#DENOUEMENTE / RHAENYRA TARGARYEN.

[astrodeus]

everything around the spacious bedroom shimmered under the kiss of candlelight,   a gilded bird winked its ruby eyes at harwin from one corner of the room,   its sharp beak caught mid-peck against an emerald grape,   no doubt a gift from pentos;   from the other end,   the vermillion canopy fluttered against the chill breeze that slipped in from the balcony,   an uninvited guest carrying on its wings the scent of lavender,   but harwin was engrossed by the lacquered board that separated him from princess rhaenyra.   miniature dragons,   elephants,  horses and figures crowded the checkered terrain,   each strategically placed and coordinated to ensure victory.    he can still remember his father’s words,   lodged in the underside of his memories like a pebble stuck in a shoe:  strategy games were whetstones that sharpen the mind,   but harwin had always preferred the real clash of swords in place of these fabricated skirmishes,   and larys was much better suited at the game than harwin ever will be.   he could not deny the wishes of @denouemente ,   though,   so he played,   unpolished and brute in his strategy,   yet favoured by the fortune of the bold.    elephant to king   :   a daring move.    “ a game of cyvasse is never over until the last move is made,  princess,  ”    amusement clawed and picked at the rough edges of his voice,   softening what would’ve been a verbal bite into a joke.   rhaenyra is quiet in her tactics,   a predator stalking her prey,   or teasing,   she was no stranger to that.    a flourish of dainty fingers had the candles flicker and dance as one of harwin’s elephants fell prey to rhaenyra’s dragon,   snatched from the board prematurely,   leaving harwin’s king defenseless.    “ i'm afraid i’m too stubborn to be a proper strategist,  ”    the battle between sterness and levity was brief on his lips, frown surrendering to a chuckle.

" you're just like me, you can't change who you are. "

and perhaps that was the reason why they suited each other so well, each steadfast in their beliefs, unafraid to pursue their desires, indulge them, against all odds and expectations, against the straightjacket of decorum that bound nobles to duty and positions alike. “  forgive me,   princess,   but pray  – what stakes did we agree upon?  ”

[literare]

there is a deep rooted anxiety living inside ribcage, growing and growing each and every passing day. her fathers depature years ago, the threat hanging above her children's head made clear by him then. and it's proven perhaps, over and over again. little she can do to protect them, truly protect them, from what the future hold once her husband dies. it does not matter who their father is, when he only has eyes for his first born daughter. when her claim to the throne, might mean a sword to her own. she had always known she would be married off to someone when the time was right. her father always looking for a step into power, and she was perhaps blind to some of it . . . but not all of it. that it would be the king, she had not foreseen. that she would lose her only friend at court over it, a choice that was not her own at all, had chipped away at her heart. hardened it, at least to the outside world. so she could survive here. so she could fight for her children.

a complicated relationship, but she loves them. in her own way. they are hers. her own mother died when she was young, memories hazy and blurred. all she knew was from her father, and he was never the loving, doting parental figure. he did not know how to speak to young girls growing up. a struggle to navigate now, and the only way she knows, it has come to bite back.

hand is curled around the pendant hanging from neck, the sharp little edges digging into the palm of her hand while slowly venturing back towards her bedchamber from her lord husbands. gaze slowly lift to her childhood friend as her voice rings out in the night, air slowly exhale while hand slowly fall back to her side as she comes to a stop.

" so it seems, " spine straighten and fingers brush lightly across the fabric of nightgown. dreams had gotten her nowhere, there was no escape in them anymore. nor did she have it in her to entertain them, once they did come around. perhaps once upon a time, she would have indulged this with excitment. dreams of the future. whispers late at night, little giggles while hiding away together. that, however was a long time ago. head tilt to the side then while watching the princess closely for a second or two. " and why would i, of all people, hold belief in them ? "

the air in the palace was tense, and there was nothing to be done about it. rhaenyra had done all she could possibly do to alleviate the hostility shared between her sons and alicent's children. it kept her awake, laying in bed and staring at the ceiling of her childhood bedroom. she couldn't pretend anymore, at least without some discomfort. the harm both sides wanted to cause each other, the way it seemed like nothing she said ever seemed to penetrate the hearts of those in the greens, she wanted to run away to dragonstone and never return.

she decides to go on a stroll, pulling her robe over her nightgown as she exits her room. the halls, though dark, are still familiar to her. this was her home — this was her birthright. one day, her sons would live and continue to grow here. jace would raise his family here, his sons and daughters running through these halls just as she once did. it warms her heart, despite the storm that brews beneath that warmth. she walks slowly, taking in each memory she has and each memory she hopes to build, but pauses once she spots someone in the distance. sleep had escaped them too, it seems, she thinks, starting to walk once more but stopping again once it's made apparent to her who exactly it is. she turns to leave, but the hall's other occupant turns to look at her first.

“ your grace, i didn't mean to interrupt. ” she purses her lips together, clearing her throat before she takes a step closer. “ it seems we were both unable to find sleep this evening. ” the tension that has followed them since childhood doesn't leave them now, and she can feel it weigh on her words, and her actions. “ are your dreams so terrible? ”

@literare: i don't believe in dreams.

“ and why not? ” light eyebrows furrow slightly, head cocked ever so. the queen's husband, her father certainly did. the memory of her hearing the dream aegon the conqueror had to unite the kingdoms was his motivation, something sacred he'd shared with his eldest daughter. “ i've always thought dreams to be wiser than they seem. ” the true expression of inner thoughts, or desires. “ i thought you of all people might hold some belief in them. ”

[odesofmeddea]

house of the dragon viewers who, mostly, are avid shippers of canonical incestuous uncle-niece marriage being so collectively repelled by the mother-son intercourse on-screen they cry and throw up begging for the harrenhal arc to end is so incredibly stupid, i'm not even sorry. daemon's arc this season is the best thing that could've happened to his individual narrative... he's the character who is not very vocal about, or easy with exteriorizing, his inner turmoils and anxieties. what harrenhal haunting does is forcefully dehisces those very intimate things out. although there's an obvious preternatural compulsion toward daemon's more malevolent impulses - as in the horrid compulsion issuing either from the place or the place and alys-entity's converged powers that might as expose and explore as pervert his resentment for rhaenyra and viserys and the simultaneous yearning to be unconditionally loved by them and by his mother into its extreme violent manifestations, - we still get to see way more human aspects of him becoming bare. things unuttered like guilt and sorrow, and regret no one believes him capable of - rhaenyra, laena, and little jaehaerys; fears, vulnerabilities, and the deep sense of emotional disorientation, trauma, and loss that the fandom's manichaean reading aggressively denies him. viserys' favoritism culminates in the decollation of rhaenyra that he himself is perturbed with not because he maniacally harbors harmful deadly intentions on her behalf but because there's an ugly wound that viserys, the family and patriarchal society as inevitability caused him and that alys' (or harrenhal's) influence is exacerbating through manipulation of his tattered psyche.

daemon dreaming his mother - whom he lost at too young age of three to actually establish any substantial proved relationships with - in this sexual role and womb-oriented denouement, in which he is only temporarily full of filial bliss before the ghast at consummation comes over him, is not some sui generis daemon-perversion but a part of his social and psychic character constitution and its study. alyssa's words might as well have been a self-consolatory projection he kept nurturing throughout his life: at least for his dead mother (whom he couldn't really know; dead being void, void being fillable) he was the most beloved, superior, and irreproachable one - the way that he wasn't for viserys and isn't always for rhaenyra, but wishes he was. viserys himself admitting to alyssa favoring toddler daemon most likely fortified this believe and necessity of that believe for daemon.

still, he is genuinely uncomfortable with every single apparition he's been subjected to face so far, and is not deriving a near sexual rapture (as does aemond at having aegon personally maimed) from seeing little rhaenyra accusing him of leaving her and stitching the head of the child he ordered to decapitate, nor rejoicing in the throne room after having her killed. he is not pouncing aroused (albeit he was, at first) on the figment of his bleeding mother to repeat the coitus - even if most of it is psychosexual, daemon is very obviously suffering from the horrors that are self, in situ, but are reflected through the doubles (rhaenyra, aemond) and the other (alys, alyssa).

it's breathtaking what they're doing with daemon this season. his line with alys is on par to the said. it's the best current new pairing in the show, with its own indefinite charm, albeit the pairing potentially being a sinister one. daemon is quite intimately drawn to alys despite the suppressed sense of something eerie in her omniscience. and i find it so interesting and captivating i almost wish it would never end... may daemon targaryen be haunted by his witch-fiend-friend forever!

[rhaenyrsa]

Blythe's Rhaenyra Targaryen, found at rhaenyrsa.tumblr.com. A private and selective interpretation of her, as she is found in HBO's The House of the Dragon series. I am currently reading Fire and Blood and will add details to my portrayal as I read them and see fit. Please read my carrd before interacting. Pinned post template found here. Icon template made by Ariapsds, psd made by Yellowhelper. Verse info can be found here. Prompts, which can be sent at any time, can be found here.

Blogroll: @denouemente ( Multimuse ), @grewaren ( Ronan Lynch ).

[grewaren]

Blythe's Ronan Lynch, aka the greywaren, found at grewaren.tumblr.com. A private and selective interpretation of him, as he is found in Maggie Stiefvater's The Raven Cycle and The Dreamer Trilogy. Please read my carrd before interacting. Pinned post template found here. Icon template and psd made by Ariapsds. Find prompts, which can be sent at any time, here.

New to Ronan Lynch? Read my Beginner's Guide to Ronan here.

Currently reading . . . Call Down the Hawk.

Blogroll: @denouemente ( Multimuse ), @rhaenyrsa ( Rhaenyra Targaryen ).