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Daenerys Targaryen in A Storm of Swords vs Game of Thrones - Episodes 3.7 & 3.8: The Bear and the Maiden Fair & Second Sons

In this series of posts, I intend to analyze precisely how the show writers downplayed or erased several key aspects of Daenerys Targaryen’s characterization, even when they had the books to help them write her as the compelling, intelligent, compassionate, frugal, open-minded and self-critical character that GRRM created.

I want to make it clear that these posts are not primarily meant to offer a better alternative to what the show writers gave us. I understand that they had many constraints (e.g. other storylines to handle, a limited amount of time to write the scripts, budget, actors who may have asked for a certain number of lines, etc) working against them. However, considering how disrespectful the show’s ending was to Daenerys Targaryen and how the book material that they left out makes it even more ludicrous to think that she will also become a villain in A Song of Ice and Fire, I believe that these reviews are more than warranted. They are meant to dissect everything about Dany’s characterization that was lost in translation, with a lot of book evidence to corroborate my statements.

Since these reviews will dissect scene by scene, I recommend taking a look at this post because I will use its sequence to order Dany’s scenes.

This post is relevant in case you want to know which chapters were adapted in which GoT episodes (however, I didn’t make the list myself, all the information comes from the GoT Wiki, so I can’t guarantee that it’s 100% reliable).

In general, I will call the Dany from the books “Dany” and the Dany from the TV series “show!Dany”.

Episode 3.7, "The Bear and the Maiden Fair", was written by George R. R. Martin himself and is one of the two scripts that he wrote and that show!Dany appears in (the other is episode 1.8, "The Pointy End"). Because the quality of show!Dany's screentime is obviously improved thanks to the influence of her creator, I decided to talk about episodes 3.7 and 3.8 (which was written by David Benioff and D. B. Weiss) in a single post in order to highlight the former's strengths and the latter's weaknesses.

Episode 3.7: The Bear and the Maiden Fair

Scene 6

JORAH: Your Grace. Yunkai. The Yellow City.

BARRISTAN: The Yunkish train bed slaves, not soldiers. We can defeat them.

JORAH: On the field, with ease. But they won't meet us on the field. They have provisions, patience, and strong walls. If they're wise, they'll hide behind those walls and chip away at us, man by man.

DAENERYS: I don't want half my army killed before I've crossed the Narrow Sea.

Dany's initial conflict in the books is different from that of her show counterpart:

“Are those slave soldiers they lead?”

“In large part. But not the equal of Unsullied. Yunkai is known for training bed slaves, not warriors.”

“What say you? Can we defeat this army?”

“Easily,” Ser Jorah said. “But not bloodlessly.” Blood aplenty had soaked into the bricks of Astapor the day that city fell, though little of it belonged to her or hers.

“We might win a battle here, but at such cost we cannot take the city.”

“That is ever a risk, Khaleesi. Astapor was complacent and vulnerable. Yunkai is forewarned.”

Dany considered. The slaver host seemed small compared to her own numbers, but the sellswords were ahorse. She’d ridden too long with Dothraki not to have a healthy respect for what mounted warriors could do to foot. The Unsullied could withstand their charge, but my freedmen will be slaughtered. (ASOS Daenerys IV)

As the quote shows, in the books, Dany's victory against Yunkai is quite likely, but it comes at the expense of the Astapori freedmen's lives, which Dany isn't willing to risk. Unfortunately, as I mentioned before in previous reviews, the Astapori who decided to follow Dany in the books are not introduced in the show, so this conflict can't exist for show!Dany.

Instead, the show focuses on the possibility of the Yunkish refusing to surrender by staying inside the city and letting show!Dany's army starve. I'm not a fan of this change because it's uninspired; it's too much like Dany's initial problem in Meereen:

“...Perhaps we can starve the city out.”

Ser Jorah looked unhappy. “We’ll starve long before they do, Your Grace. There’s no food here, nor fodder for our mules and horses. I do not like this river water either. Meereen shits into the Skahazadhan but draws its drinking water from deep wells. Already we’ve had reports of sickness in the camps, fever and brownleg and three cases of the bloody flux. There will be more if we remain. The slaves are weak from the march.”

“Freedmen,” Dany corrected. “They are slaves no longer.”

“Slave or free, they are hungry and they’ll soon be sick. The city is better provisioned than we are, and can be resupplied by water. Your three ships are not enough to deny them access to both the river and the sea.” (ASOS Daenerys V)

It seems that this change was made not just because the Astapori freedmen were not included in show!Dany's story, but also because the events of ASOS Daenerys IV are being stretched out for four episodes (from this one until the season finale). This would explain why the show writers ultimately decided to introduce the sellswords in the next episode instead of in this one, which is another departure from the books, where they're introduced right away:

“Those are sellswords on the flanks. Lances and mounted bowmen, with swords and axes for the close work. The Second Sons on the left wing, the Stormcrows to the right. About five hundred men apiece. See the banners?” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

In the books, Yunkai is already prepared to wage war against Dany if it's necessary. The possibility of a siege is never brought up.

In the show, we'll have two scenes with Dany and her counsellors assessing the enemy forces (one in this episode and another in episode 3.8, which I'll discuss below), unlike the books (which only has one). Each is quite similar to one another, with the second more closely (though not entirely, since, again, the Astapori freedmen are nowhere to be seen) resembling the conflict in the books for actually introducing the sellswords.

Also, it's disappointing that we don't get to see onscreen quite a few moments from the books that showcase Dany's intelligence. The first is that she eagerly wants to apply her lessons with Barristan about how to assess her enemy forces, so she goes with Jorah to see them and then makes a reasonable guess about their strength:

Her Dothraki scouts had told her how it was, but Dany wanted to see for herself. Ser Jorah Mormont rode with her through a birchwood forest and up a slanting sandstone ridge. “Near enough,” he warned her at the crest.

Dany reined in her mare and looked across the fields, to where the Yunkish host lay athwart her path. Whitebeard had been teaching her how best to count the numbers of a foe. “Five thousand,” she said after a moment.

“I’d say so.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

What's also missing from the show is Dany applying the knowledge she acquired from the Dothraki to contextualize the danger that her Astapori freedmen are going to face against the sellswords:

Finally, unlike in the books, we don't have a scene on HBO displaying that show!Dany learned important lessons with both the Qartheen and the Astapori. Such lessons inform why she's certain that both Yunkai and the sellswords will at least come and listen to her offer:

“But if they do not come—”

“They’ll come. They will be curious to see the dragons and hear what I might have to say, and the clever ones will see it for a chance to gauge my strength.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

That being said, there is good in this scene too:

JORAH: We don't need Yunkai, khaleesi. Taking this city will not bring you any closer to Westeros or the Iron Throne.

DAENERYS: How many slaves are there in Yunkai?

JORAH: 200,000, if not more.

DAENERYS: Then we have 200,000 reasons to take the city.

ASOS Daenerys IV doesn't have a scene where Dany explicitly states that she is in Yunkai because she wants to free the slaves (though her thoughts and actions speak for themselves, making it obvious that she is). The show, on the other hand, makes that fact loud and clear for anyone to grasp it. Dany's selflessness is probably the most important aspect of her characterization, so it's no wonder that this scene (which draws attention to it) was written by GRRM himself. (Benioff, in contrast, focuses on Dany's supposed "Littlefinger style ambition" or on her "divine mission", but never on her moral principles)

Before I talk about this show scene in relation to the books, I want to reiterate that yes, it is racist at its core; it employs North African extras as slaves who will be freed by a character played by a British actress, after all. There's no excuse for this and I don't blame any person of color who dislikes show!Dany for this.

That being said, as @yendany already laid out in this post, the slaves of the books are of multiple ethnicities; they range from "pale Qartheen" to "ebon-faced Summer Islanders". This stems from the fact that GRRM never meant for the slavery that Dany is battling against to be race-based; he was, instead, inspired by the slavery in the ancient world. Parallels between Dany's storyline and US slavery, on the other hand, are non-racial in nature. Furthermore, it's crucial to notice that Dany is the only major character of ASOIAF interacting with people of color and caring about their struggles in the first place.

All of this is to say that yes, there is racism in this scene (and the books aren't exempt from it), but this is the fault of the show's production. Neither show!Dany nor Dany are white saviors because of it and their storylines still have thematic significance despite GRRM's and D&D's shortcomings.

In the books, this is not the mode of transportation that the Yunkish envoy chooses to get to Dany:

The envoys from Yunkai arrived as the sun was going down; fifty men on magnificent black horses and one on a great white camel. Their helms were twice as tall as their heads, so as not to crush the bizarre twists and towers and shapes of their oiled hair beneath. They dyed their linen skirts and tunics a deep yellow, and sewed copper disks to their cloaks.

The man on the white camel named himself Grazdan mo Eraz. (ASOS Daenerys IV)

That being said, I would argue that this was a good change because it illustrates the oppression of the Yunkish slaves (who, let's remember, come from lots of different societies and cultures in the books) and reinforces the necessity of show!Dany's revolution.

Meereenese seldom rode within their city walls. They preferred palanquins, litters, and sedan chairs, borne upon the shoulders of their slaves. "Horses befoul the streets," one man of Zakh had told her, "slaves do not." Dany had freed the slaves, yet palanquins, litters, and sedan chairs still choked the streets as before, and none of them floated magically through the air. (ADWD Daenerys VII)

The Brazen Beasts did as they were bid. Dany watched them at their work. “Those bearers were slaves before I came. I made them free. Yet that palanquin is no lighter.”

“True,” said Hizdahr, “but those men are paid to bear its weight now. Before you came, that man who fell would have an overseer standing over him, stripping the skin off his back with a whip. Instead he is being given aid.” (ADWD Daenerys IX)

Considering that the palanquins (along with the whip and the tokar) were used to call attention to the mistreatment and the oppression of the unprivileged in the books, it's not surprising that they were also added in the show in an episode written by GRRM to convey the same point.

MISSANDEI: Now comes the noble Razdal mo Eraz of that ancient and honorable house, master of men and speaker to savages, to offer terms of peace. Noble lord, you are in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons.

Again, thanks to GRRM's influence, Dany's and the envoy's titles are both announced as a formality, not as comic relief (at best) or as a sign of Dany's arrogance (at worst) like, for example, in her first scene with Jon Snow in season seven.

Also, this is not a key detail, but the Yunkish envoy's name was changed from Grazdan mo Eraz in the books to Razdal mo Eraz in the show. I don't see any reason why GRRM would change his name, which makes me question to which extent the show writers altered certain parts of GRRM's script to their convenience (and they certainly did, as I will show below).

RAZDAL: Ancient and glorious is Yunkai. Our empire was old before dragons stirred in old Valyria. Many an army has broken against our walls. You shall find no easy conquest here, khaleesi.

In the books, the Yunkish envoy speaks Valyrian like the Astapori did:

“Missandei, what language will these Yunkai’i speak, Valyrian?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the child said. “A different dialect than Astapor’s, yet close enough to understand. The slavers name themselves the Wise Masters.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

And yet, we are seeing the actors talk to each other in English, which is used in the show to indicate that the characters are speaking the Common Tongue. On its own, this is a superfluous change. Still, it's irritating that the show writers allow show!Dany and the Yunkish envoy talk to each other in English here and then will later prevent her from speaking to the freedmen in the same language (which she does in the books, because they also speak Valyrian) at court in episode 4.6. The implications that she's too removed from reality (and her subjects, as seasons five and six will imply), that she is actually quite similar to a master and that she should abide to the Meereenese traditions are all distasteful and completely out of line with what happens in the books. Unfortunately, it could be argued that the seeds of these negative implications are in this episode (though they only become negative in retrospect because of later events and not because of GRRM's writing).

Unsurprisingly, the Yunkish envoy's words are almost copied word by word from the books:

RAZDAL: Ancient and glorious is Yunkai. Our empire was old before dragons stirred in old Valyria. Many an army has broken against our walls. You shall find no easy conquest here, khaleesi.

“Ancient and glorious is Yunkai, the queen of cities,” he said when Dany welcomed him to her tent. “Our walls are strong, our nobles proud and fierce, our common folk without fear. Ours is the blood of ancient Ghis, whose empire was old when Valyria was yet a squalling child. You were wise to sit and speak, Khaleesi. You shall find no easy conquest here.”

Small changes are made in show!Dany's response to his statement, however:

DAENERYS: Good. My Unsullied need practice. I was told to blood them early.

“Good. My Unsullied will relish a bit of a fight.” She looked to Grey Worm, who nodded. (ASOS Daenerys IV)

In the books, this is a subtle but affectionate moment between Dany and Grey Worm. Dany is alluding to Grey Worm having previously told her that the Unsullied "thirst[ed] for blood" and that he hoped to show her that "the Unsullied learn the way of the three spears" (in stark contrast to the Yunkish bed slaves).

In the show, while the context surrounding show!Dany's mention of the Unsullied was changed from the books, I would argue that the scene is no less effective for it. It displays show!Dany's intelligence by having her recall Kraznys's advice and be intent on following it.

In both versions, the Yunkish envoy attempts to bribe Dany into leaving the city:

“And yet, why should we speak thus harshly to one another? It is true that you committed savageries in Astapor, but we Yunkai’i are a most forgiving people. Your quarrel is not with us, Your Grace. Why squander your strength against our mighty walls when you will need every man to regain your father’s throne in far Westeros? Yunkai wishes you only well in that endeavor. And to prove the truth of that, I have brought you a gift.” He clapped his hands, and two of his escort came forward bearing a heavy cedar chest bound in bronze and gold. They set it at her feet. “Fifty thousand golden marks,” Grazdan said smoothly. “Yours, as a gesture of friendship from the Wise Masters of Yunkai. Gold given freely is better than plunder bought with blood, surely? So I say to you, Daenerys Targaryen, take this chest, and go.”

Dany pushed open the lid of the chest with a small slippered foot. It was full of gold coins, just as the envoy said. She grabbed a handful and let them run through her fingers. They shone brightly as they tumbled and fell; new minted, most of them, stamped with a stepped pyramid on one face and the harpy of Ghis on the other. (ASOS Daenerys IV)

RAZDAL: If blood is your desire, blood shall flow. But why? 'Tis true you have committed savageries in Astapor. But the Yunkai are a forgiving and generous people. The wise masters of Yunkai have sent a gift for the silver queen. There is far more than this awaiting you on the deck of your ship.

DAENERYS: My ship?

RAZDAL: Yes, khaleesi. As I said, we are a generous people. You shall have as many ships as you require.

DAENERYS: And what do you ask in return?

RAZDAL: All we ask is that you make use of these ships. Sail them back to Westeros where you belong and leave us to conduct our affairs in peace.

In the show, the envoy offers her even more rewards than he had in the books; while the Dany of the books was offered "fifty thousand golden marks", show!Dany was offered an unspecified amount of gold that fills the deck of a ship and "as many ships as [she] require[s]".

In both versions, Dany declines the offer. Show!Dany is explicitly shown refusing it because of her moral duty towards the slaves (who, let's remember, come from lots of different societies and cultures in the books), which is a callback to episode 3.3:

Even if we don't have show!Dany attempting to spare the Astapori freedmen's lives like she does in the books, GRRM still hammers home that her ultimate goal is selfless - to free the Yunkish slaves and end slavery in the region.

Dany's "gift" to the Yunkish envoy was altered from book to show, but her sole request was largely kept the same:

DAENERYS: I have a gift for you as well. Your life.

RAZDAL: My life?

DAENERYS: And the lives of your wise masters. But I also want something in return. You will release every slave in Yunkai. Every man, woman, and child shall be given as much food, clothing, and property as they can carry as payment for their years of servitude. Reject this gift, and I shall show you no mercy.

“I have a gift for you as well.” She slammed the chest shut. “Three days. On the morning of the third day, send out your slaves. All of them. Every man, woman, and child shall be given a weapon, and as much food, clothing, coin, and goods as he or she can carry. These they shall be allowed to choose freely from among their masters’ possessions, as payment for their years of servitude. When all the slaves have departed, you will open your gates and allow my Unsullied to enter and search your city, to make certain none remain in bondage. If you do this, Yunkai will not be burned or plundered, and none of your people shall be molested. The Wise Masters will have the peace they desire, and will have proved themselves wise indeed. What say you?” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

I would say that these scenes have the same spirit, though there are some differences between them as well.

In the books, Dany tells the envoy that she'll give him three days to free the slaves only to deceive the Yunkish and attack them when they least expect it. This, as I've argued before, is no proof of Dany's "tyranny", but rather her prioritization of the freedmen's lives (who would have been slaughtered against mounted warriors if not in a surprise attack) over the nobility's, which is an attitude that she should have maintained throughout the rest of ASOS and the entirety of ADWD.

On HBO, show!Dany will not attack Yunkai in the same night, so having her give the master three days to decide what to do wouldn't have the same significance. One could argue that show!Dany is being more explicitly threatening than Dany ("Reject this gift, and I shall show you no mercy") during her interaction with the envoy, but this line is certainly not out of character for Dany, who tells Barristan that "Yunkai will have war" in the same chapter where her talk with Grazdan takes place.

There are key things in common between the books' depiction of the scene versus the show's as well: Dany promises that "Yunkai will not be burned or plundered, and none of your people shall be molested"; show!Dany's gift is the envoy's life "and the lives of [his] wise masters". Dany asks for as much "food, clothing, coin and goods" as the former slaves can carry "for their years of servitude" after three days; show!Dany asks for "every man, woman and child" to "be given as much food, clothing and property as they can carry for their years of servitude". These show lines exhibit that, ultimately, show!Dany is also primarily focused on freeing the slaves and on attempting to be as conciliatory as possible.

One small detail is altered from books to show regarding the envoy's answer to Dany's offer:

RAZDAL: You are mad. We are not Astapor or Qarth.

“I say, you are mad.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

In both versions, the envoy calls Dany mad, but Qarth is never brought up as an example of Dany's "treacherous" nature, only Astapor:

“You took Astapor by treachery, but Yunkai shall not fall so easily.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

“And yet, why should we speak thus harshly to one another? It is true that you committed savageries in Astapor, but we Yunkai’i are a most forgiving people.[”] (ASOS Daenerys IV)

This addition was most likely made because, on HBO, show!Dany locked show!Xaro and show!Doreah inside the former's vault to die. I suppose that it makes sense for the show writers to pay attention to their own continuity, though that makes me question why Kraznys and the other Astapori slavers weren't also aware that show!Dany was not (in their perspective) trustworthy by the time she arrived to negotiate with them. It wasn't convenient to pay attention to the continuity in the beginning of season three, I guess. I also doubt that GRRM wrote this bit of his own volition (unless he was told to do so).

Now we get to what some people tend to see as the most controversial parts of Dany's exchange with the envoy. On HBO, it's show!Dany's decision to take the envoy's gold; in the books, it's Dany's burning of the envoy's tokar:

RAZDAL: You are mad. We are not Astapor or Qarth. We are Yunkai and we have powerful friends. Friends who would take great pleasure in destroying you. Those who survive, we shall enslave once more. Perhaps we'll make a slave of you as well.

REZNAK: You swore me safe conduct.

DAENERYS: I did, but my dragons made no promises. And you threatened their mother.

“I say, you are mad.”

“Am I?” Dany shrugged, and said, “Dracarys.”

The dragons answered. Rhaegal hissed and smoked, Viserion snapped, and Drogon spat swirling red-black flame. It touched the drape of Grazdan’s tokar, and the silk caught in half a heartbeat. Golden marks spilled across the carpets as the envoy stumbled over the chest, shouting curses and beating at his arm until Whitebeard flung a flagon of water over him to douse the flames. “You swore I should have safe conduct!” the Yunkish envoy wailed.

“Do all the Yunkai’i whine so over a singed tokar? I shall buy you a new one ... if you deliver up your slaves within three days. Elsewise, Drogon shall give you a warmer kiss.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

People who think that the Dany of the books is more morally grey than show!Dany tend to use the event above as an example that supposedly "proves" their point, since Dany's burning of the envoy's tokar in the books doesn't happen in the show. Not only this conveniently ignores that the show cut so many of Dany's moments of compassion and self-deprecation and that it gave show!Dany many scenes that complicate her character's morality more than any from the books (e.g. her decision to feed one master to her two dragons arbitrarily), it also overlooks the fact that Dany uses her dragons to intimidate the envoy (rather than to punish him in any way). By making sure that he takes her seriously, Dany's threat of a "warmer kiss" becomes much more alarming, which is only necessary in a world where men think that it's normal to underestimate her and dismiss her as a "whore". More importantly, it must be remembered that Dany's threat to the envoy (who was never actually hurt) was made because she wants to free the slaves of Yunkai. All in all, considering a) the level of damage she caused (none), b) her selfless intentions and c) that we're talking about a book series/TV show full of rapists and murderers from a pseudomedieval world, this is not a morally grey action.

It must be noted, however, that GRRM himself observed that show!Dany's burning of the envoy's tokar was a moment cut from his original script and that he wishes that it had been included. I suppose I can understand why the author is frustrated by this particular change, since this has ramifications later when Yunkai remembers what happened to Grazdan and then refuses to accept any peace agreement until Dany marries another slaver.

Still, I think that the exclusion of this moment is compensated by this show change:

RAZDAL: Take the gold.

DAENERYS: My gold. You gave it to me, remember? And I shall put it to good use. You'd be wise to do the same with my gift to you. Now get out.

“You’ve soiled yourself. Take your gold and go, and see that the Wise Masters hear my message.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

In the books, Dany doesn't take the envoy's gold. In the show, however, she does.

Like with Dany's burning of the envoy's tokar, show!Dany's decision to take his gold is not really a morally grey action because it's motivated by (and will finance) her anti-slavery campaign.

Like with Dany's burning of the envoy's tokar, this decision leads many fans to judge show!Dany much more harshly than they should, as this stupid gifset shows. @yendany has already exhaustively laid out why neither Dany nor show!Dany (whose actions, albeit often undermined in comparison to her book counterpart, are still in keeping with Dany's motivations) are imperialists, so check out her metas about this issue.

By comparing these two scenes, my intent is to argue that the omission of Dany's burning of the envoy's tokar isn't that detrimental in the grand scheme of things. Its purpose was not to make Dany more morally grey as some people think, it was meant to complicate the negotiations of a peace agreement between Dany and Yunkai (which never occurs in the show). If they wanted something to complicate the peace agreement (which, again, was never added into season five), they could have brought up show!Dany taking Razdal's gold (which, while also not a morally grey action, would certainly piss the Yunkish slavers off), but they would have to have cared about adapting Dany's ADWD storyline well to think about that.

BARRISTAN: The Yunkish are a proud people. They will not bend.

DAENERYS: And what happens to things that don't bend?

This response from show!Dany portrays her as more unyielding than the books do. This is not necessarily a bad thing (and it's not as if Dany didn't struggle with accepting the slavers' actions, opinions and customs in the books as well), but it goes against how the books have Dany still developing her political values along the way based on her experiences. Also, while this original line is fine on its own, in light of the show's ending, it may have helped to portray show!Dany as inflexible enough to become a Well-Intentioned Extremist in the eyes of the show writers and some fans (we know, however, that this ending is OOC for show!Dany as well and that it carries many, many horrible implications).

DAENERYS: He said he had powerful friends. Who was he talking about?

JORAH: I don't know.

DAENERYS: Find out.

Again, is this from GRRM or the show writers? In the books, as I already said, Dany knows who the Yunkish's "powerful friends" are right away:

This was changed because, again, they want to make the events of ASOS Daenerys IV last for multiple episodes. Still, I wonder if GRRM cared enough to respect the show's continuity or if the show writers made changes to what he wrote.

Episode 3.8: Second Sons

We get back to D&D's writing of show!Dany with "Second Sons".

Scene 7

Remember when I said that we would get two scenes of Dany and her advisors assessing the enemy forces in the show (this only happens once in the books)? Well, we have reached the second one.

BARRISTAN: Men who fight for gold have neither honour nor loyalty. They cannot be trusted.

JORAH: They can be trusted to kill you if they’re well paid. The Yunkish are paying them well.

Show!Barristan's and show!Jorah's counsels above are show only.

It's not out of character for Barristan to distrust sellswords and men who don't behave in a way that is socially perceived as honorable in general. The problem is that the show writers have him express his feelings only for show!Jorah to question and refute them without show!Barristan being allowed to give any response, which undermines the latter (like they did in episodes 3.3 and 3.5 as well) in the eyes of the audience in favor of show!Jorah's perspective.

In the books, both Jorah and Barristan are shown distrusting sellswords, especially Mero:

But when Mero was gone, Arstan Whitebeard said, “That one has an evil reputation, even in Westeros. Do not be misled by his manner, Your Grace. He will drink three toasts to your health tonight, and rape you on the morrow.”

“The old man’s right for once,” Ser Jorah said. “The Second Sons are an old company, and not without valor, but under Mero they’ve turned near as bad as the Brave Companions. The man is as dangerous to his employers as to his foes. That’s why you find him out here. None of the Free Cities will hire him any longer.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

What's irritating about this change in show!Jorah's character is that Jorah's attempts to isolate Dany from other men are a key aspect of their relationship in the books. Having show!Jorah trust the sellswords if they're well-paid overlooks this side of their dynamic and portrays him as reasonable rather than often motivated by jealousy like he is in the books. It also helps to popularize stupid takes like this one.

I would also like to call attention to Dany's response to their advice in the books:

“It is not his reputation that I want, it’s his five hundred horse.[”] (ASOS Daenerys IV)

As I said before, I find it interesting that Dany isn't really concerned about the sellswords' lack of morals. Moments like this and the one later in ADWD Daenerys VIII when she finds that being “dishonorable and greedy” can be advantageous if she wants the sellswords to turn to her side show that Dany is actually quite down-to-earth and flexible and doesn’t suffer from moral righteousness like the show writers seem to think.

Show!Dany expresses a similar view by thinking that the Second Sons might turn to her side because she has a larger strength (more on that below). That being said, she is mostly shown listening and making questions:

DAENERYS: You know these men?

DAENERYS: Is he more titan or bastard?

DAENERYS: How many?

DAENERYS: Enough to make a difference?

The books don't show Dany being as dependent on her advisors' feedback as show!Dany is. I don't want to be overly judgmental of show!Dany, but this is something that irks me because Bryan Cogman has said in an interview that he thinks that Dany relies too much on Jorah to obtain information about Essosi culture. It's not untrue that he gives her knowledge that she doesn't have, but this statement ignores the fact that Dany applies that knowledge and has her own (because she's lived in Essos for longer than Jorah) and that she has her own opinions and makes many decisions on her own as well. The show often overlooks these nuances because the writers are intent on making her more ignorant and ineffective than in the books to "compensate" for her strengths and achievements (more on this later).

JORAH: Only by the broken swords on their banners. They’re called the Second Sons. A company led by a Braavosi named Mero, the Titan’s Bastard.

DAENERYS: Is he more titan or bastard?

JORAH: He’s a dangerous man, Khaleesi. They all are.

A rare occasion where show!Dany is allowed to have a sense of humor (which her book counterpart displays much more often). What's a shame is that the show writers only know how to write offensive jokes for her (see also this one) and for most of the other characters in general.

I also dislike the implication that show!Dany's joke indicates that she is underestimating the threat that the Second Sons pose. It's certainly not out of character for Jorah to be condescending towards Dany, but I don't think that's how the show writers intended his response to come across; as I've talked about exhaustively by now, the show writers have a much more positive view of Jorah than GRRM does.

Another change is that the show writers increased the size of the Second Sons. In the books, the Stormcrows (which was condensed into the Second Sons in the show) have five hundred men and the Second Sons five hundred as well, making them one thousand rather than two thousand men:

DAENERYS: How many?

BARRISTAN: Two thousand, Your Grace. Armoured and mounted.

As I will show later, this goes in line with the show writers' tendency to undermine Dany against the sellswords in comparison to the books. It also goes in line with how they previously undermined the value of show!Dany's possessions compared to what she has in the books to undermine to extent of her sacrifice.

DAENERYS: How many?

BARRISTAN: Two thousand, Your Grace. Armoured and mounted.

DAENERYS: Enough to make a difference? (after Barristan nods "yes") It’s hard to collect wages from a corpse. I’m sure the sellswords prefer to fight for the winning side.

JORAH: I imagine you’re right.

DAENERYS: I’d like to talk to the Titan’s Bastard about winning.

Like in the books, show!Dany is also aware that her military strength vastly surpasses that of the Yunkish's and that this might persuade the sellswords to turn to her side.

My gripe with the show (which I'll talk about below) is that it'll challenge the fact that show!Dany would indeed triumph in a battle against Yunkai more than the books ever did. There, the conflict for Dany was not about whether she would win or not (she certainly would), but rather that winning would have meant allowing more freedmen to die as collateral damage than she's willing to do. Once again, the show writers are going to miss the point, which makes show!Dany seem less effective than her book counterpart.

DAENERYS: I’d like to talk to the Titan’s Bastard about winning.

BARRISTAN: He may not agree to meet.

DAENERYS: He will. A man who fights for gold can’t afford to lose to a girl.

In the books, Jorah is the one who questions if the sellswords will meet with Dany:

“The slavers like to talk,” she said. “Send word that I will hear them this evening in my tent. And invite the captains of the sellsword companies to call on me as well. But not together. The Stormcrows at midday, the Second Sons two hours later.”

“As you wish,” Ser Jorah said. “But if they do not come—” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

Which is in line with his tendency to question her authority (though, to be fair, this is one of the least offensive examples). Meanwhile, Barristan is the one who respects Dany as his liege.

Dany's answer to her advisor is also different:

“They’ll come. They will be curious to see the dragons and hear what I might have to say, and the clever ones will see it for a chance to gauge my strength.” She wheeled her silver mare about. “I’ll await them in my pavilion.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

As I had already mentioned in my review of episode 3.7, this moment indicates that Dany learned important lessons with both the Qartheen and the Astapori, which is why she is sure that they will agree to meet with her.

On HBO, show!Dany brings up the fact that sellswords "can't afford to lose to a girl", which is true, but why would that be a reason for them to agree to meet with her? Isn't it more likely that, because she is a girl and, therefore, not perceived as a threat, they don't even bother going to meet with her because they (think they) know that she will lose? I don't really understand her point, which seems more like a typical moment of faux empowerment from this show.

BARRISTAN: Your Grace, allow me to present the captains of the Second Sons, Mero of Braavos, Prendahl na Ghezn, and, um…

DAARIO: Daario Naharis.

Much has been said about how none of the two show versions of Daario resemble his book counterpart in physical appearance (check out his description in the books here), so I'm only making a brief acknowledgement of that (admittedly radical) change in this review and leaving it at that. It's not really relevant to what I want to focus on (i.e., the changes in Dany's characterization and storyline from book to show) and I dislike how some people keep overfocusing on his looks to point out that Dany supposedly has a ~bad taste~ in men. It's much more important to acknowledge that Daario (both versions) gives Dany the chance to have sexual autonomy for the first time in her life.

MERO: You are the Mother of Dragons? I swear I fucked you once in a pleasure house in Lys. JORAH: Mind your tongue.

In the books, it's not Jorah who answers this asshole, it's Dany herself:

“I believe I fucked your twin sister in a pleasure house back home. Or was it you?”

“I think not. I would remember a man of such magnificence, I have no doubt.”  (ASOS Daenerys IV)

His next insult is also adapted word by word from the books, which hints at the show writers' priorities:

MERO: You’ll all be slaves after the battle, unless I save you. Take your clothes off and come and sit on Mero’s lap, and I may give you my Second Sons.

DAENERYS: Give me your Second Sons and I may not have you gelded.

“What say you take those clothes off and come sit on my lap? If you please me, I might bring the Second Sons over to your side.”

“If you bring the Second Sons over to my side, I might not have you gelded.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

Heck, the amount of profanity in the books is already problematic and the show makes it worse by adding even more:

MERO: Why? I didn’t mind hers. She licked my ass like she was born to do it.

MERO: Show me your cunt. I want to see if it’s worth fighting for.

MERO: After the battle, maybe we’ll all share you. I’ll come looking for you when this is over.

And that's not even considering that the sellswords get one scene for themselves in this episode (more on that later), ugh.

To top this all off, many of Dany's excellent comebacks to the sellswords' remarks in the books are erased in the show:

“Woman?” She chuckled. “Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man.” Dany met his stare. “I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, khaleesi to Drogo’s riders, and queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.”

“No need. After my eunuchs cut it off, I can examine it at my leisure.”

“So it is from you they get their courage?” Dany turned to Ser Jorah. “When the battle is joined, kill this one first.”

The last remark is included, but is also decontextualized in a way that prevents it from displaying Dany's competence like it does in the books. I'll get to it later.

DAENERYS: Give me your Second Sons and I may not have you gelded. Ser Barristan, how many men fight for the Second Sons?

BARRISTAN: Under two thousand, Your Grace.

DAENERYS: We have more, don’t we?

BARRISTAN: Ten thousand, Unsullied.

DAENERYS: I’m only a young girl, new to the ways of war, but perhaps a seasoned captain like yourself can explain to me how you propose to defeat us.

DAARIO: I hope the old man is better with a sword than he is with a lie. You have eight thousand Unsullied.

Like in the books, Dany inflates her number of Unsullied:

“Five hundred of your Stormcrows against ten thousand of my Unsullied,” said Dany. “I am only a young girl and do not understand the ways of war, yet these odds seem poor to me.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

“It is true that I am only a young girl, and do not know the ways of war. Explain to me how you propose to defeat ten thousand Unsullied with your five hundred. Innocent as I am, these odds seem poor to me.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

However, the show writers have show!Daario find out that show!Dany was lying about her military strength when this never happens in the books. Indeed, they seem hellbent on undermining show!Dany, since they even decreased her actual number of soldiers from eight thousand and six hundred in the books to eight thousand in the show.

This change heavily implies to me that the show writers believe that show!Dany is indeed "only a young girl, new to the ways of war" and that they want the audience to perceive her as one. (see also David Benioff saying that show!Dany goes "back to being a really frightened little girl" when her dragons are stolen in season two or Bryan Cogman's comment on her supposed ignorance of Essosi culture)

And this is just so wrong because this is the opposite of what GRRM is doing in the books.

As I already analyzed in this meta, in the books, Dany is the one who correctly guesses the enemy's military strength (yes, she is the one who gets to do that in the books, not Daario). Dany is the one who is shown applying her knowledge of the Dothraki forces to understand (on her own) that her freedmen are vulnerable against the sellswords. Dany is the one who applies her historical knowledge of the Second Sons to intimidate Mero. Dany is the one who gets to outline the tactical plan to take Yunkai (which the show writers will frustratingly have show!Daario concoct in the next episode). Dany is the one who stayed in the room and listened as her military commanders worked out the details to implement her plan. The latter case is particularly noticeable because GRRM cared to show Dany exposing her plan onpage, but he didn't care to write about how her advisors fleshed it out: that's because he prioritizes the development of his female lead character over his supporting male characters'. Despite certain flaws in his writing, GRRM goes out of his way to portray Dany as more than just a "young girl, new to the ways of war". It's a shame that the show writers can't do the same with her show counterpart.

The thing with Dany (both versions) is that she is a power fantasy in so many ways; she is the female protagonist of ASOIAF, she is genuinely kind and selfless, she is mother to three dragons and to thousands of people, she is a dragonrider and will become an action heroine, she is the only monarch with a claim to the Iron Throne who gets her own POV chapters, she is from a family renowned for their godlike beauty, she is a messianic hero, she fulfills so many prophecies, she has so many titles (and all of them were hard-won), she is the Fire of the song of ice and fire...

To many fans (including the show writers), she just can't be that big of a deal! There must be something wrong with her! If she is holding so much power, there must also be the risk of her becoming a tyrant. If she is a successful conqueror, she must also be ignorant (sometimes she is, sometimes she isn't, like a normal person) and arrogant (she isn't) and not think far enough ahead (she does). If she is a revolutionary who gets to enact her idealism (and deal with the negative results of her mistakes) onpage, she can't be the embodiment of hope for the future at the same time.

What I'm saying is that the show writers' tendency to undermine Dany's positive qualities and overstate her flaws (or create new ones or judge her by unfair double standards) mirror the ASOIAF fandom's and that the underlying assumption behind these attempts (i.e. that Dany can't be as great as she seems to be) is misogynistic at its core.

PRENDAHL: Our contract is our bond. If we break our bond, no one will hire the Second Sons again.

This is not a very important change in the grand scheme of things, but, in the books, Mero is the one who says something along those lines:

“You are worth fighting for, it is true,” the Braavosi said, “and I would gladly let you kiss my sword, if I were free. But I have taken Yunkai’s coin and pledged my holy word.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

Prendahl, on the other hand, brings up that the Stormcrows (which is his company in the books) has the support of Yunkish forces and predictably dismisses Dany as a "whore" in order to explain why he won't join her side:

“The Stormcrows do not stand alone [...] We fight beside the stalwart men of Yunkai.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

“What you are,” said Prendahl na Ghezn, “is a horselord’s whore. When we break you, I will breed you to my stallion.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

His anger at Dany stems from both his misogyny and the fact that Dany's sack of Astapor led to the deaths of some of his relatives:

“That Prendahl is Ghiscari by blood. Likely he had kin in Astapor.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

While these changes are not the most significant ones, it's noteworthy that Prendahl only appears in one scene seen through Dany's perspective in the books and receives more detailed motivations than in the show, where he gets a scene of his own (more on that later).

DAARIO: You have no ships. You have no siege weapons. You have no cavalry.

DAENERYS: A fortnight ago, I had no army. A year ago, I had no dragons.

While I like that show!Dany is at least allowed to offer a response to show!Daario's remark, this wasn't supposed to have happened in the first place. Neither Daario nor any of the men that Dany interacts with are shown questioning her in this way in the books. It's another infuriating attempt to undermine show!Dany. Moreover, she is the one who is shown to be conscious of her own limitations in the books, not Daario:

Why was this changed? I'm not sure. Because the show writers are deliberately trying to make show!Dany look worse than her book counterpart? Because they are unaware of the sexism underlying their writing choices? Because this makes show!Daario seem "more interesting" in his introduction (to the detriment of show!Dany's characterization)? All of these reasons or something else entirely?

Also, while I enjoy show!Dany's assertion on its own, I also know that it's probably informed by Benioff's false belief that Dany "feels like she has this almost divine mission and nothing is gonna prevent her from achieving it". The Dany of the books is neither prophecy-driven nor aware of her heroic destiny and, while it wouldn't be a problem if she were, it is a problem in the show because its writers constantly undermine, look down upon and villainize her character for her ambition, her drive and her self-awareness.

MERO: Show me your cunt. I want to see if it’s worth fighting for.

GREY WORM: My Queen, shall I slice out his tongue for you?

DAENERYS: These men are our guests.

In the books, as I've already mentioned in my review of episode 3.7 above, Grey Worm and Dany's brief interaction is different. I like how their show interaction displays his protectiveness of her, though it was unnecessary to add more sexual harassment to do so. Also, in the books, Jorah is the one outraged at Mero's treatment of Dany, though not primarily because she doesn't deserve to be treated like this, but rather because he wants to keep her to himself:

“I will like the taste of your tongue, I think.”

She could sense Ser Jorah’s anger. My black bear does not like this talk of kissing. (ASOS Daenerys IV)

DAENERYS: You seem to be enjoying my wine. Perhaps you’d like a flagon to help you ponder.

MERO: Only a flagon? And what are my brothers in arms to drink?

DAENERYS: A barrel, then.

MERO: Good. The Titan’s Bastard does not drink alone. In the Second Sons, we share everything.

In the books, Dany gives Mero a wagon of wine too, but there is a strategic reason behind why she does so - it makes them easier targets to attack at night:

“An hour past midnight should be time enough.”

“Yes, Khaleesi,” said Rakharo. “Time for what?” 

“To mount our attack.” 

Ser Jorah Mormont scowled. “You told the sellswords—”

“—that I wanted their answers on the morrow. I made no promises about tonight. The Stormcrows will be arguing about my offer. The Second Sons will be drunk on the wine I gave Mero. And the Yunkai’i believe they have three days. We will take them under cover of this darkness.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

In the show, there's no purpose behind her favor, which is ultimately just what it seems to be. Unfortunately, this goes in line with the show writers' tendency to diminish Dany's skills and agency, which I've already criticized above.

MERO: In the Second Sons, we share everything. After the battle, maybe we’ll all share you. I’ll come looking for you when this is over. DAENERYS: Ser Barristan, if it comes to battle, kill that one first. BARRISTAN: Gladly, Your Grace.

I've said above that Dany's order to kill Mero first in battle was decontextualized from the books to the show in a way that prevents it from showcasing her competence. Here's why:

“The Second Sons have faced worse odds and run. At Qohor, when the Three Thousand made their stand. Or do you deny it?”

“That was many and more years ago, before the Second Sons were led by the Titan’s Bastard.”

“So it is from you they get their courage?” Dany turned to Ser Jorah. “When the battle is joined, kill this one first.”

The exile knight smiled. “Gladly, Your Grace.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

As we can see from the quote, in the books, Dany orders Jorah to kill Mero first in battle to Mero's face in response to his poor attempt of self-aggrandizement. By doing so, she aptly manages to undermine him, which makes this a noteworthy display of her rhetoric skills and her self-composure.

On HBO, show!Dany tells show!Barristan (instead of Jorah) to kill Mero first as an emotional response to him slapping show!Missandei's butt. This change is both gratuitous (since it's more harassment that was never in the books to begin with) and superfluous (since we already knew that show!Dany has admirable moral principles, but we didn't get to know more about her capabilities like we do in the books).

Scene 8

This scene is pointless (for being about minor characters who were never meant to have scenes of their own and taking up time that could have been invested on show!Dany's development and storyline), redundant (for not telling us anything about them that we didn't already know) and offensive (for giving us more unnecessary profanity and female sexualization).

First, the scene doesn't even spend that much time on these commanders' decision-making, it's mostly about being gratuitous for its own sake:

MERO: She won’t talk so much when she’s choking on my cock. DAARIO: Eight thousand Unsullied stand between her and your cock. MERO: My cock will find a way. Tell him. Is there any place that my cock can’t reach? DAARIO: She’ll tell me whatever you pay her to tell me.

What does this say about Mero other than the fact that he's a misogynistic prick (which was already abundantly clear)? Why are we getting a scene featuring him that isn't seen through show!Dany's eyes?

PRENDAHL: That dragon bitch. She talks too much. DAARIO: You talk too much.

Like I said above, the show gives us more time with Prendahl and still manages to give him less detailed motivations than in the books (where he's not just driven by misogyny, but also by resentment for the deaths of his relatives during Dany's sack of Astapor).

MERO: Daario Naharis, the whore who doesn’t like whores.

DAARIO: I like them very much. I just refuse to pay them. And I’m no whore, my friend.

MERO: She sells her sheath, and you sell your blade. What’s the difference?

DAARIO: I fight for beauty.

PRENDAHL: For beauty?

MERO: We fight for gold.

DAARIO: The Gods gave men two gifts to entertain ourselves before we die, the thrill of fucking a woman who wants to be fucked and the thrill of killing a man who wants to kill you.

MERO: You’ll die young.

I'm gonna talk more about this when show!Daario meets with show!Dany in the next scene, but I really dislike the implication that he is only motivated to fight for show!Dany because of her beauty rather than because she has more chances to come off as the upcoming battle's winner. In the books, Dany's victory against Yunkai was certain (her main struggle, as I already said, was that she didn't want so many of her freedmen to die in battle).

Show!Daario's hedonistic nature is arguably in character with his book counterpart:

“...I count no day as lived unless I have loved a woman, slain a foeman, and eaten a fine meal ... and the days that I have lived are as numberless as the stars in the sky. I make of slaughter a thing of beauty, and many a tumbler and fire dancer has wept to the gods that they might be half so quick, a quarter so graceful. I would tell you the names of all the men I have slain, but before I could finish your dragons would grow large as castles, the walls of Yunkai would crumble into yellow dust, and winter would come and go and come again.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

But this is beside the point. Again, why are we spending time with him and these men when they were only meant to service Dany's development and storyline in the books?

Their strategic concerns are only briefly addressed and their plan to solve them is ridiculous and nonsensical:

PRENDAHL: What do we do about the dragon girl? We can’t beat eight thousand Unsullied on the battlefield.

MERO: There won’t be a battle, and we don’t have to deal with her eunuchs. We only have to deal with her.

PRENDAHL: She’s wellguarded.

MERO: Tonight’s a new moon. One of us slips into her camp past her Unsullied and her knights.

What's even stupider than the plan itself is the fact that it works in the show. Yes, the show validated Mero's plan, because it would rather show off his abilities rather than those of its female protagonist. To validate anything that Mero says or does reinforces how tone-deaf the show writers are to the unfortunate implications in their writing.

In the books, Dany's guards are actually competent and catch Daario when he attempts to meet with her, so this plan obviously wouldn't have worked there:

“The Unsullied caught one of the sellswords trying to sneak into the camp.”

“A spy?” That frightened her. If they’d caught one, how many others might have gotten away?

“He claims to come bearing gifts. It’s the yellow fool with the blue hair.”

Daario Naharis. “That one. I’ll hear him, then.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

To top it all off, their moronic plan is worked out while another woman is being sexualized just for the sake of it:

DAARIO: Which one of us?

MERO: Close your eyes, love. Three coins. A coin from Meereen, a coin from Volantis, and a coin from Braavos. The Braavosi does the deed. One for each of us, darling. No peeking.

DAARIO: Do you hear me? Follow my voice. I’m right here. You have something for me? Valar Morghulis.

I'm not trying to say that the books are free from gratuitous sexualization and misogyny; they are definitely not. That being said, the military commanders' and the envoy's slut-shaming of Dany stands in contrast with how Dany becomes a mother and a cult figure to the Yunkish freedmen by the end of the same chapter. This contrast could be interpreted as social commentary about how Dany falls prey to a Madonna-whore dichotomy based on whether she's loved or hated by the people of this patriarchal world. The moments where Dany interacts with these men in the books (and the show) add to such social commentary; this show only scene where these men interact with each other without show!Dany's presence don't have anything meaningful to say. It manages to be both pointless and offensive at the same time.

Scene 9

DAENERYS: Nineteen?

MISSANDEI: Yes, Your Grace.

DAENERYS: How can anyone speak languages?

MISSANDEI: It only took Your Grace a year to learn Dothraki reasonably well.

DAENERYS: Yes, well, it was either learn Dothraki or grunt at my husband and hope… What do you mean, “reasonably well”?

MISSANDEI: Dothraki is difficult for the mouth to master. So guttural and harsh.

DAENERYS: Drogo said I spoke Dothraki like one born to it. It gave him great pride.

MISSANDEI: Athjahakar.

DAENERYS: Athjahaka.

MISSANDEI: Athjahakar.

DAENERYS: Athjahakar. Well, I suppose I’m a bit out of practice.

MISSANDEI: Your High Valyrian is very good, Your Grace. The Gods could not devise a more perfect tongue. It is the only proper language for poetry.

I love show!Dany and show!Missandei's relationship and am up for any scene where the two get to interact with each other just for the sake of it. That being said, why does their first bonding moment have to be about how show!Dany's Dothraki language skills aren't as developed as she thought they were? Ugh, she is so lacking in self-awareness because she's too arrogant, amirite? Only a man who's sexually interested in her would praise her skills, amirite (more on this later)? The underlying implications in these show only additions are annoying and unintended at best and offensive and malicious at worst.

Besides, why couldn't they have had show!Dany and show!Missandei talk to each other about their difficult past experiences and how they empathize with one another? Why couldn't the scene have focused on showing that they are growing fond of each other or explored the interesting aspects of their book dynamic (With the necessary adjustments to fit show!Missandei's age, of course)? So much wasted potential.

Also, I hate that they have show!Dany say that her Dothraki is rusty, since it implies that she hasn't been interacting with her khalasar at all (unlike in the books, where she constantly talks to them and/or thinks of them and/or is shown to be in the same room with them).

I've already talked about how Daario never successfully invades Dany's camp in the books because her guards are actually qualified there and how this is another way to undermine her character's competence. I'm going to address other things now.

For starters, the setup of show!Dany and show!Daario's second meeting is changed from the books. There, she was fully clothed in the company of her retinue. On HBO, show!Dany is much more vulnerable: she is naked, taking a bath, with only with Missandei by her side and at the mercy of show!Daario's willingness to spare her. It's an unnecessary and offensive change made solely for the sake of hyping up show!Daario's character (at the expense of the female lead character's effectiveness).

I also want to focus on this part of their interaction:

DAENERYS: You were sent here to kill me? So why haven’t you?

DAARIO: I don’t want to.

DAENERYS: What do your captains have to say about that?

DAARIO: You should ask them.

DAENERYS: Why?

DAARIO: We had philosophical differences.

DAENERYS: Over what?

DAARIO: Your beauty. It meant more to me than it did to them.

DAENERYS: You’re a strange man.

DAARIO: I’m the simplest man you’ll ever meet. I only do what I want to do.

DAENERYS: And this is supposed to impress me?

DAARIO: Yes.

It's true that the Daario of the books also brings up Dany's beauty as a reason why he decided to join her, but we shouldn't take his word for granted. Unlike in the show, the books never question that Dany's odds of winning a battle against Yunkai are indeed very high, so it stands to reason that Daario turned to her side primarily because he's opportunistic and, as Dany puts it, "would sooner sup on gold and glory than on death".

Meanwhile, on HBO, because of the writers' numerous attempts to undermine show!Dany's military strength, skills, possessions and accomplishments, show!Daario's statement that he decided to join show!Dany because of her beauty seems like something that we're supposed to take at face value. This is gross and, in light of how they tried to imply that her subjects followed her primarily because of her beauty in the final season, predictable.

In the books, Dany is suspicious of Daario for a few reasons: she is initially afraid that he's spying for the sellswords and Yunkai (and that that would lead to her surprise attack backfiring) and considers the possibility that he's not really turning to her side, but rather that he simply wants to save his own skin. She accepts his service because she knows that he would have nothing to gain by betraying her (especially after he had already betrayed his fellow captains and after her dragons themselves failed to convey any hostile reaction against him), that his five hundred men would guarantee a victory against Yunkai and that she must be open-minded and trust other people, in spite of the prophecies about the upcoming treasons.

On HBO, show!Dany is also initially wary of show!Daario:

DAENERYS: You were sent here to kill me? So why haven’t you?

DAARIO: I don’t want to.

DAENERYS: What do your captains have to say about that?

DAENERYS: And this is supposed to impress me?

DAARIO: Yes.

DAENERYS: Why would I trust a man who murders his comrades?

However, as we can see, her questions are not the same. Unlike in the books, show!Dany is at show!Daario's mercy, so she questions why he didn't kill her right away (which signals, to her, that he might be trustworthy). Unlike in the books, show!Dany is (rightly) more doubtful of the killings of his fellow captains as indication of his reliability, especially since he could eventually do the same to her (though, again, he never does so when he has the perfect opportunity here) and since, unlike in the books, her dragons are not present in the scene (and, therefore, are not shown to lack any suspicion of him). It's certainly reasonable of show!Dany to accept show!Daario's service, though I wish she had more agency like she does in the books. It's irritating to see show!Dany being threatened (just for the sake of making a male supporting character seem more interesting to the audience) when she never had to be.

As a final note, Mero's early death is another change (along with Barristan's early identity reveal) that prevents Jorah's betrayal from being revealed the way it was in the books.

Main differences in GRRM's writing versus D&D's writing

GRRM's episode reinforces show!Dany's selflessness by showing her explicitly put her fight for the Iron Throne aside to focus on freeing thousands of Yunkish slaves and by having the Yunkish envoy offer her even more rewards than in the books (which highlights the extent of the sacrifices she's making for the Ghiscari slaves). D&D have undermined the extent of show!Dany's sacrifice in comparison to the books before and don't care about highlighting this aspect of show!Dany's character in episode 3.8.

GRRM's episode portrays show!Dany as competent and poised in her interactions with the Yunkish envoy. D&D's episode goes out of its way to undermine her and make the sellswords look better.

GRRM's episode features a new scene from the viewpoint of a minor character that adds to the storyline (because it highlights the oppression of the slaves). D&D's episode features a new scene from the viewpoint of minor characters that doesn't add add anything to the storyline (because it's focused on being gratuitous for its own sake).

With crucial differences like these, one can tell that show!Dany's portrayal would have improved if GRRM had been more influential in the show's writing choices. This is not to say that he's flawless or that the medium of a TV series doesn't have its own inherent limitations, only that he cares about her characterization, development and storyline in a way that D&D never did.

My comments on the Inside the Episode 3.7

Weiss: Daenerys is coming into her own in a powerful way in the season. She's always been very negatively predisposed towards slavery because she knows what it feels like to be property, I mean, she was a very fancy slave for all intents and purposes, she was somebody who was sold to another man, taken against her will and I think that her feelings about slavery have started to really inform her reasons for wanting the Iron Throne, it's finally started to occur to her that, if I want to take on this responsibility, it's almost - it's incumbent upon me to do something with it, and she sees this great wrong, probably the greatest possible wrong surrounding her, and she's decided that she's not just going to take back the Iron Throne because it's her right, she's gonna take back the Iron Throne because she is the person to make the world a better place than it is. She is going to not just take it, she's gonna use it for something greater than herself.

This is actually quite an insightful comment from Weiss's part; it's certainly much better than most comments (from him and especially from Benioff) that came before or that will come afterwards. I especially like that he acknowledges show!Dany's past as a sex slave and that he associates these past experiences with her decision to become an abolitionist.

I would only add three things: first, in the books, Dany is always aware that "it's incumbent upon [her] to do something with [power]", it's not something that only occurs to her after she becomes an abolitionist. Second, while show!Dany (and her book counterpart) imposes higher moral standards on herself than most characters of this series do, this doesn't mean that we should do the same. In other words, we shouldn't judge her too harshly if she ever decided to abandon her anti-slavery crusade, for she would simply be doing what any other feudal lord would do: focus on her individual goals. Third, to view show!Dany's attempts to do good (and her reflections about whether she's doing good) as something that anyone could or would do is dismissive of her character's individual principles and experiences and creates a lot of double standards against other characters.

Show!Dany's clothes

A Storm of Swords doesn't give us any description of Dany's outfits during the moments that the show is adapting in these two episodes, so I don't have much to comment. Here's a mosaic of all the outfits show!Dany wears during these two episodes:

I like that the white dress that show!Dany is wearing has a slave collar in homage to her freedmen, for what was once a symbol of oppression becomes one of social justice. Also, that dress is quite similar to show!Missandei's, making this another instance where they are seen with matching outfits:

Also, @slytarg has speculated that show!Dany's clothes in season three were a homage to Mother Mary, which is an interesting possibility.

#daenerys targaryen #asoiaf meta #asoiaf vs got #a storm of swords #asos vs got #daario naharis #s3

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devil-dxrling · 4 years ago

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SBR getting political, No.6

Pairing: Funny Valentine x Reader

Warnings: Smut, underage reader.

Words: 2162

Summary: He gets mad at her, but all’s well ends well.

He must have left the night before, maybe right after I fell asleep. I knew he had to take the train really early to San Diego. My mind had to unfortunately set him aside though, today was a special day because I had to dress up, get close to the rib cage, change my clothes to something good, and then catch Valentine’s attention. For half the journey I would wear a plain, loose white outfit. Shorts and a simple white shirt. Then, for the other half, I would change into something a bit more… Riské . It took me days to get to the motel where I would be stationed, but finally I arrived. The outfit I chose to wear was made of shiny, black latex and cooling material. It was a sweetheart neckline, skin-tight play-suit with booty shorts and accents around the waist and chest. It was corseted up in the back and was padded, making it more comfortable. I paired it with a pair of black, leather stiletto booties that were open-toed. Hoping I wouldn’t burn in the heat, I got onto my horse and followed a map. To be honest, everything happened extremely quickly, almost too quickly for me to comprehend it. I could hear chaos emerge from the horizon and saw a train, Valentine’s train. I sped behind a few buildings and carefully joined the plethora of people shooting at each other and being dicks. I might have been the only person to know where the rib cage actually was, it was to the left, not the right - so was his train. Luckily enough, I had a good idea of the cabin he was in, so I made my way closer until I spotted him, now to get his attention…

I pointed one of my custom revolvers to the train window where he sat, and shot. The window smashed open and his eyes shot to mine, menacingly. I smirked and lowered my gun, looking at him attentively as I saw his eyes slowly glide down my form. Smiling, I guided Dea closer to him. As I did, the train sped up, causing me to lean further onto the horse, arch out my back, point out my behind, and ride faster. My guns pointed, shooting at ugly red-necks that got in my way and distracting others as I fired up into the sky. Secretly, I would look back to the train, obviously he had to move, the window was smashed, but every now and then I would see him, chin resting on his hand, looking at me. Nice came upon us after a long day of riding and keeping up with a train. We had stopped at a city right next to the rib cage, but only I knew that. While everyone camped to the right, I stationed myself near the left, closer to the train. The good thing about wearing black was that you would blend in perfectly. When I got to the back of the train, there was a key, Funny has seen right through my actions. I opened the door to see a compartment that was much smaller than the other ones, but was still of adequate size. In the corner was a man, sitting on a chair; the room was dark and I couldn’t make out who it was, until he stood up and I had recognized his height immediately. Standing up, he walked to me and took my upper arm, pulling me into his chest. He was cold, and from what I could see, he held a stoic face, not calm and warm like it normally was, but stone and cold, and angry.

‘You really think you have the right to do these things to me,’ He whispered into your ear as he pulled you even closer. You could feel his dick, hard on your thigh, being uncomfortably enclosed by his pants. His undeniably pissed presence in the room made you quiver and shake in your boots. Turning to look up at him, you saw his face. I wasn’t even looking down to you, just straight forward. This brought you back down to earth. Reality hit you as you realized he was still the president, and you were nothing but scum compared to him. Throwing you off of himself, he paced towards the door, shut it, locked it, and locked the other one. Then, he turned to look at you, or more so in your direction, his head was still held high, refusing to look down.

‘Would you like me to pull down the blinds? Though, evaluating how you acted today during the race, I don’t think you even care if anyone sees us, do you? Today your actions were foolish, dim-witted, brainless and inept. You know how much shame could have been put onto me if they saw you looking at me like that? I showed how little respect you have for me, my reputation, and my reputability, and I just can’t let that happen anymore. And even now, what are you expecting? For me to please you? Well, you can take your whorish ass out of this train right now if that’s the sort of treatment you’re expecting! Get out before I rip this latex off your little, feeble body and toss you out there naked!’

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I stood up and stumbled to the door, but it was locked. You I heard a sardonic laugh behind me as he closed the space between us, keys in hand, he unlocked the door. But before I had the chance to step out he pulled me close to him and gave my body a rough shove out of the train, and into the sand, uttering his final critical blows to my already crumpled heart:

‘Remember little bitch, I’m the fucking president.’

And with that the door was slammed shut and locked. I turned onto my front and I brought my arms up to my head and just lay there, crying out my bitter tears, until I suddenly stopped and realized something that made me want to vomit. I slowly rubbed my thighs together, why the fuck did I actually seem to enojy being yelled at? Nonetheless, I had to get up and find something different to wear.

I decided on plain black, loose pants with a red, lace up, leather top that had corset detailing the back and in the front. I wore the same heels, couldn’t really find anything better, and my black black flat-brimmed hat I had on me at all occasions. In the morning, I was raring to go. Some mascara was still smudged my cheeks from all the crying I did last night, but I had to put that thought aside. I was at the front of the line when the race started, and I could bet my money on the fact that I wouldn’t have to kill anyone to slip in and out with the part. I had one of my closest friends with me to take care of my horse because when I got the part, I would transfer over to the train and leave Dea with him. As we closed in, there were 3 ways that could be taken. I knew they would all end up leading to the same place, but I also knew I had to go left. The train went through the middle, it had to stay neutral and not give anything away. Finally, as I had no more eyes on me, I maneuvered left, with a few dozen or so people and we rode further on. From here, my memory is fuzzy from here, I just remember seeing the bones and racing toward them like everyone else. It would have been complete carnage if I hadn’t rode up to the guy wearing blue and yanked it from him before riding off up a short little cliff. Looking behind me, I saw my friend and then smiled, I whispered to Dea, ‘Stop at the cliff amore mia, I’ll be back. Ciao.’ And with that we reached the low cliff and I boosted myself off the horse and onto the far back of the train. The rib cage in my left hand, the key from last night in my right, I unlocked the door and swayed in, locking it back up before anyone saw me. I knew I was about 2 compartments away from the last one. Slowly, I walked through the empty bedroom compartments and kitchens and restaurants and bars until I came to a normal sitting compartment that I heard talking from. Bravely, I knocked onto the door as I heard all the guards inside cock their guns toward the door. Then, there was a shallow ‘Come in,’ which was probably Valentine being done with me.

I peaked my head out of the crack and then shot away from the door, instead putting the rib cage out. ‘Sir, she had the rib cage.’

‘Of course she does. Get in here woman.’

I cheeped in and walked to sit in front of him, carefully handing him the rib cage. After examining it closely, he gave it to one of the guards (who put it into a vault) and then looked back up at me, crossing one leg over the other and intertwining his fingers together in front of his face. His left hand unwound to wave the guards away as they left and locked the door behind them. Leaning back into his chair, he pointed towards the drinks onto the table, eyes still narrowed, observing my every move.

‘I’m so--’ I was cut off by him.

‘Don’t be, I went a bit hard on you, I’ll admit, you need to be taught a lesson.’

I just nodded my head while I poured myself some bitter brandy and leaned back, bringing the glass up to my lips. Out of nowhere, he leaned in and moved his right hand up my thigh, slowly, looking behind him, to make sure the door was shut and that there was nobody there. He stood up and took the glass before I could finish it, moving me around the table and bringing me onto his lap, moving his hands skillfully across my curves and resting them on my thighs.

‘Do you want me to do it again?’ Did he know about how I felt last night? Did he see me rub my thigh together when I was in the sand? Did I really embarrass myself that much?

‘I saw you last night, on the floor, rubbing your pretty little thighs together, you liked to be berated, didn’t you, little slut.’ I was nothing like in those romance novels where the man would whisper sweet nothings into her ear, instead it was insults that burned me to my core. At one point I raised my hand up to punch him, but he grabbed my wrist and twisted it painfully. A cry left my lips as I felt myself get wet and try to squeeze my thighs together.

‘You want me to go back to being nice? Want all of this to stop? Want me to let you control the situation? You want me to submit?’ I seriously couldn't take any more of his deep voice whispering things into my ear, my mouth jumped towards his and we locked lips, roughly. We bit at each others lips in a dance of rough passion. Our clothes were scraped and he pushed me down onto the floor of the train, pinning my wrists above my head and diving down to leave all sorts of marks on my neck. I could feel the dumps below me as he continued to mark me as his own. I was brought back to reality as I felt him kiss my thigh and move up towards my wet pussy. I felt his tongue slowly move along my folds, slightly slipping in from time to time, but I wasn’t enough to bring me to orgasm. One of my hands slid down to grab his hair and push it down, but I was grabbed and twisted again, making me scream in pain and pleasure. Vision getting blurry, I felt him finally slip into me and stretch me out with his cock. It went on for about half an hour, he edged me twice, pissed me off to the point I slapped him across his perfectly chiseled jaw, and then let me cum, slapping my ass in return. He knelt there, once we were done, not even looking up at me, instead looking above me. I hauled my arm to take his chin and move his face down, so he could look at me. A smirk adorned his face as he got me to get dressed and sat me on his lap, giving a ring to his guards, telling them they could come in. He petted my head quietly as we sat there, I slowly drifted off to sleep. Wow, this really was one bizarre train of events.

#jojos bizarre adventure #funny valentine #x reader #smut #'SBR

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butterflydm · 6 years ago

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The Magicians Revisited: 1x03 Consequences of Advanced Spellcasting

Significant moments: Time has passed, as Julia is working on leveling up as a hedge witch and the Brakebills' first-years are testing to learn their disciplines after listening to Dean Fogg give a lecture about the dangers of learning magic too quickly and without proper training. Which is, of course, something that they deliberately dumped Julia into in this timeline in the hopes that it would give her… more power? A different perspective? Just to take her ‘off the garden path’, as Jane likes to say?

Both Quentin and Alice are assigned to the Physical Kids’ cottage - Alice because her discipline puts her there and Q because his magic is undetermined and “they have extra room”. Or, more likely, Fogg makes sure he ends up there specifically because Alice, Margo, and Eliot are there. Alice tells Q she wants to try the spell again so that she can contact her dead brother. Instead, Q suggests they try a locator spell first. Alice confides in Q more about her relationship with her brother - he’s the only one in her family that taught her magic.

Penny is unhappy about being put in with the psychics, and he and Q have a tense conversation about Q singing in his head and not having good enough wards around his thoughts.

Niffin!Charlie attacks some students; when Alice and Q are talking about it, Margo tries to join the conversation and Alice shuts her down hard, telling Q that she doesn’t trust Margo. Q tries to encourage her to talk to Margo, when Eliot shows up and takes Q off to talk in private. Eliot wants Q to help him with the missing book problem (the book that Kady stole) because the Physical Kids could get in trouble if it isn’t found before the faculty find out it’s missing.

Alice reluctantly asks Margo for help in finding out what happened to her brother and Margo points her in the direction of Emily Greenstreet, and doesn’t let Alice shake off her help. Again, this kinda adds weight to my suspicions that Margo actually was being genuine in her attempts to befriend Alice in the earlier episodes. She and Alice go to talk to Emily, who is reluctant to talk to them but tells them the story about her and Mayakovsky (not by name) and how Charlie tried to help her after her spell went wrong and she tried to kill herself at the fountain.

Meanwhile, Penny gets introduced to the Psychic house, meditates, connects with Victoria (not that he knows that yet), and travels for the first time. Hmm, I wonder if connecting mentally with Victoria, a practiced traveller, gave him a jumpstart on his traveling?

The book leads Q and Eliot to the bodega where Marina’s hedge witch group hangs out. Eliot has a low opinion of hedge witches that Q embraces readily; Q and Julia are very surprised to see each other again. Eliot recovers the book and Q and Julia have a nasty fight where Q shows an ugly trait that will show up again later in the season after the threesome — he basically acts Julia is to blame for him having feelings for her, much like how he later blames Margo and Eliot for ‘ruining his life’ by, essentially, being attractive enough to him that he cheats on his girlfriend with them. I don’t think this trait persists beyond that incident, if I recall correctly, so I think he learned his lesson at that point, but I will keep watch S2 and beyond to see.

Later Julia lies to James about what she’s been going through to try to put a patch over the damage in their relationship.

Dean Fogg and Sunderland tell Penny that he’s a traveler - he’s never heard of it. It’s the rarest of disciplines. Sunderland lets him know he can learn how to move between worlds.

Eliot and Q have a private talk about what happened with Julia, ignoring Kady banging on the door to the cottage until she busts it in.

Alice shows Q the niffin box but tells him she doesn’t want to use it. Q has been researching niffins and thinks there’s nothing they can do to help, but Alice has hope that they can reverse Charlie’s niffin state. They attempt the spell to help Charlie, it goes badly, and Q boxes him.

Alice leaves the school and Margo tries to stop her. So, yeah, on the whole, I’m gonna call it - Margo’s friendship overtures towards Alice were legit and Alice straight-up misjudged her.

Magic: 1. Julia learns hedge magic. 2. Quentin and Alice are tested for their disciplines. 3. Alice tries to unlock the Physical Kids’ cottage. 4. On Q’s suggestion, Alice bends light to blow open the door so they can get into the cottage. 5. Q uses a locator spell to try to locate Alice’s dead brother. 6. Woof fountain in Brakebills is enchanted; one of those enchantments is to make it bottomless. 7. A hand comes out of the fountain and flips off Alice and Q (they don’t see it). 8. Eliot taught Q a spell to shield his mind from psychics but it isn’t working well enough to keep his thoughts from bothering Penny. 9. Niffin!Charlie attempts to drown two kids in the fountain and leaves tons of the glass horses in Alice’s room. 10. Books are somewhat alive at Brakebills. 11. Julia works on a spell she’s learning from Marina. 12. Penny meditates and he hears Victoria’s voice for the first time, and travels. 13. Five years ago, Emily tried to use a spell to change her looks and it went horribly wrong. 14. Charlie used magic to try to fix her botched spell and niffined out from using too much magic. 15. Mayakovsky fixed her face after Charlie niffened out. 16. Eliot uses magic-sensing to see the wards on the hedge witch hideout. 17. It takes a month to enchant a niffin box. 18. Julia makes her key fob look like it’s from Narcotics Anonymous. 19. Alice tries to use magic to reverse Charlie’s niffin state. 20. Q boxes Charlie into the niffin box.

Relationships: Quentin & Julia: estranged friends Julia & James: established relationship -> going through a rough patch Quentin & James: estranged friends Quentin & Eliot: friends & confidantes Eliot->Quentin: crush (confirmed on E’s end) Quentin & Penny: antagonistic but not actively throwing punches Eliot & Margo: best friends Margo & Quentin: friendship; Q trusts her Quentin & Alice: early friendship Alice->Quentin: crush (heavily implied on A’s end) which likely amps up the anger at him for boxing Charlie Penny & Kady: romantic & sexual relationship Kady->Penny: manipulative relationship Margo & Alice: potential friendship; rejected by Alice Marina & Pete -> Julia: manipulative mentorship

Physical contact: Margo and Eliot snuggle at the party in the Physical Kids’ cottage. Penny uses a hand to press Quentin back against a tree while berating him for not having good wards. James reached around Julia to use the computer Julia is sitting at. Julia takes James’s hand and kisses him when she’s trying to convince him that everything is okay. Eliot grabs Q by the hand and shoulder to take him off to talk. One of the psychic kids touches Penny a couple of times on the arm as she shows him their dorms and guides him with a hand on his back until he tells her to stop touching him. Q touches Alice to get her attention while she’s singing to let her see he’s spotted Charlie. Alice holds Niffin!Charlie’s hands and it hurts her.

Character Notes: Alice Quinn: Physical kid: phosphormancy (bends light). Puts a fuckton of sugar in her coffee. Her favorite song is “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” from The Breakfast Club. Quentin Coldwater: “undetermined” discipline. Sings Taylor Swift in his head. Penny: Psychic discipline at first, but then discovers that he’s a traveler. Kady: Physical kid.

Students: Fifteen students and one dean have reportedly killed themselves in Woof’s fountain. We see some more second-years but don’t get names.

Timeline Notes: ~undisclosed amount of time passes~ It has been at least ‘weeks’ since Julia’s birthday, as that’s how long it took Julia to realize Q didn’t tell anyone she’d remembered about Brakebills. In Alice and Q’s conversation, she states that it’s been three months since Q learned about magic/started at Brakebills.

Ways the Loop-aware Messed With Our Kids: Q is assigned to the Physical Kids’ Cottage

#TMRevisited #tmwk2 #the magicians #long post #text post #keeping track of things

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zozammer · 6 years ago

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Learning Learning

Trying to create some power moves in the wake of a fairly incomplete week. They’re piling up. All my incomplete tasks and unmastered lessons. Feel like shit right now. But I need to make myself feel better.

“Don’t try so hard.”

“Don’t try to be someone you’re not.”

“If you can’t do it, give up!”

The last one is Freud.

Let me organise and list down the incomplete tasks for my readers:

1) finishing my very simple book that has been stretched for 2 months now.

2) a wedding invitation, though I’m making it right now. This has to get out.

3) Have not attended a single yoga class in the past week and the guilt is surmounting. I miss my mat, but the time isn’t right or I’m not making it right.

4) Have not gone for a swim since Tuesday and I seem to be falling back on my daily goals.

5) my drum lessons are ending with my current teacher due to personal differences. I am personally feeling a bit relieved, sad, and anxious at the same time. If I had to choose, I’d pick relieved.

I need to get better. Way better. I’m nervous and hopeful about working with a new teacher. Not enough hours in the day. Learning the drums and controlling anxiety lol. Nature clash.

6) Hunting for digs with my shoestring budget, and badgering my accountant for papers so I can get the ball rolling on my other pursuits.

7) Giving up on RTOM Black Hole mesh heads and a Mapex Mars, and settling for a dirt cheap student band set on a resale site because adulting and priorities. Waiting out the summer since moving in to a new place is going to ching ching ka-ching the way to the not-so-full-anyway piggy.

8) My pending submission for my online class is long overdue. It’s been three days.

9) My pending office work and deliverables are due Monday. That’s actually the most important thing.

I am falling back.

... I think the termination of my drum classes really kicked it for me. I’ve been trying to train my brain and my body, but I haven’t been able to get up before sun’s out and that’s made all the difference in managing my time.

On Learning:

I am currently trying to Pay Attention.

Thoughts, desire, analysis, rumination, lethargy, fear, negativity.

All these dull the brain. All these babies, I guilty of smoking in the past decade (no typo, that’s how I’m saying it). And now I’m trying to be a better student but it’s a bit hard remoulding a brain when you’re older (not impossible, very possible).

The pre frontal cortex needs activation. Well, a key to healthier firing and opening of neural pathways is optimism.

Now that I’m getting back up on the horse, it’s taking a lot more effort. I found my drum classes so frustrating today. I’m slightly turned off. Sometimes people can turn me off a subject. Fundamentally, haste is the enemy.

But I’m trying to change how I view learning, lessons, and growth. Which is why, the minute I got home, I googled a bunch of lessons online. I felt in control again. I told myself that it was time to grow thicker skin. Can’t do without it, sorry baby girl.

Self-study. Practice. Practice. Curiosity. Persistence. Presence (this one is so hard, but I’m so much better at this than I was 3 years ago). Visualisation.

And most importantly - stop talking. Stop thinking. Wastes energy.

The fact that my reading is poor currently, strikes much fear in me, because there’s just so much to learn, with that skill in hand. And I’m thirsty all the damn time for more knowledge and skills to pick up. My auditory, visual, and logical comprehension need boosts; I wonder if the flax seeds are helping. I really want to get better at it.

(... Since I want to, I will.)

http://english.glendale.cc.ca.us/speed1.html

bought a book by the Princeton Review last month. Will read it once I’ve actually finished the aforementioned tasks. Something tells me I have to start timing my activities in fascist fashion.

Is this post causing you anxiety? I apologise.

This -...

or let go.

Let go and see things as they are. Pay full attention.

Be present

in the here and now,

every day.

ffff....aaaaaahhh...... Let’s try.

Again tomorrow.

It’s a yogic practice to thank Patanjali for all that one learns in the day, and to try again tomorrow.

Trying to finish one or two of these tasks before I go to bed. Feel better about the week and the day. Completion is a great feeling. Get your shit straight, Keik.

#learning #time management #learning blocks #drums #mapex #adulting #get your shit straight

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westallenfun · 6 years ago

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Before the Hood - 2/6

For @jade4813 from @backtothestart02

…

Chapter 2 -

Slowing his horse’s gallop to a trot, Julian brought the animal to a stop in front of its stall in the stables and swung one leg over the side to drop down onto the ground, while his stable hand held his grand horse steady.

“Thank you, Felix.”

The boy nodded and guided the horse into its stall.

Julian moved almost immediately after that, heading straight into his residence. His tutor would be in the library, no doubt to teach him more Latin. He abhorred Latin. It had no purpose, given few people could read and only the friar and other clergymen could understand and speak it in turn. Julian had no interest in spending long hours inside the house of God, dedicating his life to that of blind servitude and sacrifice and celibacy. Despite the fact that his knighthood had been forced upon him by his father, one of the highest-ranking guards of the King, he enjoyed the respect it granted him. And training in the art of jousting and archery and sword fighting certainly beat any other job he could’ve been pushed into.

Women fawned over him. Men looked to him as a promising lad for the future. He would go to the Crusades soon, and when he returned, he would obtain everything he wished. Separation from his father, a marriage to the woman Barry Allen loved, and all the gold and jewels he desired.

Maid Iris was a pretty little thing. Her dark hair and skin accentuated by her light-colored dresses, pinks and purples and yellows, all that were of a satin material ever since she’d become Sheriff DeVoe’s charge. Julian went to visit her often, trying to make a good impression. She appeared to be uninterested. But he’d impressed Sheriff DeVoe with his knighthood and manners and shared knowledge of Latin – ironically. Julian knew before he left Collin Woods for the battlefield, he could convince the man to sign a contract in Iris’ place, so they would be wed immediately on his return.

Julian wasn’t blind to Iris’ lack of affection towards him. He knew she’d been closed-minded from the start, unwilling to even consider him an option, because her heart still lie with the foolish boy who’d swept her off her feet before her father and brother had abandoned her in their departure from Collin Woods. As pretty as she was, and as admirably stubborn, Julian had no problem admitting that he wanted her for himself solely so Barry Allen couldn’t have her.

The odds were already against Barry with the scandal of his father taking on a female pupil in the practice of medicine – and not only a girl, but a peasant. Her only place should be that of cooking and cleaning and to marry another peasant at her own level. The fact that another knight, Sir Ronald, had promised himself to her baffled Julian. But he supposed it was not his place. He was even more uninterested in Caitlin Snow than Maid Iris on her own merit. All he cared about was hurting Barry Allen, who had more to live for than he could have dreamed. And he deserved none of it. He took all of it for granted.

Barry not only was able to get by without a real job that would add to the income of his household, but he spent most afternoons shooting off arrows in the middle of the forest. Reckless! If you asked him. Especially since he knew for a fact the arrogant boy had no intention of ever fighting in the great war of their time, alongside their King, who he claimed to miss dearly with the idiotic Prince John in his place.

Henry Allen might’ve preferred his son practice medicine, but he did not disown him when he refused to do so. If Julian had refused knighthood his father would have done exactly that. Thrown him to the streets, because how dare he not want something that came with so much honor, so much nobility, that promised him victory in his life and all that he desired. Despite Julian warming to the idea, he would always be bitter and hold resentment against his father for the pressure he’d put him under. When Julian had announced he was pursuing Iris, his father had just barely approved, and only because her station had been lifted up in Joseph and Wallace West’s departure. He supposed he should be grateful for that. But he couldn’t. It was only another instance in which Sir David Albert reigned supreme.

His father had never mourned his wife or his daughter’s passing. He beat Julian when he caught him in tears over their deaths. Women were not meant to grow attached to, he would say. They were meant for cooking and cleaning and bearing children. In his wife’s absence, Sir David Albert had hired a maid, Louise. Only five at the time, Julian had spent the next eight years being raised by her until he was forced into knighthood by his father. He’d thought it would bring them closer, but it only made him all too aware of what a villain his father could be. It benefitted him that he and Sheriff DeVoe were of the same nature, but Julian swore he would never be like him. He would obtain Iris for himself, but he would never lay a harmful finger on her – something that could not be said of his father’s actions towards his mother.

If Iris did not wish to clean and cook and sew, Julian would find a maid who would do those things. And he would make her fall in love with him so that she would never want to leave, never cry in the dark when she thought he was unaware. He would overcome his father in that way and also leave Barry Allen a destroyed mess without the woman he loved. Would he come to hate his father? Would he turn on his mother for never trying to stop Henry Allen from tutoring a peasant girl? It didn’t matter. The key would be in seducing Maid Iris.

That was the most difficult task. If he couldn’t do it before they were wed, he would be sure to do it afterwards. Either by turning her against Barry or by making him disappear. The idea of killing or hiring someone to kill the young Allen appealed to him for only a moment before he realized that would be still worse than what his father had done. He would not become worse. He would be better.

But Barry still needed to be poison in Iris’ eyes or he needed to leave. Julian just didn’t know how to go about choosing the latter.

“You’re lost in thought,” his tutor said as he walked into the large, quiet room.

Julian came to a halt and nodded once.

“I am ready for my lesson,” he said.

His tutor gestured to a comfortable chair in front of him, beside which sat a table and piles of books for him to learn from.

“Something troubles you,” his tutor said, looking at him contemplatively.

“When does it not?” Julian asked rhetorically on a sigh, selecting a book and flipping through it to find where they’d last left off.

“Let’s talk about it.”

Julian paused and looked up at the inquisitive, wise, older man, and wondered how best to get out of this particular conversation.

“I won’t tell your father,” he said, setting aside his own book. “Your welfare is my top priority.”

Reluctantly, Julian closed his.

“That’s not what we pay you for.”

“Consider it charity then.”

“I don’t need your charity,” he spat, harsher than he’d meant to.

“But do you need someone to listen? To really hear you, Sir Julian?”

His lips thinned.

“Is it Bartholomew Allen?” he questioned. “Do you want what he has?”

“I am not envious of him if that is what you are asking. I have almost everything I desire, and soon I will have the final piece.”

“The affections of Maid Iris.”

“Her promise to marry.”

“She is willing?” his tutor asked, surprised.

Julian’s brows narrowed. “In time.”

His tutor analyzed him most uncomfortably, until Julian nearly stood to his feet and walked out of there.

“You want something else.” His eyes widened. “To destroy young Bartholomew and all he has.” He paused. “To kill?”

Julian was unnerved by how his tutor could appear to know so much about what he was thinking. There had been rumors of him being a wizard in another land long before he arrived in Collin Woods. Julian had not believed it. But at times like this he wondered.

“You presume too much. You should keep to your studies, and to teaching me mine.”

“Perhaps.”

Julian shook his head and opened his book again.

“Let us get on with the lesson. I will forget this talk, and you should too.”

“As you wish.”

When the two had found their place in the accurate book, Julian met his tutor’s eyes to wait for his direction.

“Tell me what is on your mind, my pupil.”

Julian licked his lips, hardly daring to ask. Once it was out, it was out. If his tutor had truly once been a wizard, it was possible he could grant his request.

“Something…other than murder, something…equally devastating.”

“Betrayal, you think,” his tutor said, then thought again when Julian looked to interrupt him. “The appearance of betrayal.”

“A farce.”

“Within the Allen family. A façade that destroys.”

“Mmm.” Julian nodded. “Yes.”

His tutor’s eyes locked on his, Julian felt for the first time not unnerved, but powerful.

Will you do it?

“Twelve lines down at the beginning,” he directed, and Julian lowered his eyes to the book.

He began to read the Latin words, aware all the time of his tutor’s eyes on him. An agreement had been made. He felt it in every fiber of his bones. Something dangerous was about to happen, and he was responsible for what would unravel, all by the workings of his presumably loyal yet mysterious tutor, Eobard Thawne.

…

Snuggled close to her love, his jacket spread over her shoulders to keep her warm, Iris relished the feeling of contentment that came with being in the presence of and so near to her darling Barry Allen. He was everything to her. He was security and love and happiness and everything she could have ever dreamed. Growing up she resented the fact that women were forced into servitude of their husbands, but as she fell deeper in love with Barry Allen, she knew she wouldn’t mind that one bit. She would make him new jackets and hats. She would cook him tasty soup and roast a nice, hot chicken. She would kiss his worries away and bear him many children. She would do everything and anything expected of her as a woman without complaint if it could be solely directed at her love, Barry Allen.

What’s more she knew if she did decide to toe outside the line and do something for herself, that her Barry would let her. Even more so, he would encourage it. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree, and both his parents were warm and welcoming and loyal to any cause they took up. After all, Henry Allen had taken on a peasant girl as his pupil. Not to spite his son, but because he saw a yearning in Caitlin Snow to learn the knowledge he had to give. He did not see what society bestowed on her but what she wanted for herself. Barry was every bit like his father, though he undoubtedly had a soft spot for his mother. Even if they were the poorest of the poor, Iris would want for nothing as long as she lived with Barry by her side.

But she knew the possibility of their happily ever after was a far and distant dream. She was kept under lock and key in the DeVoe household. Clifford was a resentful, greedy, arrogant man she detested. He did not beat her, nor his wife that Iris was aware of, but he spoke harshly and had an assuming air about him. In fact the only visitor that he allowed into the house as long as she’d been there was Sir Julian Albert.

Julian’s detest of Barry and vice versa was more than enough of a reason for Iris to dislike him, but his eagerness to impress her in a clear effort to win her affections disgusted her. He knew she loved Barry, and maybe that was why he had developed a sudden desire to see her. She knew it could only possibly be to win her hand and steal her away from Barry. But she would not be stolen away so easily, or at all. Even if she and Barry could never be together, her heart would never belong to another. Especially since Julian appeared to get on so well with Sheriff DeVoe. Never in her life would she consent to marrying him. He would have to take her by force, and she would not go quietly.

But she preferred to push those awful circumstances to the wayside when she was with Barry. When she was with him it was only them. She could pretend they were really together for everyone to see, that they weren’t worrying about who might catch them, that everyone was happy for their union and they were soon to be married.

But as light started to trickle across the sky in shades of purple, pink, red, and orange, Iris was forced back into the reality they lived in. And that reality was that they’d stayed out far too long. And if they were caught, the results would be devastating.

“Barry!” she whispered in a gasp, his jacket falling off of her as she sat up abruptly. “Barry! Wake up!” She shook him fiercely and finally his eyes opened.

“What…What’s going on, Iris?” He rubbed his eyes. “Why are you so-”

“It’s dawn!” she said, stumbling to her feet. “It’s not night anymore. It’s daybreak. If I don’t get back before the DeVoe’s wake up, I may never be able to see you again!”

The gravity of the situation made Barry spring up and take her hand. They ran through the forest, near the sounds of the birds so their running feet could be stifled by other morning noises. When they reached the fortress Iris was meant to be locked up in, Barry started to lift her up so she could find her footing and climb over the other side.

“Barry, wait.” She gripped his arms.

“Iris, we don’t have time. I can’t- I’m not going to be the reason I never see you again.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I don’t want to be the reason either,” she said, clutching his shirt tighter.

“Then don’t be,” he whispered, cupping her face to reassure her. “Climb over that wall, go to your bed, and sleep a few hours more. Pretend you’ve been there the whole night, as you always do, and tomorrow night we will meet at the lake again.”

“Even if it’s cloudy?” she asked on bated breath.

“Even if the earth is shaking and the heavens pour forth water from a thousand seas and everyone is watching, I will meet you at our place, and I will wait as long as it takes for you to come to me.”

“Oh, Barry.”

He kissed her. There in the wakening day, he kissed her hard, pulling her flush up against him, willing this to not be the last moment they shared. When they broke apart, he locked his eyes on hers, begging her to listen to him and follow through with what he asked.

“Go,” he said.

Iris swallowed and nodded, letting him help her up the stone wall. When her legs swung over to the other side, she looked down at him and he smiled up at her – a little one, to congratulate her on her little victory.

‘I love you’ on the tip of her tongue, she decided against it, choosing to believe they would see each other again. She used the vines and protruding stones to climb her way down until her feet touched the grass again. Then she turned around, quietly crossed the yard until she was inside. But when she opened the door to her room, she was stopped dead in her tracks. For there in the chair beside her window sat Marlise DeVoe.

“Good morning, Iris,” she said.

Iris didn’t move a muscle.

“I thought we should talk,” she continued, gesturing to a wooden chair across from hers.

“And if I don’t want to?” she said, indignant in a way she couldn’t be with Clifford.

Marlise smiled sardonically at her young charge.

“I really think you do.”

…

Barry’s heart was racing the whole way back to his house. The sound was so loud in his ears that he couldn’t even hear his own feet on the ground, which he no longer tried to conceal from any early morning risers.

They’d never got that close to being caught. Never.

They’d always been so careful. Meet up at the lake, spend some time getting lost in each other eyes and telling each other how in love they were, and then get back to their homes before anyone suspected a thing.

But this time, he couldn’t recall whose decision it was, but they had ended up lying on the grass in the warm summer air, and before either of them knew it, they had fallen asleep. It was probably the best sleep Barry had in a while if he was being honest. Even the sun stretching across the sky wouldn’t have been enough to wake him up with Iris cuddled in his arms.

So, in truth, they’d been lucky that Iris was a little more likely to startle herself awake when danger was imminent.

And it had been imminent. Barry just hoped it was a close call only and not the last time he’d see her. He didn’t want something terrible to happen to her in that house if she’d been caught. He never asked her about her experience there, not in the six months she’d been living there, but she didn’t volunteer information either, so he figured it either wasn’t that bad or it was bad enough that she didn’t want to talk about it.

He’d let it pass from his mind without a second thought before, but now he worried for her. He’d be going out of his mind with worry until nightfall when they would meet up again. If she met him at their spot, he could ask her what had happened, and hopefully she could soothe his worries. But if she didn’t…

Well, he didn’t want to think about that. Not now. Maybe he’d pester Cisco later in the day. He’d reassure him, right? It wasn’t as if he could go to anyone else. Cisco was the only one who knew about his late-night meetings with Iris, and he preferred it to stay that way.

Finally approaching his home and grateful to see his bedroom window still cracked open, he moved toward it, hoping to get inside unnoticed and a few more hours of sleep before he went in town to distract himself with repairs and babysitting.

The window squeaked a little, but his slim frame allowed him to slip inside and shut the window without alerting his parents who he assumed were still asleep in their bed. Kicking his shoes off quietly, he walked over to his bed and pulled back the covers, intending to will himself to sleep despite the sound of birds and the adrenaline from his taking Iris back to her residence energizing his mind.

But after he slipped into his bed and pulled the covers over him, yanking the drapes shut so he’d be able to shut out some of the light from outdoors, Barry realized he couldn’t hear the gentle snoring typical of his parents when they slept. Instead he heard murmuring from a nearby conversation. He held his breath, his first thought being if his parents knew too. What a thing it would be for both him and Iris to get caught because they’d foolishly fallen asleep in each other’s arms. He certainly wouldn’t be in physical danger from his parents. They’d likely just be worried for him and Iris. Still, it was something he’d been hoping to avoid.

Instead, when he went to his bedroom door and opened it a crack, Barry saw his parents in the living room talking. They were clearly tense, and he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but he leaned out a little into the hall – lucky to still be in the shadows – and focused his listening on the whispers coming from the distant room.

“Henry, are you sure?” Nora asked, wrapping a shawl around herself as she moved to shut the open front window.

“Yes,” he said, then nodded. “I know why you’re hesitant, why you worry. But I think we have enough saved up to keep us going.”

“For a while maybe, but-”

“These people need our care,” he persisted when she turned back to him. “And they can’t afford it. Those damn taxes are raised higher and higher every day.” One of his hands curled into a fist. “And that good-for-nothing sheriff of ours collects twice a week now.”

“I know,” Nora said on a soft sigh, placing her hand on her husband’s and slowly uncurling the tight fist, making him relax.

“Just a couple weeks,” he said, leaning his forehead against his wife’s. “With that much money still in their pocket, I can go back to charging a little so we can stay afloat.”

Nora swallowed hard. “And if not? What if the sheriff raises the taxes so the money they would’ve paid you still ends up in his pocket?”

Henry sighed. “Then Barry will have to get a job.” Nora opened her mouth to object, but he continued. “A real job, Nora. Not…babysitting and nailing some broken panels back on.”

“Henry.” She frowned, her brows narrowed in her son’s defense. “He does more than that, and you know it.”

“It doesn’t matter what he does!” Henry’s voice rose, and Nora placed her fingers across his lips, making a deliberate nod towards the hall.

“Your boy is still asleep,” she said in a hushed whisper.

Barry was grateful his mother hadn’t actually looked down the hall and therefore hadn’t noticed him. Or if she had, she hadn’t let on to his deep gratitude.

“He needs to get paid, Nora. Helping out the townspeople is all well and good, but he’s taking for granted the fact that I can support us and isn’t pulling his weight. He needs an income to contribute to the household. He doesn’t have one. There’s no back-up plan until he does. I won’t turn my patients away.”

Nora nodded, the end of the conversation in sight.

“P’rhaps it’s good he didn’t want to go into medicine then,” she said, trying to lighten the mood. “If you were both in the clinic giving free services, there’d be no back-up plan at all.”

Henry sighed.

“He just needs your approval,” she said softly, rubbing his back. “Tell him you love him and that you’re proud of him, and he’ll find a job that pays a wage.”

Henry groaned. “He’s too good, Nora.” He lifted his head to press a kiss to her lips. “Just like you.”

She smiled slowly. “You don’t think he’ll take a fair wage?”

“I think he has a heart of gold that loves to make people happy. And what makes people happier than free labor?”

Nora chuckled and leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder.

“Just have a talk with him, my love. He may be more willing than you think.”

Barry’s mind spinning, he stepped back into his room and shut the door. He should’ve known this might happen, what with the raising of taxes and his father’s gentle heart, his unwillingness to turn people away who truly needed him. In a way he was doing the same thing with the townfolk who needed assistance with their daily tasks. But his father was right in that they both couldn’t be servicing people for free. A doctor’s income was higher than most, but what they’d saved up wouldn’t sustain them for long if the taxes kept rising.

Barry would have to find a job – a real one – as much as he despised the idea. And he knew people wouldn’t be a fan of him asking for a wage when he’d gone around offering his services for free. But maybe they would understand. Everyone except the corrupt sheriff and prince, as well as the Ramon’s, appeared to have a decent opinion of him. Perhaps someone could offer him work with pay.

At any rate, it would be best to go around asking before his father broached the subject with him. Things would start harmonizing a lot quicker between the two of them if he was one step ahead of his worried father.

#the flash #westallen secret santa #westallen #barry allen #iris westallen #Iris West-Allen #backtothestart02 #fanfiction #the flash fanfiction #submission

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shipmistress9 · 6 years ago

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FTLOAP: Chapter 24: Do You Know The Line That I’d Walk For You

Title: For The Love Of A Princess

Fandom: HTTYD

Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.

Rating: Explicit

FF-net - AO3

Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11; Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Interlude 1; Chapter 15; Chapter 16; Chapter 17; Chapter 18; Chapter 19; Chapter 20; Chapter 21; Chapter 22; Chapter 23

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

AN: So someone over on @athingofvikings ' Discord server asked why there wasn't a discussion channel for FTLOAP, since he's my alpha reader. So he invited me to the server and made a channel for discussing my fic. The direct invite link can be found here or in @athingofvikings ' Tumblr sidebar on his Tumblr. Whoever is interested in discussing this fic, with me or others, is invited to join us there. :) I'll happily answer questions if there's something unclear or give additional background information (on Oswald for example), but won't give away major spoilers.

Further, I want to remind you that this is the second-to-last chapter before my NaNoWriMo-hiatus. There might be a small update somewhere in between, but else we start again in December.

. o O o .

“Odin, please, if you can hear my prayer, do something. Anything!”

Daniel’s lamentations made Astrid smirk, and she quickly lifted a napkin to dap her mouth in order to hide it. Eret and Dagur fared little better, both coughing to cover up their laughter, and Eret even slapped Dagur on the back as if he’d choked on something solid.

Around them, the feast for Dagur’s accolade was in full swing. In opposition to the smorgasbord in Eret’s honour, today a more formal meal was being served. There were beautifully arranged plates of meat, cheese, imported fruits, and pastries everywhere, with the guests sitting around tables of varying sizes all over the room, while servants bustled about, exchanging empty plates for fresh ones and filling orders for drinks. It was loud and frenetic, but to Astrid, it was a relief. No walking around, no bumping into other people, no need to avoid unwanted contact or company. Oh, sure, there would be mingling later, people leaving their tables to sit with others and have a chat. But Astrid planned to be long gone by then.

For now, she and her brothers sat around one end of the King’s High Table, separated from their fathers by a couple of empty chairs and from other tables by enough distance to keep other diners from easily overhearing them. It was a bearable setting for Astrid. Just like the night before, her father had offered her to leave once the formal part of the accolade was over, but today, she had refused. Her plan to sneak away to meet with Hiccup again still lingered in her mind, but this was Dagur’s big day, and she wanted to celebrate with him.

Even if, right now, celebrating meant Daniel was whining about how unfair the Gods and his Fate were.

“I mean,” Dagur said, still somewhat coughing and laughing, “you are the Crown Prince, right? You’re kinda important. Not to mention that you’re the one planning and deciding over these missions. Couldn’t you… I don’t know… just change those plans?”

“I only wish,” Daniel pouted. “But everything’s already been planned for months. I can order men to move, but logistics... that’s another thing entirely. Troops have already begun securing the general area and basic materials are en route to Loki’s Teeth. I wish I could rearrange things and start with Redpeak instead, but I fear I won’t get away with such a sudden change of plan. My decisions still should be sensible. You know, so people accept my leadership, and all? And overriding all the preparations we’ve made so far just on a whim wouldn’t be sensible at all.”

Astrid listened with a mixture of amusement and confusion, but when Daniel stopped his venting and returned his attention to his roast venison, she nudged Eret’s arm and asked, “What brought this up again? I thought he was done with this topic a month ago.”

Still grinning, Eret leant closer as if to whisper confidentially while still being so loud that there was no question whether Daniel would be able to hear him. “Oh, that’s Hiccup’s fault. During today’s training, he and Daniel ended up standing to the side and talking while Dag and I demonstrated stances to the lads. And apparently, Hiccup found yet another way to improve Redpeak in one of the books Daniel brought him from the library. Don’t ask me for any details, because I seriously didn’t understand a word when they were gushing about it over lunch. But now Daniel is desperate to get started with the improvements there instead of the repairs at the outposts around Loki’s Teeth.”

“And those improvements would be so useful come summer,” Daniel emphasised, pointing his fork at Eret as if that alone could prove his point. “A handful of men could easily hold that mountain path, and I’d have more spare men to send elsewhere. But the facts remain, I can’t change the plans anymore, not without a damn good reason. Besides, Uncle Spite has requested those repairs so often already, it’s about time we get them done. No, so long as no miracle occurs, Redpeak will have to wait until next year.” He sighed theatrically, which made everyone laugh again.

“Too bad being royal isn’t really about doing what you want all day, eh?” Dagur cackled, nudging Daniel in an attempt to cheer him up. It worked, to a degree at least, as Daniel snorted in agreement before stirring their conversation to a less frustrating topic.

Astrid fought to hide a grimace at Dagur’s words, but couldn’t keep her mind from wandering as the men began talking about this year’s recruits.

Doing what you want…

No, being royal really wasn’t about doing what she wanted, not at all. That was a lesson she’d learned very soon after she’d been supposed to start behaving like a royal. And these days, it was even worse. She didn’t even know anymore what she wanted.

Talking to Heather earlier had answered a few of her questions, though not all, and in addition, it had raised a couple new ones too. Some could only be answered once she and Hiccup were alone again, while others… Well, others, she had to answer for herself. Like the question what it was she wanted!

She wanted Hiccup and that foreseen future with him, wanted them bad. She would do nearly anything for that. But she still didn’t know what it was that was expected of her, what she would have to do.

Heather’s words kept whirling around in her head. ‘Don’t make a mistake you might regret.’ Astrid knew what she’d meant, and she wouldn’t… No, she definitely wouldn’t! Just like every young girl, she’d been taught what the changes of her body meant, how to cope with moon blood, and what it took to fall pregnant. That was a mistake she couldn’t risk. It would be a scandal, shaming not only her and Hiccup, but her father and Daniel as well. It would weaken the Crown, and that was something she couldn’t risk. She might hate being the Royal Figurehead, but that didn’t mean that she would willingly risk for the Kingdom and its people to drown in chaos.

So, what was it she was supposed to do? Hiccup had said that he had a plan, had promised that everything would work out. And she trusted him. She just needed to wait; he’d said he’d need time, after all.

The thought made her grimace though. Just waiting, hoping for his plan to work, and behaving as she should – not ruining anything until then… That sounded like a prudent plan, even though the thought alone made her shudder. She didn’t want to behave, to just sit and wait and do nothing.

But maybe this was what she had to do. Following the rules… Maybe it would be better to stay away from him until everything was settled. The correct way would be to wait. She knew she couldn’t risk falling pregnant, couldn’t… couldn’t actually have sex with Hiccup. But it was more than just that; even their secret meetings, their kisses and caresses, all that was against all rules already. It was wrong.

But how could something be wrong when it felt so… so right?

The men around her burst out into laughter and Astrid hastily chimed in with a low chuckle. She had no idea what they were talking about, but she at least wanted to try to keep up appearances.

Appearances… Doing what was appropriate… The thought left a strangely bitter aftertaste in her mind. Right from the beginning, that sentiment hadn’t applied to her and Hiccup. It wasn’t propriety that had let to their first meeting, not at all. Sneaking away against her father’s explicit wish, wandering around without the supervision of her brother or warder, spending hours chatting with a stranger, and secretly meeting and kissing him in a dark room – no, none of that had been appropriate. The rules of proper decorum didn’t apply to them, never had, so what was the point in trying to follow them now?

Swallowing, Astrid gazed at her hands, tightly wrapped around her glass of wine. No, the rules of society couldn't tell her what to do. Supposedly, those were Frigga's own rules, but it clearly wasn’t what the Goddess wanted from her, or else she wouldn’t have led her into Hiccup’s arms that way in the first place. So what should she do?

Once again, Astrid felt for the key beneath her dress, for the warm glow lingering in her heart – and fought back a sudden gasp of quiet laughter. Maybe that was it, maybe the answer was much easier than she’d thought. By binding her and Hiccup with a soulbond, the Gods had made all this a matter of the heart. So maybe this was her answer after all. She would just follow her heart and do what felt right. Sure, there were still lines she wouldn’t cross, but aside from that she would stop pondering whether what she did was right or wrong.

Smiling, she sighed, feeling as if an invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders. This was still not an answer to all of her questions, but it was a start. At least one question was easy to answer now. She would definitely try to sneak away again tonight.

A light nudge against her upper arm made her blink and look up. Once again, she’d drifted off into her own world, but quickly composed herself again when she noticed Eret’s concerned eyes on her.

“Is everything all right?” he asked, his tattooed chin pointing at her hand that still rested over her heart. “You’re doing that a lot lately; you’re not getting ill, are you?”

Hastily, Astrid dropped her hand and reached for her fork instead. Spearing a piece of venison, she tried to appear unperturbed. “Sure, I’m fine. Of course I am,” she replied cheerfully, chewed, then threw him an easy smile. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He gave her a long, indecipherable look. Once she thought he wanted to say something, but then he shook his head, more to himself than to her. “Never mind,” he said, and turned his attention back to Daniel and Dagur.

Odin, she ought to pay more attention to who might be watching her. Gulping, Astrid followed his example, and turned her focus back on her brothers and their conversation. From the few comments she picked up, they were discussing tactics for sea battles right now, and she tried to concentrate in order to make an appropriate remark somewhere. It was not a subject she was particularly interested in though, and her mind was in danger of drifting off toward a certain pair of green eyes again, when she was saved by the arrival of an unusual visitor.

“Good evening, Prince Daniel, Princess Astrid,” a voice like liquid silk sounded from the side. “Sir Eret, Sir Dagur.”

They all turned toward the newcomer, and then quickly rose to greet her.

“Fyrir Mala!” Daniel spoke first, bowing deeply. Eret and Dagur followed his example as Astrid curtsied appropriately, all murmuring greetings as well. “Good evening to you too, fair lady.”

The woman nodded, her short blond hair swaying only slightly. Daniel offered her the chair next to him, the heavy fabric of her black-and-golden dress rustling as she sat down. Astrid and the others took their seats again too, clearly puzzled by the Fyrir’s appearance. As highest member of the Order of Freya, she had little to no dealings with any of them. Not like Fyrir Throk, who worked in close relation to Daniel all the time when it came to the skirmishes in the West, or the Fyrir’s Gothi and Alvin, who regularly had dealings with the castle.

They all sat quietly, slightly stunned, as Daniel waved over a servant with a tray of wine glasses, handing one to the Fyrir.

“Thank you, your Highness,” she said formally, and took a sip of the wine. Astrid wondered what had made her approach them, and, judging by their expressions, Daniel and the others were wondering the same. But before either of them could ask, the Fyrir placed her glass back on the table and looked up at them.

“My congratulations to you for your accolade, Sir Dagur,” she said in her melodic voice. “And of course, to you too, Sir Eret. I beg your apology for only delivering it now.”

Both Dagur and Eret murmured a confused “Thank you,” sharing a puzzled glance, as the Fyrir reached for her glass again. Astrid understood them all too well; while the Fyrir’s words were adequate for the occasion, it was clearly not the reason for why she was here.

Daniel tried his best to awkwardly engage her into their conversation, commenting on the feast and the weather, but that only highlighted how there seemed to be no purpose in her approaching them. “As much as I appreciate the honour of your presence, fair lady,” he finally said more directly, glancing over to the other end of the table where their father and the two Grand Dukes were chatting amiably. “May I ask… to what we owe this honour?”

Fyrir Mala smiled in her usual, mysterious way that always made Astrid think of a cat; as if she knew a secret, but wouldn’t share it with anyone. Though truth be told, that probably wasn’t so far off. “I came to deliver a message. One of my Ástir asked me if I could do so, and I did not see a problem in fulfilling her request.” She turned her head toward Eret. “Cami sends her regards, Sir Eret. She asked me to thank you for the safe journey, and to inform you that she is settled now. She also wanted to extend an invitation to meet her on the day after tomorrow to you and… your friends?” Her voice perked up just a tiny bit at the end, turning her statement into a question.

Curious about what that could mean, Astrid turned to glance at Eret, and judging by the puzzled look on Daniel’s face, he was wondering too. But Eret had a huge grin on his face. “Thank you for delivering that message, Fyrir Mala,” he said, insinuating a bow. “I am glad to hear she settled in well. And as for the invitation–” he glanced at Dagur, who also wore a grin on his face, and at Daniel who shrugged and nodded slightly– “we accept it gladly.”

The Fyrir nodded, then turned to Daniel. “Will you be joining your friends, Milord? Or shall I inform Kaden that you are coming for a visit? She has no appointment for that day so far.”

“Ahm…” Daniel made, glancing at Eret and Dagur with a raised eyebrow. “I think I’d prefer Kaden’s company.”

Again, Fyrir Mala nodded as if she hadn’t expected anything else, then rose from her chair. “I will see you soon then, Milords. Milady.” She nodded to everyone in farewell, and then was gone just as quickly as she’d appeared.

“She’s an odd one,” Dagur murmured as soon as she was out of earshot. “Even for a woman. No offence,” he added, winking at Astrid, but then put on an overly dramatic expression. “But did I get that right, Daniel. You prefer some woman’s company over ours? I’m hurt!”

“Maybe there’s more, but he’s just not telling us,” Eret suggested, one eyebrow raised and with an insinuating grin.

Daniel groaned. “You’re horrible. No, there’s not more to tell. I just enjoy her company, okay?”

“Sure thing, we totally believe you,” Dagur teased.

“So, who is this Cami?” Daniel asked, turning to Eret and unsubtly changing the topic. “I don’t think I remember you ever talking about her? Is there something we ought to know?”

Astrid bit her lip, knowing that Daniel couldn’t be further off, but also glanced at Eret expectantly. She, too, was interested in his answer.

“Oh, no, not what you think,” Eret laughed. “She’s a good friend, but nothing more.”

Dagur snorted. “What, the daughter of one of the Stallari of Freya’s Order is ‘nothing’?”

Astrid’s eyebrows rose at that; the Stallari were the senior priests, directly under the Fyrir. And while internal Temple politics were complicated, as she knew somewhat from Heather occasionally telling small tales, that sort of family tie was nothing to sneer at. She glanced at the two Dukes’ sons and wondered for a moment if they were playing politics, or if history was going to repeat itself, or something else.

Daniel seemed to think that it was the first option. “Oh, look at you pair of social climbers!” he teased. “Which Stallari?”

“Eastervale’s. And it’s really not what you think! She spent the last couple of years learning to become a full Ástir. This year, she finished her education, and when the decision was made that she would move here to the capitol, I offered to organise for her to travel with our servants. I thought that would surely be much safer and more comfortable than making such a journey on her own. She’s also the one who smuggled Markor’s normal saddle for me.”

“I see. But are you telling me that you’ll only be chatting and drinking tea with her then?” Daniel asked, smirking. “I was wondering about the ‘bring your friends’ part. But in that case, I should tell Fyrir Mala to call off my appointment with Kaden so that I can join you after all.”

Dagur snorted in amusement, but if he wanted to say something, Eret beat him to it. “No, we definitely won’t be just chatting,” he chuckled. “But Cami is… well, she doesn’t mind me bringing friends. Dagur came along a couple of times when he came to visit Eastervale, and during the last few months, Hiccup met her occasionally too.” He shrugged. “She’s great.”

“Sounds like she’s going to be busy enough with you three then,” Daniel commented dryly. “So I’ll stick to my choice; I prefer a more intimate atmosphere with someone I know.”

Eret nodded, but when he answered, his words didn’t register in Astrid’s mind anymore. The mention of Hiccup had brought her thoughts about him back to the surface, and whatever bantering went back and forth between her brothers quickly faded into the background.

Of course, Hiccup had been with Ástirs, that was no surprise. It was custom, after all, that young men were brought to the Temple of Freya as soon as they ‘spilt their desire in their sleep’, although she had no clue what that meant. It wasn’t only to sate their desires though, but also to teach them the particulars about sex, so that they could ‘pass that knowledge on to their wives and their married life would be full of joy’. Or that was all she had ever learned. That she was not to ask any inappropriate questions and was to wait until she could ask them to her future husband.

She felt another smirk tug at her lips and quickly suppressed it. Oh, she could ask those questions to her future husband, alright. But the first and most important question was… what did she want to ask him? What did she want to know? What did she dare to ask?

Again, her hand wandered to her chest, not caring whether Eret or anyone else would notice. She just needed the support even that simple touch offered to cope with her thoughts. Astrid still wasn’t sure what she really wanted. Not actually having sex, that was for sure. But she wanted more than just the kisses they’d shared so far. And at the same time, she wasn’t even sure how much more she even could take, whatever it might be.

The thought of getting touched like that again still made her shudder. Despite her own assumption and Heather’s reassurance that… that it wouldn’t always be like what Harold had done, she was still nervous. What if she was broken, damaged beyond repair, could never stand a touch like that again? Would that change anything? And did Hiccup even want to touch her like that with how he was always pushing her back?

The questions kept whirling around in her mind, and it made her dizzy. But it also strengthened her resolve to sneak away and meet Hiccup tonight. She needed answers, and only he could provide them.

“I think I’d like to leave now,” she announced quietly as she noticed how the first guests started to leave their tables and meandered around. This was when she’d planned to leave anyway, and in the company of others, where she had to behave, she wouldn’t be any good for celebrating anyway.

“Of course,” Daniel nodded. He waved a servant over to send for Tuff, and then gave her a reassuring smile, the same expression she saw on Eret’s and Dagur’s faces too. They kept her company until Tuff arrived, warding off whoever wanted to approach them, and it made guilt rise inside her. They cared so much about her, tried everything to make her feel comfortable no matter how distressing the situation might be for her. It made lying to them so much harder. Sure, letting them assume that crowds of people bothered her wasn’t even a lie, but it also wasn’t the real reason why she wanted to leave. One day… One day in a far-away future, they would hopefully all laugh about it together…

When Tuff came to escort her back, her relieved sigh wasn’t a lie at all though. She just wanted to get away, from the people, the laughter, the tension and the lump that was forming in her throat, and toward the safety of a certain pair of warm arms.

Once back in her chambers, she proclaimed herself to be tired, and it didn’t take long until Ruff had her dressed for the night and she was lying alone in her dark bedroom. And she was nervous.

It wasn’t the same as the previous two times she’d snuck away though. Wringing the fabric of her blanket in her hands, she tried to lay out a plan for what she wanted to ask Hiccup. Approaching him with such a plea – breaching yet another rule by getting more physical than any unmarried couple should get – was huge; she knew that, and it wasn’t a step she took easily. But it still felt right. Hiccup was not like other men, she’d known that right from the first time she’d heard his voice. She trusted him. And just kissing simply wasn’t enough anymore.

Juggling all those thoughts in her head, she lay still, her heart racing, as she waited for the noises of Ruff and Tuff in their rooms to settle down. Anxiously, she waited for another half hour or so before she left her bed as quietly as she could and walked over to her dressing room on silent feet. With her ears perked up for any sounds, she pulled her hidden stash of clothes from behind one of the wardrobes and changed into the borrowed dress of a serving girl. Warm boots and a thick woollen cloak with the key to the castle’s sallyport in one pocket completed her outfit.

Only a couple of minutes later, she left her chambers through a servant’s entrance, and once she’d reached the more general area of the castle, she dared to breathe a sigh of relief. She’d escaped her guardians’ watch once again, and getting noticed in the general chaos around the still-ongoing feast was fairly unlikely.

Just like the last two times, Astrid escaped the castle without any trouble, and with nervousness churning in her guts, she made her way through the dark night toward the stables.

. o O o .

Hiccup lay outstretched on the blanket that marked his bed, arms crossed behind his head, and stared at the stable’s ceiling. He wasn’t waiting, he told himself. He didn’t know whether Astrid would come here tonight, so there was no point in waiting for her. He could just as well go to sleep; he’d wake up anyway in case she showed up. And yet, he couldn’t…

He couldn’t calm down enough to sleep, his thoughts and emotions too jumbled, just like they’d been all day. This morning, he’d woken up with mixed feelings already. The idea of spending the day at the fighting ground, of standing against young men who actually wanted to fight and who would – without a doubt – be stronger and more dexterous than him and his stupid leg, had made him nervous. But he’d also looked forward to watching Astrid as she demonstrated her skills with bow and arrow, to seeing her as the strong and confident person he knew she was deep inside. Eret had told him enough of the usual procedure, after all. These two reasons alone had been enough already to leave him torn, but to add to those, the prospect of spending an entire day in her presence without being allowed to even look at her too much… that had been daunting.

By the time he’d reached the garrison, he’d almost felt prepared though, but only to have everything come out differently anyway.

He hadn’t needed to fight at all, since the swordmaster had already validated his skills before. That had been good. And for the rest of the day, he’d tried to focus on that, on the positive. On not getting rammed into the ground by some overly eager heavyweight instead of the panic in Astrid’s eyes. On discussing his ideas for Redpeak with Daniel instead of going crazy over her absence.

She’d been so pale… Seeing her sitting in that carriage had made his heart sing, as always, but not for long. He’d seen the pain in her eyes, how her face had drained itself of all colour, how she’d trembled. Not hurrying toward her, supporting her… if had taken every tiny bit of self-control he’d been able to muster.

And then there hadn’t been any news about her at all anymore. Over lunch, Daniel had requested an update on how she was doing, but the servant had only been able to inform him that she wasn’t in her rooms, that her warder was with her, but that her maidservant hadn’t told them where they went. Daniel had thanked the man and had sent him away with a knowing smile that made Hiccup guess Daniel knew where she was and wasn’t worried. That was something, at least – but not quite enough to keep Hiccup from worrying for her too.

Not being able to help her – not being allowed to help her – it nagged at him. She was so tough, acting out her part despite all the pain and fear inside her, lying to those closest to her, just because of him… And all he could do when she needed him was standing unmoving and watch her suffer. If only there was something he could do for her, something to help her with her fears and struggles, just… just something!

But he couldn’t think of anything.

With a heavy sigh, he reached for the latest book Daniel had brought, a collection of maps of the Western Mountain Range with explanations and descriptions of the terrain, vegetation, and general information. Maybe this would be able to distract him from thinking about her all the time. At the very least, it would be helpful to know all this come summer, and would let him be even more of an aid for Daniel and the others.

For about half an hour, Hiccup forced himself to concentrate on the pages, successfully pushing all thoughts about Astrid into the back of his mind, before he heard the already so familiar noises from the stable’s entrance door. The unavoidable scraping of metal against metal, the careful rustling of fabric as she entered. In a heartbeat, he was up on his feet and out of his stall, an eager smile on his face when he spotted her.

She looked strange though, weirdly timid in the way she stood there, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, chewing her lip, her hands wringing the heavy fabric of her cloak.

“Hey,” he greeted her with a warm smile, amused by how different this greeting was from the one the night before.

“Hey,” she replied, her voice thin, barely more than a high whisper. She only glanced up at him once before her eyes dropped and a slight blush, barely noticeable in the dim light, spread across her cheeks.

This was not what he’d expected. But maybe, what had happened that morning had hit her harder than assumed. Concerned, he stepped closer, reaching to cup her face. “Hey, how are you? Is everything all right?” His question made a quick smile tug at her lips. Or maybe it was his touch, he wasn’t sure.

“Yes, I’m good,” she mumbled, leaning into his hand for a moment before sobering up again. It made him doubt her answer, especially when she looked up at him with an anxious expression. “I just…” she began anew, biting her lip again before she went on. “Can I ask you something?”

Frowning, Hiccup nodded, pulling her along to sit down on the straw bales in his stall. “Of course,” he replied sincerely. “Anything.” And he meant it. There was nothing he wanted to hide from her. The thought of her possibly asking after his past made him cringe a little, but if she wanted to know, he would tell her. Or try to, at least. But that wasn’t what she wanted.

“What… what is it that’s between us?”

Her question caught him completely off guard. Was she really asking that? Sure, they’d never really talked about it, but… but she had to know! Right…? “It’s… it’s a soulbond,” he replied carefully, not sure what her question was about or where she was going.

Astrid gazed at him with a weirdly pained expression, nodded, but directly shook her head. “I know but… This bond,” she mumbled, placing her hand over her heart in that gesture he was all too familiar with. “Is that… all?” There was a slight shimmer in her eyes as she glanced up at him again, making her look incredibly vulnerable.

But Hiccup still wasn’t sure what she meant. A soulbond was supposed to be the strongest and truest connection people could share; what else could there be that outranked that?

He lifted his shoulders, a little helplessly, so she went on, “I mean… Is that… all that’s between us? Just this bond, the Gods’ Will? You keep bringing it up, and I... I mean, I can’t compare this to anything else. I don’t know how it’s supposed to feel, but… but to me, it’s so much… more...“ she broke off, voice trembling, and finally he understood.

Her reluctance and that pained look she’d gotten when he’d brought up the bond the night before… It all made sense now.

Gasping out a shaky laugh, he slowly shook his head. “Oh Astrid,” he sighed, reaching out for her hand to entangle his fingers with hers – just like their lives were entangled into one thread too. How could she even think… “Of course, that’s not all! Astrid, I…” He trailed off, trying to find words strong enough to make her understand.

But even those too-weak words already seemed to be enough for her face to light up. “So, it’s not just that the Gods decided for us?” she asked for clarification, hope shimmering in her beautiful eyes.

It made Hiccup’s heart clench painfully. That’s what she’d been thinking, and because of his words, no less? “No, it’s not just that,” he clarified softly, squeezing her hand tighter. “Astrid, I’ve never felt anything even remotely close to this before. But it’s definitely more than just obeying to the Gods’ wishes. You… you’re like my personal sun, what makes my life warm and bright when I’d thought it would be misty darkness forever. And I don’t really care if it’s what the Gods want or not. It’s what I want. You’re everything to me.”

Joy sparkled in her eyes, and with something between a sigh and laughter, she leaned forward, almost threw herself into his arms even. Before he could do anything, her lips had found his, kissing him, short but hard. “It’s the same for me,” she gasped against his lips, still giggling occasionally. She was shaking, and he pulled her closer, tilting his head to kiss her more deeply in a slow and sensual manner. She complied without restraints until she sat in his lap once more, her hands in his hair driving him mad. Hiccup felt the usual heat build inside him, but fought to push it down in order to concentrate on her, on letting his lips and tongue move with hers.

Holding her in his arms like this, it was a wonderful feeling, especially after how worried he’d been for her all day. Just feeling her lithe body beneath his hands as they wrapped around her waist, knowing that she was all right. Inhaling her potent scent of mayweed, listening to her gasping for air as their kiss ended. Her warmth beneath the fabric of her dress, the way her body yielded, soft against his chest...

“How was your day?” he asked, retreating slightly to look at her. Forcing himself to focus.

“It was… okay,” she said with a shrug, absently fiddling with strands of his hair. She looked too tense though for her words to feel real.

“I mean, what happened at the fighting ground...” he asked carefully. He didn’t want to pry, but he wanted her to know that, with him, she didn’t need to act tough.

“Oh, that…” she smiled weakly, slightly shaking her head as she dropped her hands. “It was nothing. I just… overreacted, I guess. It was the place, Odin’s Tree, the memories…” Shivering, she shrugged. “And I feared… well, with how shaky my hands had been, I wasn’t so sure whether shooting an arrow at our future King with the goal to miss him would be such a good idea,” she added, laughing slightly. “Just imagine what would happen if I’d missed that goal?”

Hiccup nodded, understanding. “And afterwards?” he asked gently, not wanting her to linger on that thought. He could imagine all too well how much that idea must have scared her.

“I visited some friends,” she said, smiling absently. “Just getting on other thoughts, you know?”

“And did it work?”

“It did,” she nodded, then frowned. “Those other thoughts, though...“ Once again, she blushed, shyly peeking up at him as she bit her lips. “I… I’d like to try something… if that’s okay?”

Confused, Hiccup nodded. A smile tugged at his lips as she leaned closer to kiss him once more and it reminded him of that day after Eret’s accolade, where she’d said something similar. And just like then, he let her take the lead, only carefully kissing her back, and waited for what it was she wanted to try.

Blindly, she reached for his hand, and he complied as she lifted it to her chest, wondering. He could feel her hand over his heart, warm and soothing like so often before. Basking in their connection, feeling each other’s heartbeat while they kissed, it was a wonderful sensation, but nothing they hadn’t done before. So, what was it she wanted to–

Hiccup froze.

Astrid had placed his hand over her heart, as usual, but instead of the firm plain over her sternum, he felt… soft, yielding flesh, perfectly sized for his hand to cup and…

With a grunt, he retreated. He stared at her, at his hand on her breast, and back at her eyes. There was a strange expression in them; stern, but also pleading and insecure. Her hand that was firmly holding his in place even as he made a half-hearted attempt at pulling away, was trembling.

“Astrid, what…?” he gasped, head spinning. This was wrong, he couldn’t, mustn’t touch her like this, it wasn’t allowed, wasn’t…

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to put more force into pulling his hand away. Not with the vulnerable pleading look in Astrid’s eyes, and not with how… how good it felt. How right! So he just shook his head, over and over, disbelievingly, panting, his heart beating frantically.

“I just...,” Astrid breathed, her voice so weak that he could barely hear it over the blood thrumming through his ears. “I just want to know… I mean, if you don’t want to, you don’t-don’t have to. But… I just want to know… how it feels.”

A strangled groan escaped him. If he didn’t want to? Gods, if she knew just how much he wanted to! Without his help, his fingers flexed, and the little gasp she made in response almost made him lose every bit of coherent thoughts. Yes, he wanted to; wanted to touch her, feel her, draw more noises like that little gasp out of her. He wanted–

Desperately, he shook his head, yet was still unable to move his hand away. “Astrid, we can’t!” he implored, fighting for control over his body and mind. “It’s not right, too risky. What if–”

“None of this is right, if you ask anyone else,” she interrupted him. “Our kisses, our feelings, me being here…”

She had a point. But still.

“Astrid – that’s different. We–”

“I know,” she interrupted him again, voice trembling but with a little more vigour in it now. “And I don’t… I don’t mean…” She broke off, lips and eyes pressed shut for a moment before she looked at him again. “I don’t mean to go… all the way,” she clarified, another endearing blush spreading over her cheeks as she swallowed. “No… no getting naked and… that. I just want to know… how it feels when it’s you touching me… It’s supposed to feel good, right? I just want to know how it feels, or whether I’m broken...”

Understanding dawned on him, and he could only stare as his mind worked through what she’d said, what she meant.

She was afraid. Of course she was, she had been all the time. She was afraid of what had been done to her, of a repetition, of how that influenced her future. Broken… She wasn’t broken, and he knew that. If she had been, she wouldn’t have been able to stand any of their interaction.

Hiccup swallowed, eyes closed as he tried to think. He’d wanted to be able to do something to help her, so that she could overcome her fears… And here now, she asked him for this?

He shouldn’t give in. There was nothing but a very thin line between what she asked for and what would be too much. But he could see how scared she was, how deeply hurt she was by her fears. He’d wanted to be able to do something for her... Well, this he could do. For her, he could walk this line.

His free hand trembled as he reached to cup her cheek, tilting her head a little before he leaned in to kiss her, deep and slow, his hand on her breast moving with the same pace.

. o O o .

When Astrid had come here, she’d been incredibly nervous.

But now, pressed into the straw, she did not, could not feel any of that any longer.

She felt wonderful. Everything was so intense; his lips on hers, robbing her of her senses, his weight on top of her, barely supported on one arm, his hand on her breast, caressing and squeezing. The way their gasped breaths mingled. It was intoxicating.

A small part of Astrid wanted to laugh at herself. For all these weeks now, she'd marvelled about this strange feeling, this warm tingling in her belly that only Hiccup could elicit in her, had wanted more of it.

On other times, she’d wondered how making love would feel, whether she would be able to stand a man's touch, or whether her attackers had ruined that for her.

But now, she understood. Now, she realised what that tingling sensation was as it grew with every single one of Hiccup's touches, became stronger, hotter, more, until it seemed to consume her, robbed her of all senses, and ruled her every thought.

Oh yes, she would have laughed at her own stupidity if only she'd had the mind for it. But instead, she moaned against Hiccup's mouth as his thumb brushed over her breast, over her nipple beneath the dress. It was such a light touch, and yet so powerful, so overwhelming. She arched up, seeking more, and felt his lips stretch into a grin.

His motions grew stronger, his whole body moving against her, with her, and she wrapped her arms around his waist just to have something to hold on to. It was maddening, wonderful, and her only regret was not to have done any of this sooner.

Eventually, Astrid became too distracted by all those sensations to keep kissing him, and he seemed to fare little better. His lips brushed over her face, her neck, leaving damp spots of condensed breaths and distracted licks in their wake. Her hands clenched, crunching up his tunic and slowly pulling it upwards. Eventually, her hands touched the bare skin on his back, smooth, but damp with sweat. Again, her hands clenched as his tongue left a damp spot just below her ear, her fingers digging into his back. It made Hiccup groan against her neck, the sounds vibrating through his entire body.

Despite her spaced-out mind, his reaction thrilled her. Because he'd reacted to her. She had drawn that sound out of him. Curiously, her hands wandered on beneath his tunic, gliding over more skin than she'd cared to think about so far but found utterly irresistible to touch, Hiccup's continuing groans spurring her on even more.

Soon, he was moving more and more rhythmically, rocking and grinding their bodies together. Her skirts, squished between them, were completely rumpled, but Astrid couldn't care less, the sublime sensation of them being so close on so many levels robbing her of every other thought.

“Ahh-strid!” he moaned, then suddenly let out a wild howl, muffled against her neck. His whole body seemed to twitch and shake, pressed so tightly against her that she could feel how his muscles flexed, even through their clothes.

It bewildered Astrid, but only lasted a couple of seconds. Then he stilled, panting ragged breaths, his body trembling but otherwise unmoving.

“Hiccup?” she asked, confused as she let her hand glide over his back again. “Are you all right?”

He made a low noise, something between a groan and a whine, and pushed himself up on shaking arms to gaze down at her. He looked… strange; face slack with his lips parted, his eyes blown wide, dark, and with an almost… scared expression in them.

“Oh, Gods...” he gasped, slowly shaking his head, then awkwardly rolled off her and sat up. Groaning, he buried his face in his hands, mumbling words she couldn’t quite understand.

Astrid sat up too, watching him. She was confused, didn’t understand what just happened. Why had he stopped? And what had happened to him? “Hiccup, what–” she managed to get out, reaching out her hand to touch his shoulder, but didn’t continue when he lifted his head to throw her a pained look.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, visibly fighting between leaning into her touch and scooting away. “I’m so sorry, that shouldn't have… Freya, forgive me, I didn’t mean to…”

“Hiccup, what happened?” she demanded, now a little scared herself. What had brought on this sudden change?

But again, Hiccup just gave her that pained look. “I’m sorry,” he said instead of an answer. “I just… hope... I hope that it was, was okay? For you, I mean?” He swallowed nervously. “I mean... I know you didn’t... Gods, did that help... help answer things?”

Astrid nodded, getting more confused with each word he said. Okay wasn’t the right word though. It had been fantastic. She still felt as if her body was singing, blood thrumming through her, seeking more of his touch. It hadn’t been enough.

“Good,” he murmured, shoulders slumping. “But this was a bad idea. I never should have let it come this far, should–” Once more, he broke off and shook his head.

Astrid felt the urge to crawl over to him, to embrace and kiss him, to tell him that it was okay. But she didn’t even know what it was that bothered him. Had she made some mistake?

“I-I think you should go back,” he finally said, more firmly than anything he’d said before. “You really shouldn’t be here, it’s too dangerous. Too risky. Yeah, you should…” He fought himself up on his legs, holding one hand out to help her up as well.

Bewildered, she followed him as he led her to the door. He walked a little strangely, but that might be because of his leg. She pondered offering her help to massage it again, but decided against it. Hiccup seemed sincere in wanting her gone. Meticulously, he checked her dress and hair for stray bits of straw and did his best to straighten out the wrinkles in her skirt. Then he declared her good to go, and opened the door for her.

Astrid hesitated though, throwing him another puzzled look. “Hiccup… I’m sorry if I did something wrong, I didn’t mean–”

“No, no,” he cut her off. “No, you didn’t… Gods, no, Astrid. It was my mistake, my responsibility… I’m sorry!”

None of this made sense…

“Are we… good?” she asked cautiously, eyes burning with the threat of tears. She didn’t want to cry, but, Gods, she was so confused.

But to her relief, Hiccup’s features softened. He made a cautious step toward her, and after hesitating for the briefest of moments, took her into his arms. “Yes, we are,” he reassured her, even pressed his lips to her forehead. “We are good, always. But you really ought to go now.” He let go of her, and she made a few steps toward the door, but then turned toward him again.

Let your heart guide you.

Before he could react, she had crossed the distance between them once more and stretched to press her lips to his. Her hands were curled around his sharp jaw, cradling him, holding him.

For the blink of an eye, she thought he would resist, would pull away. But then he leaned in, his arms wound around her waist, his lips parting easily for her. He kissed her back with all the abandon she’d hoped for, the sudden tension between them simmering down into the background.

When they parted, Hiccup gave her an apologetic but warm smile. “We’re good,” he repeated, voice sincere and thick.

Astrid nodded, smiled tentatively, and then turned to hike back to the castle.

But she still had no idea what just happened.

. o O o .

This chapter was one of those I had in mind for ages. I'm pretty relieved that it's done now, even though I feel like it didn't end up quite as I wanted it to... But then, it never does...

What are your thought about the part at the beginning, their conversations and Mala? And what about the Hiccstrid part? Some bits still feel a bit rushed to me, sorry there...

Next chapter

#for the love of a princess #hiccstrid #hiccstrid fanfiction #hiccstrid fluff #hiccstrid lime #hiccstrid smut #Is that already smut?#httyd #httyd fanfiction #httyd fandom #royalty au #hiccstrid royal au #medieval au #Hiccstrid Medieval AU

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sanddancingwithanxiety · 6 years ago

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Updates

So pretty much since the start of November we have not been great lol

Like there was the night justin told me we were moving so I got 0 sleep and then I saw Taylor Swift the night after and the concert was delayed by 90 minutes and we had to pick up my bff’s boyfriend from the train station and blah blah by the time i got to bed it was super late and then my dumb bodyclock wakes me up at weekday time (6am) no matter how late I go to bed cos it’s hypersensitive to brightness or something

So anyway I got like 2 hours sleep that night and then had a lesson on a super hot morning, like it was 35 degrees at 10

So I rode shit that day and kept going to like stop in the one shady patch in the arena to have a freaking break

And i swear to god if i have ONE shit day it’s like my body only remembers that way of riding and I have been struggling to undo it EVER SINCE. And like I had that one ride to last like 2 weeks, like that was my only lesson that weekend and then I hadn’t ridden since the weekend before that and then I didn’t get a ride until the weekend after. So anyway

a) the next time I got on he kept going to stop in the same shady spot, and would just lock onto these super slow joggy western pleasure type steps and just get really awful. Justin was like errr he looks uneven when he does that and i was like DON’T YOU FUCKIN DARE START

b) i suddenly forgot how to use my outside aids? Like i was just unable to ride him truly into a contact and i just could not get him off my legs or keep his shoulders, like we RARELY fall out through the shoulder these days and holy shit it’s been a mess and i have had to retrain myself so bad. I still don’t really know if it’s that i’m giving too much with the outside rein and pulling on the inside because my leg is backing off on the inside? And then we’ve been having these weird moments of he would slow and do that awful trot into a corner and then race off down the longside so i’ve had to seriiously work on my timing this week to make sure i’m pushing him into that corner but then half halting at precisely the right point to make sure he doesn’t run as he comes out. And he’s been weird in the contact, like slightly bearing down so the reins gradually get longer and longer but then when i go to shorten them he just giraffes which is normal for him in the snaffle but not so much in the double. I’m just not as good at preparing him atm.

Anyway my riding has not been what it was and it’s been a fuckin mission but remembering how tf i was doing it last month

But a couple of things that have worked

-Adding rein when I add leg to get him forward, he will not push into nothing

-Very consciously remembering to add outside leg which is somehow the key to getting my outside rein to do what it’s told - i think because i try to lean a bit to the inside to get weight into my inside leg, and then using the outside leg makes me straighten from shoulder down to my heel so it all just works and stops me crossing that fuckin outside rein over his leg

-Basically have to think passage when I ride the whole time to get a powerful trot and solid contact

-Thinking about turning half a metre in from the long side has been super helpful and stopped him from falling out so badly, like just make sure my outside aids don’t get lazy and just let him hit the corner and turn because he has to and then wonder ?? why does my horse slow and get scary into the corner ?? no clue?? lmfao

-Sitting right from the start and being confident that he will get that rhythm back, i just need to not let off but not get aggressive about it

Anyway that’s us, I have a lot of video (not my best by far lmfao but meh it’s a work in progress) . Basically if i have one bad day and don’t ride for a bit then it takes me like 6 rides in a row to start to improve lmfao.

#arthur diaries

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backtothestart02 · 6 years ago

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25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction: Day 21 - Before the Hood [2/6]

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing.

...

Synopsis: AU - Before he donned the name Robin Hood, his name was Barry Allen, and all he wanted was to be with his love, Iris West.

...

Chapter 2 -

“Thank you, Felix.”

The boy nodded and guided the horse into its stall.

Julian moved almost immediately after that, heading straight into his residence. His tutor would be in the library, no doubt ready to teach him more Latin. He abhorred Latin. It had no purpose, given few people could read and only the friar and other clergymen could understand and speak it in turn. Julian had no interest in spending long hours inside the house of God, dedicating his life to blind servitude, sacrifice and celibacy. While his knighthood had been forced upon him by his father, one of the highest-ranking guards of the King, he enjoyed the respect it granted him. And training in the arts of jousting, archery and sword fighting certainly beat any other job he could’ve been pushed into.

Women fawned over him. Men looked to him as a promise for the future. He would go to the Crusades soon, and when he returned, he would obtain everything he wished for. Separation from his father, a marriage to the woman Barry Allen loved, and all the gold and jewels he desired.

Maid Iris was a pretty little thing. Her dark hair and skin were always accentuated by her light-colored dresses, pinks and purples and yellows, all made from satin ever since she’d become Sheriff DeVoe’s charge. Julian went to visit her often, trying to make a good impression. She appeared to be uninterested. But he’d impressed Sheriff DeVoe with his knighthood and manners and shared knowledge of Latin – ironically. Julian knew before he left Collin Woods for the battlefield, he could convince the man to sign a contract in Iris’ place, so they would be wed immediately on his return.

Julian wasn’t blind to Iris’ lack of affection towards him. He knew she’d been closed-minded from the start, unwilling to even consider him an option, because her heart still lay with the foolish boy who’d swept her off her feet before her father and brother had abandoned her. As pretty as she was, and as admirably stubborn, Julian had no problem admitting that he wanted her for himself solely so Barry Allen couldn’t have her.

The odds were already against Barry, with the scandal of his father taking on a peasant girl as his pupil in the practice of medicine. Her only place should be that of cooking and cleaning before marrying another peasant at her own level. The fact that another knight, Sir Ronald, had promised himself to her baffled Julian. But he supposed it was not his place. He was even more uninterested in Caitlin Snow than Maid Iris on her own merit. All he cared about was hurting Barry Allen, who had more to live for than he could have dreamed. And he deserved none of it. He took all of it for granted.

Barry not only was able to get by without a real job that would add to the income of his household, but he spent most afternoons shooting off arrows in the middle of the forest. Reckless, if you asked Julian. Especially since he knew for a fact the arrogant boy had no intention of ever fighting in the great war of their time, alongside their King, who he claimed to miss dearly given that the idiotic Prince John was in his place.

Henry Allen might’ve preferred his son practice medicine, but he did not disown him when he refused to do so. If Julian had refused knighthood, his father would have done exactly that. Thrown him to the streets, because how dare he not want something that came with so much honor, so much nobility, that promised him victory in his life and all that he desired. Despite Julian warming to the idea, he would always be bitter and hold resentment against his father for the pressure he’d put him under. When Julian had announced he was pursuing Iris, his father had just barely approved, and only because her station had been lifted after Joseph and Wallace West’s departure. He supposed he should be grateful for that. But he wasn’t. It was only another instance in which Sir David Albert reigned supreme.

His father had never mourned his wife or his daughter’s passing. He beat Julian when he caught him in tears over their deaths. Women were not meant for one to grow attached to, he would say. They were meant for cooking and cleaning and bearing children. In his wife’s absence, Sir David Albert had hired a maid, Louise. Only five at the time, Julian had spent the next eight years being raised by her until he was forced into knighthood by his father. He’d thought it would bring them closer, but it only made him all too aware of what a villain his father could be. It benefitted him that he and Sheriff DeVoe were of the same nature, but Julian swore he would never be like him. He would obtain Iris for himself, but he would never lay a harmful finger on her – something that could not be said of his father’s actions towards his mother.

If Iris did not wish to clean and cook and sew, Julian would find a maid who would do those things. And he would make her fall in love with him so that she would never want to leave, never cry in the dark when she thought he was unaware. He would overcome his father in that way and also leave Barry Allen a destroyed mess without the woman he loved. Would he come to hate his father? Would he turn on his mother for never trying to stop Henry Allen from tutoring a peasant girl? Whatever happened, the key would be in seducing Maid Iris.

That was the most difficult task. If he couldn’t do it before they were wed, he would be sure to do it afterwards. Either by turning her against Barry or by making him disappear. The idea of killing the young Allen, or hiring someone to do it, appealed to him for only a moment before he realized that would be worse than what his father had done. He would not become worse. He would be better.

But Barry still needed to be poison in Iris’ eyes or he needed to leave. Julian just didn’t know how to go about choosing.

“You’re lost in thought,” his tutor said as he walked into the large, quiet room.

Julian came to a halt and nodded once.

“I am ready for my lesson,” he said.

His tutor gestured to a comfortable chair in front of him, beside which sat a table and piles of books for him to learn from.

“Something troubles you,” his tutor said, looking at him contemplatively.

“When does it not?” Julian asked rhetorically on a sigh, selecting a book and flipping through it to find where they’d last left off.

“Let’s talk about it.”

Julian paused and looked up at the inquisitive, wise older man and wondered how best to get out of this particular conversation.

“I won’t tell your father,” he said, setting aside his own book. “Your welfare is my top priority.”

Reluctantly, Julian closed his.

“That’s not what we pay you for.”

“Consider it charity then.”

“I don’t need your charity,” he spat, harsher than he’d meant to.

“But do you need someone to listen? To really hear you, Sir Julian?”

His lips thinned.

“Is it Bartholomew Allen?” he questioned. “Do you want what he has?”

“I am not envious of him if that is what you are asking. I have almost everything I desire, and soon I will have the final piece.”

“The affections of Maid Iris.”

“Her promise to marry.”

“She is willing?” his tutor asked, surprised.

Julian’s brows narrowed. “In time.”

His tutor analyzed him most uncomfortably, until Julian nearly stood to his feet and walked out of there.

“You want something else.” His eyes widened. “To destroy young Bartholomew and all he has.” He paused. “To kill?”

“You presume too much. You should keep to your studies, and to teaching me mine.”

“Perhaps.”

Julian shook his head and opened his book again.

“Let us get on with the lesson. I will forget this talk, and you should too.”

“As you wish.”

When the two had found their place in the accurate book, Julian met his tutor’s eyes to wait for his direction.

“Tell me what is on your mind, my pupil.”

Julian licked his lips, hardly daring to ask. Once it was out, it was out. If his tutor had truly once been a wizard, it was possible he could grant his request.

“Something…other than murder, something…equally devastating.”

“Betrayal, you think,” his tutor said, then thought again when Julian looked to interrupt him. “The appearance of betrayal.”

“A farce.”

“Within the Allen family. A façade that destroys.”

“Mmm.” Julian nodded. “Yes.”

His tutor’s eyes locked on his, Julian felt for the first time not unnerved, but powerful.

Will you do it?

“Twelve lines down at the beginning,” he directed, and Julian lowered his eyes to the book.

…

Snuggled close to her love, his jacket spread over her shoulders to keep her warm, Iris relished the feeling of contentment that came with being in the presence of and so near to her darling Barry Allen. He was everything to her. He was security and love and happiness and everything she could have ever dreamed. Growing up, she resented the fact that women were forced into the servitude of their husbands, but as she fell deeper in love with Barry Allen, she knew she wouldn’t mind that one bit. She would make him new jackets and hats. She would cook him tasty soup and roast a nice, hot chicken. She would kiss his worries away and bear him many children. She would do everything and anything expected of her as a woman without complaint if it could be solely directed at her love, Barry Allen.

Julian’s disdain of Barry and vice versa was more than enough of a reason for Iris to dislike him, but his eagerness to impress her in a clear effort to win her affections disgusted her. He knew she loved Barry, and maybe that was why he had developed a sudden desire to see her. She knew it could only possibly be to win her hand and steal her away from Barry. But she would not be stolen away so easily, or at all. Even if she and Barry could never be together, her heart would never belong to another. Especially since Julian appeared to get on so well with Sheriff DeVoe. Never in her life would she consent to marrying him. He would have to take her by force, and she would not go quietly.

“Barry!” she whispered in a gasp, his jacket falling off of her as she sat up abruptly. “Barry! Wake up!” She shook him fiercely and finally his eyes opened.

“What…What’s going on, Iris?” He rubbed his eyes. “Why are you so-”

“It’s dawn!” she said, stumbling to her feet. “It’s not night anymore. It’s daybreak. If I don’t get back before the DeVoes wake up, I may never be able to see you again!”

“Barry, wait.” She gripped his arms.

“Iris, we don’t have time. I can’t- I’m not going to be the reason I never see you again.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I don’t want to be the reason either,” she said, clutching his shirt tighter.

“Even if it’s cloudy?” she asked on bated breath.

“Oh, Barry.”

“Go,” he said.

“Good morning, Iris,” she said.

Iris didn’t move a muscle.

“I thought we should talk,” she continued, gesturing to a wooden chair across from hers.

“And if I don’t want to?” she said, indignant in a way she couldn’t be with Clifford.

Marlize smiled sardonically at her young charge.

“I really think you do.”

…

They’d never gotten that close to being caught. Never.

So, in truth, they’d been lucky that Iris was a little more likely to startle herself awake when danger was imminent.

“Henry, are you sure?” Nora asked, wrapping a shawl around herself as she moved to shut the open front window.

“Yes,” he said, then nodded. “I know why you’re hesitant, why you worry. But I think we have enough saved up to keep us going.”

“For a while maybe, but-”

“I know,” Nora said on a soft sigh, placing her hand on her husband’s and slowly uncurling the tight fist, making him relax.

“Just a couple weeks,” he said, leaning his forehead against his wife’s. “With that much money still in their pocket, I can go back to charging a little so we can stay afloat.”

Nora swallowed hard. “And if not? What if the sheriff raises the taxes so the money they would’ve paid you still ends up in his pocket?”

Henry sighed. “Then Barry will have to get a job.” Nora opened her mouth to object, but he continued. “A real job, Nora. Not…babysitting and nailing some broken panels back on.”

“Henry.” She frowned, her brows narrowed in her son’s defense. “He does more than that, and you know it.”

“It doesn’t matter what he does!” Henry’s voice rose, and Nora placed her fingers across his lips, making a deliberate nod towards the hall.

“The boy is still asleep,” she said in a hushed whisper.

Barry was grateful his mother hadn’t actually looked down the hall and therefore hadn’t noticed him. Or if she had, she hadn’t let on, much to his deep gratitude.

Nora nodded, the end of the conversation in sight.

“Perhaps it’s good he didn’t want to go into medicine then,” she said, trying to lighten the mood. “If you were both in the clinic giving free services, there’d be no back-up plan at all.”

Henry sighed.

“He just needs your approval,” she said softly, rubbing his back. “Tell him you love him and that you’re proud of him, and he’ll find a job that pays a wage.”

Henry groaned. “He’s too good, Nora.” He lifted his head to press a kiss to her lips. “Just like you.”

She smiled slowly. “You don’t think he’ll take a fair wage?”

“I think he has a heart of gold that loves to make people happy. And what makes people happier than free labor?”

Nora chuckled and leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder.

“Just have a talk with him, my love. He may be more willing than you think.”

Barry’s mind spinning, he stepped back into his room and shut the door. He should’ve known this might happen, what with the raising of taxes and his father’s gentle heart, his unwillingness to turn people away who truly needed him. In a way he was doing the same thing with the townsfolk who needed assistance with their daily tasks. But his father was right in that they both couldn’t be servicing people for free. A doctor’s income was higher than most, but what they’d saved up wouldn’t sustain them for long if the taxes kept rising.

Barry would have to find a job – a real one – as much as he despised the idea. And he knew people wouldn’t be a fan of him asking for a wage when he’d gone around offering his services for free. But maybe they would understand. Everyone except the corrupt sheriff and prince, as well as the Ramons, appeared to have a decent opinion of him. Perhaps someone could offer him work with pay.

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

#25 days of westallen fanfiction #westallen secret santa #westallen #fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #for jade4813

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 7 years ago

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The New World - Part 7

Here is the FULL chapter for part 7! As always, thank you for reading it, this series is easily becoming one of my favorites to write!!

Daryl x Reader, Maggie X Glen, Ezekiel x everyone, Rick x Michonne x Carl

Warnings: Language, Canon-divergence, Character death, Comic storyline crossover

Word Count: 4268

Rick’s pace quickened as it rounded the corner and approached the outside of the cell. Sasha stood against the wall, her gaze off in the opposite direction. The sound of Rick’s boot steps snapped her back to attention, making her stand taller at the door.

“He up?” Rick asked, trying to peer into the small cell window.

“I don’t know, he’s been quiet though.”

“Who’s inside tonight?”

“No one, with Daryl and them gone, and Tobin and Spencer put off duty, we were shorthanded. I tried to get a few of the others but, they were all busy.”

“Comforting,” Rick grunted, shaking his head. “I’m going in.”

“You got it, boss,” Sasha handed Rick the keys and stepped aside for him to enter.

Rick unlocked the door and shoved the keys in his pocket.

He cautiously stepped foot into the prison, first looking down the walkway that passed from the cell to the back door of the townhouse, then over to the cell door.

Rick froze when he saw the cell door was wide open and Negan was nowhere to be found.

Rick stood staring into the empty cell, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Sasha!” he shrieked in a voice thick with panic.

Within seconds, Sasha was yanking open the iron gate and running into the cell.

“What? What’s …” She followed Rick’s wide pale expression to the open, empty cage. Rick heard her audibly gasp, her eyes wide with panic. “Rick, I swear, I didn’t…”

“I know Sasha, I know it wasn’t you,” Rick squeezed his eyes shut trying to think of his next move. “Get to my house. Make sure Michonne and the kids are ok. Get Carl to stay with Judy, tell Michonne to get armed, meet me back here.”

Sasha nodded once and took off to follow his orders. A noise from down the hallway caught Rick’s attention. Quietly slipping the python from its holster, he released the safety and readied himself for whatever lay ahead.

The hallway was nearly pitch dark, save for a trickle of moonlight from the back-door window. Hugging the wall, Rick stalked towards the room where the noises were coming from. A few steps later, he stood in front of the bathroom door. Bumps and knocks were coming from the other side.

Rick cocked his head and took a deep breath. Slowly turning the handle with one hand, he had the pistol raised in the other. Throwing open the bathroom door, the man that used to be Spencer Monroe lunched out at Rick, his eyes glazed over and teeth gnashing at Rick’s neck.

“Shit!” Rick cried out, Spencer’s corpse pushed all its weight into Rick’s body, causing him to crash into the wall behind him. He managed to free the arm that was responsible for the colt and drive the barrel into the walker’s temple. Pulling the trigger, the shot rang out causing the sound to bounce down the hallway and the body dropped to the floor.

“Rick!” he could hear a voice shout from a distance. The ringing in his ears was near deafening. Looking down he saw Spencer lying in a pool of blood forming where Rick shot him. Getting up on one knee, Michonne and Sasha were quickly by Rick’s side. Michonne’s hands all over his chest and neck checking to be sure he wasn't bitten.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he cooed, gently caressing her hands to try and calm her.

“Is that Spencer?” Michonne asked, disbelief plastered across her face.

“Yeah,” Rick answered steadying himself against the wall. “Guess we have our answer as to who was helpin’ him,” he bent down and moved the collar of Spencer’s shirt to get a closer look. Dark red lines were crisscrossed around his neck, and when Rick pulled his shirt down further, the thin piece of rope used to strangle him was still entangled around his throat.

“What now?” Sasha asked, her usual calm demeanor now shaky.

“Canvas the community, let’s make sure he’s not hiding somewhere. At dawn, we go hunt the asshole down.” Rick said, casting one last look of disgust down at Spencer’s lifeless body.

Daryl strolled into the courtyard of The Kingdom well past breakfast. Glenn was sitting on one of the stone walls watching the Kingdomers going back to their training exercises as Daryl sidled up to him.

“Hey man,” Daryl clapped him on the back of his shoulders, “you seen the girls around?”

“They’re with the kids in the garden with Ezekiel I think,” Glenn looked up at the archer and winced. “You alright? Lookin’ a little rough today.”

“Guess that wine went to my head more than I thought. I ain’t slept this late since Merle and I used to stay up partying all night. I’m too old for this shit,” Daryl pulled out his zippo and lit a smoke while looking around the community. “Any sign of Paul yet?”

“No, not yet. Ezekiel said he’s usually here by mid-day, so should be any time now,” Glenn studied Daryl’s face, gauging if he was in a good mood. “Hey, so I gotta ask ya… Last night with Morgan. You gonna be able to let all that go?”

Daryl squared up his shoulders and took a deep breath. “Why?”

“Because, if there is a problem, and this whole situation needs to be revisited, are you going to be able to work with him?”

Daryl took a drag from his smoke and looked off into the distance. When he met Glenn’s face, he narrowed his eyes. “What if it had been Maggie? Hmm? Morgan’s choice to not shoot Negan when he coulda, resulted in your wife with a gun to her head. How’d you feel then? Could you let it go?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?” Glenn responded. “Look man, I just know that sometimes you got to let shit go. If Negan’s the problem, and this blows up… Morgan and The Kingdom, we’re gonna have to work with them, both.”

Before Daryl could respond Maggie rounded the corner and joined them near the gate.

“Where’s your friend?” Daryl asked, taking another drag from his cigarette.

“She’s still in the gardens with Ezekiel and Morgan. Kids went with Lana to the stables,” Maggie said, shielding her eyes from the bright sun.

Glenn saw Daryl’s body tense at the mention of Morgan’s name.

“She’s with Morgan?” he growled.

“Mmhmm, they’re down to the left and then make a right. Just beyond that brick wall,” Maggie pointed. Without another word Daryl stormed off in the direction she pointed.

“What was that?” She asked draping an arm on Glenn’s shoulders.

“Just Daryl being Daryl,” Glenn said, kissing his wife on her cheek before giving her a squeeze.

The gardens were luscious and ripe with a wide variety of fruit and vegetables that were overflowing from the branches. You listened intently as Ezekiel told you more about the early days of the Kingdom, while Morgan hovered on the fringe of the conversation.

You saw Daryl approaching and started to smile until you saw his telltale signs of being pissed.

“Hey, there you are,” he said to you while throwing a glance at Morgan standing just beyond where you were. “Mornin’,” he nodded to Ezekiel, and then Morgan, albeit reluctantly.

“Morning Daryl,” Ezekiel smiled and turned to Morgan. “We should get going, he’ll be here soon.” Morgan nodded and left without saying anything. “Please, do excuse us. Jesus will be arriving and we are to meet him at the crossroads.”

“Should we go too?” Daryl asked.

“No, we’ll return soon. Stay and enjoy the garden and some quiet time with your misses,” Ezekiel placed a hand on your shoulder and gave you a little wink as he made his leave of you.

“Mornin’ sleepy head,” you teased Daryl, “you feelin’ alright?”

“Yeah, all that wine went to my head. Knocked me out.”

“Are you sure that it was the wine that wore you out?” You teased again, but when you saw he wasn’t reciprocating you started to worry. “Hey, what’s up with you?”

“What the hell you doin’ with Morgan… and where the hell are the kids?”

You raised an eye brow at him and took a step back. “Wow, I see someone woke up on the dickhead side of the bed this mornin’... Um, I wanted to speak with Ezekiel and Morgan was there. As for the kids, they are at the stables with Lana…”

“Why didn’t you take ‘em. You shoulda took ‘em instead of bein’ here with Morgan.”

“Ah, I see what this is about now. Jesus Christ Daryl, you need to let this shit go.” You crossed your arms over your chest and started walking through the garden.

“Not like I ain’t got no reason to trust him,” Daryl said as he followed you through the plants. “You almost died ‘cause of him Y/N. ‘Cause he was too chicken shit to shoot that asshole, Negan got a gun, got a hold of you and nearly killed ya.”

“But he DIDN’T. I am here. Daryl... I’m alive. Let this go baby, please. It was five years ago, and he’s changed. Please, I am begging you to let this go, for me.”

Daryl emitted a guttural reaction, and for the first time that day reached out to pull you into his arms, but you took a step back, not letting him touch you.

He sighed deeply. “Oh, and who the fuck is Lana?”

“Well, if you weren’t being asshole, I coulda told you that Lana used to breed horses on her farm before the outbreak. Right now, she’s showin’ the kids how to brush and feed them, clean their shoes, you know… the stuff they came here to learn.”

“We brought them to learn how to kill…”

“No! I’m talkin’ now…” you put up a palm to stop him and could see the frustration starting to burn in his eyes because it reflected your own. “We brought them here as part of a lesson in survival, Daryl. Do you think that shootin’ guns and stabbin’ walkers is all they need to know?”

When your husband didn’t say anything, you took that as a cue to continue.

“They are the next generation, the ones we are fightin’ for, right? The ones that’ll inherit all this,” you said, motioning to the area around you. “They need to know how to grow quality food, raise livestock, care for horses… THAT’S also survival Daryl. You can teach ‘em how to hunt and track, I can teach them how to read and write. Maggie and Carol can teach ‘em how to care for others, and just generally be bad ass… Glenn, Rick, Sasha… they can teach them too shoot and how to lead... But here, they can learn all the other stuff we can’t teach ‘em.”

Daryl glared at you from beneath the fringes of his hair, blue eyes burning with a mix of emotions you couldn’t read. Chewing on his lip, he crossed his arms and seemed to be able to cool down the fire in his gaze.

“Alright,” he shrugged, arms still crossed. He was pissed, but he was calming. You, however, were not.

“Alright, what? Alright… you’ll stop being a dick to Morgan? Alright that its okay for me to send our children off with someone who can teach them something?”

“Y/N,” Daryl started but you stopped him again.

“No, I am pissed at you Dixon, you’re not gonna cute your way outta this one.” Shaking your head, you continued to walk deeper into the gardens. You heard him sigh behind you, his heavy boot steps following yours as you wound through the paths of succulent fruits.

“Y/N… babe… please, just stop,” he’d caught up to you and left a hand on your shoulder. Daryl turned you to face him, his face completely void of any anger or frustration. His gaze softer and a small smile played on his lips. “I’m sorry, ok? I know I can be a dick. When it comes to you I get a little possessive. Not like I can help it. But, I promise, to stop being so hard on Morgan. I promise to let it go.”

Taking a deep breath, you smiled sweetly at your husband. “I accept your apology, but I am still pissed.”

Daryl looked confused, and even though you could feel any anger leaving your body, you couldn’t pass up an opportunity to make him pay a little.

“I am pissed because this is the first time seeing you today, and you go act like some macho asshole, getting me angry before I even have a chance to kiss you good mornin’. It ain’t right,” you shrugged and started to walk away from him.

Grabbing you by your waist, Daryl spun you around and embraced you tightly so you could move away from him.

“I guess it’s my turn to make apologies now, huh?”

“Mmhmm, you’re damn straight,” you kept your face as serious as possible, but all it took was Daryl to lightly bit at his lower lip and your resolve shattered. Pulling his face to yours, you kissed him deeply. You allowed him to nearly swallow you with his mouth, and as it always was with Daryl, you felt that ache begin between your thighs and his own need hardening beneath his pants.

Putting your hands on his chest, you pushed him back from you, “Easy cowboy, we have company comin’. You’re just gonna have to offer these apologies up later baby. Sorry,” you winked as you pulled out of his arms completely.

Daryl growled and wrapped an arm around your neck, “You’re evil.”

“Well, we are gonna go see Jesus, maybe he can save my soul,” you said, raising a playful brow at him.

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Jesus… what kinda name is that anyway? I mean, the man does have a real name.”

You wrapped your arm around Daryl’s waist as the two of you started towards the gates. “Have you not seen him? Baby… he looks like Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah, I get it… still dumb.”

“That’s just cause you got a ‘lil crush on him and his ninja skills,” you teased and grabbed his ass, pulling him closer to you. “

Daryl stopped and shook his head at you. “Woman, I swear, by the end of this day, we’re gonna see who owes who some apologies.”

“Oh, Daryl… promises, promises.”

Ezekiel, Morgan, Glenn, Maggie, and Jesus were all still exchanging welcomes and pleasantries when you and Daryl arrived hand in hand at the gates.

A smile spread across Paul’s face as he spotted the two of you. Releasing Maggie from his embrace, he went to you first and embraced you heartily and giving you a little squeeze in the process.

Turning to Daryl he stretched out a gloved hand and gripped Daryl’s, giving it a firm shake.

“Despite the circumstances, it’s so good to see you all,” Paul said, his bright blue eyes sparkling with warmth.

“I assume you’ve been caught up then?” you ask, hoping that Ezekiel and Morgan filled him up while heading back.

“For the most part, but I would love for us to go somewhere quiet to talk. I want to hear exactly what you remember happening from you, Maggie and Glenn.”

“Let us head into my chambers. I would rather this conversation stay within walls I can control,” Ezekiel declared and directed the group towards his study.

Once in the privacy of Ezekiel’s room, you recounted your tail of the day the walkers breached the walls. Paul listened with an attentive ear, occasionally throwing a look at Daryl or Glenn as you and Maggie relived the afternoon.

Paul sat back in his chair and ran a hand over his face, down his beard. “Well, I am fairly certain, we have a problem then. I was really hoping it was exclusive to The Hilltop, but I can see now with what you’ve told me, there is something bigger happening.”

“Yeah, Negan,” Daryl huffed and headed towards the opening to the balcony. He lit a cigarette and shambled out towards the fresh air.

“He’s just nervous,” you said trying to blow off his still surly demeanor. Paul caught the look of worry on your face and reached over to squeeze your hand.

“We all are hun,” he smiled at you sweetly and you felt your nerves settle a little. Paul’s calm demeanor was a welcome change to Daryl’s and acknowledging that made you feel slightly guilty. You knew Daryl just wanted to protect you, but his constantly changing mood was starting to make you feel frazzled.

Glenn sighed and sat back in his chair, grasping Maggie’s hand in his. “Jesus, what is happening at The Hilltop? Is Gregory still in charge? I mean, the last time we saw him, he wasn’t exactly friendly.”

“He is, for now. But the people are not happy with him and he’s not happy with them. You know Gregory, he thinks it should be his way and his way only. He doesn’t like the trade rules the three communities have established. Not to mention…”

Paul stopped and looked across the faces around the table. Hearing Daryl’s footsteps, he turned and threw a glance towards him before continuing.

“He’s been disappearing lately. Kal, you know him, right?” he paused as you all nodded, “him too… I don’t know where they go, but at least twice a week they’ve been going out beyond the gates. Just gives me a bad feeling.”

“Rick’s going to want to hear this,” Glenn said, running a hand through his hair.

“Indeed,” Ezekiel spoke up and carefully looked around the table. “I propose we head out straight away for Alexandria. Let us speak with the Sheriff and his queen, then to the prisoner himself. We shall get to the bottom of this one way or another.”

After the meeting was over, Maggie and Glenn returned to their room to pack and Ezekiel and Morgan left to make arrangements for the journey back to Alexandria.

You watched them all leave but never moved from your seat. Paul hung back as well and once again took your hand in his.

“You ok?” He asked, his bright blue eyes smiling at you despite the heaviness of the situation.

“No, not really,” you said quietly and dared a glance out towards the balcony where Daryl remained. “I’m just worried. Mostly about him… he’s not handling this like he normally would.”

“Y/N, I’ve known you all a long time now. Daryl is strong and capable, but he has a weakness, sweetheart. Men who have a weakness cannot always be held accountable for their behavior. Unfortunately for him, you’re his weakness and there’s no riding himself of it. That’s a lot for a man to carry on his shoulders.”

You snorted a laugh but knew he was right. “He’s going to hate me, Paul,” the smile faded from your lips and you could feel your gut turning at the thought of the conversation you still needed to have with Daryl.

“Oh please, that man couldn’t hate you even if he tried. He’s so in love with you, it’s ridiculous,” Paul’s eyes drifted out to the balcony, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Trust me, we would all kill for what the two of you have.”

“Well, after he hears what I want, he may be the one to kill me.”

“What is it that you want hun?” Paul’s grasp of your hand tightened.

“To stay here at The Kingdom while you all go back to Alexandria.”

Paul’s eyes widened with surprise. “Oh,” he said almost breathlessly. “Well, that may a harder conversation than I thought.”

“What’s that?” Daryl asked as he entered the room, only having heard Paul’s comment.

You and Paul exchanged a worried glance as you stood from your respective chairs.

“I’m going to let you talk,” Paul smiled at you and went to leave the room. Stopping next to Daryl, he placed a hand on your husband’s broad shoulder and squeezed.

“Be kind, okay? Just hear her out.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed in confusion as he looked back and forth between you and Paul. Offering you one last smile of support, he left the room to catch up with Ezekiel.

“What the hell’s he talkin’ about?” Daryl asked, the earlier frustration rising in him again.

“Baby, we need to talk about what happens next…”

Before you could continue, Lana entered the room followed by Abe and Shelby who both barreled into you and Daryl as they ran through the doorway.

“Mama! The horses were so cool! Miss Lana let me and Abey ride!” Shelby exclaimed, her big blue eyes shining like diamonds as she recounted her afternoon.

“Me too,” Abe said grinning up at Daryl.

Bending down, he picked up his son and studied his face carefully. Looking at the joy written all over their faces, you could see his chest rise and fall with several deep breaths. As the children continued to prattle on about the horses, Daryl seemed to come to a realization and nodded to you.

“You wanna stay here with them, right? That’s what you wanna talk about?”

Relief washed over you. You sat back down in the chair and slowly exhaled the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Yes Daryl, I do.”

“I hate it Y/N,” Daryl sat down where Paul had been sitting, Abe positioned on his lap and Shelby on yours. Daryl took your hand and looked between the three of you. “Y’all are my world,” his voice cracked, nearly breaking your heart. You knew this would be hard, but you also knew it was for the best. “I know its right, but don’t make it easy.”

“I know baby,” your free hand found his. Bringing it to your lips, you kissed his fingers gently.

“Ew! Mama kissed daddy!” Shelby squealed and jumped out of your lap.

Both you and Daryl chuckled. Abe quickly followed his sister as they began to run circles around Ezekiel’s grand table.

Daryl pulled your chair closer to his and leaned his forehead to yours. “The idea of not wakin’ up to you makes me crazy. But it won’t be for long, right?”

“It can’t be, Daryl. I would go crazy being away from you too long. Just go home, deal with this and then come back,” you got up from your seat and slipped into his lap. Nestling your head into his neck, you drew in a deep breath of his scent and relished in the way it made you feel.

His arms wrapped around your torso and as his mouth found yours, your lips parted allowing him to have you, but he didn’t take advantage this time. Instead, his lips lingered sweetly on yours just long enough for Shelby to squeal again and making you both laugh.

“You got this, Dixon,” you whispered to him, pulling away from his kiss.

“Yeah, I do. So do you, Dixon,” he replied mockingly. “Just a few days, right?”

“Yeah baby, just a few days.”

Sitting in the master suite of The Kingdom, you relished in the love your little family gave you and knew that no matter what happened, both you and Daryl would do everything necessary to make sure you were safe again together soon.

The moonlight offered enough of a view of the small map, for him to know he’d arrived at his destination. Spencer hadn’t failed to deliver the items he needed for his journey, but Negan had certainly failed Spencer.

Grinning, Negan approached the back of the high wall as his mind flashed back to the feeling of wrapping the rope around the idiot’s neck and the satisfying crush of his windpipe. Stretching out his arms to the side, and drawing in a deep breath, the former leader of the Saviors then raised his hands to the moon and resisted the urge to howl.

Spencer had been visiting him for only about a year, but Negan had quickly grown tired of the man’s whining. He constantly asked himself how Rick had not yet killed the ‘fucking shit stain’ but somehow resisted the urge to ask him straight out.

Negan knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth though when Spencer finally admitted his hatred for Rick. He knew that Spencer, somehow, could be his ticket out of the cell and on his way back to the top of the food chain.

Sure, he’d promised to take Spencer to The Hilltop with him; that had been the plan. Negan had a small window to arrive at his new home, and it was all a matter of timing. Spencer and his prattling on had nearly fucked that all up. So, instead of taking him to meet up with Gregory, Negan discarded the stain in the prison bathroom before heading on to begin phase two of his plan.

The crisp night air felt like bliss on his skin. All he needed now was a hot meal, a warm bed and a curvy body to share it with him. The thought of having all that within his grasp caused an ache in his groin made and a guttural reaction from deep within.

From the shadows, Negan saw Gregory step out, his hands turning with anxiety in each other as he came face to face with his old enemy.

“Ne- Negan,” Gregory nodded hesitantly and looked behind him for Spencer. “Where… uh… where’s the boy?”

“Boy?” Negan chuckled, “Oh, that boy. He’s dead. Slipped and fell in the bathroom I hear. Such a fucking shame, huh?”

Gregory swallowed hard and wanted to wretch when the sick feeling rose in his throat. “Terrible,” he muttered, his hand absently tugging at his collar.

“So, are you going to show me to my new home, or…. Do you wanna sit out here under the moonlight and remind me of what it means to be a fucking man?! Cause, no offense buddy, you really aren’t my fucking type. I was hopin’ for someone with more…” Negan dramatically made curves of a woman with his hands while licking his lips.

“Uh, follow me. Your quarters are all ready,” Gregory responded nervously and stepped quickly towards the back passage into The Hilltop.

“And, where is our Lord and fucking savior this evening? Has he fled the grounds yet to help all those poor fucking souls in need?” Negan inquired, casually sauntering behind Gregory and watching the man like a hawk.

“Yes, Jesus has left for The Kingdom as planned. I imagine they are all there now trying to sort it out.”

“Oh, I imagine that they fucking are, Gregory,” Negan purred to himself, a feeling of satisfaction settling into his core. “I imagine they are.”

Tags: @kazosa @soythedemonqueen @onlydarylnormanfic @jodiereedus22 @his-paradox @zombeeemomeee @tiquismiquis @sorenmarie87 @redm81 @rhyatt-deauxtreve @kingdixonreedus @reedusteinrambles @aquivercactus @buckyscrystalqueen @see-you-then-winchester @hyphymanatee @adixon13 @rawr-bitchess @kgbrenner@fictionaldemon @thewalkingbucky @bikerdaryldixon @lefthologramdeer

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fan fiction #the walking dead fan fiction #twd fan fic #fanfic #fan fiction #the new world series

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robertjameshomeservices · 5 years ago

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Start your Own Service Business

“Which service should I do?”

I must have been asked this exact same question at least a thousand times over the last 25 years. In the James Home Services network, we developed the systems for seven different services businesses.

Our potential franchisees could choose which service best suited them and their family. This decision had to be made before they became a franchisee; it’s a very personal decision.

Robert James and James Home Services: Throughout the recruitment process, this key factor was heavily focused on. Most potential franchisees came into our program thinking they knew what service they wanted to provide. However, nearly 50% of them changed their selection once they really understood the ins and outs of each business.

This process also gave them the opportunity to gain clarification on exactly what they wanted from their business, and what they really wanted to do.

What Do You Think?

The first question for you to ask yourself, and your partner if you have one:

What service business can I see myself doing?

For some of you, this may be very clear. While others, not so much …

For example: If you love gardening and landscaping, do it with passion, and are good at it; running your own landscaping and gardening business may very well be your dream come true. You should chase that dream.

Robert James and James Home Services: If you are a crazy dog or cat person who spends as much time as possible hanging with your four-legged friends, or if as a child you spent hours dreaming in the pet shop, then use your passion in a pet business such as grooming and hydrobath, dog walking, or pet minding.

If you are a true clean freak who gets the buzz out of cleaning the house from top to bottom, then you are a very valuable member of society. There are countless people who would love to pay you to show the same “enthusiasm” to keep their homes clean.

Are you a computer nerd whom your friends call on to save their lost data or blue screen of death? You could be a true-blue handyman who can fix anything, anywhere, anytime, with the tools in the back of your ute. Maybe you’re the car detailing freak who spends every Saturday morning cleaning your car until it is cleaner than the day it was brand new.

I think you get where I’m going with this—do you have a natural talent and love for something that is considered a service?

I would recommend starting there. If you love doing it for fun, imagine how much more you will love it when other people reward you for your enthusiasm and give you money to do it for them.

The funny thing is that if I had taken my own advice, I never would have started cleaning cars in the first place.

Before I started my car cleaning business, I certainly was NOT one of those people; I DID NOT love cleaning cars. I was a horse trainer with young kids. My own car had always been very, very dirty.

The amount of hay, horse gear, and general rubbish I could gather in my car was scary. My family thought it was absolutely hilarious that I decided to start a car cleaning business. But I had good reason:

I started my original cleaning car service business because:

1. It was a service that I could see myself doing.

2. I believed other people would happily pay me to do it for them.

3. The business was congruent with my family goals.

Does your service of “choice” tick these 3 boxes for you?

Whether you have already decided on or you are still working out which service best suits you, I recommend you educate yourself on the opportunities in the market place this simple, 5-step process before making a final decision:

A Simple Business Plan—Don’t get carried away, just answer some simple questions:

1) What do you want to achieve out of your business?

2) How much do you need to earn to break-even?

3) What are your first-quarter income targets?

4) What are your 12-month income targets?

5) What about after that, long-term?

6) Who is going to work in the business?

7) List your practical strengths and weaknesses.

8) What are your short-term and long-term family goals?

Do Your Homework—Take a good look around, where do you see a need or want for a service?

1) Investigate what services are happening in the major franchise networks. Generally, they do their homework—if a service has a strong demand, then there will likely be a major network already doing it. I would recommend you make an internet enquiry and investigate any service that jumps out at you.

2) Investigate local businesses. Look in your mailbox for brochures or the local papers or webpages. If there is already a business running the service in your area, then there is a demand for it. It is better to have competition than no demand. For example, you want to clean pools, but your immediate area has a very small percentage of built-in pools. Can you widen your service area or consider a different service?

Get Your Hands Dirty

Get your hands dirty, go out and learn from franchisors trail days.

Simply put, have a serious go at the services you are considering.

1) Spend a couple of days mowing your friends’ lawns or cleaning their houses. You will certainly get a feel for what it is like to go into someone else’s home and provide them with that service.

2) Go through the “recruitment” process with a franchise system. Many service franchise systems give a “day in the field” with one of their operators. Take the day and learn what they are doing well, what they are not doing so well. Getting your hands dirty is a great way to help you decide if that service really is for you.

3)Approach a potential supplier of products. A chemical supplier for example if you are considering cleaning. They may have current clients that would be able to give you some work or even train you (for a price of course).

4) Use a service provider and chat with them about their business.

Which Service Will Best Help You Reach Your Goals?

Write down the lessons you’ve learned; the pros and cons.

1) Isthis a service that you can see yourself doing?

2) Do you believe other people would happily pay you to do the service?

3) Is this “service” business congruent with your personal goals and those of your family?

The Gold:

· Robert James and James Home Services: Even if you are set on one particular service, go through the steps with 2 different choices. You never know what the outcome will be, it might even change your mind.

· This process should clarify your own thinking. In favour or against your service choice.

· You will learn a lot about your industry very quickly.

· This education will become a part of the foundations that you build your business on.

Originally Posted: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/you-want-start-your-own-service-business-which-best-one-robert-james/

#Service #Business

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biofunmy · 5 years ago

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In a Year of Perpetual Motion, Moments That Stopped Time

The 52 Places Traveler

Looking back on a whirlwind journey around the world, the 52 Places Traveler revisits the experiences that offered lessons for travel — and life.

Jan. 6, 2020

On my second day back in New York I walked into my neighborhood bodega and the Yemeni man behind the counter did a double take.

“Damn, bro, what happened? I thought you were dead!” he said.

The following night, I went to pick up an order at the Indian restaurant two blocks from my apartment.

“Long time, no see,” said the Bangladeshi manager who, since I’ve been gone, has grown a bushy beard. “Where have you been?”

What happened? Where have I been? After nearly a year in perpetual transit, hopping between the far-flung spots on 2019’s 52 Places to Go list, these are not easy questions to answer. Maybe a more cohesive picture of a once-in-a-lifetime year will crystallize with time. For now, the best I can do is draw out the moments that float on the surface of my memory, the ones I’m most grateful for, as they taught me invaluable lessons not only about the world, but also about myself. And isn’t that why we travel?

1. When I said yes to goat-carcass games and urban lions

By the third hour in a field on the outskirts of Samarkand, Uzbekistan, my hair had taken on the hue of the dust that filled the air in roaming clouds. Every time I smiled, which was often, more dust poured into my mouth. Two hundred men on horseback galloped back and forth across the dry grass, in pursuit of their target: a goat carcass stuffed full of sand. Shouts from the riders, the whinnying of horses and the cheers of thousands of spectators filled the air. At one point, being the only foreigner — and so a guest of honor — I was invited to ride on the truck that drove onto the field to drop the goat and start each round of kopkari, a sport that originated with the nomadic herders who inhabited these steppes 1,000 years ago.

Six months later and 5,000 miles away, in a small suburb of Dakar, Senegal, “false lions” — men channeling the spirit of the animal — growled, leapt and twirled in elaborate costumes. Drums thundered at earsplitting volumes and children shrieked in delight as the lions chased them through the fluorescently lit streets.

There’s a natural tendency to plan our travels down to the minute: We want to make sure we’re getting the most out of a trip that uses up our valuable money and vacation time. Toward the beginning of the year, I spent hours planning each stop — going over notes on the plane ride and sketching out what each day might look like. By my final stop, I barely knew where I was going to stay until the day before I arrived. The sweet spot is probably somewhere in between, with enough planning to know where you’re going but enough flexibility to say yes to the unexpected. New friends and the currents of serendipity brought me to the horses and the lions — and gave me two experiences I’ll never forget.

2. When I became a member of the guild

Hanging from the zipper of my camera bag is a small, bronze key. It grants me access to the backdoor of the Christian IV’s Guild clubhouse in the Danish city of Aalborg. Over the past year, I’ve accumulated soccer jerseys, paintings and a handwritten poem about an Italian horse, but this key, a symbol of my membership in a Danish society with roots in World War II, has to be the oddest gift. How I got it is just one of many examples of how dropping your guard and letting strangers into your life can lead to experiences far outside the realm of conventional tourism.

It started with Kit Sorensen, a friend twice-removed, who I met on my first afternoon in Aalborg. By the evening, she had taken off work for the remainder of the week to show me around. She took me out for pickled fish and aquavit, the straight-to-your-head spirit that Danes insist on drinking with lunch. Together, we explored World War II bunkers and the city-within-a-city of Fjordbyen. Sensing that I craved a home-cooked meal, she invited me to her family’s house, where I made even more friends — and got invited by a stranger to join the Christian IV’s Guild because he felt that “I had what it takes.”

When traveling alone, it’s up to you how alone you really are. Sit at a bar and take a break from your phone and in minutes you’ll be getting a laundry list of things to do from a local — as I did in Munich, in Danang, in Tunis. You might be invited to their homes — as I was in Georgia, Puerto Rico, Bulgaria. In a quiet bar in the small Japanese city of Takamatsu you might find yourself the only customer, going on a deep dive into salsa and New Orleans jazz with a cat-loving bartender who you would have never known if you hadn’t smiled and said “hello.”

There are walls that as a man traveling alone I didn’t have to put up. Being ethnically ambiguous was also, it turns out, my superpower, blending into the streets of so many places around the world, walking home at night and not even getting a second glance from locals. One’s experience of the world so often depends on one’s identity, and I can only speak to mine. At the same time, I believe that, in general, travelers will encounter kindness far more often than hostility. An open mind, a willingness to learn and an acknowledgment of our own ignorance about a new place or culture flings the doors that separate us wide open. Just ask all my new pen pals.

3. When I became my own best friend on a Norwegian fjord

Before a six-hour solo hike in the fjords surrounding Bergen, Norway, I intentionally left my headphones at home. It was sunny — a rarity for one of Europe’s rainiest cities — and I wanted to be present. It worked. I felt the light, cold breeze; I could smell the dewy grass and feel the foamlike tundra giving way under my boots. Six hours is a lot of time to be walking with nothing but your thoughts, but not once did I feel bored.

When I started this trip, the thought of spending so much time alone was one of my biggest worries. I’m an extrovert by nature. By my third month on the move, I was getting used to it. By my ninth, I was having full-on conversations with myself — out loud.

There’s something beautiful about learning to be comfortable with yourself — especially on the road. I could zero in on moments more completely without worrying whether a companion was having a good time. I could create memories that would be mine and mine alone — building blocks for my development as a person.

I was lonely, too, of course. I cried on the side of a Wyoming highway because John Prine’s “Summer’s End” came on the radio (“Come on home, you don’t have to be alone”); during a nearly four-hour meal at a Michelin-starred restaurant on the Dutch island of Texel, I fell into the abyss of staring at my phone; more than once I dreamed about being on my couch at home, with my partner and cat. But over time, I learned to see those moments coming and lean into them. That threw the distinction between heart-wrenching loneliness and blissful solitude into relief; it made the moments of connection with strangers that much more magical. Solo travel is so many things, psychological roller coaster included.

4. When I crossed the risk line on a dark Chilean highway

It was stupid, plain and simple. After getting off a series of canceled, rerouted and delayed flights that took me from Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, to Santiago, Chile, over the course of about 40 hours, I stumbled into a rental car just after sunset and hit the road for the town of La Serena. I was heading 300 miles north to get closer to where I’d be viewing the solar eclipse in a few days. It was about 40 degrees Fahrenheit, but I drove with the windows down and wore a T-shirt, hoping the cold would keep me awake. I blared death metal as loud as the car speakers could handle. I drank coffee like water. One tollbooth worker, seeing my disheveled and wired state, asked me if I was okay. I pulled into La Serena well after midnight.

This year was full of risks; they come with the job when traveling at the pace I was, alone and looking for stories to tell. Within just a few days of traveling this year, it was clear that some risks are worth taking. Getting into a car with that nice stranger promising a plate of life-changing pork in Puerto Rico’s interior? I can handle that. Solo hiking through the snowy Tatra Mountains of Slovakia? Armed with a trail map, I’m good. Driving for five and a half hours in an unfamiliar country, at night, after a hellish flight and no sleep? Nope: That was stupid.

In talking to friends, it quickly became clear that my threshold for risk is different from others’ (“Are you nuts?” my partner asked, after I told her about my night in the woods outside Batumi, Georgia, drinking myself blind with a bunch of strangers). But travel is ultimately a game of choose-your-own-adventure and part of that choice is figuring out the risks you’re comfortable taking. It’s a learning process and there will be mistakes — there sure were for me this year.

By Land and Sea

48 boat rides, 45 train trips

5. When my plans went to hell and I survived

There was the late night in a hotel in Salvador, Brazil, booking a trip to Mexico that would start the following morning, after my plans to get to the Falkland Islands, also known as the Islas Malvinas, had imploded. A total meltdown at the airport had led to check-in lines that extended past the terminal’s entrance. Despite arriving four hours before my flight and checking in online, I missed my flight — and as a result the once-weekly flight to the Falklands.

There was that scorching hot morning at the port in Banjul, Gambia, where my brother and I had no choice but to wait the four hours until a ferry finally arrived. I sweated out every drop of moisture in my body; I downed two liters of water and sweated that out, too, until the also-shadeless ferry arrived.

There was the carefully arranged Airbnb in La Serena that my host canceled with no explanation, just days before my arrival to watch the solar eclipse. I spent most of a night in Mexico, on spotty Wi-Fi looking for alternatives in a city that would be tripling in population for the eclipse.

There was the moment, three months in, when we had to make the call to cut Iran from my travel plans. The geopolitical situation had grown tense and even if I were given a journalist visa (unlikely), we had security concerns. It made the regular messages I received from Iranians on Instagram welcoming me to their country and offering to be my hosts all the more heartbreaking.

Things go wrong when traveling. And there’s something about the places of travel — airports, ferry terminals, train stations, hotels — that magnify feelings of panic and sadness. It’s a powerlessness we’re not used to when we think we have every detail of a trip planned out.

I learned that there’s very little you can do when your plans fall apart. I learned to pinpoint the small actions I could take and leave everything else to play out without me. I started on a long, circuitous route to Mexico the next day and pushed my Falklands trip to later in the month. The ferry did arrive — and 24 hours later, my brother and I were on a boat floating feet away from wild chimpanzees. I found another Airbnb at the last minute, and so what if it was a little farther out of the city? I kept in touch with my new online Iranian friends, promising that one day I would make it there — and I will.

Traveling is an incredible privilege and it’s mind-boggling how easy it is these days to cross the planet. Reminding myself of that got me through many a moment this year that previously would have left me a weepy mess on an airport floor.

under the sea

11 total hours underwater

6. When “no one goes there now” became my time to go

Travel itself, regardless of destination, is taking its toll on the environment: The most frequent, and valid, criticism I’ve received this year is for my Sasquatch-size carbon footprint. While no one at the Times is encouraging everyone to go to 52 places in a year — I’d think again if you are planning on trying this yourself — I also don’t believe the answer is not to travel. To see the natural wonder that still abounds; to encounter the places that are on the verge of catastrophic change because of a warming planet; to meet the people who deal with its effects every day and forge real, profound, cross-cultural connections makes for a more informed, empathetic world. That doesn’t mean there aren’t steps we can take to be more responsible travelers. And part of that is realizing that sustainability goes beyond carbon emissions.

The Falklands in the dead of winter, when I had a colony of King penguins to myself; Mexico in the crushing heat of summer, when the beaches were empty; Senegal and Gambia during the most humid month of the year, when locals were actually excited to see visitors who had braved it; Siberia’s Lake Baikal, in neither the glorious summer nor the spectacularly frozen winter, but instead in autumn, when the trees burn bright yellow.

In planning my trip and limiting cross-continental treks as much as possible, it proved difficult to be everywhere at the “right” time to visit. But again and again, I found myself falling for low season, when it was far easier to blend into the fabric of daily life because I wasn’t just part of a horde of tourists changing the face of entire cities for months at a time.

Cities like Venice — or even Zadar, in Croatia, as I saw when I arrived in the summer — are buckling under the weight of overtourism. As travelers, we could make a difference by spreading the wealth, so to speak. That means, for the most adventurous, going to places that are still hard to get to; it took me two tries to get to the Falklands and three to get out, but that made it special. But it also means thinking outside the “Europe in summer” paradigm.

taking to the skies

40 airlines, 88 flights (only 1 missed flight)

7. When I really learned what a “place to go” is

There’s beauty, surprise and genuine wonder to be found everywhere — and I mean everywhere. A Vegas naysayer can have his mind changed through a chance encounter with a crew of rockabilly musicians. A half-Indian student of history can learn about a mighty Indian empire, of which he knew nothing, by coming face-to-face with its ruins. A traveler can come home after 11 grueling months of continuous travel and start dreaming of where he’s going next.

But first, some sleep.

Sahred From Source link Travel

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