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stargazer-luna · 7 months

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For no reason whatsoever, here are random incorrect quotes as things that the Pevensies and some OCs from me and my friends have said... (some quotes we are actually going to use, others are for funnies)(sorry in advance, there's a lot...)

⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️

Edmund: Just because you're pretty doesn't mean you can do anything you want!

Ailie: ...

E: ...

A: You think I'm pretty?

E: WHAT?! NO! S-SHUT UP!

A: Guys! Edmund thinks I'm pretty!

E: please stop...

Susan, Lucy, and Matina: HA! CALLED IT!

⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️

Probably Peter: SMALL FIRE! I SAID TO START A SMALL FIRE! THIS IS NOT SMALL!

Ailie: IT'S NOT MY FAULT THIS PLACE IS EXTREMELY FLAMMABLE!

⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️

Ed: There's no way you could be an assassin!

Matina: And why not?

E: Because, you're just a teen in High School!

M (in an English accent): That's what makes me the best darling...

⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️

Lucy: Why is silence golden?

Matina: Because duct tape is silver.

⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️

?: We need to kick the door down!

Matina or Ailie: I got this! SOME- *kicks down door* BODY ONCE TOLD ME!

⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️

?: You-you're crushing my spleen!

Matina, probably: You don't even know where your spleen is.

⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️

(After a duel with Ailie)

Susan: Why is Edmund bleeding?

Ailie: Because he's stupid.

Lucy: I didn't realize that stupidity caused people to just start spontaneously bleeding from the nose.

Thundertrail: I think it's a new phenomenon.

⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️

Ed or Pete: I have never been so insulted!

Ailie, Susan, or Matina: You don't listen much, do you?

⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️

Ailie (to Ed): OH, you think I'm cute when I'm angry? Well get ready because I'm about to be GORGEOUS!

⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️

Ailie: Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeves.

Ed: I think you mean cards.

Ailie, pulling knives out of her sleeves: No, I do not.

⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️

(The trio is getting in a car)

Matina: I’m driving.

Ailie, out of view: Shotgun!

Matt, turning to face Ailie: Aww! But you had it on the way here-

The twins: WOAH!

Ailie, holding a shotgun: No! I found a shotgun! (Pumps gun) And I want the front seat.

⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️

Ed: I couldn't possibly spar with you and risk hurting such a pretty face...

Matina: Trust me, I'm much more than just a pretty face.

E: I was talking about me- my face.

⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️

Ailie or Ed: I'm going to kill someone.

Su or Pete: Manners, ___

A or E: Politely. I'm going to kill someone politely.

⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️⏩️⏪️

That's the last one lol... sorry again 🤪

#my posts #narnia #oc stuff #high king peter the magnificent #queen susan the gentle #king edmund the just #queen lucy the valiant

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forthedancingandthethriving · 2 months

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(I d e a s.)

TW: Blood, injury, and death

○●○

"Shit-!"

Tama let's out a muffled cry as she's dropped to the muddy ground. The cloth around her muzzle is stained with both blood and now mud too.

She wriggles in her binds the best she can to sit upright. Mud and rainwater cling to her fur as she squints, head throbbing and vision blurry.

It had all happened so fast. Some random Cats had broken into her room, grabbed her, and ran.

Tama didn't know whether to be annoyed or upset, considering this was becoming a slow recurring theme. Cats were taking her a lot more often now. Word was slowly getting out she was from the long forgotten Aire Village, and they were known for their strange affinity for magic. Among.. other things.

"Found you." The voice of Dolion hisses. There's two pairs of footsteps.

"I'm going to make you wish that it was Valiant who found you first."

"W-Wait? Cozbi?! Is that-?!"

Tama squeezed her eyes shut, and it felt as though someone was covering her ears.

Do not open your eyes, kit. The wind whispers to her. Do not open them.

She doesn't. She doesn't open her eyes to see Dolion cut down the kidnapper's body. She doesn't hear how he snarls.

She does, however, feel as she's picked up.

The paws move from her ears, and Arthur whispers, "you can open your eyes, Tama."

Tama doesm. Arthur is smiling down at her, his cream-colored fur gently catching the light. He presses his nose to her forehead. "You aren't hurt, right?"

She shakes her head before pointing to the cloth around her muzzle. He blinks in surprised before carefully cutting it off. With a soft hum of a spell, the cuts and bruises on her were gone too.

"What happened to the other bad guys?" Tama asks softly.

Arthur doesn't look down at the blood mixing with the mud. "They're all taken care of. Do you know why they took you?"

"They said something about getting paid.." She remarks softly.

He nods. "Sleep. We'll be back at the castle soon."

The kit nods and rests her head on his chest, closing her eyes. He watches her closing, before the Flamepoint cat turns his head.

His ears lower a bit, seeing Dolion standing over the one body and the few others he had cut down when the first dropped Tama. The brown and white Ragamuffin cat's grip on his sword was trembling.

"They knew your old name." Arthur spoke softly.

"Someone back in Devos employed them." Dolion finishes his thought, turning his head.

Silence hangs for a moment before Dolion kneels down, plucking an emble off of one of the kidnappers. He frowns.

"What.. is this?"

Arthur approaches and his ears pin back.

The emblem seemed to be golden, but it was far too yellow and orange. Carved into it was something clearly.. not a cat. It’s muzzle was too long, and it maw was wide open. It was standing on four legs, fur bristled.

".. terrifying." Arthur whispers, tail bristling.

Dolion pockets it before sheathing the sword he held. "Lets get going. Valiant's going to what to know what happened."

"Do you think she'll be upset?" Arthur frowns as the two begins to walk. "That we just killed them?"

"No." Dolion answers matter of factly. "You know she won't."

He nods softly, and his tail gently wraps around Dolion's. He smiles as his partner's does the same.

○●○

He kneeled before the queen, wrists bound behind his back. Commander Valiant held the tip of her sword to his neck, but her face was conflicted. Arthur stood by the queen's throne as Queen Melody looked down with a slight frown.

"You were desprate." The queen of Luminos finally spoke. "You wouldn't have taken King Umbra's bounty if you weren't."

It was silent before he spoke. ".. You're right. We're all desprate." He laughed coarsely. "I thought that, 'hey, here's a chance to get out of this hellhole'."

He hung his head more. "And, even if I fail, I'll die. I won't have to stay there anymore."

Valiant's eyes had softened the smallest bit. "Who did you work for?" The commander still demanded.

".. the group has no name." He admitted. "But, sometimes, we go by the Teeth in the Dark. It's what the Cats in Devos call us."

".. what is your name?"

"Cozbi."

Queen Melody frowned. "If Arthur hadn't stopped you from putting that poison in my tea, would you have still done it?" An unknown emotion crossed her eyes. "Or.. would you have drank it yourself?"

The silence hung in the air. His answer was apparent.

"Valiant, step away from him."

The commander nodded, and she took those steps back. The heels of the queen clacked as she descended the stairs. Soon, she kneeled in front of her would-be murderer.

Gently, she cupped his face to make him look at her. Gently, she brushed a finger over his fur.

"Be one of my retainers," she offered, "and I will offer you protection from Umbra. This incident will never be spoken of. I'll make it seem like you disappeared." Queen Melody smiled gently. "You'll be safe here."

His throat had felt so dry, that day.

And yet the tears had fallen when he said yes.

○●○

Cozbi. "A liar, sliding away."

Dolion. “to deceive,” “to lure craftily,” “to use deceit” or “to lie.”

To outsiders, the name seemed almost identical. But not to Dolion. This new name was not only his way to atone, but to till do what he did best. Lie, to keep himself safe. But now, it extended to those he cared about.

Entering the palace, he merely smiles as Nimbus and Ambrosia rush up, with the Songbird taking the now sleeping kit from Arthur's arms.

"They're getting bold." Queen Melody remarks as she approaches. From behind, the familiar sound of metal clanking as Commander Valiant approaches is also heard. "This is the first time they did a kidnapping."

"That, and someone from Devos did it." Dolion narrows his eyes.

"Devos?" Nimbus's fur bristles. "How do you know?"

"Their accents, and.. this." He takes the emblem out of his pocket. From the way it was made, it was clearly from Devos. There craftsmanship was undeniable.

But the animal..

"That's some sort of canine." Nimbus frowns.

"Canine? Like those strange animals SMG8 sometimes has?" Valiant tilts her head

The Avatar nods. "Sort of, yeah. But it's really hard to tell what this one is.."

"Regardless, I'll bring this up with King Damien next time I see him." Melody sighs. "I thought the cats of Devos were happy under his rule! By Bliss, I'm going to get gray furs at this rate.."

Dolion frowns as he looks at the emblem.

He didn't know why.. but he had a sinking feeling that this wouldn't be the last time they'd see this symbol.

#oc: tama #oc: dolion #oc: arthur #zephyr muse of wind #oc: commander valiant #oc: queen melody #avatar: nimbus #tw blood #tw injury #tw death #fanfiction: my writing!#!posts!

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green-ajah-aes-sedai · 1 year

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Prince Viserys Targaryen II

"Viserys the Valiant"

Rider of Rhaelys "the Sea Queen"

For @ghostlydarknight

#viserys targaryen ii #viserys the valiant #rhaelys #rhaelys the sea queen #house targaryen #house cole #my ocs tag #au edits #asoiaf edits #asoiaf moodboard #got edits #got moodboard #hotd edits #hotd moodboard #my edits

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electrictorch · 2 years

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The High King and the little Queen

The High King had been working hard the last few years, but this week has been torture. He haven't had breakfast in Aslan knows how long, his siblings have witnessed his absence to family dinners more than once, and paperwork has restrained even his training sessions. That explains the sore muscles, he realizes.

Amidst the endless scattering of papers, he sighs. When reaching out for more ink, he notices his youngest sister, peeking her head behind the tall, wooden dors.

'Lucy?'

'Can I come in?' she asks.

'Come.'

Peter distances the chair from the desk and stretches out. The sun has already set, and from the window he can only see a dark sky, spotted in white.

'What's the matter?' he asks. 'You should be sleeping by now.'

'I brought you tea.' She puts a mug on his desk.

'Tea? What about my coffee?'

'It's too late to drink coffee. You should be sleeping, too.'

She has grown taller these years, more beautiful. Still preferred not to pick her hair up and walked around Cair Paravel barefoot. Her eyes remind Peter of mum, but the spirit inside her is freer, child-like, innocent. He wonders what mum was like in her youth. He wonders how father would be doing, if the war ended. If he came back. He wonders if his parents would miss them, and if his siblings even remember them.

'I have work to do,' he says. His stomach shrinks at the thought of going back to paperwork.

She slides the mug closer to him. 'The sun will rise tomorrow.' She rests her hands on the desk and smiles. A child-like smile that hasn't changed.

She is right. The sun always rises tomorrow. No matter how hard you wish it to stay back longer, it rises. That is the problem. Things have to be in place before everyone wakes up because, otherwise, Narnia would not be what he wanted it to be for his siblings. It wouldn't be home to Lucy.

'If the sun goes to sleep, so should the High King.' He smiles, she grins. 'Pretty please.'

He leaves the fountain pen and gets the papers together. She lifts the mug to him and he takes a sip of the tea. Home. He can't say no to his little sister.

Part 2 here.

#a little piece with my babies because there are not enough with these two bonding #peter pevensie #lucy pevensie #narnia #chronicles of narnia #fanfic #high king peter #queen lucy the valiant #fic writing #my writing

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dragonroses · 1 year

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a wisp in the wind

“My sister has a habit of wandering off. A habit that’s only become more reckless since she discovered Narnia. But, this time, I fear she may have strayed too far from home.”

#narnia edit #narnia fic #susan pevensie #lucy pevensie #mr tumnus #peter pevensie #edmund pevensie #queen susan the gentle #queen lucy the valiant #ao3 #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #my fics #writing #moodboard #oneshot #fanfiction

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caddy-crystal-queen · 2 years

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For Caddy: What is your fondest memory?

She sighs softly at the question. "Two come to mind. I remember faintly getting to help my grandmother in the garden. She could make any plant grow, and she would teach me about the various plants and flowers she had" Cadence looked thoughtful a moment, "the other was Halloween night of 2008. My first kind of "date". I was the queen of the fall fairies and my beloved was the Gentleman Death. Our friends had decked out an entire little gazebo for just us two, decorated with purple, orange and yellow fairy lights that twinkled...gods it was so beautiful...it was the best night of my life, bar none".

#reflections of a queen #answered ask #anonymous ask #gardening #dancing #Halloween #first love #missing my Prince Valiant

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tessxblxckthorn · 2 years

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The Chronicles Of Narnia: Prince Caspian (2008) directed by Andrew Adamson

#recommandations #narnia #Prince caspian #pevensies #Ben Barnes #lucy pevensie #queen lucy the valiant #edmund pevensie #king edmund the just #susan pevensie #queen susan the gentle #peter pevensie #high king peter the magnificent #georgie henley #skandar keynes #anna popplewell #william moseley #my gifs

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pluggedintosaverockandroll · 2 years

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Kaye Recommends: 5 underrated books

Hey everyone and welcome back to Kaye Recommends. The series on my blog in which I (Kaye) recommend you things.

Today in Kaye Recommends: 5 underrated* books *Books with less than 10,000 ratings on Goodreads

I will recommend you five (5) of my favorite underrated books. The links will take you to the book’s Goodreads page.

Gearbreakers by Zoe Hana Mikuta

YA, Queer, Dystopia, Cyberpunk

Two girls on opposite sides of a war discover they’re fighting for the same purpose: taking down Godolia's tyrannical rule.

"We went past praying to deities and started to build them instead"

Pacific Rim vibes

Curse of the Specter Queen by Jenny Elder Moke

YA, Historical Fiction, Mythology

Set in the 1920s. Samantha Knox goes on an archaeological adventure to stop the Celtic goddess of vengeance and death from rising.

"Sometimes to preserve the past, you have to change the future"

Indiana Jones vibes

Home Sick Pilots, Vol. 1: Teenage Haunts by by Dan Watters and Caspar Wijngaard

Comic, Horror, Paranormal

In the summer of 1994, a haunted house walks across California. Inside is Ami, lead-singer of a high school punk band - who's been missing for weeks.

Cool art and pretty colors

The Valiant by Lesley Livingston

YA, Historical Fiction

A Celtic princess is captured and sold to a training school for female gladiators.

The Clockwork Scarab by Colleen Gleason

YA, Historical Fiction, Steampunk,Mystery

The sister of Bram Stoker and the niece of Sherlock Holmes investigate the disappearance of two society girls in steampunk Victorian London.

That was it for today. Thanks for reading. If you have any suggestions for a future Kaye Recommends please let me know.

Bye y’all! (stay hydrated)

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always-a-king-or-queen · 6 months

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C 👏 S 👏 LEWIS 👏 WAS 👏 NOT 👏 MISOGYNISTIC

IM SO SICK OF THIS TAKE

“But he said girls shouldn’t fight in battles—" No, actually. What he said was “Battles are ugly when women fight.” Which literally translates to “in a war where women are required to fight to help win it, it means the war itself is really bad.” And this literally just means that the war has gotten so bad that women have to fight, not that women shouldn’t fight. Just that they shouldn’t be forced to. Anyway, remember Lucy?? Lucy who rode to battle in The Horse and His Boy?? Lucy who fought as an archer?? “But Susan didn’t—" Yeah. Because she didn’t want to. No one was forcing her not to fight. She had free will to fight or to not fight, and she chose not to because she didn’t want to, not because a man made her stay home.

“He punished Susan for growing up—" S i g h. This is the one I see the most often. “He did Susan dirty” “he made her suffer because she liked lipstick” “etc etc blah blah blah” First of all Narnia is a children’s book series. For CS Lewis to delve into why Susan forgot Narnia, talk about her dealing with the death of her entire family, discuss her grief, and write about her eventual return to Narnia (more on that in a second), it would’ve made for a pretty dark and heavy children’s book, and Lewis said that he didn’t think that was something he wanted to write. But he also encouraged people to finish Susan’s story themselves, and said she might eventually make her own way back to Narnia. Not only this, but Susan’s name means lily, and the waters around Aslan’s country are covered in lilies. Coincidence? I think not. I think it symbolizes she was going to go back. (Especially considering I think Lewis was very careful in choosing each of the Pevensie’s names, since they all relate to their character).

Also, Lewis did not condemn Susan simply for growing up and liking makeup and clothing and boys. If so why would he have written about Aravis and Shasta/Cor, or Caspian and Liliandil? Why would he have written about Susan and Lucy being beautiful and having many suitors? So no, he wasn’t condemning her for that, and in fact he wasn’t condemning her at all. It’s extremely probable that her family’s death would have brought Susan back to her senses. Because here’s the thing: she forgot. She threw herself so much into the world and approval and convinced herself that her life as a queen and her acquaintance with Aslan was all a silly game they played as children, that it wasn’t real. But, she very well could remember again, and I 1000% believe she did.

“All his female characters were weak and did nothing—" My friend. Lucy Pevensie was a female. She discovered Narnia. It was because of her. Her siblings would never have found it without her. Lucy is one of THE most important characters in the entire series. And her title? The Valiant. Lucy’s very title as queen denoted her bravery and fortitude without one even knowing her. As for Susan, she was not any weaker for being “The Gentle.” I would say gentleness is honestly one of the strongest traits a person can have, because it takes a lot to live and be gentle. Also remember Aravis? A major character in The Horse and His Boy and future wife of Shasta, Aravis literally nearly killed herself to escape an arranged marriage. She was not someone to be dictated to; she made her own choices and escaped rather than submitting. And in the end, she’s still fiery, just a little more humble and with less of a chip on her shoulder. Then there’s Polly, who is the more logical person in The Magician’s Nephew and tries to stop Digory from ringing the bell that wakes the White Witch. A boy causes her to awaken, not a girl. It was Digory’s fault she woke up, not Polly’s!!

Also, Peter and Edmund do not ignore their sisters because they’re girls. They listen to what they have to say and speak to them as equals. They don’t forbid them from fighting; Susan chooses not to, but Lucy goes straight into the heart of the battle with them! So don’t even say Lewis made his female characters weak. They were the backbone of much of the series and without them much of the plot would never have happened!!

So don’t you ever say to me that CS Lewis was misogynistic because it’s the furthest thing from the truth

#I REALIZED I ACCIDENTALLY TYPED JILL INSTEAD OF POLLY #IF YOU SEE THAT PRETEND IT SAYS POLLY #cs Lewis #narnia #lucy pevensie #susan pevensie #Polly plummer #aravis tarkheena #the chronicles of narnia #I could’ve mentioned Jill but it was long enough #ramblings from the void

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eratosmusings · 1 month

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Loyalty (I)

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!reader

summary: the king decides it's time for his brother to produce more targaryen heirs. who better than another hightower daughter to carry them?

warnings: adults only, all characters over 18, dubcon smut in later chapters, arranged marriage, abortion allusion (moon tea), coercion, terrible parenting

word count: 2.3k

dividers

“I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t allow it?” Viserys asks with an air of frigid humor. “Who are you to deny your king what he has commanded?”

Otto seethes, decades of practiced court manners faltering under the demand. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but she is my daughter. I will not have her married off to a man whose love of violence and debauchery trails him like a shadow. She is a pious child. To marry her to Daemon is—“

“A blessing. She will marry a prince and a valiant knight.”

The other men at the table are silent. They'd expected talks of reinforcing the kingdom's claim on the Stepstones or of quelling rumors that had cropped up of Daemon corrupting his young niece in a brothel a year prior. The king commanding a marriage between Otto Hightower's youngest daughter—his only child from a tragically short second marriage—is an unpleasant surprise.

"He is already married."

Viserys gives a taut smile. "Daemon's marriage to Lady Royce has been annulled. By royal decree and with the blessing of the High Septon. It is in the best interest of Westeros that the Targaryen line remains vast and strong and it has been decided your daughter will do what Lady Royce did not."

Otto's face falls in disbelief. He's heard nothing of it. This had been set up to corner him. "She is a child."

"She is nearly four years older than Alicent was when we wed. The queen has proven your daughters are strong vessels for Targaryen children."

"It is different. She is different. She is not as strong as Alicent."

The king shakes his head. "I will hear no more discussion of this. She will wed Daemon and this feud between the two of you shall end once and for all.”

Alicent’s touch is feather-light as she takes hold of your hands. Her eyes wander across your form, taking in the exquisite ivory gown. Its crimson embroidered dragon along the skirt a special request from your soon-to-be husband. “You look beautiful, sister.”

You can say nothing to your half-sister, barely able to retain the tears brimming in silence. A fortnight was all you’d been given to prepare to wed the vilest creature in Westeros. Daemon Targaryen was all you could have ever hoped against in a husband.

Your father stands tall behind Alicent, head held high. "The image of the Maiden herself."

A choked sob escapes you at his words. This marriage was punishment by the Seven for every sin you'd ever committed. For the impure thoughts you'd had of knights. The white lies you'd spoken to save yourself the wrath of Septa Agerrea. The gambling you'd participated in when you’d bet your favorite embroidery needle in a game of cards with Lysa Tyrell. Had you only followed the Faith more faithfully, this torture would not be yours to endure.

“I believe it is time to take your place with the king, Your Grace,” your father says.

Alicent hesitates with glossy eyes. She draws you into a tight hug and whispers an apology and how much she loves you. You have the faintest memory of her wedding to the king a few years before. The happy sister who’d spent hours braiding your hair when the handmaidens failed to do it properly disappeared into a hardened queen round with child seemingly overnight. The smiles and giggles you’d shared daily turned to fond, distant memories. She withdraws a moment later, wiping at her face.

When the door shuts your father moves behind you. You watch in the ornate mirror as he drapes the green maidencloak of House Hightower across your shoulders. The new burden's weight feels uncomfortable.

He returns to stand before you, his expression sorrowful. "I am sorry, my sweet child, for this atrocity. You deserve far better.”

“I could have saved myself this fate had I been less worldly and become a Septa.” Your palm wipes at the tear that had fallen.

He cups your cheek. “Perhaps. But we cannot lament on what we could have done. Indeed we must focus instead on your duty to the realm.”

“To be a good wife,” you state. It was what he had raised you to be.

“No, sweet child,” he says softly, “I fear that I must ask something far more difficult of you. For your duty to the realm must supplant your duty in marriage.”

The wedding takes place in a haze. You tremble, stumble over words, and can not meet the eyes of your now husband nor the Septon. Soon you would betray them both.

For the good of the realm.

You do not eat or drink through the feast. You barely speak. You think you might have danced, though all you remember of it is a blurring background and an embroidered dragon that matches your own. It had stared at you accusingly.

“Shall I call for the bedding ceremony to begin, brother?” the king slurs loudly. If there had been anything in your stomach, it surely would have come out now. It was one vile thought to have him touch you. But to have other men undress you as well?

Your hand is pulled from your lap, enclosed in another twice its size, callous and rough against your skin. For the first time that day you look at your husband. You’d never seen him this close. The lavender gaze cannot have been of this world. It’s too vibrant, too knowing. “Too many of the men here have wandering hands. I’d hate to spill blood on such a blessed day.” His lips brush against your hand. “My sweet wife should not have to endure such tragedy.”

The king responds dismissively. Something of disappointing guests, but to do as he pleases. Daemon takes it as a dismissal and pulls you from your seat. The last thing you hear is the call from many about bloody sheets.

Perhaps the Mother has decided to take mercy on you. For you cannot breathe as the doors to the prince’s chambers close behind you. Death can take you before he can.

He stands in front of the fire, pouring some drink into a goblet. The flickering orange light suits him. Like he was born for flames. “You must relax. There is nothing for you to fear from me.” A lie. There was much to fear from him.

A booming knock echoes through the room.

“Enter.”

Two servants carrying trays of bread and fruit enter. Then they are gone just as swiftly. The door closes once more.

“You must eat,” he says, taking your hand once more and leading you to a small table. You sit and a piece of bread is offered. You take it and, after an expectant nod, take a bite. It’s still warm and soft. You take another bite. And another.

It’s gone quickly. Too quickly for a lady. A bowl of berries clatters softly in front of you. You pick at it slower, though not as slowly as you’d like. They are sweet. Perfectly ripe.

“Would you like some wine?”

Despite the juice of berries coating your tongue, your mouth is dry as you speak for the first time since you’d said your vows. “Yes, please.”

“So well mannered.” A smug smile spreads across his face as he raises his goblet and sips. He reaches over and sets it down beside the half-empty bowl. “I forgot to have them retrieve another cup.”

The crimson red liquid ripples. A challenge.

“You are very gracious, my Prince. Thank you.” You lift it by the stem and drink. It was stronger than you’ve ever had before. The taste takes you aback, coughing as it soaks your tongue. Hastily you set the cup back down.

"I take it you don't often indulge in Dornish Reds."

"No, never."

His head cocks to the side appraisingly. "I suppose such a thing has never been offered to you before. Not within the confines of your father's authority. He has given you a rather sheltered life."

A prickly heat seeps up your neck. "My father did not confine or shelter me. He has only ever guided me to live as virtuously as the Seven wished for all their children to live.”

“How very kind of him to not let you endure the same vices as himself.”

You blink, his words sinking in. The implication that your father is a drunkard stings. He isn't, but you don’t fight his accusation. Selfishly, you do not wish to defend your father. Instead, you pluck a berry from the bowl, hoping to end the conversation entirely.

"Are the berries quite good?"

You nod, not wanting to speak again.

"Might I have one?" When you go to pick up the bowl, he stops you. "Pick me out the best one."

The best one? The bowl is still half full. Which berry was the best? Would he be disappointed if you picked one he did not like? Or one that was not ripe enough? Not sweet enough? What would he do to you if he disliked the one you chose?

It was the largest blackberry that you finally settle on, prepared to hear how terrible the choice had been as you hold it out to him. He doesn't simply take it. He leans over the table, taking the berry and your fingers into his mouth.

The act is heinously intimate. It leaves you frozen and breathless as he pulls away, his eyes alight in devious amusement. "I'm not sure which taste I prefer. The berry's or your's."

Fire spreads across your cheeks. You flinch away, embarrassed. In the escape effort your arm knocks against the goblet. To your horror, it clatters against the table. The liquid sloshes across your front, staining the white gown.

The crimson seems to seep from your womb, condemning you for something you had yet to do. You paw at the stain as the chair clatters on the ground from the force with which you'd stood.

Tears brim in your eyes as it continues to spread.

“There's no need to fret. It is only wine.”

“I have desecrated it.” The tears have not stopped falling and your hands have not stopped scrubbing at it with your fingers. “The stain will never come out.”

“It is only a dress.” He cups your face, encouraging you to meet his gaze. It searches for some understanding.

He would never understand.

“I am so sorry, my Prince.”

He shushes you softly and places a kiss against your forehead. This was the monster? The vile, unholy beast whose every action was an affront to the Seven? This man who had shown you nothing but kindness?

You cry harder.

He is not the monster.

You are.

You aren’t sure how long you cry. But he holds you through it all. He speaks little more than a few consoling phrases, but it is more than you deserve. His presence, arms around you, kisses on your hair. All of it more than you deserve.

You’re finally calm, only left with sniffles, when he says, “We should get the dress to the washwomen before the stain sets.” What good would it do? The stain can never be removed from your soul. Still you agree and turn for him.

His fingers are swift as they loosen the strings of your bodice. Practiced. He is practiced. Behind closed doors you assume, but there were numerous tales of his public debauchery. It has been gossiped that he prefers the thrill of open affairs and touches of multiple women.

“Why did you refuse the bedding ceremony?”

He pauses. “Did you wish to have one?”

“No,” you say quickly. “But given your…tendencies I…I thought…” A quiet hum has your words trailing off.

His work continues, though slower. “You are not a whore in a brothel.”

“Neither is your niece and yet...”

Air blows across your neck as he chuckles. “Has my pious little wife been gossiping about the chastity of the Crowned Princess?”

Your lungs seize at the realization of what you’d just said. It’s treason. Questioning her virtue is treason.

“Relax, jaesa.” His hands slip between the shoulders of your shift and the loose gown, pushing the sleeves down your arms. “I took you under my protection today. You may speak freely to me.”

“I,” you hesitate, freeing your hands of the garment, “I had heard that a year ago you snuck the princess from the castle and—“

He bunches the fabric at your waist and tugs. “Had my way with her in some brothel?”

“Yes.”

The gown struggles for a moment, snagging on the curve of your behind. Another tug and it is a pile around your feet. “My niece wished to see King’s Landing. I showed her and returned her to the castle, still a fair maiden like yourself.”

“Of course.”

“You doubt me?”

“No, my Prince.”

"It would do a great disservice to our union to begin it with lies." He prompts you to turn and hesitantly you do. He is shorter than your father, yet his presence is as commanding. More so. It makes you aware of how thin the fabrics of your shifts were when his gaze drifts down. "My niece's heart belongs elsewhere. As do my desires."

His touch is gentle as he cups your cheek, but the feeling's it stirred are rough and uncertain. Bordering on traitorous.

“Shall I call a servant to fetch the dress?” The words waver. You wonder if they’re comprehensible at all.

They are, it seems as he rejects the offer and slips out the door himself with the dress. The reprieve from his watchful, astute eye is welcome. You fall to your knees at the edge of the bed and recite the prayer your father had taught you minutes before you’d been led down the aisle.

Warrior, give me strength for what I must do. It is for the good of the realm.

Mother, forgive me for what I must do. It is for the good of your faithful servants.

Stranger, lead my children to peace. It is for the good of their innocent souls.

a/n: all your thoughts and reblogs are appreciated 🌺

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