siravalondulac

[siravalondulac]

when u wanna rb a young griff gifset but op fancasted a white guy ……

[siravalondulac]

this guy has 29 children btw

[siravalondulac]

017. tywin ii

house of lies, city of blood

asoiaf ff | fem!oc centric

summary: the martells attempt to adjust word count: 2856 warnings: none author's note: no lie, this is one of my favourite chapters i've written so far

masterlist

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His carefully crafted plans threatened to fall apart. If merely one more inconvenience came his way, years of plotting and scheming would turn out for naught.

Tyrion gone, the Mountain dead, his daughter on the edge of a hysterical breakdown, his son continuing to refuse his commands, and Oberyn Martell set to strike. The only bright spot was Tommen, who proved to be far more susceptible to his influence than his brother.

Yet he had managed far worse situations.

After his first attempt to talk to Prince Oberyn, he had not returned to their manse himself, instead instructing Varys to find out the happenings inside. Not much came of it.

Not much came of the investigation into the Mountain’s death as well. The peasants were extraordinarily stubborn according to Ser Addam, revealing so little about the attack he wondered if they even witnessed it at all.

As a whole, it seemed like a drunken rape attempt gone wrong. A victim willing to fight back, bystanders entirely disinterested in assisting Lannister soldiers, and the involvement of a red viper. He knew there was more to it, yet could not bring himself to devote precious time to the question.

Then one day, two weeks after the attack, Lord Varys came into his solar with a far more enticing subject.

The man had sat beside him at the council meeting earlier in the day, yet as he laid down something on the table between them, Tywin understood why this had had to wait.

“One of my little birds managed to make its way into Prince Oberyn's manse, and found this in his daughter's chamber.”

The object in question was a golden necklace, dirty and rundown after years of use, yet the lion on its pendant was still clear for all to see.

Unwillingly, a conversation he had held with Ser Addam came to his mind.

“And Prince Oberyn's daughter was injured in the process.”

“Which daughter?”

“The blonde one.”

Prince Oberyn had flaunted the girl before him. Tywin had assumed it was because he wanted to get a rise out of him, yet now this interaction started gaining a different meaning.

Blonde hair, pale skin, a lion around her neck. How she had stared at his daughter and then left without another word. Certainly, she did not have green eyes, but one could scarcely view this as counterevidence.

“I suppose we finally know where the princess has been all these years.”

His fist closed around the necklace.

A week later, news came of the girl's awakening. Less than a minute had passed before he was on his way.

The gate of the manse had been repaired, and four soldiers in orange and white, with spears and shields on the ready, stood guard before it. They did not let themselves be threatened by the small body of troops he had brought with him, and if that had not directly interfered with his plans he would have almost admired it.

“I demand to speak to Prince Oberyn!” he called out to the soldiers.

“Say what you must,” one of the men spoke. “We will relay the message, but it is up to our prince to decide when and if to answer.”

“I will speak to him face to face, and you will let me inside to do so. Would you refuse to obey the Hand of the King?”

“I bow to none but House Martell. We have clear instructions to bar entrance to everyone not previously invited, and that includes you, m’lord.”

The soldiers beside Tywin laid their hands on their swords, and while he would have enjoyed nothing more than to cut down these quarrelsome Dornishman and force his way into the yellow-painted house, he knew to tread with care around these people. Lest they accuse him of another crime.

“Prince Oberyn stands accused of treason to the crown. I suggest you fetch him, lest you endure the same fate.”

The men shared glances amongst each other, then the leader nodded and another quickly disappeared into the manse.

His horse grew restless beneath him, the soldiers around him even more so. Spectators stood at a distance, yet their murmurs and babbles still reached him, their gawking somehow more annoying than flies buzzing around one’s head in the summer heat.

After he had already begun considering the success rate of attempting to break down the gate, it finally opened, and the soldier stepped outside, closely followed by Prince Oberyn.

The man sauntered towards him as Tywin dismounted and stepped forward, meeting the Dornishman half-way.

“Lord Tywin.” He made no attempt to hide the hatred in his voice. “I thought I had made myself clear concerning your presence in my home.”

“One could say you are a guest in my home, and that I could easily take this house away from you and return it to the crown for your treason.”

“You throw this word around so much, my lord, I am not sure you know what it means.” It was strange, seeing Oberyn completely serious for once, not even the hint of a grin on his face. “Is this treason you speak of in regard to me protecting my daughters from a monster? To dare bring my sister’s murderer to justice?”

“A Council of the Faith has decided on the validity of your actions, Prince Oberyn. I am not here to refute their conclusion.”

“Then why do you disturb my family’s peace?”

Tywin contemplated on the correct course of action for a moment, before he said, “Alarming reports have reached me, claiming you are holding a princess of the realm captive. Which, of course, would be treason.”

“I did not know Princess Myrcella was missing.”

“You know I am not referring to her.”

“Then who, Lord Tywin?”

“I think we both know who.”

“I am afraid I don't. The only people in my manse are those born and raised in Dorne, my servants and family alike. No one is held captive in a non-existent cellar, no one prohibited from leaving. Whatever it is you have heard, it could not be farther from the truth.”

“Then I am sure you would allow me to take a look for myself.”

“I will allow no such thing. My daughters are still recovering from the attack by your men, I will not risk unsettling them by permitting you and your soldiers to poke around their home.”

“You have a choice here, Prince Oberyn.” Tywin gave a short wave, and two of his men stepped forward. “Either you open the gates for me, allow have a short look around, let me talk to your daughter, or you can accompany me to the Red Keep, where I will have you imprisoned and tried for treason. What will it be?”

“Why the sudden need to speak to my daughter? Do you assume she will be more perceptible to your questioning, easier to bend to your will?”

“Our introduction at my grandson’s wedding was quite short, and left me with some open questions. Harmless ones, I assure you. She might be able to give me insight into what happened that fateful night, as well.”

“Are these not things I could answer you? She needs her rest after having almost been raped and slaughtered by your men.”

“It will not take long, I assure you-”

“You do not even feel bad about what happened.” Oberyn slightly tilted his head. “How strange. I wonder what evil a man must have committed to disregard such blatant treason on the laws of the gods.”

Laws of the gods, ha!

“These men acted on their own, with no command from anyone, least of all me,” Tywin said. “Now, step aside. I swear to be quick and not cause any… trouble. I only wish to talk.”

The Dornishman’s eyes moved across him, then the soldiers opposite him. Four and ten, all equipped with swords, spears, knives, and shields, half of them ahorse. Any attempt to attack, or even to deny him, would result in a quick defeat.

“I know you are smarter than this,” Tywin said with a lowered voice. “Or are you this willing to let your daughters lose their father?”

He almost assumed Oberyn would refuse - he hoped he would, wishing for an opportunity to rid himself of this plague. Yet the Dornishman was indeed smart enough to understand the dire of his situation, and so commanded to open the gate. Only for Tywin and two soldiers, but it was enough.

They were led through the plant-infested courtyard and up a flight of stairs, along a walkway, until they stopped in front of a door. He gave a sign for the soldiers to wait, and followed Oberyn into the room.

His gaze darted around the chambers for a moment, attempting to spot any traps, but it quickly settled onto the bed in the centre. And the girl with golden hair lying upon it.

“She is asleep,” the Dornishman said with a lowered voice. “I suggest you return later. Waking her now would only confuse her, you will not get what you seek out of her.”

“There is no need. I will simply wait here.”

“It could take hours.”

Prince Oberyn had placed himself between the bed and Tywin, but he had seen enough.

“I have time.”

“What is it that you want from my daughter? What importance could she possibly hold to you?”

Tywin had considered answering him, in that moment, either with the truth or another deflection, a way to get the man out of the room and leave him alone with her. But before he ever had the chance to make a decision, something else happened.

“Father?” The voice was quiet and broken.

Prince Oberyn had rushed to the girl's side quicker than even Tywin had fully comprehended what happened, and was now brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “It's alright, Elle. I'm here.”

Elle. How had he not realised before?

The girl groaned and tried to sit up, upon which the Dornishman gently pressed against her shoulder. “Careful. You only just woke up.”

Then her eyes fell on him, and fear spread on her face. Her hand grabbed Prince Oberyn's arm and she tried to hide behind his body. The man followed her gaze, eyes full of hatred.

“I would suggest you leave. She is nowhere near ready to answer whatever you so desperately need.”

“If she is awake, can talk, and see my face, then I would say she is quite ready for me. Alone, I might add.”

“Alone? What makes you think I would leave her alone with something like-”

“Father,” the girl said quietly. “It's alright.”

Prince Oberyn hissed a quiet threat as he passed him, then the door fell close and silence settled on the room.

The girl carefully moved into a sitting position, every move eliciting a different muffled sound from her mouth, and by the time she leaned her head against the headboard sweat pearled on her forehead.

“What-” She took in a pained breath. “What may I help you with?”

Her voice was deep, yet he didn't know if it was natural or because of her three week's sleep, and steeped heavily in that vexing Dornish accent. A red scar sat above her brow, three more laid on the left side of her face, and every bit of exposed skin showed bruises in various colours. He would need to make her presentable before bringing her to the Red Keep.

“You have caused quite the commotion after only a moon in the city.”

“Because I almost got killed?” She pressed a hand into the side of her chest and pulled a grimace.

“Because your actions got one of my bannermen killed. That is certainly a feat for someone pretending to be Prince Oberyn’s bastard.”

She blinked. “Pretending?”

“I think it is clear for all to see you do not belong to these people.”

It took a while until she answered, and he wondered whether she tried to find an unnecessary defence or if her mind was still half-asleep.

“These people?” she repeated.

Perhaps the girl was simply slow on the uptake in general. The Dornish must have done all kinds of inhumane things to her over the years.

He took the few steps to her bedside and dropped the necklace in her lap. She stared at it, then slowly reached out with her left hand and picked it up. Seconds passed, then a minute.

“What-” She exhaled. “What is this?”

“This was found in this very room only a week ago.” He cocked his head. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

“I am afraid I don’t.”

“There is no need to lie, Cerelle.”

She blinked and furrowed her brows. Slowly, her confused face grated on his nerves.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You are safe now. I have soldiers outside this room and this manse, ready to strike at my command and get you out of here if these people will not let you go freely.”

“I don’t know what you think is going on, my lord, but I can assure you I am not being held against my will. Nor do I understand why you are calling me Cerelle.”

“Did they beat your past out of you, then? Force you to forget where you came from in a desperate attempt to take their revenge?”

“No! No one beat me, and I remember my past quite well.”

“But you are being held captive by the Dornish, otherwise you would have returned home long ago.”

“I did not return home because I did not want to!”

He almost smiled. Cerelle averted her gaze.

“Here is what I think happened.” He started slowly walking around the bed. “I knew about the happenings in King’s Landing, either through my men or through my daughter’s constant and irritating letters. Therefore I knew about the troubles you were causing. I tried making arrangements to reign you in, like a betrothal to Elyana Vypren’s son, yet you disappeared before any of them could come to fruition.” She stopped playing with the necklace for a moment. “I never believed you were kidnapped. I think you ran away and were caught by the Dornish, who forced you into bastardy. Now they were planning on flaunting you before me, to take their revenge on the perceived slight on their family.”

“They did not force me to do anything,” she said quietly. Upon noticing his silence, she continued. “I came to Dorne because I willed it. Oberyn became my father because I willed it. I live as a bastard because I willed it. And I suggest you tread more carefully when talking about my family.”

He scoffed. “These people are not your family.”

“At least they recognised me when I returned.”

Her eyes, despite not carrying her family's colour, certainly carried their sharpness.

“I suppose I am able to arrest Prince Oberyn even without your cooperation.”

“What? No! Stop!”

She stumbled after him, falling out of the bed and tipping over a glass jug, both of them crashing onto the ground. Within an instant, the door was pushed open and Oberyn knelt next to Cerelle.

“Are you alright?” He inspected her body for injuries. “You are supposed to stay in bed.”

“I couldn't- He wants to arrest you, I have to do something.”

Viper eyes settled on Tywin. “For what crime?”

“Hiding a princess of the realm is considered treason by some.”

“Not by me!” His granddaughter was rather pathetic cowering on the floor, tears streaming down her face, burrowing her hands in Prince Oberyn's tunica. “Please, he tried to bring me home, but I didn't let him. No one else knew.”

Cerelle seemed to truly love the Dornishman. This was an annoyance, for it would not allow him to rid himself of this threat, too big was the danger of losing the valuable piece a princess presented. Yet perhaps it could also be an opportunity.

“I would be willing to ignore this blatant betrayal on the crown,” Tywin said slowly, “and to protect these people you care about from powerful players I know would rather see them dead. If you return to your place in court. No acting out, no running away. You will listen to my commands and behave as a princess should.”

It wasn't ideal - Prince Oberyn was after his blood, and neither of them would like to cooperate with the other. But perhaps an opportunity would arise to get rid of the man. And until then he had his granddaughter under his grasp.

“Elle-” Prince Oberyn said, yet was quickly interrupted.

“I agree. No harm will come to a Dornishman as long as I play my part.”

Tywin almost smiled. “Perfect.” Then he started walking toward the door. “Now get dressed, we need to visit our family.”

“Are you mad?” Prince Oberyn said. “She can hardly breathe without pain, and you want to drag her to the Red Keep?”

Tywin raised a brow. “Already resisting my commands?”

Prince Oberyn stared at him with hatred, Cerelle with fear.

“Tomorrow,” she said.

Tywin considered her words, then nodded. “Tomorrow.”

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author's note: i simply adore the interactions between tywin and oberyn and i am so glad i rewrote this chapter to fit more of them in here

[siravalondulac]

Hi! It’s me again, ur fav anon ❤️

I just read the sapphire steel chapter six, absolutely in love with it! This is just to praise you cause the chapter was entirely perfect, like I read it in one breath honestly.

The way they’re both opening up to each other, Jon finally letting himself feel comfort, at least some sense of it. We saw how broken they both are, they just over the years realized they needed to hide it more than show their vulnerability. I think they’d both come a long way if they stay together, at least I hope so ☺️

Anyway, just wanted to let you know, ur writing is still one of the best I ever read, love it, love you, and amazing work 🫶🏻

- 🦢

awww thank you so much

i really, really loved writing this chapter for these exact reasons, and to finally be able to develop jon and cerelle as characters more. until now, it's all just been small tidbits here and there (except for chapter three), just tiny fractions you get by reading between the lines. the next chapter will hopefully expand on all this a lot more.

thank you for your ask, i love hearing from you 🫶🏻

[siravalondulac]

sapphire steel | chapter six - secrets

j. snow x fem!oc

summary: the attempt to make cerelle confess her darkest secrets goes very, very wrong

tags: canon divergence - rhaegar won the trident, smut (f/m, p in v, mentioned doggy, she sits in his lap at the end), mentioned animal death, discussions of attempted suicide

word count: 2204

author's note: hope you have fun with this chapter :) nothing bad will happen :) don't worry :))

masterlist | additional works masterlist

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He tried not to let that night's events affect him. And they didn't.

When Cerelle returned the following evening, he took her from behind for the first time in weeks, simply to prove to her how little she or her pleasure meant to him. He could survive without her pretty face.

Afterwards he permitted she lay on her back again. She said nothing.

What exactly his goal was with her now - now that she had come before and with him, now that she had even sat above him during sex - he wasn’t quite sure. Only that he would never let her go.

Five nights after their conversation, she had entered his chambers in a red dress again. Not the one she had worn across several moons and driven him into absolute madness with, but one even darker. She likely expected him to say something, yet he only pushed her onto the bed and fucked her with the garrment still clinging to her body.

Cerelle had never been afraid of him, he knew. She was absolutely and terrifyingly indifferent towards him. But his recent bursts of insanity - sucking her fingers still covered in their combined spent, and letting her sit on top - had seemingly given her a false sense of security.

She now let lone emotions slip through her perfectly curated facade. They weren't nice emotions, by any means, but he took whatever she gave him. Soaked it up. Became addicted to it.

There seemed to be neither rhyme nor reason to the way she reacted to his treatment of her. Some days she simply laid there, no matter if he simply fucked her or actually tried to make her come. All she did was stare at him with those burning blue eyes he knew he should be scared of.

Then there were some nights she reacted to everything. A touch to her breast, a bite into her neck, even the most gentlest of brushes to her pearl made her tremble and gasp beneath him.

Mostly, however, she did as he expected of her - muted, plain, and underwhelming.

He was close to asking her why she had come to him in the first place. Why she continued returning to him. Why she had shown up in King's Landing at all. Casterly Rock must have been safe and comfortable for her; only a fool would leave such a place voluntarily.

But then she would almost certainly demand he answer a question as well. And the kind of things she would likely want to know sent him spiralling into a nightmare with no return.

So he continued fucking her as if nothing was wrong.

Sometimes, he woke during the day - a truly dreadful experience - and the only thing it provided him was another opportunity to drink and hate himself. The constant snow storms outside his windows certainly did not improve his situation.

When was the last time he had shown up at court?

It had to have been weeks, if not even moons ago, otherwise he would have retained even a sliver of the memory. He was not missed, that he was certain of, but a member of his family would drag him into the public again sooner rather than later. They always did, and it never ended well.

Did Cerelle appear in court? Her grandfather was the Master of Coin and she was the whore of the Black Dragon, people had to be curious about her. Perhaps she entertained their fantasies and prejudices, perhaps she tried to prove she was not as bad as they made her seem. Or, perhaps, she hid from them as he did.

He looked at her face, sometimes, wishing to read her mind.

She laid beneath him, chest rising and lowering raggedly, the marks left by his teeth and tongue slowly darkening, promising to at least be there when she returned the coming day. Her hair stuck to her forehead, gold cascading around her head, brushing against his hands. She had closed her eyes when she had come, and now it almost seemed like she was asleep.

It looked… peaceful.

“Tell me a secret.”

Her gaze sat onto him slowly, flickering across his features, assessing his words. Its blue reminded him of nothing but her own eyes - a colour so rare, so terrifying.

“A secret,” he repeated hoarsely. “Something no one knows about you.”

His cock pulsed inside of her as she almost unnoticeably raised a brow. A challenge. He wanted to fuck her right again to show her her place.

“Tell me a secret,” he said one last time. “And I'll tell you one of mine.”

A smile played around her lips. “Alright.” She laid her hands onto her stomach. “My favourite flower is the snowdrop.”

“That doesn't count.”

He hoped she did not notice the way his hips had jerked forward at hearing her voice again. Or, at the very least, had mistaken it as an accident.

“You demanded something no one else knows about me.” Her smile had turned into something akin to a grin. “That is something no one knows. Now you.”

He wanted to throw her out of his bed at her brazenness. No, better yet, out of his room. Without her gown, to force her to walk naked down the Keep's halls, so that everyone would know she was a dirty whore.

(They already did. The courtiers always knew.)

“My favourite drink is ale, not wine.”

She did not react to his words, did not challenge them, did not claim someone to already know. And when he removed his dick from her cunt - only narrowly defeating the urge to stuff his escaping seed back into her - she dressed herself, curtsied, and disappeared without a word.

Snowdrop.

Not a flower one could easily gift a lady. Not that he wanted to, of course, least of all her, but he merely considered a thought. Winter had reigned for almost three years, and would last for even longer. Snowdrops bloomed in spring. And by then, Cerelle would be long gone.

He emptied the remaining ale from the flask on his bedside table, threw the bottle out of his window, and fell into a restless sleep.

The following weeks, they repeated this game.

He fucked her in ever more intimate positions, she reacted ever-increasingly to his ministrations, and afterwards, with his cock still shoved deep inside her cunt, they shared secrets. Breathed into the space between them, knowing, begging, pleading none of it to ever leave it.

In the beginning, their words carried little meaning. Favourite animals and clothes and colours, mentions of interesting stones and marbles found throughout the week, hidden places they heard about. Trivialities. He almost thought of stopping their conversations.

But ever so slowly, something changed.

Cerelle mentioned her childhood. He talked of memories of his siblings. She told tales of solitude, he of despair. Her blue eyes became emotionless as she talked. He did not hold back his tears.

She once owned a cat named Guinevere, with white fur and eyes like hers. Her grandfather took her away, claiming such things had no place in the chambers of a bastard. She had found her carcass in the kennel the following day. He had ripped off the drapes of his bed because he hated the colours. Black and red. No one had replaced them, and so the wooden posts stood uselessly around them.

Cerelle loved to paint. Hidden in one of the tunnels below Casterly Rock, she had worked on her art, far away from where her grandfather could find her. Rhaenys had taught him how to ride a horse. After none of the knights and stable boys had been able to keep him on the animals long enough, his sister had taken him to the tourney grounds and kept him there until he had figured it out.

She had never left Casterly Rock until coming here. Besides the few times he had trained with Rhaenys, he had never left the walls of King's Landing.

Her name day was close to the end of the year. The twenty-first day of the last moon. She apologised after saying it, claiming she did not know what had gotten into her. That it wasn't even a secret, despite it sometimes seeming like it. His was on the twenty-first of the third moon.

She wanted to see what was north of the Wall. He had been invited to come to Sunspear by Elia.

She had once been locked into her chambers for an entire year. He had once stood on his balcony's banister, thinking of killing himself.

“Why did you decide against it?”

“My father wants to be rid of me, but is too craven to do it himself. Why should I do his work for him?”

What started as a way to coax targets out of Cerelle, means to attack her, to punish her for her indifference, turned into… Yearning. For something better for both of them.

One night, after he had thrown her leg over his shoulder to fuck her even deeper and harder than before, she did not look him in the eyes as she spoke.

“My grandfather blames me for my mother's death. He wanted to use her for alliances, and he can’t do that with me. No one wants a bastard.”

“I should have been a girl. My father had this ideal in his head, of recreating the conquerors, of returning the glory to his house. He started a war for it. Now he only has me, and a realm destined for destruction.”

She shared her loneliness. He his hatred. Equals, despite their standings. Bastards, hidden from the world. Problems no one wanted to deal with.

She did not know who her father was. He had never met his mother's siblings.

The servants at Casterly Rock were instructed to avoid her. The servants in the Red Keep were afraid of him.

She killed someone once. He did not know how many bastards he had.

One night, he kneeled before her once more, hands buried into the soft of her hips, slamming his cock over and over again into her wetness. It ought to feel good, despite how quiet Cerelle remained. She was his whore, a simple set of holes for his pleasure, someone to discard once the need had faded.

Then why was he not able to cum? What was this strange longing he felt whenever he looked at her?

He sped up his thrusts, crashing so hard into her it hurt even him. The slapping of skin against skin echoed in his empty room, yet his grunts sounded wrong. Forced.

What was wrong with him?

He suddenly grabbed Cerelle's body and hauled her upwards, seating her onto his lap. She caught herself quickly, wrapping her arms around his back as he started slamming her down and onto his cock.

Her hair fell around them like a curtain, shielding them from the horrible outside. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, glad over the change in position and the opportunity to hide his tears. Her nails left indents in the skin of his back, perhaps even drawing blood. He welcomed the pain.

Moans and whines spilled from both their lips now, melting into each other, the sounds combining and becoming indiscernible. Prettier than music.

One of her hands glid upwards and found purchase in his short curls, tugging at them, tilting his head back until her lips pressed against his forehead. Her hips, ever so slightly but still, rolled on their own against his body.

It was the first time they peaked together.

They sat in the afterglow, neither daring to move, neither daring to break this strange peace they had found themselves in.

He felt her heartbeat underneath his lips.

“I have dreams.” Her words were barely above a whisper. “Of the past, and the future. I hear my mother’s screams as she dies, I see Robert Baratheon's head swept away by the water, I feel the cold that will kill us all. And I see you. A wolf with black scales. I have known I would meet you long before I came here.”

He traced her spine. Slowly, terrified she might break if he was too rough.

“I have no more secrets.”

He curled a strand of her hair around his finger. Soft as silk, golden as the sun.

“I will call for you when I have need of you again.”

She detached herself from him, and he liked to imagine the moment she let her hand linger on his skin meant something. Then the moment was gone, and the thought faded.

He did not watch as she dressed herself. As she pulled the purple gown over her body, tightened the laces on her back, slipped into her black shoes. Nor as she straightened her hair, wiped away the tears, and took a deep breath to focus herself.

The door fell close, and the candle went out.

He stumbled into a corner of his room and vomited up every scrap of food and alcohol he had consumed the past days. Retching and gagging until his throat burned and the only fluid passing his lips was spit.

Then he cried.

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[siravalondulac]

me: *happily going about my day, finally writing house of lies again*

the voices in my head: what if you wrote book one from cerelle's pov

[siravalondulac]

craziest thing about oberyn martell's character is that he is just someone's dad

[siravalondulac]

they would have matched each other's freak

[siravalondulac]

016. ellaria ii

house of lies, city of blood

asoiaf ff | fem!oc centric

summary: the martells attempt to adjust word count: 918 warnings: none

masterlist

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The time passed. Slower than any of them would have liked. The trees in their courtyard turned yellow and orange and red, and then started slowly losing their leaves. One night became two, five, ten, colder and colder with every day that passed. And yet, the time passed.

Tywin Lannister had not shown himself since that first day. A part of herself wanted to believe she was the cause.

“How many more innocents have to die because lords like you refuse to see reason? My lover's daughter is fighting for her life inside of this room and yet you still stand here daring to demand that which does not belong to you. The Mountain is dead. I suggest you find out why this happened before my lover draws his own conclusions.”

Oberyn had not asked about the Old Lion, where he had gone or what he had wanted.

Addam Marbrand, the Commander of the City Watch, had become somewhat of a friend of hers. She always made acquaintances easily - that is why her relationship with Oberyn had progressed so quickly - and that coupled with Addam's kindness and genuine attempts to figure out the truth of the attack led them to spend the odd afternoon together. Over a cup of tea he had also been kind enough to keep her informed over what happened at court.

A Council of the Faith had been called and together with the small council had decided to recognise Oberyn’s defeat of the Mountain as a legitimate representation of the trial by combat. They were, after all, meant to fight on that very same day anyways. There were enough witnesses and Oberyn had bested Ser Gregor all on his own. Addam had added with a lowered voice that Lord Tywin had seemed none too thrilled when hearing of the ruling.

Tyrion Lannister had simply disappeared. A week after he had been pronounced innocent, he was suddenly nowhere to be found, enraging the queen and leading to a general sense of discomfort in the Red Keep. Some say the Imp had never left the castle, and was now haunting the halls in search for his next victim.

Elia worried her. It was the first time her eldest daughter had been confronted with death directly, and now Ellaria wished she had prepared her more. How she did not know, but there had to have been something to talk about, something to show her to make this experience less painful. As of now, her daughter hardly moved from Elle's side, her eyes constantly fixed on her sister's motionless body.

Oberyn had somewhat recovered, being able to go about his day more normally. Yet at any given moment, there were two emotions battling inside him - burning hatred at the Mountain and House Lannister for what they had done, and searing worry for Elle.

She tried her best to maintain a sense of normalcy inside the manse. Regular lunches with her father and uncle, walks around the city with Larra, Jynessa, and Myria, discussions on their next steps with Arron and Dagos. At her paramour’s request, Ryon had started busying himself with increasing the defences of their home, shall it ever come down to it once more.

But mostly, she stayed with Elia.

The door opened and Oberyn stepped through, his gaze soft as always whenever he set foot in Elle’s chambers.

“How are you?” he asked his daughter, putting a bowl of fruit down on the table beside her.

She glanced at it, then quickly ripped her eyes back to the bed. “Fine. Never been better.”

“You don't have to lie, Lady Lance. I know this has not been easy on you.”

Elia bit her lip, lost in thought. “It's been three weeks.”

“And all this time you have spent in here,” he said. “Elle will not die if you step into the sun for a moment.”

“I cannot leave her.”

“You wouldn't leave her. Do you think Elle would want you to forget about life because of her?”

“What life is there without her?”

They had started to try to gently guide her out of this room for a couple of days now, yet nothing worked.

“What your father wants to say-” Ellaria tried, yet was interrupted by her daughter.

“I don't care! Elle and I will not be separated again! I have only just gotten her back, I cannot lose her once more. Never again.”

Ellaria opened her mouth to respond, then something happened none of them had expected.

A quiet groan came from the bed.

Their heads whirled towards it, three pairs of eyes fixated on the body covered by layers of blankets and pillows, trying to discern if their minds had played a trick on them or if…

No, it had been true. Elle's fingers curled inward, she took in a sharp breath, and then her eyes slowly flickered open.

Ellaria barely had time to gasp in joy before Elia jumped onto her sister, crushing her into a tight hug.

“Ow,” was the first hoarse word out of Elle's mouth.

Elia sobbed, bringing out barely more than a few stammered words. Then Oberyn broke free of his shock and joined his daughters on the bed, laying a gentle kiss on his daughter's golden hair before hugging her as well. And even though Ellaria never fully understood Elle, had never had the kind of connection that would warrant breaking out in tears over the other's awakening, she joined her family in the embrace as well.

previous | next

author's note: sorry for the short chapter, but i promise next week will make up for it :)

until then, tell me what you think of the story so far, and what you think will happen in the future. i'd love to hear from you

[siravalondulac]

we all agree right

[siravalondulac]

cerelle as the champion of the people, freed of any courtly restrictions and constantly doing as much as she can to help the smallfolk (as she already does in canon). jon with a legitimate claim to the throne, forced to be a prisoner to protect his siblings from harm and sing the praises of a dying dynasty.

they meet when she ambushes his carriage, and despite being on opposite sides feeling a strange connection. she kidnaps him to extort a ransom from the king and queen, where they get to know each other better. jon doesn't understand how cerelle can put so many innocents in harms way, she doesn't understand why he can't simply rebel and break free.

they continue to meet in secret, completely fascinated by one another (as they are in every version of their story). eventually, they fall in love.

the targaryen king or queen finds out jon has been seeing the famed outlaw robin hood/golden paladin, and decide to stage a trap to catch her. they organise a massive archery competition, where the winner will earn a wish - any wish - from the crown.

cerelle participates under a disguise. jon recognises her of course, and cannot help but root for her despite what is at stake. the king/queen notice his eyes following one specific person the entire time, and when she eventually wins they take her captive and reveal her. jon pleads for mercy, to spare her life, that he will do anything if she gets to live.

i haven't quite figured out how it continues, but cerelle eventually manages to free jon and take him with her into freedom, where they can be together for all eternity.

cerelle as robin hood and jon as maid marian... much to think about

[siravalondulac]

cerelle as robin hood and jon as maid marian... much to think about

[siravalondulac]

sometimes i wonder if imogen poots is truly the best faceclaim for cerelle. and then i look at these gifs-

and i'm like. yeah. that's my babygirl

gif credit to @bardofthetearling

[siravalondulac]

cerelle hill (oc) from sapphire steel

[siravalondulac]

ᴍʏ ᴀꜱᴏɪᴀꜰ ᴏᴄ'ꜱ ⚔️

i realised i have far too many and that it was time to properly introduce them to y'all :3

(fyi, these are all from my series stars above, songs below)

cerelle baratheon fc: imogen poots

also known as: elle sand, golden paladin, sir elle of the riverlands inspiration: aelin galathynius, robin hood, elsa of arendelle, allerleirauh

-eldest daughter of cersei and robert (*cough* jaime) -looks exactly like a lannister, besides her blue eyes -mirror image of her mother -born in deep den (seat of house lydden) (the court had been travelling back to king's landing from casterly rock, when one of the worst snowstorms the westerlands had ever seen forced them to stay in the castle) -follows the faith of the seven -has a horse named starlight -is pansexual (because i say so) and autistic (because why not)

-grows up sheltered in the red keep, therefore develops a rebellious streak; climbing the castle walls, escaping in to the city, terrorising the nobles -is betrothed to robb stark at seven, hates this so much she runs away, ending up in braavos, where oberyn martell finds her and convinces her to come to sunspear with him -lives there as elle sand, his bastard, and is finally allowed the freedom she long craved, even learning to fight with a spear and daggers -at fourteen, finds out oberyn had only been using her for her claim and plans to betroth her to quentyn, runs away again, this time ending up north of the wall -is eventually found by benjen stark, and brough to castle black, where she lives until the start of the story

cerelle definitely has abandonment issues, seemingly only ever being valuable to others because of her title and never truly loved for herself. she despises duty and being forced into roles and positions she doesn't want (which makes her knighthood all the more terrifying for her). but she is compassionate and feels a lot very easily, and therefore gets involved in a lot of weird adventures. she hates killing, hates violence, yet because of the world she lives in gets pushed again and again into situations where those are the only means of escape. she has only ever fallen in love with people she can't have (brother of the night's watch, women, her enemies, her kingsguard) as if the distance she is forced into because of that saves her from having to commit. because cerelle has spent her entire life running away, she has forgotten how to stay.

benjiamin vypren fc: sebastian amoruso

also known as: the butcher of sallydance inspiration: kylo ren, the weeping monk

-lord of high anura (castle in the riverlands) -son of elyana vypren and a man from volantis (elyana exists in canon, she is married to jon wylde, a rando from the stormlands. in this version, she was exiled for attempting to kill her younger brother, ending up in volantis and developing an obsession for a man she meets there. she marries him and returns to westeros, this time successfully usurping her younger brother, killing him and their father to consolidate her rule. she is ruthless, efficient, and in charge of one of the largest armies of the realm.) -younger sister: jayna vypren (oc) -expert archer

-raised since he was little to become as ruthless and viscious as his mother, shaped into her perfect ideal of a lord, punished if he doesn't obey -only has one friend, henrix, but even he has to be kept at a distance -archery is his favourite, and it's the one thing he disagrees with his mother on (she says it's a cowardly way to fight) -barely talks to his father or sister, isolated even from them -yet over the years starts slipping from his mother's grasp, thinking on his own, rejecting her violent ways, something she punishes him severely for -one night, he argues with his mother, in his anger pushes her away from him, she stumbles and falls off the castle walls and to her death -feels terrible and hates himself, but remembers what his mother told him: to never show others weakness -so he pretends he killed her intentionally, names himself lord of high anura, and eliminates any opposition -stays in his castle for the most part, treats his subjects just as terribly as his mother, hosts many tourneys and feasts to distract himself, until the golden paladin (cerelle) shows up at one

benjiamin has. so many issues, so much pent-up anger and frustration that he doesn't know what to do with. his mother traumatized him heavily, and even if that doesn't excuse his actions, it certainly explains a lot of them. when cerelle shows up, distrupting his tourney and besting him at something no one had previously beat him at, he becomes obsessed with bringing her down.

helena terrick fc: kelly marie tran

inspiration: helen of troy

-heir to cherrycross (riverlands) (house terrick exists as a name-drop in canon, yet nothing more. i decided to place them along the tumblestone near the border of the westerlands, making their castle invaluable for defense if someone wants to attack riverrun by river.) -parents: leopold terrick and liên (ocs) -younger sisters: hue and hà loan (ocs) -loves stories and tales of brave knights and pretty ladies -very much a lesbian

-grandmother was a merchant from yi-ti, took liên with her wherever she went, ended up in king's landing during robert baratheon's coronation where helena's parents met -loves and appreciates her mother's culture even if she is heir to a westerosi castle; wears the traditional gowns, speaks the language, paints in the art style -lives very isolated from the rest of westeros, so grew to idealise fairytales; brave knights and damsels in distress and true love that conquers all, constantly lost in books -because she is heir to a strategic castle, she gets kidnapped by lannister soldiers during the war of the five kings, which starts her story in the series

helena, at the beginning of the story, looks upon the world with rose-tinted glasses, choosing to only see the romanticised version she has created in her head. so when cerelle comes around - a real-life hero of the people, the golden paladin who dares to stand up to evil - it seems like a dream come true for her, and she develops a rapid obsession with her. of course, even her life will eventually take a turn for the worse, this is westeros we are talking about.

zima fc: ariela barer

inspiration: milady de winter, corinne/phillippe

-bastard of lord jonos bracken (until now, i have only hinted at it in the story, but you could have realised if you read closely enough: how harry and her know each other seemingly very well, how similar they are described, her emphasising harry isn't the eldest, caring so deeply about barbara bracken, knowing intimately what happens at stone hedge) -first born of all of jonos' children -sometimes stays at stone hedge, mostly journeys the lands -cares deeply about her sisters -would do anything to achieve her goals -also very much sapphic

zima, like many characters, is a dark mirror to cerelle. they are both deeply compassionate, care about the innocents, and hate those that abuse their power, but zima will not hesitate to resort to violence. she is active, wheras cerelle is reactive.

harry rivers fc: luke pasqualino

inspiration: prince louis, phillippe

(technically not an oc, as harry rivers exists in canon. but we know virtually nothing about him besides his death, so i'll count him) -bastard son of lord jonos bracken -second oldest of all the children, something he despises -envious of his true-born siblings -wishes to become ruler of stone hedge -sometimes receives attention from his father, which only strengthens his resolve to usurp his sisters

harry has only sisters, and has a massive inferiority complex about it. he knows that if he had been true-born, stone hedge would be his, and that thought has been plaguing him for almost his entire life. every smidge of attention from his father sends him further down the spiral of wanting to be his father's heir, wanting to make him proud, wanting to be the son every westerosi lord desires.

henrix fc: hugh dancy

inspiration: hux

-born in the vale -closest companion of benjiamin vypren -general of the vypren armies

-parents died when he was young, he wandered the lands alone, trying to find work and a home -almost got killed by elyana vypren for trying to steal food from her gardens, benjiamin saved him, took him in -learned to read and write from him, as well as strategy, politics, etiquette -loyal to him without question, was made general when the war of the five kings broke out -involved in every decision benjiamin makes, excells at killing and crafting battle plans, might have an even greater kill count than benjiamin

henrix' entire life, for as long as he remembers, has always revolved around benjiamin. he owes him his life - both literally and in a greater sense, having his current standing in the world from him. he is loyal without question, and fulfills every demand benjiamin has of him, no matter how evil or vile. without benjiamin, he would be lost.

florian penfenics fc: charIes IecIerc

inspiration: sleeping beauty, cinderella

-a king from a time long before the conquest -cursed to sleep for eternity -has magic that can fulfill wishes -can see the future

florian is the character in the story that knows the most, but cannot properly communicate it. he has slept for millennia and was brought into the "modern" world by cerelle, a world he does not know or recognise. he keeps himself contained in his castle in the fear of being distrusted and even killed for posessing magic - something that was inherent to life during his time, but is now seen as something evil. adding to that is the lingering trauma of how the sleeping curse was created and cast upon him. and that is all i will say about him, any more would spoil the story.

[siravalondulac]

Hi bby, its me again, ur anon!

My god have I enjoyed the Cerelle series again, I read the latest chapter on Cerelle and Jon (Rhaegar won at the Trident) and I really liked it. I gotta say the way u can tell where Jon is getting a little confused by his feelings and also giving Cerelle some sense of control is intriguing. I’m quite enjoying this series!

Now, let’s talk about my new fav one even tho it’s just on chapter two. I just read the Jon and Cerelle (the modern one where she is the presidents daughter), the second chapter is chefs kiss 😘. I loved it, it’s become my new favorite series and I love how Jon hugged the pillow in anticipation and how they’re both just nervous and new to this healthy relationship. I am so excited for the next chapter whenever it comes out ❤️

- love u 🦢

omg hii

i'm so glad you like sapphire steel as well. it's so much fun developing jon and cerelle beyond how i have previously written them. even though it's such a different scenario and they are such different people, i think you can still see their "canon" versions shining through.

(canon in this case means the main line story stars above, songs below)

you, dear anon, can be very proud of yourself, because you are the sole reason i continued writing the modern au. your ask showed me that people might actually be interested in the world i crafted, and not just the first one-shot. and now i have enough ideas to fuel this au for an eternity it feels like.

new chapters for the modern au will release on holidays and other special events (mother's day, pride month, summer/winter solstice) to depict jon and cerelle's relationship progression throughout the year. so chapter 3 will be out on easter monday (because sunday is reserved for house of lies)

thank you for the message 🫶

[siravalondulac]

Hiii I really wonder when the new chapter of Sapphire Steel will be release? I really like your writing so i download tumblr just to ask you thiss😭😭😭😭

you know what? because you asked so nicely, i will finish the draft that's been sitting around for two months and upload a new chapter on tuesday. just for you 💜