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#red bird
somberous · 5 months
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Mary Oliver, from “Summer Morning.” [ID in alt text]
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flowerytale · 11 months
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Mary Oliver, from "We Should Be Well Prepared", Red Bird
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kaalbela · 7 months
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- Mary Oliver⁩, "Invitation".
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hauntedbystorytelling · 4 months
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Gertrude Käsebier :: Zitkala Sa, Sioux Indian and activist, ca. 1898 | src NMAH
view more Zitkala-sa by Käsebier on wordPress
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steinntroll · 3 months
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Phoenix fantasy art doll
Sold
Resin, fabric fur, wire+plastic armature, feathers, primer, acrylic paint, varnish. Posable neck has plastic ball-and-socket armature inside and can be posed. Tail and wings are also posable and contain wire armature inside.
Size: 100 cm total length from beak to tip of tail
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liren072 · 2 months
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TFP Starscream.... But with hints of G1
Because why not?
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(And with fangs. Yes)
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franollie · 1 month
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would you believe me if i told you i go to art school
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petaltexturedskies · 5 months
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Mary Oliver, from “Red Bird”
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oliviarosaline · 1 month
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Northern Cardinal
Cardinalis cardinalis
Male
Shining in all his glory.
March 17th, 2024
Jefferson County, Missouri, USA
Olivia R. Myers
@oliviarosaline
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maxyvert · 3 months
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🐦 Bird Prince, 2019 🐦 Reposting an older drawing bc I still like it :)
Ko-fi - Inprnt - Patreon  
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brooklynbridgebirds · 21 days
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Northern Cardinal Brooklyn Bridge Park, Pier 6
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barbieaemond · 4 months
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Red Bird • I
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Pairing(s): Aemond Targaryen x Alysanne Hightower oc, Daeron Targaryen x Alysanne Hightower (minor)
Word count: 4.8k
MASTERLIST
taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @arcielee @chompchompluke @bunbunbl0gs
(English is not my first language)
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Red Bird.
That's how her father called her. For that crimson shade in her hair. For the old tale.
He did it when she made him laugh. He did it to comfort her. He did it on his dying bed. He called for her. But she was far, far away, locked up in a gilded cage of redstone bricks. Dreadful winged beasts to guard it.
Lord Hobert Hightower was a good man. Loyal and dutiful. He lived to serve his House and he did, ruling the most ancient city of the Realm with a firm hand but a kind heart. He had a gentler soul than his younger brother.
“Otto began to pull the strings from our mother’s womb. That’s why he was born before time.”
Joke or not, Otto was a born politician. And his older brother was proud of the stature with which Otto had incensed their noble House. No matter the cost. But King’s Landing had wrapped its coils around Otto and Hobert had watched its poison spread behind his brother's eyes, making him wary, cold, calculating. Losing his lady wife had only made things worse.
At least on that, Hobert could understand.
He had lost his Lynesse two days after Alysanne’s third nameday. She had given him three healthy sons and one daughter, but she had never recovered from her last birth. And the Lord had mourned her for many moons.
Alysanne Hightower was raised by a Septa. With each passing year, despite the strictness dictated by the clergy woman, Lord Hobert caught glimpses of his lady wife through Alysanne’s stubbornness, through the wrinkle between her eyebrows when she disagreed on something, through her loud laugh.
She was tough to yield.
He should have scolded her for that, but he hadn’t.
Ormund, his first son who was almost fifteen years older than Alysanne, periodically accused his father of spoiling her. But the Lord didn’t care, for he knew. He knew that sooner or later, Alysanne had to put aside her beloved books, forsake her fantasies, her little trips outside the castle. He knew he ought to sell her to the highest bidder.
Thus, he let her do as she liked. And she did.
She knew that in the Age of Heroes, the Ravenry of the Citadel was supposedly the stronghold of a pirate lord who robbed ships as they came down the Honeywine.
She knew that during summer nights, the cobbled streets and stone bridges below the castle would smell of moonbloom and nightshade.
She knew you would find melons and peaches in Ragpicker's Wynd. But the Thieves Market was the only one to sell pomegranates.
And if she closed her eyes, she could trace the way the beacon on the mighty Hightower would reflect on the water of the Whispering Sound, guiding the ships to port.
Oldtown.
A place she made her own, to the point it had become mental, intimate, conjurable by her fingertips wherever in the world she would be. And she knew her future would eventually led her somewhere else.
She stored everything in her mind as another library she could reach anytime she wished. She drank the words and painted thousands of images in her mind, her memories like colorful brushes.
Her father kept saying she got used to lock herself into it, amongst the dark and dusty shelves; that it was a childish habit, not properly suited for a lady, a Hightower lady at that.
But she didn't listen, she never did, to the point that once, her lord father had to forbid her any access to the libraries and no further trips downtown.
"I don't understand." she said pleading that night. Large tears were trapped into her big blue-green eyes, making them red and blurry "What wrong am I doing? What's the harm in reading?"
Her Lord Father had shaken his head, keeping his gaze fixed on the dinner plate.
"Nothing wrong with reading, red bird. But you're neglecting your other duties. Septa Brenna tells me you missed your needle work twice last week."
Alysanne took the advantage of her father not looking to roll her eyes. A tear escaped running down her cheek. "I was just late. I thought she already left my chambers."
"And why were you late?"
"Because I didn't want to go."
Lord Hobert leveled her with a reprimanding stare but she simply shrugged. "I'm awful at needle work. I’ve accepted it. The Gods accepted it. Why can't you and Septa Brenna do the same?"
"All that reading is a waste of time." her oldest brother peeped in.
It was no secret that the first and last child of Lord Hobert had little love for each other. Ormund was to inherit Oldtown, everything was due to him. No one would ever question his word, even the dullest one. She ought to fight to even state her own.
Alysanne looked at him, sitting proudly beside their father, content for having done absolutely nothing except spending the morning sparring with a sword, blabbing about hunting or jousting, or some other physical activity for which her ears were still too young to hear.
Out of pure spite, she raised her chin and faked genuine curiosity. "Can you even read, brother?"
Ormund only glared at her. "That mouth of yours will get you hurt one day, little sister. No Lord of the Realm would want a woman beside him who doesn’t know when to shut her mouth."
"Ormund, that is enough." their Lord father said, and that was the end of it.
But they used to go on the matter on regular basis until Alysanne had to cave in. She began to attend her needle work again, gaining the scowls of Septa Brenna at her awful embroidery and her father's permission to reaccess the libraries.
Thus, she went back to burying her nose in books and pages so old they seemed like dead leaves between her fingers.
Two moons after her twelveth name day, she was reading about the legendary Symeon Star-Eyes in a book she had secretly stolen or, how she liked to phrase it, accidentally borrowed.
Maesters didn't allow their precious books to be borrowed from the ancient libraries of Oldtown, not even by the only daughter of Lord Hobert Hightower.
"You have to return that."
Alysanne didn’t bother to answer, keeping her eyes focused on the book but she did raise her head to scowl at her Septa when the woman pulled her dark auburn hair a little too much.
"That was intentional."
"So was your ignoring my statement."
Alysanne and Septa Brenna didn’t exactly see eye to eye on many levels but in time they had managed to find some ground. The Septa was a rigid woman, assigned to educate Alysanne as a proper Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, a perfect Lady Hightower. Loyal and dutiful.
Too bad Alysanne had little care for duty.
She was Lord Hightower's only daughter, the last of her siblings, three brothers who had abundantly fulfilled their highest duty, carrying on the Hightower name. She was the spare and a woman, her destiny was to leave Old Town and her name behind and marry into another. She had even come to accept it in a way, as long as they leave her alone and let her do what she liked. She felt it as a blurry thing, way far in the horizon and in the future.
Until it wasn’t.
"What are you doing still up?"
Her father’s voice finally managed to make her look up from the book. Through the vanity mirror, she saw the man on the threshold, a slight dip between his eyebrows.
"Father, you know I stay up till late."
Lord Hightower sighed and closed the door. Approaching his daughter at the vanity table, he tied his hands behind his back and said "We should do something about these…rebellious attitudes of yours."
Alysanne frowned, watching his father in the mirror, his tense shoulders. He smiled briefly and put one hand on his daughter’s shoulder.
"Tomorrow is going to be a long day, daughter. You should take some rest."
"Tomorrow? Why? What is happening tomorrow?"
"The Queen will be visiting her ancestors’ home. Along with her brother, Ser Gwayne and her youngest son, Prince Daeron. I have accepted the Queen’s request to make him my cupbearer and my squire. Naturally, I said yes. How could I refuse? A Targaryen prince, here? It’s an honor."
Alysanne turned on her chair to look at this father. Eager anticipation blowing her eyes wide.
"Do you know if he will bring his dragon? I’ve read that dragons and dragon riders share a fierce and mysterious bond! Some texts claim it’s magic, from Old Valyria! Can you believe it, Father? A dragon flying over Old Town!
Lord Hightower chuckled and helped his daughter rise from her chair, escorting her to bed.
"We’ll see, red bird. Now, do as your father says and go to bed."
Alysanne sighed and went under the covers. Before leaving, Lord Hobert turned on the doorstep and looked at Septa Brenna, the wrinkles on his forehead seemed suddenly sharper.
"Make sure she’s wearing her finest dress tomorrow."
"As you wish, my lord."
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When she was escorted to the hall, she felt like she was going to pass out.
Never, not once, Septa Brenna pulled the laces of her corset so tight like that morning. She had looked into the mirror and thought the dress was beautiful, yes, but she felt a bit uneasy. It was different from what she usually wore. More womanly. Even more so when Septa Brenna lowered the green straps, fully exposing her young shoulders.
She entered the room and felt many pairs of eyes on her, all the pleasant talking instantly ceased. Her father, her brothers and their ladies, they were all there. So was the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
Alysanne looked at the woman, a young woman, clad in green, her dark hair braided and tied atop her head with threads of gold, shining brightly as the Queen inclined her head to take a long and better look at Alysanne.
The young lady almost startled when she heard Septa Brenna hissing on her neck. "Seven Hells, child, what are you doing? Go pay your respects to the Queen."
And she did. She approached the Queen and bent her knees.
"My Queen. It is the highest of honors to meet you."
Silence followed for almost a minute, then the Queen smiled warmly and took Alysanne by the hands. "My dearest cousin, how much you have grown. It warms my heart to see what a lovely lady you’ve become."
Alysanne managed a smile, looking down at the Queen’s hands holding her own. She couldn’t but notice her nails, all red and chapped.
"You honor me, your Grace. It is a delight, for all of us, to have you here, back in your ancient and noble house."
Queen Alicent smiled again, with distant nostalgia, even sadness. Whatever it was, it didn’t reach her eyes. Then she turned, beckoning someone to come forward.
"This is my youngest son. Prince Daeron Targaryen. Son, meet Lady Alysanne Hightower."
A young boy, maybe a year younger that her, stepped forward, one arm behind his back and the other outstretched to her, palm upwards.
"My lady." he said politely, waiting for her hand.
"My prince."
Once he kissed her hand, he straightened his back and smiled. Although she was taller than him, Alysanne was slightly taken aback by his appearance.
She had never seen a Targaryen before, save for book illustrations, and the princeling before her looked the spitting image of Old Valyria: shining curls of silver falling around a delicate face and two violet eyes. He wore black, but the cloak resting on his left shoulder was green, tied to his doublet by a three-headed silver dragon.
Stepping back, the Queen and Lord Hobert shared a long look.
"I think it’s best to retire for a while before the banquet."
"Of course, your Grace. I have had your old chambers prepared for you."
Alicent smiled and took her leave with a nod. When she was out, Alysanne saw the lady wives of her brothers do the same, so she went for the door as well.
"Not you, sister." Ormund said, and she stopped.
She was standing in front of Septa Brenna, who gave her a small sympathetic smile, a genuine one, before leaving the room.
Alysanne turned on her heels to face her family and clasped her hands on her green gown. A dreadful feeling began twisting her stomach.
For a moment no one talked, but then her father stepped forward and grabbed her softly by the shoulders. "My daughter. My sweet only daughter. You’re young but I dim you wise enough to understand the consequences of the Queen coming here."
Alysanne swallowed and lowered her gaze, feeling that blurry thing suddenly becoming limpid, and then blinding.
"I—"
"It’s true that the Queen wanted to escort her son here. She cares deeply about her children. But that is not the only reason."
"She wanted to see me."
"Indeed. And you know why?"
The young lady looked up in her father’s eyes and saw her future, arranged and sealed like one of the ships leaving port. Duty was calling.
"I am to marry the prince."
Lord Hightower only nodded. Then he smiled, kindly, taking her daughter’s face between his hands.
“You need not worry, red bird. We will stand by you, always. We will light your way."
Her lip started to quiver but she refused to cry, not in front of her brothers. "Father, I beg you. I will do as you command, just…don’t make me leave Oldtown so soon."
At this, Lord Hobert stopped looking at her and withdrew his hands.
"You must understand, Alysanne. There will be preparations to be done."
"What kind of preparations? Can’t they be done here?"
"Preparations regarding your education." her oldest brother intruded again.
Alysanne turned her head to look at him, a grimace twisting her mouth. "My education is perfectly fine, brother. I’m afraid the same cannot be said about yours."
"Meaning?"
"Enough." said Lord Hightower, but Ormund laughed and pointed a lazy finger at his sister.
"That is what I’m talking about. Your education is quite alright sister, it is your tongue that needs to be educated."
"I said enough!"
This time Lord Hobert almost yelled, shushing his bickering children. Then, with a loud sigh, he looked at his daughter and his tone became commanding, like it never was before.
"Prince Daeron will stay here until he becomes a knight. You will have the chance to stay close to your future husband and get to know him. A chance most ladies are not granted in the matter of arranged weddings. But when the time comes, as in when Queen Alicent decides so, you will leave Oldtown and take a place amongst Princess Helaena’s ladies in waiting, in order to learn and live the court.
"Father—"
"It’s an order, Alysanne!" the Lord snapped "You are not suited to marry a prince now. But you will be. Your brother is right. You are too willful. You can’t allow yourself to speak out of turn at the Red Keep. Not with my brother, the Hand, there. Not when the King’s health worsens day by day and the winds carry whispers of war. Not when the House of the Dragon stands more divided than ever. House Hightower must stay united. This is a duty we all must endure. You too, red bird."
Alysanne fixed her eyes on the floor and swallowed, tasting salt in the back of her throat. "As you command, Father."
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The banquet was a grand thing. Cooks outdid themselves with their best skills to honor and impress the Queen. She was given the best seat at the head of the table, with her son sitting next to her and Alysanne right beside him.
The young lady spent the afternoon in a bubble of doubt. She knew this day would eventually come, she had feared it, but now that it was actually happening, she didn’t know how she was supposed to feel. She wasn’t scared, but neither was she happy. What she knew for certain was that she didn’t want to leave Oldtown so soon.
And about the dragon prince, well…he had been polite, kind even, and it was indeed a great honor to marry a prince of the realm. But a kind smile was not enough to judge his character yet, and royal didn’t necessarily mean decent.
She was nervous when she sat at the table, but the more time she spent sitting beside him, the more she found that the prince was very pleasant company. He was young, yes, but it was clear he had a gentle soul and gentle manners. And this warmed her heart. Love in a marriage was rarer than a white raven, but so was a gentle husband. She found out he was fond of sweets, especially of cream, since she saw him set it on the left side of his plate, saving it for last. She smiled fondly at that and then she turned to him.
"My prince, if you don’t mind me asking, I was wondering if your Grace had brought your dragon here."
The young Prince set down the spoon and smiled eagerly. "I did, my lady. She’s flying somewhere but I can feel her close."
"You…you can feel her?"
"Yes. I can’t explain it...it is the strangest of feelings." he paused as to find the right words and said "Like…having a second heart, beating outside of you."
Alysanne smiled dreamily as if she was witnessing a mystery unraveling in front of her and the Prince smiled back.
"If you wish, I can take you to see her tomorrow."
Her heart jumped in her chest with trepidation.
"You are too kind, your Grace. I would love to be granted such a privilege."
Prince Daeron kept smiling and nodded. "Tomorrow, then."
When she went back to her chambers, the heavy grip on her insides had loosened. Septa Brenna began to untie the laces of her dress while Alysanne started to remove the hurting pins stuck into her auburn hair which, after so many hours, were positively piercing her skull.
She cast a glance at her Septa through the mirror, then set the hair pins down on the vanity table. "You knew, didn’t you?"
"I did." was all she said, keeping her gaze down and her hands busy on the laces.
Alysanne was quiet for some moments, then she turned forcing the older woman to stop her job.
"Will you come with me? To King’s Landing?"
Septa Brenna simply raised an eyebrow. "You silly child."
"Need I remind you you’re addressing a future Princess of the Realm?"
"I’m yet to see that day, princess." Then she sighed heavily, looking at the young lady with a patient motherly stare. “Do you really think I would let you go into that viper’s den all alone? Your head would be on a spike in less than a moon."
Alysanne couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. "That sounds a bit too dramatic. I am the Queen’s cousin."
"And you think that matters? History has taught us well that blood is more than often shed among kin, not strangers."
"You sure know how to lighten the mood."
Septa Brenna helped the young lady putting on her night gown and saw her grabbing a book left on the nightstand and going for the door.
"Where are you going?"
"I need another book." she said, matter-of-factly.
"A future princess of the realm does not wander around at night in dark libraries."
Alysanne paused on the door and turned her head, smiling like a fox.
"Well, I’m yet to see that day."
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She could reach the libraries blindfolded and walking backwards.
They were a bit ominous at night, the majestic walls swallowed by the shadows and yet Alysanne find them comfortable, found shelter in them. Thus, it was a bit surprising for her to see the light of a single candle moving between the massive shelves, a solitary ghost basking in the darkness. She was even more surprised to see that the ghost had taken the shape of Queen Alicent.
The woman was still wearing the green dress she wore at dinner, but her hair was loose, falling down her back in a cascade of dark curls. She stopped in front of a shelf and looked at the titles. Alysanne made her presence known by softly clearing her voice.
When Queen Alicent turned her head, Lady Alysanne bowed.
"My Queen. My apologies for intruding. I didn’t know you were here."
The woman smiled reassuringly. "No need for apology then."
She took a long look at her and noticed a book clutched to her cousin’s chest.
"Last time I was here, Maesters didn’t allow to borrow books from the libraries."
Alysanne widened her eyes like a deer caught in the middle of the wood but the Queen smiled again and said "Fret not, cousin. Your little felony is safe with me."
The young lady visibly relaxed and stood there for a moment, not knowing what to do or what to say to the most important woman of the realm and more than that, her future good mother.
"If you have any trouble finding sleep, I could fetch the maesters to bring you some lemon balm, your Grace."
"There’s no need, cousin. Thank you. I believe no kind of balm would soothe me enough to stop worrying about my children."
Alysanne slightly furrowed her brow. The Queen’s children were Princes of the Realm, living in the Red Keep, alongside the King. Why was she so worried to the point of not finding sleep?
"Sometimes books can soothe our nerves, take our mind somewhere else." she offered, glancing at the book shelf beside her "were you looking for something in particular?"
The Queen sighed clasping her hands on her womb. "I’m not sure. I’m looking for a gift. I wish to take a book to my son. My second son, Aemond." she gave Alysanne a knowing look before whispering "I know it’s not allowed to borrow books but surely the Maesters will close an eye for the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."
"Your little felony is safe with me, your grace." she promised, returning the same look. "Does he like to read? Prince Aemond?"
"Too much, I’d wager. Mostly history and philosophy. I would like to give him something more…entertaining. But I can’t make up my mind."
Alysanne glanced back at the book shelf but then she remembered what she was holding.
"Take this." she said, offering the book to the Queen.
Alicent took it and read the title. "The legendary chronicles of Symeon Star Eyes. I’ve heard about it."
"It tells the legend of the blind warrior."
"And you believe it to be just that? A legend?"
"I believe legends always hide an ounce of truth, your Grace."
The Queen nodded and cast another glance at the cover.
"Thank you." she said finally, clutching the book to her chest.
"I saw you talking with my son earlier at dinner."
"Uhm, y-yes. Yes, your grace. The Prince was very kind and patient enough to suffer through all my questions about his dragon."
"I trust your father has talked to you, did he not?"
"He did, your Grace."
Queen Alicent nodded again and remained silent, looking at the young lady before her with a distant look. She seemed almost absent, as if her body was there but her mind was lost somewhere, in a thought, or some memory.
Then she sighed and stepped closer to Alysanne. There was an urgent honesty in her brown eyes.
"Unfortunately, we live in a manly word. Made for men and ruled by men. Our choices are not ours to make. But you can trust me with this, cousin. My son will treat you kindly. He is just a boy but he has a sweet disposition. And who knows…in time you might even learn to love him."
"Did you?"
The question left the Queen utterly stunned.
Alysanne immediately realised she had gone too far.
Did you learn to love him, the King?
For a moment she thought Ormund was right. She seriously had to learn when to shut her mouth.
It was the silly curiosity of a young girl. For everyone, in Old Town and even outside of its borders, knew that it was Otto Hightower who had put the royal sigil on House Hightower.
But at what cost?
The very same clad in green with chapped nails and tired eyes. The same woman who once was just a girl, just like Alysanne, with dreams and hopes—what was she now? A Queen, yes. But the more Alysanne looked into her eyes, the more she realised how old she looked. How miserable she seemed.
"I’m deeply sorry, your Grace. It was completely unacceptable for to me to ask you—"
"It’s quite alright, cousin." said Alicent, smiling reassuringly. Then she took a step closer and simply said "Thank you for the book. I bid you goodnight."
Before the Queen could leave the library, Alysanne reached her at the door.
"Your Grace, uhm…before you leave, I was wondering…how long will I stay here before joining you in King’s Landing?"
"There are quite few years ahead of us before the wedding. Have you had your first blood?"
"Not yet, your grace." she embarrassingly admitted.
"Do not worry about it. There’s plenty of time."
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Young Prince Daeron kept his word.
The next morning, he summoned Lady Alysanne outside the castle and showed her Tessarion, or how she was called, the Blue Queen.
Much like her rider, Tessarion was still young, so her size was small. But small or not, Septa Brenna made her feelings about the creature quite clear while escorting Lady Alysanne.
"You hear me child? I’m not going anywhere near that thing." she warned, trying to keep up with the pace of her young lady. Alysanne laughed, eager to join the prince on the small hill where Tessarion had chosen to rest.
She widened her eyes when she saw her and stopped altogether. She couldn’t believe her own eyes. There was a dragon in front of her. A dragon in flesh. And she was beautiful, her wings and scales were dark blue, like cobalt, while her claws, crest, and belly took the shades of copper.
Her mouth fell open and she dared take one step closer, but the young Prince stopped her, raising his hand.
"I think it’s best to stay there, my lady. Tessarion is young and she doesn’t know you yet."
Alysanne nodded dutifully and looked back at the dragon. A growing smile bloomed on her pink lips. "She’s...so beautiful."
Daeron smiled proudly and looked at Tessarion, who was curiously observing the young lady through her golden eyes. The Prince touched her on the snout and even though she was several steps away from them, Alysanne could have sworn she heard the dragon make a low rumble, much like the purring of a cat.
She watched the prince say something to the dragon and not a moment later, the beast lurched onward and took to the skies, her blue wings blending with the sky.
"I guess she didn’t like me." the lady joked when the Prince approached her. He chuckled, his wavy silver hair ruffled by the wind. "I’ve told her to do as she likes. She needs to know the sky."
Alysanne watched the winged shape disappearing above the clouds and asked "How many dragons are there now in King’s Landing?
"Three, my lady."
She turned to him furrowing her brow and he heard her silent question.
“My brother, Aemond, he doesn’t have a dragon. His egg didn’t hatch.”
“Oh.” was all she said.
She remembered reading about the Targaryens and their mighty dragons. She read everything about the custom of putting a dragon egg into the crib.
She also knew that if the egg didn’t hatch, it was considered a gloomy message from the Gods. A bad omen.
“One day…” Prince Daeron’s voice shook her from her memories "when Tessarion has known you better and she’s big enough to saddle two…one day I will take you to the skies with me, my lady."
Alysanne smiled fondly at him, feeling the adrenaline flowing through her veins at the mere thought of flying on dragonback.
A silly dream. A childish dream. Yet destined to come true.
Though it will not be the Blue Queen who will take Lady Alysanne to the skies, but Vhagar, Queen of All Dragons and Ruler of the Skies.
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Thank you so much for reading!! 💚💚
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godsopenwound · 11 months
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Mary Oliver, “Invitation” from Red Bird
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birdhism · 1 year
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rains-of-words · 9 months
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and also I am the leaves and the blossoms, and, like them, I am full of delight, and shaking.
Mary Oliver, Red Bird
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diioonysus · 1 year
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zitkala-sa or red bird (1876-1938) was was a yankton dakota writer, editor, translator, musician, educator, and political activist. her later books were among the first works to bring traditional native american stories to a widespread white english-speaking readership. she was co-founder of the national coouncil of american indians in 1926, which was established to lobby for native people's right to united states citizenship and other civil rights they had long been denied. when she was a child, she was taken to white's indiana manual labor Institute, a quaker missionary boarding school in wabash, indiana. this training school was founded by josiah white for the education of "poor children, white, colored, and indian to help them advance in society.” she wrote about this in one of her books describing the misery of having her hertiage stripped from her and being forced to cut her hair.
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