this? “I remember you telling me. Aegon’s second name day, in front of the bonfire.” He’d been mad with grief and drink, had scared her with his dream of Aegon wearing the crown in front of an adoring crowd - how Aemma had paid the price for chasing it, with his doubt and confusion as their son slept soundly in his little bed. She opened her mouth to press the matter, but the king continued.

“You are not a Targaryen, my dear wife, but that does not mean that no matter how you dress them in green, your children will be anything but.” Alicent drew back in her chair and the grip on her cup tightened. Her children, not his. Not his no matter what happened. “Pursue this Baratheon marriage if you’d like, and should Aemond want it, then it’s fine with me. If his mind is not changed, then they have my blessing.”

Abrogail felt like she was fraying at the edges, unmoored from her usual sense of self: calm, collected, able to focus regardless of what was on her mind. None of that mattered in the wake of what happened in the tower or what followed between her and Aegon. She’d barely allowed herself any time to collect herself before joining Helaena and Aemond in the gardens, letting Aemond fill the silence as Helaena’s focus ebbed and flowed.

So distracted she’d been, thoughts lingering on the morning’s events, that she hadn’t heard Helaena’s persistent calling until she’d snapped a frustrated “What?” to be met with Helaena’s surprised gasp and wide eyes… which in turn had Aemond turning an angry eye to her viciously. He hadn’t said anything particularly harsh, but with her own guilt at snapping and Aegon’s behavior, and then Aemond’s anger, she’d left the gardens in tears, ignoring Helaena’s calls for her to come back. The princess hadn’t ordered her return. Perhaps for the best.

Perhaps she’d be pulled from her service sooner than anticipated, and replaced with Penrose. Punished for her insolence. Marrying Aegon, did that mean she was on the same level as Helaena? That once married, Helaena couldn’t order her about, or that Abby was meant to serve her?

More often than not, Abrogail was Helaena’s bedmate, the two girls sharing pillows since she’d become the princess’ proper companion. It meant that her rooms outside the holdfast had all but been abandoned. She was a visitor more often than a tenant, so much so that it had taken Allana Tyrell and Josana Lannister a moment to recognize her when they passed in the halls - the elder girls arrived at court after a season away - and exchanged pleasantries. Abrogail all but ran the last few yards to her destination, and nearly slammed the heavy door shut behind her.

The apartments that belonged to Larys were modest, housing only a sitting room and two bedrooms: Larys’ to the left and hers to the right. So unlike the warm, multiple levels of the Hand’s tower that she’d spent years exploring and playing in. The room was empty when she burst in and she was grateful that her quiet, piercing elder brother could not witness her state as she sought solace in the cold and empty chamber. There was no warm fire crackling merrily in the hearth to welcome her, and she had to go back to the sitting room to fetch the pitcher of water there to clean her face from the tears and calm the burning of her cheeks. Not even Theraxis was there to comfort her as he often did, rolled onto his back, fluffy belly offered to bury her face in and have her hair licked by his sandpaper tongue.

A sob tore at her chest and she gulped the rest down and went to the bed and collapsed upon the cold sheets. Fingers curling in the comforter, she tried her best to hold back her tears. Even alone, she could not let the despair overcome her.

It had not been long after her mama died that Corynna, her elder half sister and Larys’ sister, had sent word that she would take her sweet little sister as she needed a strong, motherly presence in her life. Abrogail had been distraught and trying to hide it as they had fallen into a game of hide and seek that bright day.

I’ll marry you, Aegon had whispered into her hair, the pair of them hiding beneath the heavy boughs of a flowering bush as Jacaerys played seeker in their game of hide-and-seek. I’ll marry you and they won’t send you away because you’ll be mine. They’d been little more than babes in leading strings then, where Aegon’s smile had not faded into bitterness and her life had still been warm and safe. Crumbled sweets shared as the pair did their best to hide from the persistent Jace, and it had been Harwin who found them hours later. Asleep surrounded by the scent of rhododendrons and petals caught in red and silver heads both.

She did not know how long she lay atop her bed, only that the shaft of sunlight through the narrow window inched across the bed and across her skirts until the familiar drag-thump drew her notice towards the door. Larys was generally quiet and she’d only heard it for it was a sound she knew her whole life.

Her brother was taller than he generally appeared, and in the half light of the early evening, for a moment Abrogail thought he looked very much like their father. The same widow’s peak, the similar set of the jaw even though Lyonel had been a larger man than his second son. She sat up, swiping her sleeve across her face as Larys watched her with his inscrutable look.

“I needed to be alone,” she said softly. “I apologize for bothering you.” She wasn’t sure if she truly needed to apologize for being in her own room, but it was often difficult to discern her brother’s reaction to her. They weren’t close, and their relationship was not a warm one. Abrogail felt that when it came to her, Larys Strong was not quite sure what to make of her or even what to do with her.

“It is your room,” he finally said with a tilt of his head and an ambivalent shrug. She watched him as he perused the area, lingering on the empty grate and then to her. Years of practice kept her from instinctively shifting beneath his gaze but it was still an uncomfortable feeling being sized up. “Although it is not very comforting for what troubles you. I’m sure today has been more than a shock to you, sister.” Abrogail opened her mouth, then closed it with a click and merely nodded. He let out a hum and tapped his cane on the floor before opening the door further. “Well, it all works out in the end. I meant to speak with you this evening anyway. Come - Father would insist you have a belly full of warm food to dry your tears.”

As if on cue, her stomach growled and the scent of fresh bread and meat finally registered. She was starving, having only eaten that morning and so she followed her brother into the sitting room. It was warmer, the fire blazing, and the table was set with plates of food and fresh Malvales flowers in a vase. Abrogail frowned slightly at the sight of them. The only other place she’d seen them other than the Godswood was in the Queen’s chambers. She knew her brother counseled Queen Alicent and they shared meals from time to time, but the flowers still seemed strange. The servant who’d brought the food ladled fresh, steaming boar stew onto plates and Abrogail reached for a warm roll when her eyes caught on the basket of cakes to the side. They glistened with syrup, and the fresh scent of oranges assaulted her when she drew close until her brother’s sharp tsk stopped her. “For after you’ve finished your plate.” A slight twitch of a smile when he sat himself down, dismissing the servant and for a moment she simply stared at him.

“You sounded so much like Papa,” she said as she sat across from him.

“Mmm, I do hear that sometimes. I suppose one tends to pick up manners from their elders. How often I’ve heard those very words come from him, hm?” She scrunched her face up with a half smile playing on her own features and quietly dug in.

Neither Strong attempted to fill the silence as they tucked into their meal. Only the scrape of cutlery and the quiet sounds of eating filled the space. It didn’t feel like a standoff between them, even more so than when it was Larys who finally broke the silence.

“Cory will be mollified by the fact that you’re marrying a prince instead of one of the Lannister bannermen,” he said nonchalantly as he spoke of his sister. “She’s been hounding me to send you to her, but I know how much this place is home to you. Harrenhal is a far closer ride on your husband’s dragon than in a wheelhouse or on a ship from Lannisport.”

“Has she?” Abrogail wasn’t sure what else to say as the thoughts that swirled through her continued to distract her. Her and her sister were not at all close. Clever and sharply delicate, Corynna Strong could have gone to the Citadel had she been born a man. Instead, she had begrudgingly married the third Lannister son as the eldest was unavailable and Abrogail privately thought that their father had sent Cory away to be kept under the hawkish, watchful eye of Johanna Lannister instead of getting underfoot there in King’s Landing.

Abrogail did not complain. The few times she’d been with her, Cory was a sharp, judgemental woman who always had a criticism for how to improve herself, and more often than not had taken to pinching her arms and waist and assessing with that inscrutable countenance she shared with Larys. “Uncle Otto mentioned several,” she paused to tear at a piece of bread to keep from fidgeting. “Several, um, suitors? You never mentioned them.”

“Well the Queen didn’t either and although I am your brother, and head of our house, you are her ward, and because she is Queen, she too has a say in who, ah, takes you.” Larys looked apologetic and uncertain of how to word it and she nodded in understanding to put him at ease. “Her Grace is quite fond of you, you know. She only wants what is best for you, as if you were her own daughter. It is sweet. Your mother would be pleased.”

Abrogail bit her lip and looked down at her plate. Tines of the fork scraped along the edge pushing meat through sauce. Targaryens have queer customs, marrying their siblings or their uncles, she thought. Would her and Aegon’s children have to wed one another, as was tradition? Her head pounded with all the questions and she struggled to find a place to begin.

“Yes, I think she would,” she said finally and met her brother’s concerned gaze. It was the softest she’d ever seen him, which was saying a lot given his nature. For the first time, Abrogail felt like her brother might actually feel like her brother. “I don’t know where to start with all my questions, Larys,” she found herself admitting, reaching to him across this distance. “From being your heir, to how this all came to happen. I’m so overwhelmed and…” she trailed off with a slump of her shoulders and another lump in her throat.

She reached for her goblet of red wine, trying to push the feeling away. A wince crossed her features as the sharpness of it hit her tongue. She tended to favor the sweetness of ciders and meads.

The scent of the arbor red reminded her of Aegon.

Abrogail put the goblet down and cleared her throat. “Excuse me, brother.”

“No need, dear sister. Being overwhelmed is only natural in this case, but your willingness to be open with your questions reassures me that you and I can start forging our own road. You are my heir, and although we are not close, I do care for you, Abrogail.”

“Do you?” she asked. She raised her eyebrows. “Larys, you’ve made it abundantly clear that you don’t even like me.”

He matched her expression with his own. “I do. Besides, you are a woman grown now and far easier to talk to than a rambunctious child of eight.” Abrogail felt her cheeks heat and she couldn’t find fault in his argument there. A soft chuckle escaped him and she watched him resume tearing apart a roll. He did it so oddly and always had. Fingers carefully working along the circumference of the warm bread and slowly spreading it apart, so the soft interior gently pulled as if he savored the very act.

To be fair, it was good bread.

“There are none that attract my gaze, and I doubt there ever shall be. Given that I have little penchant for things like mistresses or whoring, there will be no progeny. Corynna’s rights are forfeit, as she’s married a Lannister.” He paused, gazing at her for a long moment until she realized he expected an answer from her.

Abrogail frowned as she thought. Corynna had married a third son, but the children of that union may very well wed Lord Jason’s son, Or marry into banner houses should they not have more children. Or even become heirs of the Rock. “As long as Rhaenyra is heir, Aegon is fourth in line. If he marries me, he gains a title and lands,” she said slowly. Jacaerys would take the throne one day, and Lucerys would have Driftmark. Little Joffrey may very well marry into another great house, but there were no more titles and lands to pass off, and that was before Queen Alicent’s children were considered, and the Queen wanted Aegon to be King.

To say it out loud would be treason, and when Abrogail’s eyes found Larys’, he gave an encouraging nod. “Harrenhal would provide income independent of what is owed the crown?” Uncertainty laced her voice. She did not know much about her family’s seat. She’d only been there a handful of times, half of them having been full of grief and misery, but she did know that outside of hushed whispers of curses and ghosts, that Harrenhal’s lands were the richest in Westeros when they were handled properly. “Harrenhal is why those other families wanted me, isn’t it?”

“Some,” Larys said matter of factly. “Tully and Vance in particular given their proximity and would benefit the most. Others claimed to be enchanted by the young beauty they’d heard of growing in the Queen’s garden.” The words sounded too poetic for the man her brother seemed and the incredulous look on her face must have been all he needed, for Larys actually laughed. A strange, unused sound and a shake of his head. “Those were the words of the Vance heir, I believe. Should they have been romantic enough, you could still say no to this current arrangement.”

No, Abrogail thought. No, she couldn’t.

She wanted to ask Larys why he would be alright with her saying no. If it had been her father, she would have. Her papa had never turned her curiosity and questions away. No matter how silly or simple they may have been, he was always happy to teach her. This was probably the longest conversation they’d had since the funeral, but Abrogail did not feel comfortable asking. Not yet. Maybe… maybe someday.

“Thank you,” she said instead with a small smile and Larys seemed pleased with that. “I would like to learn more about Harrenhal. Before the wedding and everything. I want to make you proud. I want to make Papa proud.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat and was grateful that Larys did not look up at her and instead focused on buttering another bread roll.

“As my heir, I will begin to discuss these things with you, and you should begin speaking with our uncle. He will be here for the engagement tournament.” The butter knife scraped against the wooden dish as he went for more. She watched his dark hair fall into his eyes, the way Harwin’s curls would and the tightening sensation in her chest came back. Another mouthful of wine, which only reminded her of Aegon again.

Aegon’s fingers in her hair, thumb brushing her tears in the quiet of the Sept. “I’m so sorry you lost them. I’m so sorry they’re gone.”

“Abrogail?”

She blinked and found him watching her with a gentle expression. He smiled that small smile of his. “I said, perhaps we can start having our own dinners. Get to know one another better.”

“You mean like how you have dinners with the Queen?” Once a week, the pair of them met privately in her solar. She’d seen them once through the window, the pair discussing things or the queen’s voice raised about whatever terrible thing had happened that week. A friendship. A council.

Larys’ smile broadened. “Yes, dear sister. Exactly like that.”

[Chapter Three]

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x oc #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen fic #aegon ii targaryen fic #aegon x abby #fic: the maiden and the drowning boy #my fics

[fractiflos]

Could you do Shinomori and Banjo for a princess mononoke au? 👉👈 Thanks!

Before you read the rest of this, you may want to take a seat. Because I, Jane Alice Rosewood*, have never seen a Studio Ghibli movie. Not one. (*My Ao3 username btw)

BUT I got an HBO subscription to watch Fionna & Cake, and they happen to have it there. So, I took it as a sign, and decided to watch it, which is why this took so long. I hope this was worth the wait. Figuring out who got what role was fun.

Daigoro is not a prince. He just doesn't have the personality for it. Instead, he's a man of normal status with a boisterous personality. When a demon was about to kill some other villagers, he reacted out of pure instinct and grabbed a rope, somehow managing to hog-tie it. Then he ran close and stabbed it, which killed it, revealing that it used to be a boar god. Unfortunately, it managed to grab his arm, cursing him. After receiving the news that the boar god became that way because of an iron ball shot into it, he decides to go and find a way to make sure that doesn't happen again. He doesn't care that he's dying, he just hears that the forest gods are in danger and rushes to save them. His brother En only manages to catch him because he's on an elk and gives him some provisions, the elk, and his favorite dagger as a keepsake.

On his way to the west, he has to fight off several samurai and notices that part of the curse makes him stronger and he can shoot out black tendrils, like the ones that surrounded the cursed god. Later, he bumps into a friendly monk named Torino. and asks if he knows where the iron ball came from. The monk tells him about Iron Town and gives him directions along with a legend about the Great Forest Spirit, who may be able to heal his wound. Meanwhile, Prince Mononoke (Hikage) and his wolf dad, Mitsu (Third) are fighting against Lady Nana and her men. Unfortunately, Mitsu ends up getting shot with iron and falls off the cliff along with Hikage.

Daigoro is having a dandy time walking through the forest, singing songs and basically having his Disney moment out in nature. Then he and his elk (Kudo) find some injured men who also fell off the cliff. The men lead him to Iron Town.

Daigoro is fascinated by the technology and even helps out a little. Then Lady Nana tells him the history of the town. It's the same as in the movie, Lady Nana took in outcasts, they make iron by cutting down the forest to mine it, and that has caused conflict with the daimyō (It's Afo, and because we don't know his canon name, it's just Lord AFO). And Prince Mononoke was raised by wolves, causing him to hate humans.

Later that night, Hikage tries to kill Nana for shooting Mitsu, but Daigoro manages to tie him up and puts him on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. When the others try to fight back, he uses his strength to his advantage and literally jumps over the wall, but gets shot in the process. He's still strong enough to carry them to the forest before falling over.

Hikage wakes up and tries to stab him, but then Daigoro gets up, looks at him, and there is a long moment of silence before he shouts, "Damn, you look hot!" then passes out again. Hikage is so stunned he sits away in silence for the rest of the night.

As it turns out, Daigoro got healed by the Great Forest Spirit so Hikage decided to trust him. Meanwhile, both Nana and Torino desire the spirit's head to give to the emperor and set out to find it as they both want a reward. Torino wants money and Nana wants protection for the village.

Daigoro rushes back to Iron Town, after giving Hikage his brother's dagger, and sees that the boars tried to attack the village to avenge their dead comrade (Yoichi), only to be wiped out by Torino's mercenaries and Lord AFO's samurai are attacking the town. He finds another wolf being crushed by bodies and gets it out, encouraging the men to go home and help the women.

Meanwhile the boar clan's weak, old, blind leader, Toshinori, is tricked into leading Torino's mercenaries to the Great Forest Spirit (using the same, dressing in their dead pelts trick in the movie). Toshinori then ends up turning into a demon, and Hikage, who was trying to stop it, ends up getting swept up in the bloody tendrils. The Great Forest Spirit comes and causes both Toshinori and Mitsu to die.

Daigoro comes in and manages to pull Hikage out with his curse tendrils, but they both fall back into the lake. Meanwhile, the Great Forest Spirit is starting his Nightwalker transformation, so Nana shoots him, and manages to kill it, and Torino uses his speed to steal the head. It's a lucky thing that Daigoro and Hikage fell into the lake, as they managed to avoid the deadly ooze coming out of the spirit's body.

Hikage and Daigoro go to evacuate Iron Town then run after Torino, who has the head. They manage to convince him to give it back, and while the Great Forest Spirit still ends up dead, everything comes back to life, and Daigoro's curse is healed.

Daigoro wants to help the people of Iron Town, and Hikage, still distrustful of humans, elects to stay in the forest, so Daigoro promises to visit him. Torino leaves them alone and Nana promises to make the town better. The end.

I know I left a lot of things out, but then it would be too long, and besides, it's fun to see what people fill in the blanks with. That being said...

THIS WAS AN AMAZING MOVIE! I could write a whole essay post about this, but I'll spare you. I felt weird about this not being too different from the source material, but at the same time, that movie was so good, I don't want to change a whole lot. Even in an AU. Sorry about that. I hope you enjoyed this one anon!

#hikage shinomori #daigoro banjo #I'm not sure if this is very shippy but you can see it like that #Do they have a ship name? #hw ask game #look at me not turning Tomura into the elk. It was close though #but then I decided Second would be a better fit thanks to his hair color #jane's asks

[cherry-dr0p]

Haven't shown Tumblr much of Alice yet so here's a post dedicated to her.

[ CW: A whole LOT of OCxCanon ]

( This will also be a seperate AU so Im gonna tweak some things to fit Alice's story )

Another TW: Blood/gore warning.. The picture is kinda graphic so be cautious please!!

Summary of her story:

☆ Part 1: Photographic memories blurred. ☆

Before his death

Alice Moore is a 23 year old woman who works in a cafe in Brighton. She was originally dating Brian Stells before his passing. They lived in an apartment together after being in a relationship for a few years. She worked in the cafe whilst Brian was searching for a job, as they both were pretty broke at the time. Soon, Brian found a job as a facility caretaker in the newspaper. Brian was quite eager as it paid well, but Alice was more convinced of his safety more than anything. Eventually, Alice reluctantly agreed and let him take the job.

Note about paragraph above: If this was in the actual TWF series, this wouldn't be showcased as such. Perhaps little hints and clues to the information above in the series but it wouldn't be outright said (other than her occupation and name probably. Its also worthy to note Brian is like 24/25 in my AU)

After his death

Fast forward to afterwards, and Alice would be seen pacing up and down her apartment, waiting for Brian. It had been 2 hours since he had been due to come back from work, and there was no sign of him. The phone instantly rang, and it was her best friend Elise. She had questioned if Brian had returned yet, and Alice denied it. Elise apologised and after some silence, Alice expressed her wishes to go to the police. After a bit of debating, Elise reluctantly agreed for Alice to take this to the police. However, before the call ended, Elise muttered one thing;

"Dont do anything stupid, Alice. Please."

Alice nodded and hung up, saying her goodbyes. Before she went, she spotted an old camera laying around that she borrowed from Elise for something. She picked it up and took it with her, as something inside her was screaming for her to take it; that it'd be useful.

She then went to the police station and expressed her concerns with Brian's disappearance. The officer/receptionist nodded and questioned if Alice knew anything about the disappearance. Alice explained what happened and it was clear he thought Alice was joking or telling lies. He joked that if she could find evidence herself, then maybe he'd take the case seriously. However, Alice took this as no joke and then went off to St. Juana's forest, taking a bus.

The search for evidence (The main part of Alice's story)

Alice soon arrived in St Juana's forest (where she vividly remembered seeing the facility was here in the newspaper) on a snowy night with a flashlight in hand; She always kept a mini one in her pocket in case she needed it. It was a long wander to find something, anything that could relate to Brian's death. It was odd, as during her wanders, she spotted a shadow moving from the distance and children laughing. Though, she shrugged it off as her paranoia coming in. However, she spotted something on the ground from a distance. She walked over to check it out. It was...

She stood there... shocked... It couldn't be.

Brian... He's dead.

She couldnt help but fight back the tears - blocking out her feelings - as she used the camera to take a picture. It was then she let her emotions flow. She could hardly believe her eyes as she fell onto her kneed and held him close, sobbing. The one person she trusted and adored more than anything was laying there in the cold, covered in blood with his body mangled and tampered with.

Eventually, as she was sobbing onto his deceased corpse, she heard footsteps from afar. Her automatic reaction was to sprint until she reached a big cliff, with a bunch of fluffy snow covering the bottom. She looked back, panicked.

"What do you want from me?!"

Alice asked in a panicked manner, still unsure of who the two figures were as she glanced back. They seemed to be human figures. As they came into view, it was Chris and Felix. Alice was confused as she clutched the photos she had taken of the scenery to her. Felix beckoned her to give the photos back as they could be used "maliciously", so he states. Alice doesnt budge, and keeps a hard grip onto the photos. As Felix gets closer to try and intimidate her, Chris following along nervously (he does not want to be there, but was likely dragged there). Soon, as Felix backs her into a corner, Alice looks back down at the high cliff, calculating her fall as she looks back up at him. She claims that she'd rather die before giving him what he wants and letting him get away with everything. She falls back off the cliff, both Chris and Felix panicked, racing down to get to where she is.

Alice... she's numb with the snow that covers her. She cant move her leg or arm, and her hands have a off purple/blue colour to them. Alice attempts to fight back the tears and fight the feeling of the excruciating pain, but she struggles. She bursts into tears.

Felix and Chris makes it down there. Without a second thought, Felix snatches the photos from Alice, as much as Alice keeps her grip. She grimaces at both Felix and Chris as they both walk off. Her conciousness is slowly slipping as she mumbles the words;

"I'm so cold. . ."

And then, she's gone. Or so she thinks.

She wakes up in a hospital bed, a few people surrounding her. Nurses, a doctor, Elise, and a strange man with a clipboard. Elise greets her and sobs, claiming that she thought Alice was gone. Alice looks down and spots some body parts wrapped up in bandages. The man with the clipboard exclaims to want to speak to Alice in private, in which those around her lets him. Upon questioning, at the time, as she's questioned, she cant remember anything. Alice panics, as this has never happened to her before. All she can remember is Brian's corpse.

It was weird. Alice was determined she was gone for good. But, it's best to make the best of being given a second chance.

☆ Part 2: Mending The Past For The Future. ☆

Note: Excuse the angel Brian joke doodle 😭 I jus was feeling silly whilst drawing this,,,

I haven't completely fleshed out this part, but through the next few years, Alice is determined to gather evidence to do whatever it takes to take revenge on Felix and what he had done to her. In this part, Elise becomes a facility caretaker in order to help Alice and gather information for her - as Alice's first step is gathering evidence and information about Bon's Burgers/K-9 and their employees' disappearances - but eventually dies herself, which fuels her fury more. At some points, Alice doesnt know why she's been given a second chance at life, as it's filled with agony with those she cares for dropping like flies.

I haven't totally figured out her death and if she dies, but yk. We are so back.

And that's all I have :3 as a little reward for making it to the end, have some Alice/Brian doodles

Most of these are months old but I still like them :3

Alice's main quote from the show becomes "I'm so cold" because aaahh

#Alice Moore #Alice #Ive had this OC for years LMAO #I think she was made in 2021 #OC post #The Walten Files OC #TWFOC #TWF OC #The Walten files #The walten files art #I jus #Aaaaaa #This is like the least detailed version of the summary I can come up with... #OCxCanon #Oc x canon #Canon x OC #CanonxOC #I love them dearly #Brian Stells #Brian stells supremacy

[sirenjose]

Sorry to bug you again but when reading one of your theories, the one with Lady 13 and Sparrow, it highlights an aspect of Norton's personality that I don't think is covered often. When someone treats him kindly and respectfully, he's loyal to them to a tee.

I know there is Benny, and whether it's bias from some of my old theories from my 1st Norton analysis, I've always viewed Benny as primarily focused on/obsessed with finding gold to escape the "dumb" that is hospice. Mostly due to the language Benny uses in Norton's 1st letter (not to mention even before Norton's father died, based on Norton's 4th letter he was still thinking about finding gold back then too). It just feels a bit like Benny might be more concerned with himself than Norton (the language used in Norton's 1st and 4th letters could back this up). Losing his son Colin likely didn't help his personality either. Not saying Benny didn't care about Norton at all, but I think it might've not been enough, that maybe he didn't prioritize Norton enough.

Even Norton's live action backstory trailer that came with AoM2 didn't really change my opinion or suspicions/questions.

(I mean, how much did Benny help or provide for Norton after Norton lost his father? He still looks pretty lonely and having to be self-sufficient. And Benny still seemed focused on roping Norton into his gold scheme. But like I said, maybe I'm too suspicious due to a lack of info and thinking too hard on language.)

Honestly, I don't quite know how to phrase my thoughts right now, so apologies if this is nonsensical.

The issue with Norton is there are very few if any that have treated him kindly. Not with the environment and poverty he grew up in, and not after the mine incident, which gave him scars that scare off a good number of people, not to mention how it caused his mental state to further deteriorate and/or worsened his depression. Then there's how someone's hounding him with questions about the incident (and it's still possible Norton doesn't even remember everything that happened, but that's a separate theory). And now he's in a game competing for money that could help him escape poverty, but the other participants are all rich or better off than him, which only frustrates him further.

Another time Norton was actually loyal and trusted someone else like Sparrow to Lady Thirteen, is Ronald to Mr. Inference and Smarty Pants. Smarty Pants being the person who helped prove his father's innocence, even though he died before that could happen. And Mr. Inference is someone who he knew and grew close to due to both of them being in the military at the same time. Issue with that last one is we have very little information about what happened during their time in the military. Just that Ronald trusts him enough to say "If there's one good person left in town, it's either Smarty Pants or you", while Inference in other versions of Atropos' Ropes (not the English version) describes their friendship as "valuable" (he apparently says something along the lines of "But I guess I should thank you for a valuable friendship" in the JP version).

The only other time I can think of is in COA 4. Highway Cavalier starts selfish, but later changes, to the point as we see in the COA 4 trailer he tries to save his friends even though it gets him killed in a number of loops. And they were loyal to him back, as we know Reflective Mirror trusts him after he saves her (based on the COA package it says she fell off a cliff but he saves her from Molten Hound), potentially sharing her secret knowledge of the shortcuts in the race, while Pumping Tires actually sacrifices himself for Highway Cavalier to be able to defeat Molten Hound.

(And I still think COA 4's story is a hint towards what will happen with Norton in the main story, with Melly and Alice, to go against Orpheus/Nightmare)

[camilbarnessss]

¤ The Dance of The Dragons ¤

{ Aemond Targaryen }

《 Part 15 》

The One-Eyed Prince and The Rogue Princess married. Secretly, but they did, even after all the schemes and plots of their families so they couldn't. The lovers made their own discreet plot as well, and it is working just fine. Daera understands their position, the causes of their harsh decisions. However, anyone who was wronged like Aemond so many times was, is going to feel some sort of hatred, wether it's subconsciously or consciously, towards the people who did it. That is a hard true. But, what Aemond ends up doing above the skies of Storm's End, out of rage, and eternal resentment...ultimately starts the domino effect that would lead to The Dance of the Dragons, which will mean the lost of his sanity...and his love.

《 The Invitation's Second Season 》

Masterlist

Warnings: constant swearing, references to sex, angst and grief, mentions of death, HIGHLY EXPLICIT DEATH, mentions of blood, TARGARYEN INCEST [cousinXcousin]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Enjoy your reading!!! Likes, comments and reblogs will be highly appreciated ♡♡♡

In Storm’s End, watchers on the castle walls saw distant blast of flame, and would hear shrieks cutting the thunders. Everyone that knew which dragons had taken off from Darren’s Defiance imagined the same: the two beasts were locked together, lightning crackling around them.

■ ■ ■

《 Calm before the storm that already thundered 》

Vhagar was five times the size of her foe, the hardened survivor of a hundred battles. If there was a fight, it could not have lasted long. Though we did see what happened between the dark clouds, and so we can attest that the Fight above Shipbreaker Bay lasted more than perhaps ten minutes. Too little time for ones, mayhap, but let us remember The Queen of All Dragons could’ve easily ended the confrontation within a snap; it was prince Lucerys and his great rider skills than bought him and his dragon more time of life.

Yet, Arrax’s few remaining members fell, broken, to be swallowed by the storm-lashed waters of the bay. A leg and half-tail of his washed up beneath the cliffs below Storm’s End just hours after his butchering, to make a feast for crabs and seagulls.

So many theories arose between whisperers, in the years to come. Some claim that Prince Lucerys’ corpse washed up as well, and tells us that Prince Aemond cut out his eyes and presented them to Lady Maris Baratheon on a bed of seaweed. We know that’s excessive, and very much a lie.

Some say Vhagar snatched Lucerys off his dragon’s back and swallowed him whole. We know ‘tis the true version. It has even been claimed that the prince survived his fall, swam to safety, but lost all memory of who he was, spending the rest of his days as a simpleminded fisherman. Gods be good.

We shall give all these tales the respect they deserve…which is to say, none. Lucerys Velaryon, the sweet boy we lived, laughed and fought with since the commence of this story, died with his dragon. Our brother was fourteen years of age. His body was never found, though we yet may see that.

With his death, the war of ravens and envoys and marriage pacts came to an end, and the war of fire and blood began in earnest. But we will wait for the narration of this war a little longer. Believe us: the longer we postpone it, the better for our hearts.

Now we are up to date, knowing what is happening on each of the different sides of our history. We saw Jace and Daera conquering The Vale, we saw Aemond's and Luke's experiences in Storm's End, we saw Rhaenyra along her Black Council, and we saw Daeron arriving to King's Landing.

Now, let us turn back to him.

The youngest son of King Viserys I and his second wife, Alicent Hightower, is now at moments in the Godswood of the castle.

The prince, who’s just days away from turning eight-and-ten, is seated on a bench made of fine stone. From here, he feels a cold breeze and looks up at the white round moon, lightly smiling to it from his distance. The night is a quiet one that has brought him to reflections and thoughts.

His eldest brother, Aegon, is King of the Seven Kingdoms, sits the Iron Throne and is the highest authority of all Westeros. His elder sister has two beautiful children and is with child again, serving as a perfect wife to her husband. His elder brother, Aemond, flies about the realm to gain support for their brother’s throne.

Daeron can’t help but to think that his family is the freaking best. It only takes a glance to realize it; look at what everyone’s up to! There are times that the young man whishes dearly that he had grown here instead of Oldtown. He’d know them better, and he wouldn’t have had to ride Tessarion always alone in the skies. “How would it have been?”, he dreams.

The boy doesn’t know his luck.

-Daeron!-, a voice suddenly calls him. The prince stops smiling at the moon and turns around his face with tranquility, blinking quietly.

Dowager Queen Alicent nears to him with nervous steps, looking around anxiously while approaching with quickness. All of her jewelry clinks as she walks.

-What are you doing out here?!-. The Queen whispers, raising her brows as she reached to him, standing in front of her youngest son, who just shrugged-. It is dark and cold out here, and you alone-. She raises her brows.

-It is fresh-, he shrugges again, gifting her a little smile. Alicent shakes her head briefly, looking around-. The Godswood is always a good place to think, mother, which is what I am doing, do not need to worry-. The prince speaks funnily, cocking his head while looking at her.

-You must be tired, from your flight, Daeron-. The Dowager Queen speaks along little sighs, lightly moving her arms at the sides of her body.

-Sort of-. The boy shrugges, once again, showing no distress at all on his eyes. He’s so different from his mother-. I realized…Aegon didn’t make a feast, as he said he would-. He notices, lightly narrowing his eyes towards her.

Alicent briefly presses her lips, raising her brows a little and beginning to nod.

-The King came to the realization that holding a banquet was not appropriate for the evening-. She attests, crossing her hands over her belly-. He found it best to…behold his wishes-, she showed a quick smile.

That was a lie. She hasn’t even seen Aegon since they were at The Iron Throne Hall and he declared a feast was to be taking place in The Red Keep. Truth be told, “the King” got drunk, forgot about his idea, and kept getting drunk.

-Ah, wise-. Daeron smiles, nodding. His mother nods in silence, starting to wonder where her eldest son may be now. She spent great time of the day in the High Sept, praying, so she wouldn’t know-. Mother-, he appears before her eyes again.

Alicent breathes in deeply, getting off her deep thoughts. Daeron blinks while looking at her, noticing the strong grip on her own hands and how tense her shoulders are. He wonders whether she’s cold or anxious.

-Care to sit with me?-, he proposes, leaning to the right, and making space for her on the bench.

-I rather stand-. His mother answered, preferring to have a clear sight of the whole garden itself, which is still lonely, only the two of them here-. Thank you, dearest-. She’s quick to add, glancing at him.

Daeron accepted her decision with no offense, but still kept the space for her. The prince breathes calmly through his nose staring at the moon once again. There is silent for some time, in which he got thoughtful, and she kept looking around.

-May I ask you something?-. The queen’s son questions, still looking at the white circle in the sky.

Alicent pressed her scrunched lips, immediately assuming that he’s to ask about the situation at presence. The war.

-You may, son-. She allowed after gulping, maintaining a serious expression.

Dowager Queen wonders what he’d ask. “What would happen to us if Rhaenyra steals my brother’s throne?”, “How are our defenses?”, “Why didn’t you fight back to Rhaenys and her dragon?”, “Will someone kill me and my siblings?”.

-Did my father suffer, mom?-. Daeron asked, blinking slowly. In that moment, Alicent became speechless, parting her ever-pressed lips. Haven’t expected that question at all, she looks down to him with eyes that started to show emotion-. Did he suffer much…before parting?-. He furrows his brows lightly, gulping.

There’s true worriness on her child’s eyes; he truly feels for the father that barely paid him any sort of attention. He is not resentful. He…truly is completely different from his brothers.

Alicent licks her lips, thinking of her words before speaking them, under the purple eyes of her Valyrian son.

-We did everything in our and the Gods’ power so that your father didn’t suffer-. Alicent answered with tones of sweet, sugar-coating King Viserys’ sickness-. We cared for him…until the very end-. She assured, gifting him a slow honest smirk.

When hearing so, Daeron sighed, forming a smile as well.

-I am glad-, he whispers-. I am thankful-. The prince looks to her with relieve-. I know he is too, mom…-. Daeron promised with gentleness, raising a hand, and holding one of his mother’s.

Alicent curves her brows, sniffing her nose. Her shoulders slouched and her lips smiled sadly to him. She looks at the boy with a troubled love, honestly not understanding how is it that he can be so good.

Feeling a great deal of easiness while being with her youngest child, Dowager Queen Alicent prayed for forgiveness from the gods, and then lied to him.

-He oft asked for you, your father-. Alicent softly says. She saw Daeron’s immediate surprise and how he instantly smiled. That made her to show her teeth.

-Did he?-, the young princeling asks, wide-eyed and smiley, wanting more than ever to had been here much much sooner.

-He did, many a time-. His mother whispers tenderly, gripping his hand, and caressing his white hair with other. Daeron sincerely smiles to her, lifting his blushed cheeks.

Alicent loves him.

-And did he also…?-

-You ought to sleep, my love-. The Queen interrupted him with a funny reproachful tone, raising her brows. The prince inevitably chuckles, standing up from the bench. She had to look up; all her children are taller than her.

-I shall then-. Daeron agrees, caressing her fingers. Alicent smiles softly to him, blinkless, appreciating his manly features yet all his soft-hearted gestures-. Good night, mom-. He leans forward, placing a sweet kiss on one of her cheeks.

While her son kisses her cheek, and she kisses back one of his, a part of Alicent starts to regret having sent him to bed, and whishes to keep chatting and feeling this kind of tranquility. But she’s also right; her son must rest.

-Sleep well-, she whispered, caressing his fingers with love.

-My queen!-. A startled voice called her from one second to another, Cole’s.

Mother and son both turned their heads with easiness. Still holding hands, Alicent has calm in her eyes and Daeron a little smile on his lips.

-Ser Criston-, the Queen greets him with raised brows. The knight looks highly relieved, walking into the Godswood.

-Worry not, my mother was not alone here-. The prince talks with a funny smile, starting to walk towards the stiff knight. From behind, still standing in front of the bench, her mother chuckles. The sound surprised her Sworn Protector-. Please see that my mom reaches her bedchambers safely, Ser-. He asks.

-I shall see it done, my prince-. Cole immediately agreed. Daeron winks an amused eye.

-Ser Criston-, he farewelled him with a respectful nod, smiling.

-My prince…-, the knight mumbled, nodding back to him.

After a last smile, Daeron left the Godswood. After her child left, Queen Alicent blinked many a time, and the smile on her face got erased. Feeling again her usual uneasiness, she gulped and breathed heavily.

She turns around and approaches to her Sworn Protector, who quickly walked towards hers as well, armored as always.

-Has something happened, Ser Criston?-. She asks distressedly.

-Nothing, Your Grace-. He quickly answered, standing firmly while looking at her-. I had been looking for you for a while, my Queen. Couldn’t find you-. The knight explained his former anguish.

When hearing no bad new, and the man’s worriness, the Queen sighed and closed her eyes for a few seconds, relieved but still stressed.

-I was at the Sept praying, Ser Criston-. Alicent informed, scratching her forehead and making her bracelets to jingle.

Cole pressed his lips, staring at her with his brown big eyes, which blinked two times with growing unquietness. He takes a step closer, making her to open her eyes when he suddenly whispered.

-I beg your pardon for my boldness, Your Majesty, but you should not be wandering alone, neither outside the castle gates nor at night-. He mumbled with shame but insistence, looking over her shoulder while talking.

-The Sept is safe-, Alicent shakes her head briefly, making her long curly red mane to bounce with her while a troubled smile.  

-…Yet these are not safe times, Your Grace-. The brown-haired knight murmured, this time looking down at her, with loosen brows and blinkless eyes.

Dowager Queen Alicent’s eyes started to became wary. She presses her lips, recalling the events that took place in the Dragonpit, where The Queen Who Never Was and her dragon Meleys broke the pit’s floors, rumbled roars of war, and nearly slashed their fury above all Alicent’s family, if it hadn’t been until a sudden change of heart from the Princess Rhaenys. Only her sudden mercy saved their lives, after attempting against them.

That’s when Alicent gulps, truly understanding his meanings. Cole stares at her with the same worried shame.

-I am your Sworn Protector, my Queen-. He recalled, justifying the advice he just gave her.

-You’re right-. Her airy and weary voice agreed with him, nodding-…you are-. She expanded her lips into a close sad grin.

Softly, Cole nods, lightly lifting the sides of his lips. She did the same and, with this, Queen and Sworn Protector gifted each other tiny but sincere smiles under the white light of the moon.

The redhead woman sighed through her nose, crossing her hands over her belly, and taking a last look around.

-Walk with me, Ser Criston-. She asks, beginning to walk calmly. Doubtlessly, he followed her by her side, as always.

They got into the castle, now walking among the great pale red walls of The Red Keep, having the light of multiple torches along their way.

Queen Alicent sighs, staring front.

-I wanted Daeron to come to King’s Landing not only to have the many dragons as possible with us, but to have him with us too-. She comments, briefly raising her brows under the listen of her guard-…Wanted to be able to see with mine own eyes that he was safe-, she mumbles, looking around as they walk.

Criston looks sideways at her for a second, silently moved by how she talks about her younger son. Seconds the, she sighed, highly heavily.

-Although, now that he is indeed here, I must confess a certain…uneasiness, regarding his safeness…-Alicent mumbles. Cole furrows his brows, looking at her-. I now doubt whether if The Red Keep is the best place to accomplish so-. She admitted, glancing at her feet for a second-. Wonder if it’s safe for any of us-, she quickly murmured, breathing with heaviness.

-The Keep is strong, Your Grace-. Criston is quick to assure and slow to agree with her, in this case. The Queen gulps, gently side-eyeing him while they walk-. So are our men at arms, our dragons and our defenses-. He firmly listed, sure of his words. He stares at her, closing his lips for a quick second-. And so are you, my Queen-. The knight added with confidence.

Alicent stops walking, looking at the floor. Ser Criston stopped too, standing straight and firmly. The Queen gulped, turning her head to look at him. She took a glance around, seeing that they were alone, and afterwards approached to steps closer to him.

Cole almost felt his heart bursting out from his chest.

-We deserve naught of this paranoia, Ser Criston-. The Queen murmured, shaking her head-. The Iron Throne by rights must pass to His Grace’s eldest trueborn son-, she insisted with wide eyes, opening her hands and moving them tightly.  

-As it has always been, Your Grace-. He quickly nods.

-Not to mention that it was my late husband’s desires, his own words! And…and his brother, Rhaenyra’s husband, no other than Daemon…we all know that one’s nature-. Alicent afflicts her throat with sincere fright. His eyes got cold when thinking of The Rogue Prince.

-Make no mistake, should Rhaenyra ever sit the Iron Throne, it will be Lord Flea Bottom who rules us-. Ser Criston mumbled with sourness, clenching his armored hands to the sides of his robust body.

-A king consort as cruel and unforgiving as Maegor ever was-. Queen Alicent whispered with bitterness. Criston hums, remembering the stories Aemond has read him of Maegor The Cruel, his Black Brides and his reigning years of terror-…Under his judgement, my father’s head will be the first cut off, I do not doubt it, but your Queen, myself, will soon follow-. She spoke with a low voice, constantly curving her brows.

-Your Grace-, he makes a disgusted worried face, scowling at her.

-Nor will their spare my children-. Alicent declared, gulping so strongly, and blinking with so much fright when saying it. Even the harsh Criston shivered when thinking of that-. Aegon and his brothers are the king’s trueborn sons, with a better claim to the throne than her brood of…plain-featured boys-. Even after Viserys’ death, she can’t find herself capable of saying the word “bastard” out loud, yet no still-. Daemon will find some pretext to put them all to death. Even Helaena and her little ones…-, she whispered, having fright on her eyes. Cole clenched his jaw-. One of her boys put out my Aemond’s eye, never forget, though he was a boy-. She remembers, speaking in whispers.

-He was a boy, aye, but the boy is the father to the man, and bastards are monstrous by nature-. Ser Criston didn’t have the Queen’s sensibility towards the word, and spoke it plainly and without shame. The redhead parted her lips, not stopping him-. Should the princess reign, Your Grace, Jacaerys Velaryon would rule after her; Seven save this realm if we seat a bastard on the Iron Throne-. He spoke bitterly, in whispers.

-And Daera Targaryen by his side-, The Queen whispered too with sourness. Criston pressed his lips harshly when hearing that name-. We can only expect the worst from that girl too, for she’s no different than her tribe-, she denied while shaking her head from one side to another-. What she did to those man in The Vale…butchered them whole…-, Alicent narrows her eyes, recalling that great fuss from those years.

-As her father did to our city as well-. Cole remembered when The Prince of The City took his Gold Cloaks and dismembered nearly half of the capital’s smallfolk, punishing thieves, offenders, rapists and all kinds of evildoers.

Alicent strongly clenches her teeth, approaching one step closer, and whispering even lower.

-And she did it again…when she was here…-, she informed. Criston opens his furrowed eyes bigly, listening closely-. Ash and bone were taken to Flea Bottom by the breeze, from the coast where her dragon always nests-. Alicent whispers, narrowing her eyes-. The same day that she arrived to court with a brain-stained dress and tears of red on her hair-. She pointed out, recalling.

Criston immediately remembers that day, and how she walked into the hall of the Iron Throne with a cocky smile, all bathed in blood. Moments later, her father, The Rogue Prince, was decapitating Ser Vaemond Velaryon.

Alicent gulps, remembering the detailed report that the master of whisperers and Lord Confessor, Lord Larys “Clubfoot” Strong, brought to her about the mine of ashes on Kalistrox’s nest, and the smallfolk that attested to have heard voices of despair pleading for mercy in the air.

-…A bastard and a madwoman ruling the Seven Kingdoms…-, Ser Criston’s murmur came with sourness and angriness whilst he shook his head-. Unforgiving-, he denied.

-It is not just that it cannot be, but that it is not what should-. Queen Alicent raises her brows, insistent-. That chair belongs to my son-, she places a hand on her chest, over her heart-…It always has. Viserys told it to me…long ago too-. She confessed, blinking slowly.

When that came to be said, Ser Criston grew confused, not understanding the “long ago”, for the King died just recently. Alicent opens her mouth, but closes it quickly when seeing a brown-skinned servant walking nearby.

The Queen and her Protector remained silent. The servant, carrying a lemon cake on her hands, bowed her head and quickly walked away, soon turning on a corner and going elsewhere.

Alicent licks her lips, and breathes in deeply, looking at him again.

-Your Grace-, he whispers and nods, listening to her.

-When I was pregnant with Helaena…Viserys told me about a dream of his, a dream that- well, a dream that he had when Queen Aemma was still alive-. She whispered, surprising the knight, for he thought about how long ago that was-. He dreamed of a son birthed to him, being crowned!-. Alicent curved her brows, speaking with passion. Ser Criston parted his lips, shocked-. My husband expressed to me how much he desired that to be truth, how he saw in that dream The Conqueror’s crown placed on his son’s head and his sword on his hand-. The Queen recalls as if it has been yesterday, as it has been moments ago, and not more than twenty years-…He said he wanted it…-, she murmured slowly, blinkless, remembering that night.

Ser Criston, speechless, watches her every move and listens to her every word. This just reassures everything they’re fighting for; he thinks.

-He told me on Aegon’s second nameday-. Alicent confessed, closing her eyes for a few moments. Criston opened his widely, instantly remembering those times, that night, that hunt in the Kingswood where Rhaenyra made a fuss out of her emotions, as always, drowning herself in a cup of water.

Cole parts his lips, taking the information in. Moments then, he speaks.

-Prince Aemond once told me about the dreams some Targaryen have…-, he recalls with a low voice, and she starts to nod-. If I’m not mistaking…Daenys the Dreamer dreamed Old Valyria’s doom-. The knight says, thoughtful.

-Which happened, eventually, within the years; Daenys’ dream was true-. Alicent quickly nods, raising her brows. He gulps; he has always been kind of fascinates -to not say intimidated- by the Targaryens and their history-. Viserys’ is too-. She thinly whispers, from the bottom of her heart. Her knight looks at her with big secure eyes.

-It will be, my Queen-. He nods under the crystal hazel gaze of hers-. I shall be by your side and your children’s, until my last breath, Your Grace-. Fiercely, he promised, never blinking.

Alicent curves her brows, and gulps. She appreciates it heartily, closing her eyes while nodding. The Queen sighs with distress, caressing her forehead, realizing just now that she had been sweating.

-I thank you, Ser Criston…-. A soft whisper left her lips. He nods with determination.

Dowager Queen Alicent gulps, and then starts to form a smile on her closed lips. A minute then, she opens her eyes, and looks at him.

-…Helaena is with child-, she informed with an easy mumble. Ser Criston instantly froze; any firm look on him faded away and his eyes immediately shined with surprise and happiness, his mouth went open.

Such expression from her serious guard made the Queen laugh openly, which she rarely does.

-Maester Orwyle says her course is three moons already-. Alicent whispered with great emotion.

Ser Criston took the liberty to laugh, curving his brows, and clenching his teeth with excitement and pride.

And, as they speak of Helaena, let us turn to her…

Queen Helaena’s handmaiden, Claudia, delivered a small-sized lemon cake to the Queen’s chambers when she asked her for that favor. Claudia recalled it was not a favor but a duty for her to obey her commands; Helaena pointed out that not when it was this late and she should be asleep.

Nevertheless, the kind Claudia had not trouble in bringing the dessert to her rooms. After thanking her, and gifting her a slice of the cake, Helaena took the pastry into her bedchambers, having a shining smile on her lips, showing all her teeth.

The Queen sliced two slices of cake. Now we find her kneeled on the bed and, in front of her, are her two children. The twins both excitedly see their mother handing them a slice of lemon cake for them to enjoy; she was giggling as she handed it to them.

-Happy name day…-, Helaena whispered with a glim of love on her purple eyes.

Jaehaerys was the first one to cheer, shrieking and immediately starting to eat. Jaehaera soon followed, taking a big bite of cake with a smile on her face. Kneeled and slouched in front of them, Helaena scrunched her nose into a smile and clapped excited.

The mother sees how her twins enjoy their dessert. The hour has grown late, indeed, but it seems that neither of them are sleepy. In the solitude and darkness of the bedchambers, Queen Helaena is happy to share this moment with her children, who are already a year now. Time flies…

While they eat calmly, the Queen sweetly pushed the twin’s heads with softness and neared them to her to place tender kisses on both their cheeks. She laughed so happily when feeling the kids kissing her too, leaving crumbs of cake on her pale skin.

After kissing their mother, they went on with their dessert.

-Oh-, Helaena giggles with sweetness, passing a thumb in Jaehaera’s lips to clean some crumbs-. Messy girl-, she whispered along funny chuckles.

-Um-, Jaehaera emits amusing sounds while her mother cleans her-. Daera-, a sudden babble left her lips.

In that moment, the white-haired woman froze, slowly getting away her hand from her girl.

-Yes-, she silly whispers.

-Daera-. ‘Twas Jaehaerys now who spoke.

-UH- Yes!!-. Their mother laughs, covering her mouth that smiled greatly.

Helaena blinks in shock, not believing that they had just named Daera; they haven’t seen her for days already, and still said her name for the first time, perfectly and- and she’s not here to listen.

Helaena feels her lips starting to tremble, and bitter tears coming up to her sudden sad eyes while she still smiles. The Queen feels her children miss their aunt. And for the love of whoever god that exists, she does too. Daera hasn’t left her mind nor heart since the last time she saw her. She just never leaves.

But now they’re apart, far away and completely oblivious to when they shall see each other again. These quarrel between their families, these stupid acts…

Helaena sobs weakly, closing her sad eyes while her lips curved down. She weeps Daera’s name, yearning and longing for her. What’s happening scares her so much, and what’s to come scares her even deeper. It is not worry about herself she worries; is about the ones she loves…the ones that are far in more danger.

“Daera, Daera, Daera…”

It seems that Helaena got so excited when Claudia brought her the lemon cake, that when she closed the door and walked to her twins with pure happiness, forgot to lock.

The doors are opened without notice, making the Queen to quickly turn around her head, still slouched on the bed. Entering to her chambers she found her King husband, arriving with weary steps, baggy eyes, long thin scarring wounds in his arms, and a great bulk on his pants.  

Helaena’s face instantly became paler than usual, and her throat afflicted. Her husband grumbles, delicately closing the doors of the bedchamber. He did lock.

-Come-, his hoarse voice fills the room. Her superior lip tremble, looking at his red tired eyes-. Come-, he did a soft hand gesture to her.

-‘Tis the children’s birthday-. She is quick to say, weakly and fearful, blinkless.

-Helaena, I said come-. The King raises his brows. He limped for a second, too drunk to keep a straight posture-. Come, come, come-. He tsks his tongue, hating she was so still.

-Not in front of them please-. The Queen wept with a shaky voice.

Impatient and chaotic, Aegon II growled with despair and shot out walking quickly towards the bed of the room. Queen Helaena gasped and fastly came down of it from the other side. The children’s father grunts, clashing his hands on the mattress with distress.

After rapidly glancing at the children, the Queen turned around and ran further from there; thus, he followed her and got away from the kids.

-When I tell you to come…!-, Aegon left the rest of his words in the air, spitting on the floor as he ran foolishly to her, nearly stumping.

Helaena breathes fastly, coming out to the balcony with fast steps and scared eyes. She looks everywhere within a second, clearly knowing she got no way out. When she looked down for a millisecond, she saw the spikes below Maegor’s Holdfast.

-…YOU COME!!-. Aegon reached her angrily, surprising her from behind, and grabbing her wrists with great strength.

Queen Helaena gasped airless when he touched her, nearly breaking her neck when she looked up as if she was burned in a pyre. She looked up, and yet what she saw wasn’t the moon nor the stars.

She saw a thousand hanging men of blue, red and green flowing blood.

She saw her mother standing on the shore of a lake.

She saw a white curly mane burning.

Aegon made Helaena to end on the floor, forcing her to sit, only to then crawl over her, pressing his manhood against her shaky closed legs. His queen cries with fear, eyes-closed, shaking her head while mumbling nonsenses.

-They dance…-. Helaena cries with a broken voice, suddenly gasping for air and opening her eyes. She finds Aegon on top of her; she feels his kisses on her neck and his hand searching for her womanhood-. N-no! No! No!-. She shrieks as an agonizing hart, wanting to crawl away from his touch.

-Ay no no no, Helaena, you- Just stay quiet, bitch-. Aegon tsks his tongue with so much annoyance, babbling out his words, keeping her wrists prisoners of his hands.

Helaena’s red throat pains while she cries endlessly, strongly closing her eyes while her tits are being licked and her skirt lifted. The Queen lets out a scared sob, now moveless. Her husband sighed with the smile of a fool, feeling her warm body.

With a hand, Aegon gets his cock out and taps it against his wife’s thighs, making her to squeal with great horror. She grunted a cry and nearly turned around to craw far from him, but he quickly let go of his member and grabbed both her hands again.

-No!-, a broken sob leaves the Queen’s itchy throat.

-I came here to fuck-. Aegon smiles charmingly, looking down at her with his red eyes-. Not to be suffocated by all this fucking weeping!-, he erased his smile and whispered right to her face with anger.

Helaena sobs, pressing her trembling lips, looking at her greatest nightmare talking above of her; he’s a demon paralyzing her.

-Your running away’s from me are at an end-. Aegon growls maniacally, violently pushing one of her legs, opening them. Helaena cries endlessly, shaking her head from side to side-. I am King now-, he whispers bitterly.

He harshly gripped her chin, squeezing it, and from a moment to another penetrated her dry womanhood within a second, completely entering it. The Queen let out a cry so hurted, afflicting her throat and showing her teeth with pain.

On the other hand, The King afflicted his throat with pleasure, and showed his teeth when he smiled madly.

-Oh, yeah-. He moans, thrusting into her time after time.

Unable to cry out loud due to the hand squeezing her mouth and chin, The Queen can’t but cry silently, moveless and speechless, only hoping for it to be over already.

-You…-, King Aegon II’s red eyes of madness stared right at hers. She’s now realizing that there’s blood under his left eye-. You are to serve me, sister-. He declared with a cough and a smile.

Helaena sobs terribly, feeling all of his violent thrusts, his violent grip. The Queen, weakly, could glance at her children for one quick second. She cried harder when finding them watching at them with parted lips; they’re no longer eating cake.

Queen Helaena weeps with great terror, closing her eyes strongly.

A thousand hanging men of blue, red and green flowing blood.

Her mother standing on the shore of a lake.

A white curly mane burning.

-They danc-…!-. Helaena whines while her husband moans with a smile, trying his best to ignore her and just enjoy of her body-. They dance with crooked shoes!-, a broken sob left her throat.

-SHUT IT!-. Done with her nonsense, King Aegon punched his Queen right in her head.

And so Helaena was plunged into temporary darkness; she found calm.

■ ■ ■

Be welcomed to The Neck.

The narrow isthmus that connects the North to the rest of Westeros.

We’re now right beyond the border of the riverlands; we’re now officially in the North. Winds have change, of course; the wind is colder and harsher, dry but at the same time it makes one’s forehead sweat.

The swamplands of the Neck are by far the largest in all of Westeros, making it a rather unique biome. During day you can appreciate deep green trees, a lot of moss everywhere, and frogs jumping all around. However, ‘tis nighttime now, and the moonlight is not enough to light the lushness at its best.

Jace, Daera and their dragons had flown as discreetly as possible between the clouds of the night, for they didn’t want anyone to see them; they succeeded. The princes and their dragons took place as deeply in the swamp as possible, away enough from any camp and small civilization they checked from the skies. After wandering above the woods for some time, they decided upon a clean spot clean of mud or subterranean caves -at least cleaner the other spots-.

To their better accommodation, they opened in the ground as many of the bedsheets they could. They left two apart to cover themselves when they went to sleep, and with the remaining made an improvised mattress, not royally thick but neither too thin. In a free-of-sheet spot they left in the middle, they lighted a modest fire with a gentle sigh from Vermax.

With their “camp” now established, the princes are lying in their improvised mattress of fur. Both Daera and Jace have their heads resting in their luggage, using them as pillows. Both of them also have their respective dragon right by their side, keeping them warmer and safer. Basically, they’re surrounded by their dragons, who’re also lying in the ground.

Jacaerys is nearly falling asleep, tenderly watched by Vermax, who’s face is resting by his, breathing calmly too. On the other side, Daera has a golden tall wall by her. Kalistrox head rests over a fallen tree whilst his tail is nearly reaching the shore of a lake that is far from them. You cannot even imagine how uncomfortable it was for him to land in the swamp, watching to not mess with any tree. Matters to say that the one he’s resting his chin in is one of three he accidentally threw with one of his horns.

The Rogue Princess, playing with the handles of both her sword and her new dagger, which both remain strapped to the belt on her waist, watches her dragon with dearness. She raises a hand; her sweet fingers and palm caress Kalistrox’s limbs, lightly scratching them. The Golden Ray sighed loudly and purred with gentleness, blinking slowly. His princess smiled quietly.

The dragon’s sound made prince Jacaerys to open his sleepy eyes within a second, for they took him out of his nearing sleep. He breathes in with tiredness, humming lowly and scratching his eyes.

-Ouh shit-, the princess turns her head to look at him-. Sorry, did I wake you up?-. She whispers with same, scrunching her nose.

-No no, I was just resting my eyes-. The prince answers with a kind smile, and a hoarse sleepy voice. His sister snorts a little laugh, curving his brows-. Hmmm…-, he sighs again, crossing his arms behind his head-. They still ought to eat-, he remembers.

-Uhum-, his wife nods, eyeing Kalistrox while still caressing him. Jace lifts his gaze towards the Golden Dragon, feeling that it is a fortress that he’s looking at, for the beast is so tall and thick. He gulped, having the greatest of respects for his siter’s dragon.

-…He’s growing by the second, I think-. Prince Jacaerys murmured after some moments of quietness. Not looking at him, Daera lifted her lips into a small prideful smile.

-He is-, she agrees, whispering while scratching his limbs.

-Does he still fits in the Pit?-. He questions with curiosity, narrowing his eyes.

-I think he still does, at least he did the last time-. Daera shrugges, cocking her head-. Barely-, she quickly pointed, lifting a finger.

-‘Tis no wonder to me-. Jace mumbles, watching at his impeccable golden scales. He presses a smile, caressing Vermax’s horn with slowness.

Daera looks at Kalistrox distanced face. Her dragon eyed back at her, which made her to smile, kindly lifting her lips as a mother to her child would when seeing him laugh. The dragon purrs and closes his eyes, at ease.

The princess keeps staring at him, slowly becoming thoughtful. Jace looks at her again, finding her purple eyes looking at the fire interestedly; she looks beautiful.

-Do you remember that time when we were in the Dragonmont, walking over Vermithor’s nest?-. Daera asks from a moment to another, turning his head to look at him.

-Yes-, Jace quickly answers with an easy tone, raising his brows-. The other day when Daemon dared us to walk into the cave, and you almost did?-. He narrows his eyes with a playful smile.

-Haha-, his sister cackles two times. Jace chuckles, curving his brows-. That day-, she nods-. Well, did you know that…? Ah-. The princess accommodates herself better, turning her body to face him completely. Jacaerys did the same, interested, trying to not fix his eyes on the beautiful curve her waist has when lying sideways.

-Why?-. He questions, speaking curiously.

-I almost did because I wanted to see him, to see if Kalistrox could already be larger than him-. The princess confessed with honesty. That surprised his brother, whose eyes shined.

-Vermithor is to be said the second largest-. He murmurs, thinking of Vhagar, who is the first-. Do you think it possible?-. Jace asks with great interest.

-All the dragonkeepers from both Dragonstone and King’s Landing keep telling me these last moons is how much Kalistrox has been growing!-. The Rogue Princess speaks with a passionate hope, nodding quickly-. Vermithor barely flies out of his cave, what-…what if Kalistrox is bigger?-. She whispered, narrowing her eyes while picturing it.

-Can you imagine?-. Jacaerys smiles mesmerized, with narrow eyes too. His sister smiled, gladden with his same enthusiasm-. So, you wanted to know…-, he mumbles as he nods, recalling that day again.

-I still do-. The princess corrected him. Her brother raised his brows with acceptance, and she sucked her inferior lip with funniness.

Jacaerys gives her a cheerful smile, giggling lowly while looking at her. Daera chuckles lightly, still sucking her lips when she took a look around them.

A thousand cricket sing near them, as a hundred frogs do too. The sound of a stream soothes their ears when there is silence, which there was, until the white-haired spoke again.

-‘Tis weirdly ugly here, don’t you think?-. She comments, studying the surroundings. Prince Jacaerys did the same, only that with a growing smile on his humid lips-. Still, the northmen have never been known for a taste on eye-lusty lands-, she shrugges.

-What are they known for?-. The prince asks with an amused calmed tone. His wife makes a pout with her lips, thinking for two seconds.

-Baela once said they’re too pretty and too serious-. Daera shrugged, and he started to laugh-. I guess that sums them up pretty well-, she laughs as well.

-We shall see-. Jace raised his brows; she looked at him with cocky eyes, humming lowly when thinking about the lord they’ll be meeting soon-. And as an opposite to your statement, sister, I must admit I find certain beauty in this land-. He admitted with no shame, gaining a funny curious face from her-. Knowing something or someone’s story makes them more dazzling, I’d dare to say-. Jace nodded to a side.

-Ouh!-. Daera raises her brows-. Oh well, then…-. The princess drags herself a little closer and takes more comfort on her position, opening her eyes wide and smiling hugely when exaggerating curiosity-. I’m all ears-, she said with a funny voice.

Her brother-husband lifted his blushing cheeks and laughed. He took the liberty to also get closer, which his wife stared at with calculating smiling eyes, quietly.

-Well, there’s no much to it-. Jacaerys smiles modestly. She snorts and he grinned, rolling his eyes blank for a second-. In ancient times, the Neck was ruled by the Marsh King of the crannogmen-. And so Jace uses his “studying voice”, that he always employs whether when reading, discussing politics or -a new addition- treating with lords and ladies about alliances. Daera raises her brows, listening with a smile-. They submitted to House Stark when Rickard Stark, King in the North, defeated the Marsh King and took his daughter as wife-. He tells.

-Romantic-, she mumbles. Jacaerys licks his lips within a smile, looking down for a second.

-The crannogmen have maintained their ancient allegiance to House Stark, though…well, contact between them and the outside world has faded away to almost nothing, in these past years-. He mumbles while cocking his head, speaking softly-. Maester Gerardys told me-, he added-. But yet I know that the Starks wouldn’t even dream with disengage The Neck from them-, Jacaerys denies.

-Why not?-, she asked with a tender whisper, loving how he knows and speaks his histories by heart.

-The Neck presents a formidable tactical obstacle to anyone planning to invade the North!-. Jace responded with obviousness, raising his brown brows. She giggles and nods with great interest-. Did you know this place was instrumental in holding off the Andals during the coming of the Andals six thousand years ago?-. He asks with bemusement, shaking his head.

-Now I do-, the princess nodded, and he scoffed with marvel, now nodding.

-But, however, it is not effective against…ha, airborne dragons-. The prince said with undeniable pride, eyeing the two beast that sleep by their side.

-Such realization lead King Torrhen Stark, the last King in the North, to his decision to bend the knee to Aegon the Conqueror during the Conquest-. Princess Daera spoke with cocky smile and tone, raising her brows. Her husband licked his lips while smiling, nodding-. I used to read that story with father nearly every night, back in Pentos-. She remembers.

-Ah-, Jace smiles to her, slowly nodding.

-Hum-, Daera lets out a cute chuckle, turning her head to look at the white moon above-. The Conquest…-, she whispers-. Well, we already have something to chat about with Lord Cregan-. Daera cheers funnily.

-Aye-. The prince laughs, cheering too-. And a lot more of things-, he added.

-Yes…-. The princess breathes in deeply while looking around, not knowing that her husband is forever staring at her-. The North may not be the fastest ally, due to its location, but they surely will be the worthiest-. Daera points out with honesty, blinkless for a few second. She hears him humming, agreeing with her-…You’re right-. She mumbled.

-About what?-, he questions with a soft voice.

-Something is more dazzling when knowing its history-. Daera said into a playful sweet tone, looking at the trees and the stars above.

Blinkless, Jacaerys lifts the sides of his lips into a thoughtful expression. While feeling Vermax’s near body keeping him warm, the prince soon speaks his mind again.

-May I ask something, then, about our history?-. He questions with politeness, making her to look at him again. Her purple eyes smiled.

­-Targaryen or Velaryon? I know many-, she proposes-. Wanna hear ‘bout King Aenys I and how I would give my live to have met him?-. Her face lit up with pride.

-…Us-. The Velaryon prince softly corrected her, barely moving his lips when whispering. Daera blinks bigly, only one time, staring at him with inevitable surprise-. I mean about…us…-, he whispered. And soon, she began to nod.

-You may-, she agreed.

-On our wedding night...why didn't you consummate with me?-. Jacaerys didn’t wait to ponder his question; Daera felt time froze. He’s blushing fastly-…Why didn't we?-, he murmurs.

-I…-, Daera blinks very slowly, finding the right words while beginning to shrug her shoulders-. I think that…I think that I never had thought about it before, honestly-. She has-. Good question-. She points at him.

-Uhum-, Jacaerys nods, patiently but presently waiting for an answer.

Daera presses her lips and sighs through her nose while staring at him. The answer is far from simple and yet it consists of an only word: Aemond.

-I guess I was heart-broken-. The princess Daera answered with a low tone, shrugging-. I was…besotted with another, you see…-

She still is.

-You have always been my brother-. Daera murmurs, lightly furrowing her brows. Jace watches her with attentive eyes and listening ears-. I always loved you as so-. She points out with a soft tone, nodding-. So, to have been turned into your wife, from a day to another, well…-. The princess sighs, opening her eyes big when she sighed with pure honesty-…I didn’t desire you-. She declared.

-Now you do?-. Jace’s question was automatic, asked within a second. Daera parted her lips, surprised. It was just then that the prince realized his thoughts had slipped out of his lips. He gulps, feeling heat reaching his cheeks.

Before speaking, the prince had been thinking about what took place in the Eyrie, between them. He thought about everything: Daera grabbing his jacket’s neck and pulling him closer to her; she purring at him, pushing down his shoulder so his mouth met her womanhood; she moaned with a smile and, while caressing his brown mane between her legs, called him a good boy.

Remembering all that apparently made the prince ask his question without much anticipation. But, accepting that he already did it, he moved on, and spoke again.

-Do you feel that I am…enough?-. He questions, narrowing his brown eyes. Nerves glim in them.

In that moment, sincere curiosity glammed on Daera’s purple orbs. The princess breathed in, accommodating her shoulders on their mattress; she got closer to him, blinkless under his gaze, which follows her every move.

She didn’t answer; but made another question herself.

-From the first day we were wed, and even days before that, I noticed that…-Daera narrowed her eyes, speaking firmly and curiously-…that you did want to consummate our marriage…-, the princess murmured.

They both recall that night. They had to sleep together, as the Seven dictate it must be done on a wedding night. They shared a bed, same blanket and same big pillow. She was drinking wine, jesting, joking, giggling all around; she was content…but she never touched him. And him…well, it seemed as Jace was starving even for a kiss on his cheek, or a caress on his hair, even a blow from her breath to his lips.

-You wanted to do it-. Daera points within a mumble, blinking slowly. She sees how his cheeks has gotten redder than before; he is not blinking, looking at her while nodding lightly-. And yet, you have always seen me only as your sister-. She says, recalling the feelings he used to have for Baela, their sister, not her. They’re faded now, since a long ago, but the question still rises-…Why was it so easy for you?-. The princess asked, confused.

Jacaerys breathed in through his nose, staring at her. The reflection of the fire flames dances in her confused face, in her curious violet eyes. Her long curly mane wiggles a little too, with the wind and Vermax’s breathing. After some seconds, the prince let a sigh out.

-Because I knew who I was getting wedded to-. The Heir to the Iron Throne answered with firmness, closing his eyes. In that moment, Daera grew even more confused, tilting her head to a side-. You are one of the most beautiful maidens of the realm, if not the most. Each lord -either paramount or vassal-, each steward, servant and knight speak of your beauty everywhere I go, anywhere I step into. There have been tourneys on your honor, men fighting for your favor and bless! Quarreling to just have you to look at them!-. Jacaerys speaks with admiration, narrowing his eyes.

Daera, bemused, listens with parted lips, which started to smile with surprise and flattery while looking at him. The princess scoffs while he talks, seeing the shine on his eyes, listening to the passion in his voice.

-I took as my wife the most precious and desired woman in the Seven Kingdoms-. Jace declared, straightening his shoulders whilst he talks, slowly taking seat in the mattress. She follows him with her eyes, having her head resting on one of her hands. He looked down at her, and stuttered, blinkless. Then he sighed; his shoulders fell-… I wanted to be up to the gift of owning that-. He confessed, simple but sincere, shrugging.

Warmly, Daera looks at him, curving her brows a little. That was shortly, for then she snorted with amusement.

-Oh-, she closed her eyes and widened a sarcastic smile on her lips-. So I am a responsibility for you, huh?-. Daera questioned with fun, laughing burlesque. Jace quickly furrows his brows, shaking his head with confusion-. Tell me, brother, is everything a duty for you?-. She tauntly asks, scrunching her nose.

-You are not following-. He fastly denied, firmly. Funnily, she pressed her smiling lips and nodded with gentleness, allowing him to speak again, thinking that she’d hear more of the same-. I see you as no trophy, I swear this to you-. The prince declared with a stiff lip, never stuttering nor blinking. His sister looks at him with eyes that slowly started to lose all glim of diversion-. I see you for what you are: someone there are no two of. I wanted to be enough for you-. Jace narrowed his eyes, slouching; his face got a little closer to hers, who’s staring at him with parted lips, shocked-…I still want to-. He confessed, true and honest.

The princess stares at him with reading eyes, analyzing every expression he makes. All are sincere and filled of dearness. He is speaking his truth, perhaps for the first time since the day they were wed.

-It’s not that is my responsibility to make you happy; I know you can very well achieve it on your own account-. Jace laughed a little, raising his brows. Shocked, Daera chuckles lightly too, curving her frown while looking at him at all moments. His brown eyes are dilatated-. It’s just that…you deserve that effort from me, it is the least- the least you deserve-. Jacaerys whispers as he touches his chest with his own warm hands, tapping his ten fingers over his heart, which is beating so fastly-. And as your husband -call it “duty”, if you so like- I want to give it to you; I want to make you happy-. The prince said with pure genuineness and openness.

Bemused, Daera lift she lifts the corner of her lips, curving her brows as well while looking at him with an inevitable tenderness, and surprise. “How not to feel this moved, this warmed?” She’s speechless, for he had never been so honest before, not like this. Not this…beautifully, in search of nothing more than acceptance from her.

Taking advantage of the tremendous loneliness of the swamp, the great distance from their home, and that he has already said too much, he sent all nerves to the Seven Hells…and leaned closer to his sacred wife.

-I lust for you, Daera…-. Jacaerys confessed with the sweetest of whispers, and the warmest of eyes. Daera gasped briefly, opening her lips, looking at him with pureness, and a light smile that began to thrive on her lips. He looks at them, breathing deeply-. I love you-, he murmured, a little weak now.

It is now that everything makes sense, that everything clicked in the princess’ mind. Jacaerys, her “fake” husband, had been slowly and silently falling in love with her…and it is just now that he’s having the guts to confess it, when they are at the other side of the world, in a cold swamp with their dragons.

-Oh…-, Daera sighed, raising a hand and placing it on his neck, caressing his brown hair with her tender fingers. He breathes deeply, always staring at her-. I love you too, Jace-. She warmly said, dragging her fingers to a side of his face to caress his burning cheek. He lightly raised his brows, lost on her purple loving eyes-…I always have…-, the princess whispered, honest.

Jace scoffed, with a happiness and nerves that he couldn’t hide very well. He bit the inner of his cheeks, sucked his inferior lips, and looked down whilst trying to hide a smile, chewing it. That expression remembered her of Rhaenyra. Daera leaned her head to a side and looked at him with a dear grin, feeling how warm his cheeks are.

-Oh, for the gods’ sake…-. Daera whispers, narrowing her eyes. She is so moved; she is so happy he has told her this. Why? Why is she? How does she exactly feel about this? Why doesn’t it bother her, as their whole marriage once did?

-I know that we married off for duty, but…-. Jace speaks, looking up again. He takes both her hands, resting his chin in them. Daera snorts a cute laugh, wrinkling the sides of her eyes-. But…!-, he laughs too, caressing her fingers-…I have learned so much from you, Daera; you have taught me so much-. He declares, shaking his head and narrowing his eyes-. I only ever want your best-. Jace whispers with softness.

-And I yours, my prince…-. Daera murmured with the same tenderness as him, feeling the soft caresses on her fingers.

Jace smiled to her, not showing his teeth. Moments then, that smile slowly started to fade away, which confused her.

-What is it?-. She whispers, holding his hands tighter. He smiles lightly again, looking up at her, then gulping, then fading his smile again.

-I also wanted to ask about…about Aemond-. Jace spoke, inevitably uncomfortable, pressing his lips.

When Daera heard his name, her body froze. She didn’t see it -thank the gods she didn’t- but when Aemond was named, her eyes flickered, and afterwards they blinked with what appeared to be shame, and embarrassment. Jace did notice it, gulping.

-Can I ask?-. With honesty, the prince asked for permission, patiently. His wife looked down with sad eyes, not wanting him to see the glum in her pupils, but he is. After some silent seconds, she starts to nod, allowing him to continue.

This is the first time they have said The One-Eyed Prince’s name between them, since they got married. He had faded to Daera’s past, until now.

-It has been a year already, I think, or nearly a year-. Jacaerys mumbles, starting to caress her fingers again. She gulps strongly, thinking of Aemond and all the- the wrongs he has done to her-. Do you…do you think this was the right decision?-. And so, Jace asked with no restriction. Her lips almost trembled in that moment, looking at him with them pressed-. Us?-, he whispered.

Slowly, Daera takes her hands away from his, taking seat in front of him while crossing her arms on her chest. The prince gulps, patient. Daera looks down, feeling a great lump on her throat, and a thousand knives on her heart.

She imagines a reality where she had never really been with Aemond; one where she would have married Jace, with heart and desire, not convenience and politics. A reality where he had never followed her into Flea Bottom, nor to that alley either. A reality where she had never seduced him first, nor defended his violence and cruelty. A reality where she…had never lied to her family and dear ones.

If that were her reality, she would have saved herself from so much pain, dilemmas, arguments and fights with her family. She would have saved herself from so many tragedies. As soon as she heard of the usurpation of the Iron Throne, she and her dragon would have flown to King's Landing and would have burned them all.

When hearing Jace’s question, Daera’s head thought by its own, not sugar-coating anything. It thought this: Everything would be easier if she wasn’t in love with prince Aemond Targaryen.

To think that hurted her so much, her chest ached. Daera gulps and shakes her head from side to side, whilst her husband waits for an answer.

She smiles tinyly, looking at him.

-Had I continued walking down with Aemond…-, her eyes flickered for a second-…I’d be lost…-, she confessed within a whisper.

What hurted the most was that it is no lie, that it is no “if”. Daera Targaryen has been lost since she fell in love with Aemond Targaryen. How expensive that’s going to cost her.

-You…-, Daera takes Jace’s hands again, firmer than ever. Blinkless, he looks at her with determination and love. She gulps, wanting to cry, but not succumbing herself to it-. You are my right decision, Jace-. The princess declared with a stiff voice, looking into his brown eyes.

-Oh!-. In that moment, the prince breathed out with a huge smile, and a relieved expression. She gulps again and starts to smile as well, pampering his fingers with soft caresses-. I- I am glad to hear that-. He stutters. Daera softens her eyes, sighing while looking at him-. I was always afraid to ask; I was afraid you…you resented me-. He admitted, pressing his lips with embarrassment.

-What?-, she parts her lips, opening her eyes big.

-Hence why you- why you never slept with me-. Jacaerys stutters and shrugges, being honest with her.

-That’s not true-. Daera is quick to deny, shaking her head. She holds his hands stronger, nearing them to her chest. The brown-haired prince looks at her with heart-eyes, listening closely-. I would never, never resent you on Aemond’s behalf-. She promised with firmness-. I am not cruel…or stupid enough to do that-. Daera rolled her eyes.

Jacaerys showed his teeth, laughing tenderly. Unable to don’t too, Daera sighed and chuckled with him, closing her eyes. As soon as she did it, she saw Aemond’s face, so quickly opened them again, gulping.

Daera looks down, pressing her lips with a thoughtful gaze, under Jace’s loving one. Moments then, she breathed in and started to stand up. He quickly did so too, looking around and then at her again.

-They haven’t dined yet-. The princess spoke with a soft tone, staring at her golden awaked dragon. Jace quickly eyes Vermax, who purred, looking back at him.

-You’re right-. The prince nods, now tending all his attention to his dragon.

Daera blinks slowly, caressing Kalistrox while breathing in. She got lost on her mind, until he called her.

-Daera-, Jace named. When she turned around, got surprised when seeing him already on his saddle, ready to take flight-. Join me…-, his voice is tender and his smile a happy one, cocking his head towards the sky.

She smiles softly, looking at his brown eyes.

-I shall join you, in a minute-. The princess said-. You go ahead. I will put off the fire first-. She says, pointing at the flames with her purple eyes.

Narrowing his eyes with that smile still on his lips, Jacaerys nodded towards her, smitten.

-Sōves, Vermax-. The prince commanded him to fly with a soft mumble, patting his neck.

Within the seconds, the green dragon of yellow eyes took off from the woods, easily dodging the trees on his way, for he has the perfect size for it. Soon enough, the prince and his dragon were in the sky, looking for a proper supper for the majestic beast.

When she was left alone with her dragon, the princess Daera blinks in silence. Her eyes got lost in the humid mud, her hands on her abdomen.

Looking at the ground, she thinks of Aemond.

It feels the last time she saw him was ages ago, and it was far from a pleasing encounter. “Where do we stand now?”, she asks herself, worried and inevitably angry. He has been doing so bad, acting accord his family’s whishes and not taking hers in mind. What she said to Rhaenys before parting off Dragonstone is true; she wants to punish Aemond for his sick doings, for placing a rapist on the throne. She will, but…when? When are they to see each other again? Where, how? Is she to fly to Lovers Island and expect for him to go too? She cannot. What would they say to each other? Would he kiss her? Would he ask for forgiveness as soon as he sees her purple eyes again? Those that have always give him love and understanding. How could he have betrayed them? When will he be sorry for it? Because he will. She’s sure.

Caressing her belly, she thinks of Alyssa.

How is it that, in this world, things go on so quickly? One day she used to not see herself as a mother, then she wanted nothing but a child product of her love with her husband, then they agreed on it, the next day her husband made her to drink away that child. “How could it be?”. Daera dreamed, and lost her dream so fastly in the bat of a lash, the blink of an eye, the breaking of a heart. A babe was supposed to thrive on her royal belly, but it didn’t; perhaps the gods wanted so. “Fuck you gods then, and give me my child”, the princess cursed in her mind. Alyssa was conceived in Lovers’ Island. And the very next day, in that very same place, she was taken away.

Daera curves her brows, pressing her lips while she thinks in all of that. Feeling her deep sadness, and turning his head to look at her glum eyes, Kalistrox purred with sweetness, looking to comfort her.

-Please, don’t…-. His rider sighed with a tired voice when she heard him. The Golden Ray still purrs, lightly, as down as her. Daera shakes her head, squeezing her belly with her fingers-. You’ll make me cry, dearest…-, she said with unquietness, sniffing her nose, and forcing herself to draw her hands away from her belly-. I will not-, she declared.

He blinked slowly, looking at her. Daera straightens her shoulders, and blinks a few times; then she glanced at him.

-Jikãgon jurnegon syt issa (Go for your supper)-. The princess ordered raising her brows. Kalistrox growls lowly, eyeing the sky for a second and then at her-. Go!-, Daera pressed her lips when seeing him slowly standing up from the muddy ground. The golden dragon carefully lifts his wings, shaking his neck with a little doubt on his gaze-. You’re hungry-, she whispered.

After another low growl, Kalistrox opened his wings as big as possible, crawling a little away from there. Daera walks backwards with no hurry, stepping away from his thick tail. She crosses her hand over her belly, seeing him shaking his neck again with unquietness while looking at the multiple trees.

Moments then, The Golden Ray took off with one big flap from his wings, which lifted him up in the air within a second. His paw kicked the tall pines when flying across them. They wiggled like crazy. Their wood and sticks cracked, making the princess to look up with carefulness, watching that nothing fell on her.

Having learned from his difficult landing from before, Kalistrox took off with skilled maneuvers. He zig-zagged, as he has watched Caraxes do; no tree fell, and he headed towards the grey clouds while roaring out with sharpness and freedom, quickly getting away from the humidity. Inevitably, his rider looked up at him while siding a small smile.

-Smart boy-, she whispered to him along a little chuckle.

Daera is now by herself in this ugly, lush and lonely swamp. The princess looks down at the fire that still burns in the middle of the furs. While looking at it, the princess’ ears catch the sound of a nearby stream.

She made a pout with her lips, grabbed an empty jar they had use for their supper, and followed that sound with easy-going steps.

While walking, the princess thinks of how beautiful Lovers Island is. When the sun is not blessing it, a clear moon is. The sand is always white and warm, the waters fresh and sound. A kind breeze always blows softly towards their handmade hut, and in there their home is always waiting for them.

Daera tried to picture all that, but here, in this swamp. Many would think that it wouldn’t be the same at all, but the princess thinks it would be the very same. Lovers Island is beautiful, but its meaning does not fall on its beaches, sun and sand; but in the lovers that live there. This could very well be Lovers Swamp with no problem.

After chasing away a couple of curious frogs with her hands, Daera soon arrived at the place where that sound she followed came from. She arrives to a small river almost entirely covered by fog. In here are less crickets than in the other place, so it is quieter.

The princess keeps walking, grabbing the jar in one hand, and her own fingers in the other. She plans to take some water from the river, to go and kill off the fire, and then join Vermax and Jace in the skies. A flight would make her good right now, to be honest; she has a lot of stress to free.

But, postponing her task for a while, Daera stopped walking at the very shore of the river, and remained moveless. A cold breeze blows her dress and her curly mane, making it to bounce on her back. Her arms are loose to the sides of her body, applying no force. The fog in front of her gets sad when seeing her sad face.

Lighted by the cold white of the moon, Daera’s sleepless purple eyes stare at the nothingness while she gulps and presses her dry lips. Her gaze is lost, thoughtful, tired, sad and in the water.

They joy of having won three houses to their side in the half of a day remains in her with honesty; she’d never forget Jacaerys’ hopeful eyes every time that a lord or lady said yes to them. However, great part of her knows that they shouldn’t be even doing this. They are taking the bother to go house by house, knocking their doors and pleading for their support. “Who are they?” “Who are we?”.

Daera thinks how she and her husband have been going around the realm, like fucking beggars, having to give things in exchange to convince the Houses to fight and advocate by their side. It is ridiculous, to say the least! It its demeaning and degrading to go as so…

As future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Daera understand that exchanges, accords and betrothals are of great essence for the Iron Throne to keep good relations between the crown and its subjects. But we’re talking about war here, for the fuck’s sakes, not some feast or tourney, or wedding. Everyone should fight for the Blacks by law.

But no, here they are. They’ve licked Lady Jeyne Arryn’s cunt, given away Joffrey’s hand in marriage. The Houses are taking them as fools, it seems. And as the day goes by, Daera has been growing bitter and more bitter about it, not liking it one bit.

We are Targaryens.

The sound of a branch being stepped on brings the princess out of her thoughts. She blinks, still. Within seconds, two more branches crack, and then she detects the sound of footsteps in the mud.

After blinking again, Daera starts to slowly turn around. She turns her head with patience and a quiet expression, looking at what is behind her. And oh, gods be dammed, look at what we have here.

A group of five people has come out from the woods, arriving to the river with silent steps. There are three man and two women. They are all of small sizes; not dwarfs, but under the regular height of Westerosi people. They’re wearing clothes of colors similar to the swamp’s, fashion-less and ugly.

Perhaps that’s why they’re staring at her fancy expensive clothes and boots with lust.

Daera’s expression remains unfaced. She’s no longer sad, but calmed. She completely turns around, standing by the river’s shore, under the eyes of these ones.

-Good night-, she greeted with a polite tone.

-Good night-. One of the men greeted her, nodding towards her. We don’t know their names; we’ll call this one: Fuck.

-Beware, princess, there are many lion-lizards around these places-. Another of the men spoke, looking at her from feet to toe. He’ll be: Cunt.

Daera blinked and tilted her head lightly, instantly catching that they know she’s the princess. Great, no need to introduce herself then.

-Lion lizards?-. She gives them a confused smile, shaking her head.

-Dreadful beasts-. The third man raised his brows. This is: Dumb.

-Ah no, thankfully I haven’t seen none-. She kindly said-. But thanks for the warning-, her head tilts to a side whilst her hands meet on her belly.

Still, they keep getting closer, slowly but noticeable. Their steps are paused and marked, something she glanced at with tranquil eyes. Meanwhile, what they glance at is to the clothes and jewelry of the princess; her fine rings and leather dress must cost a fortune, not to speak about her white scalp.

Daera parted her lips when she sighed and scratched her forehead.

-Right…-, she mumbles with tiredness, nodding.

-Take off her clothes first, then do whatever you please-. One of the women spoke for the first time. How should be call her?

-She’s more worthy alive than dead, bitch-. Cunt spat to her. We’ll call her Bitch.

-Then don’t make her die, brute!-. The other woman spat back to him with an obvious tone, not even looking at him. This will be Dead.

Daera watches them all, person by person, looking at their steps and the manners of their hands. They’re armed, each of them with a rusty axe. She breathes in, looking at their faces again.

-Well, you’ve quickly made your intentions clear-. She sighed, making them to look at her with full amusement. A girl standing alone in a river, poor she thing-. Are crannogmen this direct then?-, Daera scrunches her nose, disappointed. Fuck and Dumb chuckled lowly, while Bitch twisted her lips with tediousness-. I like my men to entertain me-, she confessed whilst, under the enough darkness of the swamp, one of her hands so very slowly grabbed the handle of the dagger on her belt.

-I shall entertain you, princess-. Cunt growled with a smile. And it was here that he and Dead started to fastly walk towards her within a second, menacing. The others followed.

And within another second, Princess Daera got her dagger out of her belt, throwing it in the air. Its edge cut the wind sharply until it reached the middle of Dead’s eyes. The dagger crossed her skull and sliced her brains. The last thing she did was gasp, and then she fell hard on the floor, dead.

-Kalistrox, don’t come-. Daera whispered to the air, with a strand of white hair in the middle of her sight.

The other four cared naught about the fallen woman; they started running towards the princess. The closest was Cunt, who smiles while running.

Daera fastly leans to a side and scratches the river’s shore. Afterwards, she threw a handful of mud towards Cunt, who grunted when the heavy wet dirt ended up on his eyes and nose, making him to walk backwards.

-WHORE!-, a muted groan escaped his throat whilst he tried to wipe it all off his eyes.

-CUNT!-. Daera groaned as well, throwing more mud against Bitch and Dumb, but they dodged it and kept running to her with mad eyes. The princess laughs growly, unsheathing her sword.

-Don’t kill her!-. Bitch yelled with rage, and she ran slower when she saw the sword, getting a little scared. Fuck copied her.

Thus, Dumb kept running and became the closest to the princess, who took him off guard when making a savage expression with her face. The man, who cannot be older than twenty, furrowed his brows and, when he least expected, let out a loud and agonizing scream when a hand was cut from his body by her sword.

-AHHHH!!-, Dumb grabs his hand-less arm, looking at it with terror.

Daera laughs with great confidence, and that was her mistake, for the raged Dumb yelled with madness and grabbed her hair, pushing her with his remaining hand. The princess screamed, angry, and then she fell into the river’s deep shore, getting all wet by water and heavy mud. Her hand never left her sword’s handle.

-NO!-, Daera gasps in search of air, quickly sticking her head out the water.

Cunt had run to another part of the river as well, washing off the mud on his eyes while grunting with angriness. All the times that he found the strength to open his red and swollen eyes for a second, he glanced at the white-haired princess. He started to wash his face faster when seeing her falling into the river.

-GRAB HER HANDS, GRAB HER HANDS!-. Fuck yells quickly as he and Bitch ran to reach the princess.

-AHH!-. Remaining in the shore, Dumb breathes fastly while looking at his gone hand laying in the mud. He whines, staring at his bleeding wrist-. FUCKING BRING HER!-, he screamed to the river.

Daera breathed fastly, with her eyes blurry due to the water in them, but she saw something: those two small-sized beasts running towards her with more than evil intentions. She spat the water off her mouth, and took a deep breath.

Bitch runs faster when the princess’ head got dipped into the river from a moment to another. Fuck did so as well, yelling with rage when losing her out of sight.

-Fucking bitch! Where are you?!-. Bitch yells with alert, pushing all the water around her, wanting to hit the princess’ head by doing so, but she was far from her.

-Where are you?! WHORE!-. Fuck screams tauntly, licking his lips and smiling while from his mouth drops of saliva fall-. Fucking coward-, he mumbled with amusement.

-FIND HER!-, a scream was heard from Cunt, who’s walking to the shore near where they are. He pushed Dumb, who still cries for his hand.

Even though the screams continued, none was as loud as Fuck’s, who opened his mouth into a broken shriek when a sword suddenly cut his inner thighs and inner knees from a second to another, under the water.

-FU- FUUUCK! FUCK!!-. He yelled with extreme pain. Bitch quickly runs faster towards there, opening her eyes big when seeing the water turning red-. YOU- YOU…!-, he looks at the water around, harshly getting both his hands into it-. YOU FUCKING CUNT!-, he pulls something out.

Daera let out a pained screamed with her mouth open when Fuck suddenly pulled her out of the water, grabbing her by her hair. All her face and mane drips water while she roars with rage, looking at him, who roars back at her.

-BEAST!-, Fuck grabbed her hair into a fist, and his other hand slapped her strongly on one cheek.

-FUCK!!-, Daera roars. She holds her sword stronger, and head it right to his skull.

But Bitch appeared out of nowhere, arriving behind of her and taking both her hands prisoners into hers. Daera immediately screamed with rage, struggling against her grasp. Fuck grasped her legs the same way, trapping them, and that’s how the both of them began to carry her out the river.

-NO! NOOO! YOU WHORES, CUNTS, LET ME GO!-. The princess shrieks endlessly while dragged in the water-. YOU WEAK BEASTS, LET ME GO!-. Her yells never end.

-Bring her!-. Cunt waits for her in the shore with an ugly smile on his yellow teeth. Steps from him, Dumb is dizzy while looking at his bloody wrist.

-CUNTS!-, Daera grunts, not letting the river to take her sword away. She’s grabbing it tightly, while Bitch is incapable of taking it from her, for both her hands are busied in grasping hers to not let her go.

The princess was delivered to the shore, being harshly placed there. Within a second, Cunt grumbled and headed to her, going for the legs that Fuck fights against with a scrunched angry face.

While placing her in the ground, Bitch leaned forward in a way that made Daera’s eyes shine when she realized what she could do. Not losing time at all, the princess extended her neck up, opened her mouth, and then closed it along a wild roar. Daera bit the woman’s left breast, and squeezed it violently between her teeth.

Bitch let out a great scream, letting go her hands. Out of instinct she stepped away. At the same time, the princess wiggled her head ferociously from side to side; Bitch’s left nipple was torn from her breast by Daera’s harsh teeth, and then was spitted right into her face by the princess

The woman took six long steps back when she opened her mouth towards the sky to scream and cry with a pain none can even imagine. She grabs her bleeding teat, looking at it with extreme terror.

Oblivious to that, Fuck fights against the princess’s closed legs. She looks down there with rage, and opened her eyes big when seeing Cunt grabbing her knees with his big hands, and smiling up at her.

-No-, Daera’s voice trembles, and she realizes her hands are now free-. NO NO, STEP AWAY YOU CUNTS!-. She screams, about to slice them both in a half with her sword.

But a feet stepped on her armed hand, and a hand grabbed her other one. When she looks up, breathing fastly, she found Dumb’s handless wrist bleeding over her face. Daera immediately yells with pure rage, scrunching her nose and struggling even fiercer than before.

-Away!!-, Cunt pushed Fuck, taking his place in front of her. He squeezed her knees, and pulled them apart violently.

-FUCK!!!-, Daera struggled against him with rage, tears coming up to her eyes. Cunt grumbles when finding out the princess was wearing pants below.

-Queer bitch-, the man grunted, quickly pulling her dress’s skirt up, and beginning to break her pants with his bare hands.

Breathing fastly, Daera studies her surroundings within three second: Bitch whines for her lost nipple, rocking her breasts with agonizing pain. Cunt fights to take off her clothes, Fuck lines behind him with an excited evil smile, taking turn to rape her as well. Dumb steps on the hand she grabs her sword with, and grabs her other one while looking down at her. And, just a few steps from them, Dead lies dead with open eyes, with the dagger still on her forehead.

Daera blinks when feeling the drops of blood falling on her face from up. She looks up, and sees the Hand-less Dumb leaning towards her with a crazy smile while trapping her hands. Blinkless, he’s heading to kiss her lips.

And with these very lips of her, she spat harshly against his face from a second to another. The saliva that violently entered one of his eyes made Dumb to scream and to take a step away. He kept grabbing one of her hands, but: stopped stepping on the other.

Hissing, Daera dropped her sword, pulled the dagger out of Dead’s head, cut off Dumb’s remaining hand, and cut away the part of her dress Cunt was pulling away.

When the dress was cut and the pression of his pulling abruptly ended, Cunt gasped and staggered with no time to react. When her legs were free at last, the princess roared and kicked him with all of her strength and will.

Cunt fell right over Fuck, who yelled with pain when his bleeding thighs met the mud.

Daera heads the dagger to Dumb’s legs, and cut both his knees profoundly within a second, making a perfect line. The Handless man screamed agonizing-like, falling on his knees when being servant of the pain.

Before his knees ended right on her eyes, princess Daera fastly makes herself to a side, rolling in the mud. While doing so, she grabbed back her sword, never letting it go again. Dumb sobs with rage, going for her.

With a smooth rolling, Daera stood up from the mud within seconds and, as soon as she did so, she clashed her sword against Bitch, not even letting her to take a last breath. Bitch gasped before being sliced in a literal half by the princess’ sword. Her upper body fell hard on the ground, whilst her legs kept standing for a few more second.

After cutting Bitch in a half, Daera made a perfect circle on her feet and with her sword. Smoothly turning around, she slashed Dumb’s belly. Her angry expression faded away as soon as he died, when all of his bowels fell from his open abdomen. A stinking shit fell with them too; the princess stepped on it, and then cleaned her boots with Dumb’s face.

With dagger and sword now at hand, The Rogue Princess bloody face turns to look at the remaining two. The two that were planning to rape her.

Her breathing blows white strands of her disheveled hair. Blinkless and mouth-parted, she starts walking towards them, licking the blood on her lips.

When Cunt fell over him, Fuck couldn’t walk again. Pressed by the other man’s heaviness, he fell right on a big stone that crashed so hard against his lower back that it appears to have disconnected it from his legs, which are still cut and bleeding while he now drags himself away as quick as possible. Fuck whines and grunts as his elbows are the only thing helping him to move in the mud.

Meanwhile, Cunt is- well, he is running to her.

Daera turns around; her back collapses with his chest. He grunts and, before he could do anything with his rusty axe, the princess surprised him with a stab on his ribs. He gasps, opening his eyes big. Blinking two times while looking at the woods, Daera stabbed him two more times, in different places.

-Fucking…!-, airless, he gasped.

Letting out a sour chuckle, Daera suddenly starts to walk backwards with fastness. Cunt looks around with terror; the loss of blood tricked him bad, and he imagined the trees laughing and pointing at him whilst the princess pushes him with her own little body.

From a moment to another, Cunt felt he flew, and he did. For a second. He fell harshly on the river’s shore, dyeing the water with red. What’s weirdest is that the princess allowed herself to fall with him, only to then rise on her knees and stare down at him with hell-like eyes and evil twisted lips.

She grips her dagger tightly, closing her fist on it.

-I’m a Targaryen-, her honeyed though growly voice spoke while her hand slipped down his pants.  

Her dagger swayed in the air, and then cut off Cunt’s hard erection. When his member was sliced off his body, the bleeding man screamed with pure pain, never taking his eyes off her. He saw her painted all in red, grabbing his bland chopped cock with a rogue glim on her eyes, and smiling to him within a blink.

-I’ll be taken as no fool-. The princess mumbled with rage, starting to fill his mouth of the mud around, filling even her own nails with it.

Cunt coughs violently as his throat and mouth gets clogged by dirt and water with no end. His eyes tears while he yells as louds as he can, desperately searching for air. Daera grunts, grabbing his head with a hand.

-Stay fucking quiet!!-, she grunted, dipping his face into the river.

Cunt struggles and kicks with despair, airless, swallowing both mud and water endlessly, nearly starting to cry blood. Whilst he grunts and tussle, the princess turns around her head. She sees the other one, Fuck, still crawling away. He’s already far, but she sees him. She hears him crying with horror, crawling away like a coward from his sliced thieves friends.

Daera presses her lips, pulling Cunt’s face out of the water. And before he could give his last breath for himself, the princess drew her dagger on his throat, and cut it with a clean move.

Cunt’s mouth dripped vomit, blood, mud and water. His eyes went blank, and his face dipped again in the water when the princess stood up and walked away from him, leaving his unliving body behind.

When Fuck hears steps near him, he turns around his head. Now, when he saw The Rogue Princess approaching to him with armed hands and raged mad eyes, he cried for his mother, and started to crawl and drag himself faster than ever, to no purpose.

Fuck tried to stood up while breathing fastly. Her knees trembled, but he was able to stand weakly. But before he could even think of running, a boo kicked his lower back violently and made him to fall back in the mud. He yelled loudly, with pain and terror. He turns around his head, finding the ugliest and most disturbing image of his life.

The white-haired brown-skinned princess, slouched to look directly at him, is bathed in blood and mud. Her chin, lashes and nose are dripping a red liquid that does not belong to her. Her teeth are stained on red too, as well as her jewelry and her chopped wrinkled dress. What disturbed him the most: the madness and pleasure that shines on the purple of her eyes.

The Rogue Princess grabbed his hair and pulled his head up with harshness. He gasps with pain, scrunching his lips while crying, feeling her breathing approaching to his neck.

-You’ll live a little longer-, Daera whispered with a growing smile.

Fuck screamed with terror, quickly silenced when the princess violently placed Cunt’s bleeding bollocks on his mouth and made him to chew on them.

■ ■ ■

Aemond and Vhagar’s flight was…a silent one. The breeze and the dragon’s breathing are one. Her wings flap quietly, her body soars calmly. The Queen of All Dragons, by all means, goes with tranquility, not worried by anything, neither ashamed of any doings.

On the other hand, the prince that rides on her back is not sharing her feelings at all. Vhagar might be serene, but Prince Aemond is a nervous wreck.

Lucerys has been slain.

Aemond’s only eye is blinkless. His gloved hands are held to his saddle with tension; his palms are sweating below the black leather.

He did it.

His hair is humid, priorly wet by the rain at Storm’s End. His lips are dry and constantly shaking.

He has killed him.

His heart has been beating with endless fastness for hours and hours. His teeth taste like iron; his tongue like blood.

He killed Luke.

Vhagar growls lowly when she sees the shores of King’s Landing already appearing in front of them. In trance, Aemond looks up from his saddle, staring front. When he saw the Red Keep from the distance, his heart stopped beating and his throat got afflicted within a second.

The prince breathes fastly, pressing his lips with anxiety. His dragon keeps flapping her wings, knowing she were to land in the beach nearest to the castle, where she always nests. But the closer they got to the heart of the capital; the more nervous Prince Aemond grew.

He knows his landing means one thing: his family will ask him how things went. He, then, shall tell them that: he won Lord Borros and House Baratheon to their side, he wooed Ellyn Baratheon, and made her his betrothed. And that he lost control of Vhagar, and got Lucerys killed.

Shamefully, he does not have the gut to tell them, at least not now.

The One-Eyed Prince parted his trembled lips and, within a second, he pushed his saddle down. Vhagar shook her neck; she immediately obeyed, and started to descend quickly, straying from the path towards King’s Landing.

Vhagar landed right in a high hill belonging to The Kingswood. It is night, and late, so no one is around nor near them. The green dragon lifted ton of dirt when she landed, when her wings flapped near the ground. She looked up to the white moon, with her small eyes.

As soon as she landed, Aemond breathed with unquietness while he started to fastly come down from saddle, quickly getting off his dragon’s back. He gets endless chills whilst climbing down the ropes; his altered eye stared at her belly only for a second.

Aemond’s feet landed harshly on the ground when he jumped away from Vhagar. He breathes in and out, in and out, fastly and anxiously. He feels his legs trembling, and his heart about to stop beating. Is this how it feels to die? Is his body preparing him for a feeling even worst than this?

“Gods. Gods. Gods”

The prince walks with shaky legs, looking all around at the trees with his eye filled of despair. His parted mouth breathes heavily, the same as how his chest feels. He doesn’t feel his arms, which are hanging to the sides of his body.

-Fuck-, he whimpered with a string of voice.

“Help me. Help me. Oh, please may the Gods help me”

Aemond couldn’t hold himself for much longer. He fell right on his knees, making them to clash against the dirt on the ground. The prince shrieks while he looks around, looking for some light. He hasn’t one thought on his mind and, at the very same time, a thousand of them.

He’s in shock; that it is. The shock on him is so big that he’s thinking that by calling the gods for help he’ll get out of this. Well, he won’t. He’s fucked, he’s condemned. And he knows it. He knows what this means, Aemond is no fool.

He knows this will bring war. What he does not know yet: he has brought the doom of his family as well.

The prince breathes in, shaky, slowly turning his head, looking over his shoulder. He stares at Vhagar, who looked back at him with tranquility and blinkless eyes. Kneeled, the one-eyed huffs a dry laugh.

-What have you done?-, he whispered. His eye stared to her belly, and he shivered when thinking that Luke and his dragon are both literally in there, dead and butchered-. Oh- oh Vhagar, what have you done?!-. His voice shook with disbelief, looking at her.

Vhagar does nothing but to growl lowly and calmly, looking back at him with no shame nor pity. Queen Visenya’s ancient fierceness shined on her former dragon’s eyes. Oh, if dragons could talk.

“I did what I wanted to”, Vhagar would say, “What you also wanted me to do”. She knows her rider is just blinded by fear, or whatever, right now, but the truth is that: her desires were the same as his when they were in the skies. “Are you a coward now?”.

“Imma kinslayer”, Prince Aemond told to himself while looking at Vhagar’s huge tum. Is that what he’s supposed to say to his family? Or is he to confess that he lost control of his own dragon, like an idiot? What is he to do? What- what is to happen now?

Aemond breathes fastly, heavily overwhelmed by the whole situation; he is not having one clear thought at the moment. He feels like a child again. He’s just scared, and he wants to cry.

The One-Eyed Prince turned his head again and, from this high hill, he stared at The Red Keep. His chest comes up and down whilst his only eye, teary, looks at there with not one blink in the middle. Tired and wary, he starts to close his lips. His family is in that castle.

Hours, the prince thinks. Is just a matter of hours for the Black to know about Luke’s death, about what Aemond has done, if they don’t know it already. Then, war will come.

“War. War. War”

It is imminent. It's inevitable now. There is no turning back, and now the war is getting closer. It's almost at the door of his house.

And, when thinking of this, prince Aemond twisted his lips with determination, ceasing their trembling. He growled as he stood up from the floor, and ran towards Vhagar with stiff feet and legs.

He is scared, yes, but he can't afford to stay here, worrying and crying, cursing his dragon's actions. His dear dragon. No. He will act, he has to. And he has to do it now.

-SOVES, VHAGAR!-. With a loud growl, Aemond commanded his dragon to fly, pulling her ropes tightly when he took seat on his saddle.

Quick to answer, Vhagar growled as well, and took off from The Kingswood with a big flap from her wings. They rose in the skies again, flying faster than before. Aemond breathes fastly, clenching his teeth and jaw.

Tears come up to his eyes and then they run down his cheeks, one after another and another after one. Fright and shock have been keeping his thoughts at a limit. He doesn't want to think too far into the future; He couldn't stand it.

So…

He forces himself to live in the moment, to go to protect his family.

He forces himself to not think of Daera and the hate he’ll won from her.

He forces himself to think that he’s still on time, that they can prepare for whatever that may come.

Aemond forces himself to pretend that he doesn't feel a pair of raged eyes on his neck at all times, crossing the entirety of the Blackwater Rush.

■ ■ ■

Daemon stands over an open window. A red gaze of his crosses the whole sea; there is rage on his purple eyes, immense. His chest comes up and down with a slow infuriated breathing. His fists are tight to the sides of his body, he has tears on his demonic eyes.

More than one cry is taking over the room he’s in.

Viserys and Aegon are crying on their cradles; their faces are red and their throats are shrieking, constantly babbling, in the need of tending and kisses. They’re so uncomfortable and unquiet; there’s a reason for that.

Their mother, Rhaenyra, is crying louder than them. Her palms are flat open in a wall. Her head shakes from one side to another whilst her mouth whines endlessly and her closed eyes tear up with no stop. The Queen cries with the worst pain of her life; her chest feels empty.

In Dragonstone, the sky is still dark, but it is almost dawn, so a new day has arrived. All that can be heard around the castle is the crying coming from Queen Rhaenyra’s chambers, from her very self. Every lord, servant and knight either shivers or looks down every time a scream makes echo through the walls.

A dark cloud has been casted on Dragonstone, when news of Prince Lucerys’ death reached his parents’ ears.

-Luke!-, a broken sob comes out from Rhaenyra’s mouth. She cries brokenly, curving her brows and lifting her face towards the ceiling, looking at it with swollen eyes and a trembling open mouth-. Why?-, she whispers sorrowful. To only imagine it, her boy- her son…killed with no mercy-. FU- UCK!-, she cried with a torn heart, screaming loudly.

Master Gerardys had to quickly fetch something to make Prince Joffrey to fall asleep, for the boy became mad when he heard that his brother, Luke, had been murdered by their own uncle, the prince Aemond.

Joff cried less than his mother, but that was only because he busied himself with trying to escape the guards’ arms when wanting to take Tyraxes and fly himself to avenge his brother. With a mouth resembling his step-father and older sister’s, Joff swore a terrible oath of vengeance against Prince Aemond and even Lord Borros. Only the intervention of Ser Erryk kept the boy from mounting his dragon at once.

It was the same with his sister, the princess Rhaena.

-My baby…-, Rhaenyra sobs with a shaky voice, afflicting her throat.

In The Chamber of the Painted Table, when the news was announced, Rhaena fell from a chair to her knees, screaming, crying and whining so loudly that it waked the whole island entirely. Some even searched for some wound, cut or tumor in her, to see if it was that she was burning from within.

Rhaena screamed with so much pain, and squeezed her own chest with so much sorrow, feeling her heart being plucked away from it with no mercy, just as Luke’s probably was too. She cried the name of her brother, her betrothed, four times. After the fourth cry, her father ordered Maester Gerardys to sedate her too, and so he did.

Prince Daemon looks outside with lips trembling of rage, and eyes flickering of grief. His nose is sweating endlessly, and his mouth is dry. Every second he thinks of different moments of Lucerys. Training on the beach, laughing with his siblings, asking him to help with his saddle. Every second he thinks of different ways of murdering Aemond. Tie him barefoot on stones in fire, slicing off his cock and making him to eat it as his last meal, watch him burn.  

Queen Rhaenyra squeezes her belly with one hand whilst the other remains flat on a wall; is the only thing keeping her steady while she cries her soul out. Her feelings are indescribable; no mother should go through this. With the blur of her tears, she can only see him. As a babe, as a child, as a young man. He has been taken away from her…he’ll never be grown up. Her boy. Her sweet boy.

You may be wondering where does Princess Baela stand, in all this. Well then, if you must.

The princess left the Chamber of the Painted Table with swift steps, airless. She reached her dorms, staggering, where she was free to yell as much as she wanted. She fell flat on her bed and cried until ending voiceless and with a sore throat.

She didn’t believe it.

Caraxes, Syrax and Moondancer’s shrieks were constantly heard very near the castle, startling the servants many times. They’re furious too.

Baela cried, but not for long, for now she finds herself walking with firmness and quickness through the castle’s hallways. There are dry tears on her swollen purple eyes, tears that she slapped away from her with angry growls. She is in denial, and scolded herself for her crying.

Soon, the princess arrived to Rhaenyra and Daemon’s chambers. She opened the doors within a push, walking into it with rage and despair. Before the harsh sound of the doors, Daemon looked over his tense shoulder and Rhaenyra lifted up her red face. Viserys and Aegon went silent.

They find Baela with a lifted chin and shoulders.

-Baela…-, Rhaenyra sobbed her name with weakness, looking at her from feet to toe. She looked at her, and her lips trembled when seeing her step-mother’s red sorrowful face.

-I come not to mourn-. The princess spoke harshly, shaking her head. Daemon starts to turn around fully, staring at her with wide red eyes of attention-. My brother is not dead-. She declared with a stiff lip, serious.

Rhaenyra sighed shakily, staring at her with curious eyes of sadness, and tilting her head to a side while heading both her hands to her flat belly. Daemon, blinkless, listens to his daughter too.

-This is not Luke’s end!-. Baela’s loud voice trembled when saying his name. Nyra’s lips shook too, though her head began to nod, slowly-. Not in the hands of a deranged wretch-, she mumbled with decision, shaking her head-. Let us look for him-. She decided.

-Look for him?-, Daemon fastly repeated with his sharp loud voice.

-Look for him!-. His middle daughter nodded with the same sharpness. Hopeful, Rhaenyra caresses her belly, and begins to nod with tiredness.

-Baela…-, his father mumbled, almost ashamed. He fears their hope, for it can only bring more pain to them-. They said th-

-Then you have been misled!-. She quickly cut his words, yelling with firmness. Daemon closes his lips, serious. He hums lowly, looking at the both of them with thoughtful sour eyes.

-Yes…-, a weak whisper came out from Rhaenyra’s lips. Her husband looked at her, and his gaze automatically became softer. She breathes in with deepness. Pain and decision on her eyes-. Yes-. She spoke firmer than before, letting go her belly.

-We’ll find him-. Baela approached to her with decision, holding one of her hands. Rhaenyra sobs and looks at her with curved brows, nodding with the same conviction.

-We’ll leave at dawn-. Queen Rhaenyra declared.

The three share a look between them, decided, but none of the two women dared to ponder the question “What if we don’t?”.

Nevertheless, prince Daemon stood tall, and walked towards them with slow harsh steps, staring at the both of them. Baela gulped, holding Rhaenyra’s hand tighter.

-Whatever the come out, the Greens’ bloodline will end on our dragons’ bellies, their heads on our shelfs…-. He speaks with poison and sourness. His wife’s lips tremble, whilst his daughter nodded, bitter as him-. We will breathe fire, and drink blood-. The prince madly declared.

He approaches to the both of them, with his irritated eyes shining with blood and vengeance thirst. He narrows his eyes.

-Gaomagon ao emagon zire isse ao?-. The Rogue Prince asked, filled of wrath.

[Do you have it in you?]

■ ■ ■

Back to The Neck, Vermax landed on firm ground, growling lowly. His rider, the prince Jacaerys, landed him near where they were camping before, as he calculated before coming down.

Coming off from his saddle, the prince sighs tiredly, patting his dragon’s back.

-I am sorry, Vermax-. He whispered with shame and pity, caressing him. Vermax growled with tediousness, closing his eyes and shaking his neck.

Sadly, there are no sheep nor mutton or cows in swamps, so the search for dinner for the dragons was a total fiasco. Vermax hungers, and it seems that he’ll have to wait until arriving to Winterfell and see what can be offered to him.

Jacaerys sighed heavily, petting him. As he saw, Kalistrox is still in the skies with Daera. They did not exchange words or glances as they flew, as each one was focused on their dragon's supper.

-Alright-. The prince sighs, starting to walk with full calmness. His dragon, purring, follows him slowly-. I know you’re tired but at least help me to…-, as he goes walking and looking front, Jace starts to furrow his brows, cutting his own words-…lit back the fire?-. He mumbles.

He was planning to lit a new fire. But as he approached to where they were before, he realized the fire was still lit, just as he left it. Jace tilts his head to a side with confusion, keeping approaching, and wondering if he was wrong.

When being closer, and seeing their furs and bedsheets, he knew he hasn’t wrong. This is their fire, which confused him, for Daera told him she’d stay to turning it off, and the she’d go up with Kalistrox. Now she’s up there with Kalistrox, he thinks, but the fire is still here.

As Jacaerys approaches to the camp, he noticed a piece of luggage that wasn’t there before, big and lumpy, too big to seem like one of theirs. The prince approaches with slow steps and curious eyes, staring at the luggage as he walks by it.

Jacaerys takes three more steps, looking at it with confusion and mistrust. Only seconds then is that he got to look at it from the front.

And right at that moment, the “luggage” came to life. Vermax squealed whilst Jacaerys gasped when they realized it was a man with his hands and feet tied that struggled against the ropes with despair and fear.

-Ah!-, Jace steps back with quickness; he’s shocked and scared, with his eyes wide open. He breathes fast, seeing all the blood that man is covered with. The man’s screams and pleadings of help are muted by some bloody hairy bollocks on his wide mouth.

The man, Fuck, cries and struggles with terror, moving like a worm in dirt. The prince Jacaerys breathes very fastly, as confused as grossed out, looking at him with wide eyes. Steps are heard near them. Fuck tried to yell loudly to the boy, kicking his feet and looking like he was…trying to warn him about something? …Someone.

-Nyke emagōn pōja havor [I found their supper]-. A taunt mumbling voice spoke behind him.

Jace turns around with frighted eyes. He afflicted his throat strongly, for his eyes automatically traveled to the ground, and in there he found more “pieces of luggage”. More bodies. But these are not alive, as the other one. They’re butchered people, long gone.

Dumb. A man with no hands, bleeding his wrist out; his belly all open, hence his organs on the floor, and his face stained by shit. Dead. A woman with a hole in the middle of her eyes, which are open. Cunt. A man that has no upper body, for neither his torso, arms chest or head are to be found; in the middle of his legs there’s no cock. Bitch. And another woman, literally sliced in two. Her legs are chopped like fresh ham, whilst her upper body lacks a nipple in one of her breasts; instead, is between her lips, soaked in blood.

Jacaerys breathes slowly and deeply, with eyes of fright and marvel, not believing his sight. Feeling his heart beating crazily, his brown orbs slowly began to look up, following a tread of blood from the cock-less body.

Soon, he comes to the sight of his wife standing over a rock. Her hand is holding another, that belongs to the upper-body to the cockless man. His throat is sliced, and his face stained with vomit, blood and mud; his eyes closed, his hand hold to hers.

Daera is bathed in red dirty blood, her pants and dress are torn, and her hair disheveled and wild. Her hands are bloody, so are her arms, so is her neck, her mouth, her teeth, her cheeks, forehead and her pupils. Little of that river of blood is hers.

There is a terrifying calm in her eyes, which are staring at him endlessly. Slightly swinging the corpse whom she holds hands with, Daera looks at Jace amidst all the blood that paints her eyes. Blinkless, she's breathing slowly.

Mouth-open, Jacaerys’ chest comes up and down. Mesmerized and terrified, he looks at his wife from down, not even smelling the blood, neither hearing the man’s pleadings and struggles. The prince merely blinks, shocked by the sight in front of him, the sight of her.

Unfazed by her blood-dripping face, The Rogue Princess looks back at him with easiness; a glim of taunt in her eyes. She sniffed her nose.

■ ■ ■

#house of the dragon #targaryen #aemond targaryen #aemondtargaryen #the one eyed prince #ewan mitchell #rhaenyra targaryen #daera targaryen #lucerys velaryon #the dance of the dragons #daemon targaryen father

[daimonpriestess]

Wonderland

A/N: wrote this after a dream/astral travel, I had with Loki. The actual norse god not marvel.

Warnings: Some plot and smut.

I was outside in the underworld on the cliff where my tree was overlooking a raging river. When I heard a familiar voice call out in a hushed tone. "Psst Amara!"

I turned to see Loki up in one of the branches of the large fairy tree. "Loki what are you doing up there?!"

I spoke up in surprise but really I wasn't. Surprised that is, this wasn't the first time I had encountered Loki in the underworld, laying either in or under the tree that was my entrance to hell.

Loki jumped down then, putting a hand quickly to my mouth. "Shhh Darling, I'm not supposed to be here."

I pulled his hand away with a wry look, "When are you ever supposed to be here?"

Loki chuckled at that. "Touche.'"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "But seriously Loki what are you-" I was cut off mid sentence when he pulled me with him into the entrance of my tree.

Behind the door they couldn't see us, but we could see them. Loki put a finger to his lips with a wink, as we watched a large demon lumber past.

We were practically on top of one another when he whispered, "Let's go talk somewhere more private."

Then we were suddenly in my fairy garden. I don't know how Loki even knew how to get here but he was a god.

The garden was bright, innocent with tiny fairies flitting around with white butterfly like wings. A long dining table was in the center, a white lace tablecloth over it, 6 placements set for tea or a dinner party.

I noticed then that Loki was shirtless, had he been a moment ago? Was he trying to distract me? Possibly, but I still had questions. Before I could ask though Loki replied, " Yes I know what your going to say, yes that past life and many more are real. We were together. Why do you think I'm so attracted to you? I wouldn't try so hard for just anyone."

I nodded in understanding. I had other questions but honestly they all flew from my head. I couldn't concentrate when he looked like that.

I said as much and he smirked when he noticed me lick my lips. Loki walked closer to me then snaking a hand around my waist. "But I am a good distraction eh?" He asked low, making his accent thicker. Damn him.

I didn't say anything just let him pull me onto the table. I was the one though to grab him to me as he gripped my hips and with one look kissed me passionately.

Suddenly I pulled away as a thought struck me. "Wait Loki, what if Lucifer or someone else shows up?" I knew Asmodeus didn't come into the garden but Lucifer did and he would not be happy to see me with the trickster, the plates askew where we had pushed them aside.

Loki made a show of trying to think for a moment then with a grin, snapped his fingers as a literal rabbit hole appeared in the ground. "I know just the place."

I gasped as he pulled me along with him and we fell down the rabbit hole. We landed softly on the dirt floor.

It was dark until Loki snapped his fingers and a light seemingly out of nowhere illuminated the room.

"You were wondering what we did with the offerings that were given to us." As Loki spoke i noticed the walls glowing green and black. And an area where their lay a mound of toys, plushies and various other gifts or offerings. "Unlike some I keep my offerings, mostly."

Loki was now dressed as the Mad Hatter I realized and I was Alice, how fitting. Loki did make the Mad Hatter suit quite attractive with his long red hair and beard. He noticed me looking, winking at me with a tip of his hat.

I looked away quickly at that. Noticing then on the other side a large bed with a royal purple nightstand. The bed was white with a luxurious cream colored fur blanket.

I immediately went to lay on it. Loki noticed and joined me. Laying beside me.

"Should we finish what we started?" Loki whispered in my ear, his voice sending shivers down me as he slowly ran his hands up me. Whispering all the things he wanted to do to me and I to him. That was all it took, I wrapped my arms around his neck as he kissed me deeply.

We made out for quite awhile unti with a gleam in his eye, Loki picked me up to sit on top of him, I took his hat off him as we made out more, I grinded against him as he groaned against my lips.

"We start I won't be able to stop."

"So don't."

"Are you sure Amara?" He asked.

I gave him a look, "Finish what you started Loki."

"Gladly."

With a wolfish grin, Loki began to slowly undress me, undoing the ties that held the corset together, with his teeth. I let out a sigh when he started kissing my chest then a squeal of surprise as he flipped me over onto the bed.

Loki dragged his hands down me as he grinned up at me. I closed my eyes as he kissed down my body. Then undressed me the rest of the way as he went down, opening me up as he touched me first with his finger and then his tongue as it flicked my clit. I moaned as he all but made out with me and no I'm not talking about my mouth.

Once I came, he slowly undressed. Giving me a full show of his lean toned body. I ran a hand down his chest, as he looked down at me a lustful gleam in his eyes.

Loki leaned over me as I put a hand softly through his hair, then over his scarred lips, tracing them. He grabbed my wrists then,softer than I was used to, giving me a languid kiss.

I rose up as he kissed me, he was hard and I was more than ready as he slipped slowly into me. I felt every inch of him as he moved. Easily slipping into that euphoric place that happened with very few.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and he brought a leg up to kiss it. "You're beautiful love." He whispered in my ear as he steadily brought me a second time, as we made love.

Loki came soon after, but didn't stop until I came a third time. Only once I was spent did Loki withdraw. He rolled over then so I could lay with him.

As he pulled me close with a kiss to my forehead. "How was that? Worth waiting for?" He asked with a cheeky smile.

"Amazing. Also makes me wish I hadn't denied you for months." I quipped back.

Loki laughed at that and I smirked. "She's right you do laugh like a fox."

Loki shook his head at that and said, "That girlfriend of yours. Also..." Loki trailed off with a playful grin as he tickled me. Then pinned me down again.

"Round 2?"

I looked up at him in surprise. "Again? But Loki I thought we had work-"

Loki interrupted me with a finger to my lips. "Shhh Love, you know what they say all work and no play makes my little Valkyrie a right bitch."

I widened my eyes at that but only laughed as he kissed my neck.

Round two indeed....and okay maybe a round three.

#fiction? #loki and i #loki laufeyjarson #norse gods #past life love #smut #astralsex

[pianostarinwonderland]

haha coffins go brrr [a theory post]

So I thought about several concepts at once: the reincarnation theory, the coffin theory, and the concept of TWST boys being self-aware that they're in a game. And I thought, What if we mixed these together into one big theory?

First, let's define said concepts. The reincarnation theory is the theory that all the TWST boys are reincarnations of their respective Disney character (e.g. Riddle is reincarnated from the Queen of Hearts). The coffin theory recently gained popularity due to the manga. Basically, it's the theory that those who enroll in NRC actually died in their previous lives. It gained popularity because of how the manga panels depicting Yuuken's and Yuuka's encounter with the horse carriage looks like they were gonna get run over and killed. I call it coffin theory because it's more concise than saying "the students-were-initially-dead theory". Lastly, the concept of TWST boys being aware that they're in a game is more of a fanart/fanfic trope than a theory. It's self-explanatory. But specifically for this post, we are going to go with this idea: The boys are aware that they were just created on the spot and given a data of what their names are, their "backstory", etc.

I think you may know where this is going.

Crowley stated in the Twisted Wonderland light novel** that the coffins are a representation of the passing from your old world to your new world (referring to Night Raven College). It can be thought that the old world just represents your old life, where you were living in another country. However, many fans speculated that it could also mean that old world means the world you came from, the world you used to live in until you were killed, and thus you were transported to TWST.

Now, looking at the Great Seven, it is interesting to note that every single one of them, with the exception of the Queen of Hearts and Hades, have suffered a gruesome death.

Scar was attacked (and probably eaten) by the hyenas.

Ursula was stabbed by the hull of a sunken ship and struck by lightning.

Jafar was turned into a genie at the end of Aladdin, but in Return of Jafar, after attempting to kill Aladdin, his lamp was eventually destroyed, consequently ending his life. In the Hercules TV show, he was temporarily revived but eventually casted back to the Underworld.

Queen Grimhilde (Evil Queen) fell off a cliff.

Maleficent was stabbed by Prince Philip.

While the Queen of Hearts never died, it is important to note that she was just a figment of someone's dream. In a sense, she could have passed on the moment Alice woke up. But even then, she was not immortal—she would have passed away at some point.

Hades is interesting. As a god, he cannot die, and falling into the River Styx would not kill him. However, I like to suggest that perhaps gods are immortal because there is a people who believe in them and worship them. The moment that a religion is no longer believed in, the gods of said religion die away. Perhaps Hades could have died in that way. It's similar to the Queen of Hearts in a way.

How about everyone else who was inspired by a non-Great Seven character? All the cards that served as basis for the Heartslabyul boys were part of a dream. Hyenas and wolves are not immortal, so are eels and humans. Apples have their own death. Everyone else had to have gone through death in some way.

From here, we can say that everyone 'died'. And so what if they have all reincarnated into the next life, aka the TWST boys?

But here's the catch: they aren't born. Their "birth" was not through a mother's womb, but through the coffins of Night Raven College.

Now, why would they have memories of their childhoods, from joys to traumas?

This is where the trope of the boys being self-aware that they're in a game comes in... except they're not self-aware but somebody has written their "backstory" and "personality" instead of them forming it themselves like .. you know .. actual living people.

Now hey! Maybe it's a stretch! It definitely sounds like a stretch!

(a) Twisted Wonderland is such an odd name for a world. You have to wonder why people decided to just go along with that name instead of being more serious on what to call their world.

(b) Something about the maps of the campus, Sage Island, and the surrounding countries look like old storybook drawings. It could be me, but the coloring and the drawing look very whimsical and more reminiscent of a storybook.

(c) In the Twisted Wonderland opening, in the ending sequence where a series of images are quickly shown, there's a shot of a book in the library.

(d) Ink. When you use magic, ink builds up in your magic gem and then in your body. What do you use to write? Ink.

So in conclusion... honestly, I'm just making a crack theory here. But what if everyone did come to NRC because they died in their previous lives, except that they never lived in their new selves?

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst theory

[bracketsoffear]

Not!Propaganda for my Web Submissions that didn't make it:

The Hive (The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals): Fungal spores from the meteor that struck the Starlight Theatre infect humans, transforming them into members of the alien Hive Mind, easily spotted by the "blue shit" they have in place of bodily fluids and their tendency to burst into saccharine musical numbers. They increase in numbers by spiking the coffee at Beanie’s with spores from the meteor. They exploit people’s desires to take manipulate and infect them. For example, “Sam” uses Charlotte’s love for her husband to trick her into releasing him and getting killed, while “Alice” torments Bill by accusing him of failing his daughter, alternating between gloating that she’s “Not your seed” and lamenting how Bill wasn’t there for her as his child. By the end of the musical, they’ve taken over all of Hatchetfield and canonically go on to bring “apotheosis” to the entire world in weeks. They’re basically a living deconstruction of the creepy synchronization musical theatre characters must have to perform together. Their master is also all but confirmed to be Pokotho, The Singular Voice. Ruled by pollrunner to be more Corruption than Web.

Patches (Bloodborne): A human-faced spider that worships the Amygdala--the enormous laser spider fuckers who shoot lasers at you--found around Yharnam. Upon his initial indirect appearance Patches will express sympathy for the player’s plight--”Oh, a hunter of beasts, are you? Glory be. You know not the value you possess. But, more's the pity... The hours of the night are many, and the beasts more then I can count […] Not even death offers solace, and the blood imbibes you.” He then pretends to be doing the player a favor by directing them to “something grand”: “I'm willing to do you a kindness. step lightly round to the right of the great cathedral, and seek an ancient, shrouded church. The gift of the godhead will grant you strength... Yes, I'm unquestionably certain.” Because he’s fucking Patches, this of course baits the unwitting player to visit the church at the top of Yahar'gul and thus to be grabbed by the Amygdala hidden within and transported to the Lecture Building while he gloats. In the Lecture Building, he expresses his rapturous faith in the asshole laser spiders, claiming that he’s giving you a gift by putting you in danger: “What a joy it is, to behold the divine. it must be such a pleasure. You're in my debt, you know. You're nigh on a beast of the field, but here you are, treading a measure with the gods.” In the Nightmare Frontier, he lays treasure at the edge of a cliff and kicks you off of it if you fall for the bait. Either way, when you find him again, he begs for forgiveness, and again twists it so you’re the bad guy if you refuse: “You've made yourself a misreckoning. I shared with you a thing most secret. Now you're witness to a miracle, and all the stronger for it! It's plain as a pikestaff. Now, say in my heart, you were as a lamb to my God. Well, you weren't to know, and it wasn't for you to know. All's well, that ends well, I say.” First, there’s the obvious arachnophobia of a man-headed spider sacrificing people to homicidal eldritch spiders like a smarmy Mr. Spider. He also fits the manipulation parts of The Web because he tricks you by exploiting your greed to lure you into danger, then blaming you for not appreciating it. Everyone even remotely familiar with previous iterations of Patches knows he’s full of shit…but he’s the loveable kind of asshole, and it’d be funny, it’s basically tradition to get kicked over the cliff, and THAT’S HOW HE FUCKING GETS YOU.

The Music Meister (Batman: The Brave and The Bold): Picked on at school for being in choir, he eventually discovered that he could control people's minds using his singing voice: “The ruffians around me quickly fell into a trance / And it was then with wicked glee I made those puppets dance!” He uses his powers to compel people into helping his villainous schemes, reveling in the absolute control he has over his victims: “He’s the Music Meister/ He's the Music Meister! / And we are all his pawns!’ He doesn’t even have to actually be singing, as the characters he mind-controls in the first scene start singing along to the music before he enters, knowing they’re acting against their wills but not knowing why. He forces several heroes and villains to dance and sing in his introduction song while helping him launch a satellite into space, then disposes of them when they’re no longer useful by ordering them to kill themselves: “And now that Batman's been delayed, your usefulness has passed / A distraction is what I need, so kick into that blast!” His master plan is using the satellite to mind control the entire planet, which he successfully does in the climax, making them steal the wealth of the world and sing his praises.

Aranea Serket (Homestuck): Like her dancestor, Vriska, Aranea possesses the ability to exert influence or outright control over the minds of others; She is shown being able to control vast multitudes of trolls and, through this control, use their abilities by proxy (as shown by her manipulation of various incarnations of Damara Megido whilst she was in an entirely different plane of reality). Having millions of years to hone her abilities and being a godtier, she plans to essentially hijack the multiverse and make it fit her whims. She plans on preventing Lord English from coming into being by messing with the timeline and using her Sylph of Light powers to make it into the alpha timeline after it becomes doomed; then she plans on making countless other universes she intends to watch over and prevent the rise of someone else like him from ever happening. To accomplish this, she mind controls Gamzee into resurrecting her, then activates Jake’s Hope powers without his consent and starts going by Mindfang (the title of her post-Scratch counterpart, known for keeping the Dolorosa as a mind-controlled sex slave and having the amazing life Aranea aspires to live). She wrecks everyone else's plans and either incapacitate or outright kill anyone who gets in her way because she was tired of only being a background character while everyone else got to live such interesting lives. According to Meenah, “the stuff she does is never about the things shes actually doing. its about what those things M-EAN and makin sure everyone KNOWS what they mean. and above all makin sure everyone understands how important she is cause shes obviously the source of all that critical M-EANING without which all action would be pointless right?” Like Vriska, her plans are ultimately less about solving everyone’s problems and more about making herself important, getting to be the center of everything. This is reflected by her Title--as the Sylph of Light, she seeks to “heal” the narrative relevance (Light) she lacks to become the main character of the story. Unfortunately, got fewer submissions than Vriska.

The Dawn Machine (Sunless Sea): A sinister device being constructed at the south-west point of the Unterzee. The slogan of the Dawn Machine's creators, the New Sequence, is "progress without change" — social structures and traditions reborn in a new, unified, efficient, form. In the Fallen London universe, the laws in the universe are dictated by the Judgements — stars. They decide what Is and destroy what Is Not with their light. The reason why the Neath is so full of weirdness is that the Judgements can't detect or reach it with their light (except Aestival). This is important because the Dawn Machine is actually a customized version of a Judgement built by the New Sequence, which means that they can put whatever laws that they want into it, functionally rewriting the universe to their own designs. They indeed got something pretty close to a Judgement…complete with the "sentient" part, which became a problem when their lawmaking machine decided "everyone should obey me" is now a law and burned it into its followers' brains. In its supremacy ending, it takes over London, giving everyone in it a new lease on life at the cost of their free will and presumably the wellbeing of everyone outside of London.

Handsome Jack (Borderlands): Jack wanted everything under his thumb and watchful eye, from a planet filled with bandits and hostile creatures to a powerful Vault Monster to his own daughter, who he enslaved as a living computer terminally addicted to Eridium in retaliation for her accidentally killing her mother. As of the beginning of the Pre-Sequel, Jack is presented as just some guy in over his head with heroic aspirations, yet those who have completed Borderlands 2 know that he has already wired Angel up to Hyperion's A.I. and used her to trick the original 1 Vault Hunters into opening a Vault filled with "nothing but tentacles and disappointment," causing the mineral eridium to emerge on the surface of Pandora. He's hired another gaggle of Vault Hunters to come find another Vault on the moon, he's built a massive orbital laser cannon into Helios, and he's commissioned a surgical body double--all this while still a "low-level Hyperion programmer." In a position where others might be content to pilfer office supplies or make personal long-distance calls on company phones, he's already meddling with the destiny of the galaxy. He then takes over Hyperion, declares himself Dictator of Pandora, blocks the light by building a base right in front of the planet's moon, and claims credit for finding the Vault and slaying of The Destroyer. He tricks potential Vault Hunters into coming to Pandora, then has them killed after they board his monorails. Even after he’s dead, his AI copy tries to reclaim his power by building up a friendly rapport with Rhys (whose cybernetics he’s installed in), then attempting to bodyjack Rhys after Rhys becomes CEO of Hyperion. Ruled by pollrunner to be more Stranger, which I strongly disagree with, but my explanation wasn't really the best and the mask is pretty creepy.

Honorary mention for Magica DeSpell (Ducktales 2017): She created Lena as her servant, emotionally abusing and dominating her for her entire life to make Lena follow her orders; she promised Lena her freedom in exchange for the Number One Dime, but the absolute disregard she shows for Lena’s wellbeing or personhood indicates that her plan was always to suck Lena back into her shadow in the end. When she sees that Lena is growing more independent and seeking out friends, she doubles down on the intimidation and starts physically jerking Lena’s body around to stop her from disobeying. This culminates in her using Lena as a meat puppet (while Lena is apparently conscious) to take the dime and attack Lena’s loved ones. She’s not really a Web Avatar on the whole, but Ducktales Season 1 from Lena’s perspective is such a Web Statement that I had to mention her.

Honorary mention for Sam Reich (Game Changer), who is a real person and therefore disqualified. However, as someone who has seen this man gleefully fuck with his contestants using everything from unionbusting via bringing in a scab, intentionally just-hard-enough-to-be-unwinnable minigames designed to prey on a man's psychological weaknessess, and secretly locking three people in a greenroom covertly converted into an escape room, to the point that these people fully believed he faked a vote in the Survivor episode to turn them against each other, I fully believe that a fiction Sam Reich could be an Avatar of the Web.

And one more who I think deserves his own post.

.

#asks #web poll #not!character propaganda

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What if Bella’s gift in a effort to stop her from jumping off the cliff created it’s own version of the cullens for Bella after they left forks.

Oh, this is delightful.

Things get weird is what happens.

Bella at the Cliff

Before Bella can jump, just as she's confronted with the hallucination of Edward, Alice screams out to stop her. Bella turns and sees Alice in front of her. Initially, Bella is very confused. Is Alice real or a hallucination, she's still not sure when Alice goes over to hug her and asks how Alice got there.

Alice tells her that she had a vision.

Bella's doubts are cleared, Hallucination Edward never once claimed to be anything other than a hallucination. He, in fact, only will say not to do things and then disappear. Alice is having an actual conversation with her.

Bella breaks down.

Alice shepherds her back to Bella's house (where Charlie is currently absent) and proceeds to comfort her. There Bella asks why she left and why she's returned. Now, the trouble is Pod Person Bella is just something Bella's gift has produced to prevent her from jumping off cliffs. It doesn't know what Alice would say either.

So, it instead says what Bella wants to hear: that they never actually abandoned Bella, wanted to reach out to her, but that something prevented them from communicating or returning all this time.

"Bella, I'm so sorry, believe me we would have if we could. But we were in the Bear Dimension."

Fake Alice spins a tale where she and the others were immediately sucked into the Bear Dimension which conveniently made it look like they'd moved/never existed. Edward had immediately regretted breaking up with Edward and wanted to return to her but Bear Dimension. They only just escaped.

Bella can hardly believe it, except for the fact that she desperately wants to. While she doesn't believe Edward truly loves her, here at least is a reason they fell off the face of the Earth: because they did.

Before she can think further Edward reappears to declare that yes, he does love her, and will gladly turn her into a vampire so they can be together forever.

Only...

He can't bite her (Edward, not being a real person, doesn't have venom).

Bella then has a vote for them to turn her into a vampire. They all vote yes but then none of them do anything about it. You see Bella, their venom is also in the Bear Dimension.

Pity that.

Canon Proceeds, Sort Of

Canon proceeds except the Cullens are even more Cullen-y than usual (per the town's perspective). Bella pressures Edward to try to get his venom back from the bears but is more than happy to be in a relationship with him and that he wants to turn her.

The wolves find themselves increasingly distressed about Victoria but no one realizes there's a newborn army because the Cullens aren't actually the Cullens.

Likely, then, the Volturi actually arrive to take care of Victoria as Edward never went to Volterra to kill himself and put himself on the Volturi's radar. Because the Cullens aren't actually in Forks, the Volturi don't check in on them as Demetri thinks Carlisle Cullen is in New Haven.

What happens is that Bella gets increasingly frustrated at not turning into a vampire/the Bear Dimension. She wonders if the family is lying to her just to not turn her and likely tries to push the envelope so Edward will actually do it.

This likely goes poorly.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #bella swan #the cullens #meta #headcanon #opinion

[feyhunter78]

Turn of the Tide, Call of the Sea (8/?)

Description: After giving Jacaerys and Alyra the map, Harwin reflects on his family's experience with the arcane, and Rhaenyra divulges a key piece of Alicent's past.

Series masterlist

Harwin stood on the shore, watching as his sons and niece sailed away. Alyra was at the stern, waving to him as the wind whipped through her hair. The cloudy look in her eyes had dissipated, clarity returning to her mind.

She was within the grasp of the arcane, teetering on the edge between their realm and the one beyond. It radiated off her in waves, made only stronger by the presence of Helaena. The dreamer, so similar, and yet so different from Viserys.

He spotted the silver hair of Helaena appearing beside Alyra, and he could see it so clearly. His niece and his good-daughter hand in hand on the edge. Would they plummet together or pull each other back into the mortal realm? He prayed they would return unchanged, but feared it was already too late.

If he closed his eyes, he could picture his sister standing beside him, her strange amber eyes gazing out at the sea. She would stand there silently for ages, but sometimes she would hum, strange songs that often set his mind at ease, but drove others to distraction.

“It calls to me, Harwin, even now.” She would finally say, her bare feet in the water, her hand in his, so she wouldn’t dart forward.

“What calls to you?” He’d ask, and she would just look at him, her eyes so bright and piercing.

“The sea, can you not hear its song?” She knew he couldn’t, but that didn’t stop her from asking, or from being disappointed each time he said no. He never understood why she so desperately wanted him to hear it.

When Amina was born there was water in her lungs. They had to clear them, so she could breathe, and yet she still found herself near water whenever possible. So many times, he was chasing after her, keeping her from tumbling over when the waves crashed against her. No matter how hard she fell, she would laugh and go again, embracing the waves like an old friend.

His sweet little cousin, he was already seven when she was born, but they had quickly become attached at the hip. He was the only one she would allow to follow her down to the beach, the only one she told about the call. She would sit beside him and whisper the words the sea sang to her, tell him of what it promised. He would listen and attempt to decipher the riddles, making note of the strange language she began to learn.

It worried him that Alyra was so cold. Amina was always so cold, no matter the layers she wore, the time she spent by the fire, or in the sun. She only warmed in the water, even when he felt the sea was frigid, she delighted in the surf, her hands warm as a Strong’s should be.

When she married, he saw the light begin to fade in her eyes, even though she could still stand in the water, she said it wasn’t the same. Then came the birth of Alyra, a joyous day so soon following the birth of his own son. His sister was smiling, but the light was gone. She mumbled something about a tether, then never spoke of the call to him again.

Footsteps in the sand drew him out of his memories, and he turned to see Rhaenyra, a sad smile on her face.

She came and stood beside him, intertwining their hands. “Did I ever tell you of why Alicent hated the sea?”

“No.” Harwin said, glancing down at her, noticing the way her lower lip trembled.

“When we were young, she nearly drowned. It was after the death of her mother, we were standing up on a cliff, offering prayers for her mother’s soul and the ground gave way beneath her, she plummeted into the water amidst the rocks and sand.”

She let out a shaky breath and Harwin squeezed her hand in reassurance.

“I ran down the cliff and dove into the water to save her, but I couldn’t see with all the debris. When I resurfaced for air, I saw her body washing up on the shore. I swam over to her, but she was already awake and coughing up seawater. The look in her eyes was so odd…and then once she caught her breath, she refused to go near the water ever again.”

And now her daughter sees things in her dreams, strange and unexplainable things. He thought but did not voice aloud.

He heard tales from drunken sailors all his life. Tales of women who ended up in the sea already drowning in grief, how their tears joined with the saltwater, and they emerged strange—different. He would not put these fears into his wife’s head, not as she watched their sons sail away.

“A reasonable reason to fear the ocean.” He said, letting go of her hand to wrap his arm around her and pull her into his side.

“Do you think something happened to her, in the water?”

He smiled despite himself, he had the most brilliant wife in all the realm, nothing slipped past her. “I can’t say for sure; Amina was born odd; I’ve never known anything else.”

“If she was changed that day, then Helaena’s visions must be part of that, just as Alyra’s abilities are. Have we doomed our sons? Sent them off with two who are unprepared to face the lure of the sea?” She leaned into him, looking as fragile as she did the day they first met.

“Perhaps not, Alyra is strong, and you have said Alicent is as well.”

Rhaenyra nodded. “You’re right, I will have faith in our family.”

“There is no shame in worrying Nyra, we’ve sent them on a dangerous quest, I carry my worry for them in my heart every day they are not within our borders.”

She embraced him tightly. “We must trust that together they will survive.”

He returned her embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “They are ours; they can survive anything.”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010, @partypoison00, @serrhaewin, @issshhh, @pax-2735, @malfoytargaryen, @sahanna, @dellalyra, @mxrgodsstuff, @jkhomes, @unusual-raccoon, @boofy1998, @kravitzwhore, @caribbeangel, @krispold, @issshh, @afro-hispwriter, @ryswritingrecord, @prettykinkysoul, @elissanatok, @sahvlren, @its-sam-allgood, @happinessinthbeing, @8e-h-e8, @feyres-fireheart, @just-emmaaaa, @crazylokonugget, @hedahobbit98, @devils-blackrose, @mercedesdecorazon, @snh96, @imjustboredso, @izzicle, @hiatuswhore, @aslanvez, @devils-blackrose, @yentroucnagol, @queenofshinigamis, @partyposion00, @cryptidsrcool

#jacaerys x helaena #helaena x jacaerys #helaena x jace #rhaenyra x harwin #jacaerys velaryon #helaena targaryen #pirate au #hotd fanfics #hotd au #I literally want to cry every time I think about how they kept us from a happy Rhaenyra and Harwin #so obvi I'm gonna keep them together in every fic of mine possible #meg's writing #t&c series #redoing t&c #harwin loves his family ok???

[ask-tsgm]

Who is the Synas that suffered the most in his past and had more traumas than everyone? They look like they had very particular lives, and some look almost devasted by it

Okaayy that's... quite a good one. And I'm glad you ask!

The most traumatized one would be the original in his BP/BPB phase, in which he... well, during BP phase he completely lost it and killed people. PBP is the aftermath of it, where he gets a huge depression and a bunch of mental issues.

Bird got yeeted off a cliff at a young age by his father (this is how he learnt to fly)

G!syn and W.O.W!Syn (wings of war) both went to war. G!syn lost his eye doing so and his hands were badly injured. W.O.W!syn also lost his eye and nearly lost a wing. Both had their brother and father killed during the war.

Dance is actually one of the most mentally okay

Erynas is.... well, he's an error. Pretty fucked up little guy and everyone hates him. Though his past of before and during becoming an error was pretty traumatic, he doesn't remember any of it so he's fine on that part. But still unhinged. I mean. He's an error. :)

Fresh!syn........... nobody knows. But the host is horrified by the parasite inhabiting him

Canon has his load of traumas due to the resets and seeing his brother get killed 13 times (the canon of Syntale is a precise way. After a certain number of genocides things change since everyone remembers the resets) but he's still doing better than og

Fellys has the normal fell au traumas plus a lil accident. One day at a young age he was being chased by exp hunters and one of them got his eye

Sanys got... he got it pretty bad. But covers it up like any papyruses/swap sanses would so he looks generally okay. He never speaks about his trauma

I think that's all of them? I'm not sure, there's so many lol

Anyways hope that answers your question!

-Alice

#dance!synas #dansyn #fellys #sanys #bird!synas #g!synas #bp!synas #erynas #W.O.W!syn #OG!syn #canon syn