#Davos Dayne

[asongoficeandfancasts]

Tags continued: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Daenerys and her non-Targaryen Westerosi Ancestors

[dyannawynnedayne]

Hi!! Six fanarts <3

Darkstar for @kampflesben

JonCon for @valyriansteelchair

Davos, Bran, Brienne, and BBfish for anons!! Have some more coming up, got more than six :>

[stannis-the-freaking-mannis]

old art alert 💅

(euron is not the best boy wtf)

[fvckiminthecloset]

Day Six: Which is the worse of all these non-canon ships in ASOIAF?

PREVIOUS ROUNDS:

Day One: Tie of 25.5% between Sansa and Jon & Aemond and Lucerys

Day Two: Brandon and Ned and Lyanna and Benjen at 33.3%

Day Three: Sansa and Sandor at 29%

Day Four: Catelyn and Edmure at 48.4%

Day Five: Victarion Greyjoy and Asha (Yara) Greyjoy ELIMINATED at 30.8%

[samieree]

Born in Flames || Game of Thrones

OC x ?😏

-> Chapter XXXIII ''Dārilaros''

Chapter XXXIV ''A meeting''

The time has finally come to the meeting with her allies and present a plan of action. Everyone gathered in the room with the map, sitting on chairs at the table. Only Grey Worm and ser Arthur stood, close to the wall.

"You want the Iron Throne, so just take it." Yara spoke up. "We have an army, a fleet and dragons, if we attack King's Landing with everything we have, the city will fall the same day."

"And how many innocent people will die, especially if the dragons are set free?" Tyrion remarked.

"This is war. If you don't have the nerve for it, don't play it." Ellaria interjected.

"We're supposed to discuss the plan, not argue and insult each other." Visenya said, interrupting everyone. "Just because we declare war doesn't mean that thousands of ordinary people have to die, I won't allow that. And I don't intend to rule the kingdom of ashes."

"That's good." this time Olenna spoke up. "I don't remember a Queen who was more beloved than my granddaughter. She was loved by both commoners and the powerful. And what is left of her? Ashes. The common and the powerful are like children, really. They won't obey you unless they fear you."

This is their first meeting, and almost nothing has gone her way this far. It was easier when she dealt with the Lords in Essos, they were evil men, she had no problem intimidating them into doing what she wanted. Here the situation was more complicated, she had to unite people who had to support her in order to stay on the throne.

She felt she couldn't show weakness because if she did, it would be the end of her. They will tear her to pieces and there will be nothing left of her.

"They have to fear the consequences of their actions, not me." she replied calmly. "Also, almost half the fleet has sailed back to Meereen, so we're not at full strength yet." she noticed.

"You're going to wait..." Olenna paused for a moment, counting in her head how long it would be before the ships return. "Almost half a year? Until winter comes?"

"We have enough men to lay siege to the city if you don't want to attack directly." Yara came back to her idea of ​​attacking King's Landing right away, it was in her mind the fastest way to take the Iron Throne.

Vis sighed in her mind and leaned further into her chair. She turned her gaze to Tyrion and nodded. Enough of this verbal bickering, they will tell them their plan for now and then they will argue if necessary.

"It would be a great idea, if not for a few "buts"..."he started and got up from his chair to illustrate their plan, pointing to specific places on the map and moving the figures. "King's Landing is surrounded mostly by forests, which is a problem in itself, and we don't know where the Iron Fleet or Lannister forces are right now, other than the garrison in the city. We also cannot forget about some of the Lords whom Cersei converted to her side by talking about foreign armies brought to Westeros and referring to their memories of the Mad King."

This time, no one commented on a single word Tyrion said. Everyone was waiting for the rest of his statement, which filled Visenya with hope that they would all be able to come to an agreement. She didn't have much input into the current plan, she just pointed out a few things. She would like to be able to say something more, to know what needs to be considered when planning the next steps, battles, sieges, and movement of troops.

Mostly she stayed silent and listened to her friends, learning from what they said, but she didn't have the courage to admit to them that she didn't know something. She was the Queen after all, she was supposed to lead them. This fear remained in her, that if she showed weakness, her potential allies would abandon her.

"Cersei will not attack first, she will wait for our move as long as she can. If she was going to attack any place, it would be Highgarden." he moved the lion figurine to the Tyrell residence. "Food supplies and gold that she will desperately need. Therefore, the Reach troops will remain in the Reach. We will transport the supplies we need at this moment on ships that will also take soldiers from Dorne. Before that, we will provoke the Iron Fleet by sending a small force to Casterly Rock, to secure the transport as best as possible." he paused for a moment. The rest of the plan was much more general. "Then we'll take care of the army in the country, outside King's Landind, so that they won't be able to break the siege. By then we should be able to challenge the Iron Fleet as they attempt to deliver supplies to King's Landing."

"That is my plan." she finally got up from her seat, leaning on the table with her hands. "Do I have your support?"

She felt her heart speed up and her lips suddenly become mercilessly dry. This is the first important moment in the fast-approaching war. Either they support her or she will be left alone on the battlefield.

"You have mine." Yara spoke first, decisively, without any hesitation in her voice.

"Dorne is with you, Your Grace." Elaria spoke up right after her.

The tension was already starting to leave her shoulders, but there was one more person who had to accept this plan and she turned her gaze to her. Olenna Tyrell. She finally nodded too.

"Thank you for your trust, I won't let you down." she smiled at everyone.

"Can we talk privately for a moment, Your Grace?" Lady Tyrell's question surprised her, but she nodded and everyone else began to leave the chamber. When they were alone, she went to sit on the chair next to her.

"I think I know what you want to say... You want revenge on Cersei. I know that's why you all support my claim to the throne." she said, taking a seat. That was the only reason she could think of for this conversation and she could assure her that justice will be served. "I swear that those who hurt us will pay for it a hundredfold. And then there will finally be peace in Westeros.

"Peace?" she didn't answer whether that was what she wanted to talk about, but she obviously picked up on the topic and had her own opinion. She had heard of the Queen of Thorns before her escape and knew she was an intelligent woman. That's why she wanted to listen to everything he had to say and draw some lesson from it. "Do you think there was peace when your grandfather sat on the Iron Throne? Or his father? Or that it would be if your father ruled? There is never peace, my dear. People will always find a reason to fight."

She wanted to deny it, to say that it was possible to keep the peace and she would do it, but then she realized that she couldn't argue, that Olenna was right. People fight when they are dissatisfied, and you can't please everyone. Someone will want more and more wealth, others will want higher and higher titles. She had already experienced in Meereen that it was impossible to create a place without violence, but she wanted to continue living this utopian dream.

"I wanted to give you a piece of advice." she finally said what she had wanted from the beginning. "Will you take it from an old woman?"

"I will never despise advice that someone wants to give me for free." she smiled warmly and shifted in her chair, crossing her legs.

"Your Hand is a clever man. I've known many people like him in my life and I've outlived them all. Do you know why? I ignored them." this surprised Visenya, she didn't expect this type of advice. "Lords of Westeros are sheep. Are you a sheep?"

Her smile faded. For a moment she wanted to look down, because it was hard for her to stand Olenna's gaze, but she didn't, she forced herself to manage it. Is she a gentle, naive sheep? Often yes... But she wouldn't call the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms that, but maybe she just didn't know them as well as Olenna.

"No. You are the dragon." a delicate smile appeared on her face again as soon as she heard these words. "Be a dragon."

"I will be."

* * *

The boat reached the shores of Dragonstone, in almost the same place where, about a month earlier, Visenya Targaryen had taken her first step in Westeros in four years. Tyrion, Missandei and a small force of Dothraki stood on the shore in case any trouble occurred.

Robb Stark and Ser Davos Seaworth came ashore, accompanied by some of their men.

"Someone escaped death from under the scythe." Tyrion spoke first, using his 'unfailing humor'.

"Someone has done it more times than me." Robb replied.

The last time they saw each other was when Tyrion returned from the Wall and went to Winterfell to hand over the design of a saddle for Bran so he could ride. Their relationship was not very good, mainly due to the suspicion that Tyrion ordered Bran's murder. And now he is here on Dragonstone, wearing the pin of the Hand of the Queen.

How far can his talk take him?

Tyrion preferred not to speak to Ser Davos due to the fact that when they were fighting against each other, when Stannis was attacking the capital, Davos's son was killed because of his plan. Yes... It's better not to bring up these memories.

"Welcome to Dragonstone." Missandei greeted everyone before Tyrion could say anything else. "The Queen knows it's a long journey and she appreciates the efforts you've made to get here. If you don't mind handing over your weapons.

It wasn't a question of whether they minded or not, they had no other choice. Of course they won't let them enter the castle with weapons. Robb tried to be optimistic, after all, things weren't looking bad so far, they were still alive.

When everyone gave up their weapons, things got a little worse, because some of the Dothraki went to get the boat that they used to reach the shore from the ship, picked it up and started walking away with it. So we are prisoners here?

"Please, this way." she smiled and gestured with her head for them to follow her. They had to walk most of the beach and up all the stairs before they entered the castle.

As they followed her, Davos went over to ask her where she was from, while Robb remained silent and focused on her unusual outfit. It was rather typical for women to wear dresses, especially those of high birth. However, Missandei did not have a dress, only a cloak which shape imitated the cut of the dress. Additionally, two belts crossed on her chest, holding some kind of shoulder straps, one of them had a silver brooch, circle with three dragon heads attached to it. And, of course, trousers and high boots. I wonder if their queen wears the same kind of clothes... She was probably the one who started this 'trend'.

"This place has changed." ser Davos said to him after he had exchanged a few words with Missandei and they continued walking along the beach towards the castle.

"Inside probably even more so, you won't see the same sigils anymore." he replied.

"I hope I don't have to visit the prison again."

He rolled his eyes at this answer and said nothing more. They would have no reason to keep them prisoners, they would rather kill them. But they are still alive, that's the most important thing. Perhaps they will even be able to leave this island on their own.

The building itself made a great impression, mainly due to the figures of dragons crowning the towers or above the gate and at the entrances. A stronghold for the Dragon Queen indeed. Although climbing all those stairs when you spent the last many days on the ship and didn't have much opportunity to walk... A bit of a challenge.

"How's Sansa? I heard she's alive and well." Tyrion asked him when they were almost halfway up.

"She's fine." he replied rather dryly. He still had a bad taste for the Lannisters, even though - apparently - Tyrion was now fighting against his family.

"Does she miss me a lot?" yes... He had already forgotten that they married his little sister to Tyrion... He gave him a look that was enough of an answer. "A marriage of convenience, and unconsummated." You would try to do it differently... "Anyway... She's smarter than she lets on."

"Oh, she's changed..." he sighed. He regretted that he had not been able to protect her from all the horrors that had befallen her, but the most important thing was that she had survived. She changed... Like all of them, they grew up faster than they should have.

"Someday I want to hear how you survived my father's trap and then took Winterfell back from the Boltons with your siblings." Tyrion wanted to add, 'You Starks are hard to kill', but he thought that would be an exaggeration, even for him.

At first, Robb felt a huge need to punch him for reminding him of those very painful moments. The only thing that stopped him was that he needed the Queen's help and he couldn't start a conflict between them.

"When you tell me how it happened that the Lannister went from being a torturer to becoming the Hand of Visenya Targaryen?"

"I have never been a torturer." Tyrion defended himself. He had never done anything bad to this girl, and now he actually admired her for what she was able to achieve. He may like to tease, but he won't let himself be called that. "And my path to this 'top' was long and quite bloody. To be honest, I was drunk for most of it." there was silence for a moment as they climbed the stairs. "Tell me, why exactly did you accept the invitation? If I were advising you, I would strongly advise you not to come here."

"Apparently I don't learn from my mistakes. Or maybe-" He stopped abruptly when he heard an inhuman screech just behind them.

Both he and Davos fell to the ground, as a pitch-black dragon flew just above their heads. More flew right behind him, green, golden and white, shimmering blue in the sun. The four of them had been circling the island and now they were racing around the castle.

Only the two of them fell to the ground, the others seemed to be used to this sight and inhuman sounds that quickly chilled their blood. Tyrion walked over and offered his hand to help him up.

"I'd say you'd get used to them, but you never really do." he declared, smiling slightly under his breath. "Come, their mother is waiting for you."

Inside, Visenya was not yet sitting on the throne, but she was impatiently pacing the room and waiting. As Tyrion and Missandei went to greet her guest, only Ser Arthur and a pair of Unsullied were left with her to stand guard.

She kept thinking about how she should start the conversation and what she should say to get what she wanted. He agreed to come, so that was already half of a win, but now she had to convince him. With Dorne and the Reach it was easier, Varys took care of the most important conversations - even though she didn't ask him to... - and there was a different mentality in these parts of the country. They did not lose much strength in the war, they were burning for revenge, while the North suffered a lot and probably wanted peace above all.

She doesn't want soldiers from them, she just wants the Starks to also support her claim to the throne and acknowledge her authority, that's all. But if you consider what the Mad King did to Brandon and Rickard Stark, what her father did to Lyanna Stark... But she is not them, she will not allow herself to be judged by the crimes of her ancestors.

"What do you think he's like?" she asked suddenly, finally moving away from the window. "Brave or stupid to accept my invitation?" she slowly walked up the stairs and finally sat down.

"People have heard of your achievements in Essos."

"And they also heard the rumors spread by Cersei. Apparently in some village they say I have a tail and horns."

"Quite a funny vision, who knows, maybe they would add to your charm?" she rolled her eyes. She knew that he was teasing her, trying to calm her down, so he must have noticed that she was stressed.

She would have said something back, but at that moment the door to the chamber began to open, so she straightened up in her seat and stared straight ahead. She should be used to it by now, but something made her unable not to get stressed. She kept her hands clasped in her lap and concentrated on not playing with them, not showing any nervousness.

"You stand in the presence of Visenya of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Queen of Yunkai, Queen of Astapor, Queen of Meereen, the Unburnt, Breaker of the Chains." she was introduced with all her titles by Missandei, who was taking her place by the stairs to her left, Tyrion standing to her right.

Robb's first thought was that he had never heard of a person holding so many titles. Has anyone really ever called her all those titles? What does 'the Unburnt' even mean? Either she has actually achieved so much in the last four years, or she has a very large ego, or both.

"This is Robb Stark, King in the North." Ser Davos said, his voice echoing through the hall.

She didn't even listen to him much, she stared at the boy who immediately seemed familiar to her.

She had seen him before, seen those curls, even from this distance she could also tell that she had seen those blue eyes before. She dreamed of and danced with him. So maybe it belongs to him...

She realized that she had been silent for too long, that she should say something.

"Thank you for accepting my invitation, Your Grace." she emphasized these two words. "I hope the journey wasn't too hard." she decided to exchange pleasantries, as she first had to put thoughts of him aside before she could move on to politics.

"The winds were quite kind to us, thank you." he replied, having to focus on the here and now.

Of course, it didn't escape his notice that they had met before. She was the woman who had not left his thoughts for several days since the dream, she was the one who mounted the dragon and flew on its back. That silver hair and purple eyes are unmistakable, of course, a Targaryen.

"You don't have to be afraid of me. I'm not like my enemies, I don't invite people under my roof and then kill them." she assured, even though nothing in his behavior indicated that he was afraid of her.

"A woman with an army, a fleet, and four dragons telling you not to be afraid of her is unheard of." she smiled slightly under her breath, even though he said it with noticeable irony in his voice, or maybe as a joke? She couldn't tell. "And you call yourself the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and I call myself the King of one of those kingdoms, doesn't that make us enemies, Your Grace?"

"Do you want to be my enemy?" she couldn't help but ask this question, even though she didn't expect any answer, so she quickly continued. "I don't want wars, violence should be the last resort, that's why I invited you here. We have a common enemy: Cersei Lannister. I propose that we become allies."

"On what basis?"

"The one you're thinking about. Support my claim to the crown, acknowledge my authority, and I will give us all our desired revenge."

Of course that's what she wants, that's why she invited him, just like he thought from the beginning... Perhaps if what was said about her - or rather what rumors Cersei was spreading - were at least partially true, he would not think long, just kneel and swear allegiance. But she didn't look like a monster, she didn't act like one. In fact, after what she really did, common people would say that she is an angel in human body.

It could have been just a cover, but it made him decide to fight for the independence of his kingdom.

"I can support your claim, but not to my kingdom." he said firmly. "I'm sorry, Your Grace, but we don't know each other. We know as much about ourselves as we have been told. You are invoking a right that you don't actually have because your dynasty was overthrown. All you can do is win throne back and then I will recognize your rights." he paused for a moment, watching her reaction. She didn't look angry. "Do you really want to rule lands you don't know? I've heard  many good and bad things about you, I don't know what to believe, you can't expect to come back after four years and everyone submitting to you."

She didn't expect it, but she also didn't think of her rights as something she didn't actually have. Who else would have a better claim to the throne? There is no one else left to inherit from Robert, kingdoms could not remain under the rule of the usurper Cersei. It's not just that this woman doesn't deserve the crown, but also that she doesn't know how to rule, doesn't care about the people under her, and only wants power and a good life. This is not what a ruler should want.

She didn't lose hope, on the contrary - she believed that she was able to convince him. For some reason, fate had allowed them to 'mee'" before under quite nice circumstances, certainly not to become enemies later.

"I don't want to just rule, I want to change." she replied more dispassionately than she wanted. She decided that she had to somehow shorten the distance between them, let him to known her, if they were to get along. At the same time, she would also like to get to know him better... She got up from her throne and began to slowly approach. "You've probably also heard a lot about the little girl that Tywin kept as his trophy, a memory of times gone by - that's a nice phrase I heard once. It would seem that many people should feel sorry for me: An orphan, my father died before I was born, and my mother was raped and killed by the Mountain shortly after, right after he killed my siblings." she paused for a moment to make her next words sound stronger. "Nobody was sorry. No one delivered justice. Robert actually demanded my head, the head of a several-day-old baby. He tried to kill me a few times, of course he did, he hated my father so much, he was so afraid that his blood would survive and become a threat to him one day."

She had to stop for a moment to don't let tears - that were coming to her eyes as the memories of her childhood flooded her - fall.

Robb didn't dare interrupt her. He knew her story as much as it was talked about. The maester once taught him about the last members of this house, Visenya, and Viserys and Daenerys, who managed to escape to Essos right after the war. Since Visenya was here alone, he guessed that the other two had not survived until now.

He never paid much attention to her history, he was a child, he preferred to duel with Theon, first with wooden and then with blunt swords, than to learn history. But now, hearing it straight from her... He sympathized. He could easily say that, he felt sorry for her. While he had fun running around Winterfell, when he could come to his parents at any time - even at night when he had a nightmare - and he had no worries, she never had that luxury. She was forever alone, with the specter of death hanging over her head. She lived under the roof of someone like Tywin Lannister, who - as he knew from experience - was ready to do anything to win.

If she wanted to make me feel sorry for her, she's already succeeded.

"I survived. I've lived seventeen years of something I wouldn't call life. I survived and finally managed to escape. I spent four years in completely foreign lands, and yet they were the best years of my life. You said you heard a lot of good things about me... Did you hear that I freed slaves from all over Slaver's Bay? The Breaker of Chains. No one ever did this, no one thought that they were people too and deserved a normal life. Soon, the concept of 'slavery' will become history. And they have will come back to it... The dragons. The world hadn't seen them for over a hundred years until my children were born. The Dothraki never followed any woman, they considered them too weak. They also never crossed any sea. And yet now they listen to me, they crossed the sea for me." she finished speaking as she stopped a step in front of him. "Many men have tried to kill me, but no one succeeded. If all that has happened to me isn't a sign that I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms, I don't know what else it could be. If not fate, how else to explain it?"

"Maybe. But you will rule the frozen wasteland unless we defeat the real enemy."

In his answer, he did not refer to what she said about herself, he did not want to show that he admired her for what she did for those people from across the sea. He should finally address the issue that made him decide to come here and talk to her in the first place.

"My only enemy is Cersei Lannister."

"You are wrong, Your Grace." Davos interrupted. "Death is the enemy of us all."

"Very poetic." this time it was Tyrion who joined the discussion. She didn't see any hidden meaning behind Davos' words, but she started thinking about them in a different context...

"Let him talk." she said, giving her Hand a quick glance. "Continue..." she trailed off because she didn't know the man's name.

"Ser Davos Seaworth, thank you." he cleared his throat quietly. "I don't mean any poetry..." He looked at Tyrion for a moment. "...but a real threat. The undead army is on the other side of the Wall and they will attack us soon. An army that knows no fatigue and does not leave bodies on the battlefield. This is our enemy. If we don't deal with him... Does it really matter whose corpse sits on the Iron Throne?"

"If it doesn't matter, you might as well pledge your allegiance here and now. We all together will deal with Cersei, and then we'll go fight... Whatever you were talking about."

Honestly, she wished Tyrion wouldn't interfere right now. She didn't have anything better to say herself, and she tried to appreciate that Tyrion wanted to win another house's support for her, but she felt it didn't make sense today. They can argue all they want, but no one will trust a stranger enough to put the fate of their people in his hands.

"Enough." she said to him quietly. She hoped that would be enough to stop him from interfering with the bend-the-knee issue again. "We are strangers. I understand that you will not give your lands to me, and you should understand that I will not dedicate my army to your cause, to fight against some... Army of the undead?"

She wasn't entirely skeptical about Ser Davos' words, considering one of her dreams, but she couldn't blindly believe in them... She wasn't alone, she was dragging thousands of people along with her, she had to think about their safety, not just her own. Additionally, she has just begun the final preparations for the war against Cersei, the ships have already sailed, the fighting will begin soon. If she withdraws from the campaign as soon as it begins, what will her allies think of her? Without her in the south, Cersei will not be afraid to send an army to take over more and more lands and oppress more and more people.

"I know it sounds like some store made to scare naughty children." Robb spoke up. "But if it weren't for that, I wouldn't be here. My own sister advised me against it, and yet here I am. Maybe it's stupidity, maybe it's desperation, but coming here, I trusted you with my life, because - like you - I want to save people who have already suffered enough."

She was about to say something, she even knew what, but then they heard hurried footsteps coming from behind the corridor. It was Varys, he walked past their guests and went straight to Visenya, leaned down and whispered a few words:

"Your Grace, we need to talk urgently, it's very important."

She nodded gently and he moved away from her. She had to politely end this conversation somehow. Maybe it's even good, she will have time to think about how to approach it, now that she has the whole picture of the situation.

"Forgive me, you've come such a long way, you must be very tired. We will prepare you chambers, Missandei will show you. We'll have a bath run for you and bring you supper. If you need anything, speak to her." she forced a smile and was about to turn to Varys, but she noticed the distrustful face especially on Robb's face. Yeah... I should have understood trauma better. "I swear to my mother's memory that nothing will happen to you under my roof. You can walk around the entire island, after all, you are not my prisoners."

"You took our boat." he noticed, stopping her for a moment more.

"You'll get it back when we finish our meeting."

That was the last thing she said. She stood with her back to them and waited for them to leave so she could talk about this 'important matter'.

Robb and Davos had no other choice, so they left the chamber, and Missandei left with them. Of course he was afraid to stay in someone's home, especially since he didn't have any weapons. On the one hand, the memories of the Red Wedding came back to him as soon as he saw Visenya, but on the other hand, he felt an inexplicable peace in her presence.

She carried herself in a way that exuded confidence and strength, her outfit was in the same style as Missandei's, only more ornate. A silver chain ran across her chest, with a long piece of fabric with embroidered scales attached to it at the back. Even her hairstyle was unique, lots of braids tied up into a bun, with only a few strands left loose. When you looked at her, you truly saw a Queen, a strong personality, who knew what she wanted and how to get it.

However, after talking to her... To a large extent, it was all just appearances. She was not a cold-blooded murderer who would do anything to achieve her goal. Her difficult past certainly shaped most of her character. Therefore, he was prone to believe that she really wanted to change the world for the better.

They were practically the same age, and although life has verified many of their dreams, they still have ideals in them.

It was even good that they were interrupted. He will be able to prepare better for his next conversation with her, now that he knows how he should approach her.

Behind closed doors, however, the conversation finally began.

"We already know where the Iron Fleet is..." Varys began. It was clear from the beginning that he had bad news. "Two or three ships escaped, the rest sunk or captured. Ellaria Sand and Sand Snakes, who were to leave ships at Sunspear captured or dead, Yara and Theon Greyjoy captured or dead."

For a moment she didn't know what to do. This was only the beginning, and their plan was already starting to fall apart. Conducting a war so that as few people die as possible is much more difficult and complicated than throwing all your forces at once and breaking the enemy...

Nobody said it will be easy to be good.

"If they're alive, Euron will definitely sail with them to King's Landing... Is there any chance he's not there yet?" she asked finally.

Maybe she should sacrifice them, after all, they knew what they were signing up for. But what kind of Queen will she be if she so quickly gives up on the people who decided to fight for her?

"It is possible, but Your Grace-"

"So please, write to Euron." she interrupted Varys before he could dissuade her from this idea. "Write, that if he releases all those captured, I will meet with him."

He wanted to meet the Dragon Queen, so I will give him the opportunity, but not for free.

~

-> Chapter XXXV ''Advices'' -> general masterlist -> Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon masterlist

[reddslym]

Asoiaf facecasts (for characters I dont imagine as weird cartoon people/just the tv show actors):

Keanu Reeves as Arthur Dayne

Carel Struycken as Ilyn Payne

Ricardo Montalban as The Kindly Man

Alasdair Beckett-King as Edmure Tully

Jason Momoa as Daario (The joke here is Dany has a Type™)

Elizabeth Debicki as Cersei Lannister

Joan Cusack as Catelyn Stark

Ian Holm as Barristan Selmy

Kurt Russell as Davos Seaworth (Action Hero Man as humble diplomat is a fun juxtaposition)

[crazyfoxfur16]

House of the Dragon Mood Boards #40

Ser Davos Dayne

“The Sword of Morning”

Wielder of the Sword “Dawn” Made from a fallen star

Rider of the Black Stallion

“The Black Killer”

Author’s Note: Ser Davos Dayne is not my character and belongs to Shadow_Monarch_14 on AO3 all credit goes to them. Please enjoy and feel free to ask any questions. Love y’all ;)

[novaursa]

The List Of My HOTD Reader Insert Works:

The list received a makeover. There is no longer a second one. All is here, in one place.

Requests are closed! Please stop sending them to me, and respect me enough to understand how I'm unable to be doing anything outside my schedule right now!

Aegon II Targaryen

Helaena Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen

Daeron Targaryen

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Jacaerys Velaryon

Daemon Targaryen

Baela Targaryen

Otto Hightower

Gwayne Hightower

Alicent Hightower

Cregan Stark

Harwin Strong

Criston Cole

Jason Lannister

Tyland Lannister

Jason and Tyland Lannister - The Golden Court

Davos Blackwood

The List Of My ASOIAF Reader Inserts Works:

Oberyn Martell

Aerys II Targaryen

Rhaegar Targaryen

Arthur Dayne

Robb Stark

Sansa Stark

Jon Snow

Euron Greyjoy

Tywin Lannister

Jaime Lannister

Tyrion Lannister

Robert Baratheon

Eddard Stark

Brandon Stark (The Wild Wolf)

Lyanna Stark

Roose Bolton

Ramsay Bolton

Jaqen H'ghar

Sandor Clegane

Khal Drogo

Styr the Thenn

Ser Duncan the Tall - A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms

The List Of My FAB Reader Insert Works:

Aegon I Targaryen

Visenya Targaryen

Rhaenys Targaryen

Maegor I Targaryen

Torrhen Stark

Orys Baratheon

Aegon (The Uncrowned) Targaryen

Daemon I Blackfyre

Aerion Targaryen (Brightflame)

Brynden Rivers

Dune Crossover

Requests are closed!

About Me

[visenyaism]

feastdance dashboard simulator

💋queen-cersei-defense-squad Follow

it’s so sick that people keep criticizing queen cersei as if she’s not the first female ruler of westeros??? literally elevating bastards and women to her small council is super fucking progressive as is creating the precedent of dismissing unfit kingsguard??

🪨dragonstoner Follow

aren’t all of her children literally bastards born of incest

💋 queen-cersei-defense-squad Follow

oh so now you’re going to listen to stannis baratheon, known misogynist, kinslayer, fornicator, team green supporter, and homophobe, huh.

🦑pykedyke

okay guys i know there’s no “perfect candidate” but you have to vote in the kingsmoot anyways not voting is how someone like e****n g*****y wins and literally anyone is better than him. suck it up and row to the polls

🦈reaveherihardlyknowher

ohhhh not this “vote your crew no matter who” “blue lips man bad” bullshit again. fuck off idgaf which godless man sits the seastone chair i’m not voting for asha shes literally a neoliberal

🦷 lastoftheegiants

first i had to give up my rights and then i had to give up my gods just to not get killed by fucking wights but i literally cannot believe the nights watch made me give up my strap as part of the treasure ransom. shit was expensive it was IVORY. i hate southerners so much i hope the lord commander dies

🌪️kinslayerr

DO NOT COME TO THE RIVERLANDS

🍓silverspurs Follow

why

🌪️kinslayerr

there’s riverlands here

🧜‍♂️theythemderly

freys

🌾maidencool

my cousin got eaten by rats in harrenhal

🐎brackennation Follow

dumb cunts wearing raven feather cloaks strutting around who think they’re better than you but they’re not better than you

🌟sevenstar

i saw a guy get killed and then just stand back up and start fighting again because his friend kissed him on the mouth down here once

🦌whitehart

giant feral pack of 60 wolves running around

🍓silverspurs Follow

ok understandable have a nice day

🫧bastardwaters

i hate the fucking sparrows can we be normal for five minutes or can we just not have shit in the crownlands

☠️real-stormlands-patriot Follow

ITS LORD COMMANDOVER #RIPBOZO

🐦‍⬛mormonts-raven-bot Follow

CORN! DEATH! CORN!

(CAW! I follow members of the Night's Watch to remind them of their oaths!)

🦷 lastoftheegiants

????

🍋floriansjonquil

Loras Tyrell x Queen of Love and Beauty!Reader Imagines

Keep Reading

🪻maidens-smile Follow

girl this is notttttt the time he literally just fucking died at dragonstone?

💎oathkeeper

should’ve stanned jaime #LORASFELLOFF

💐flowerknight

one kill yourself jaime lannister is an honorless kingslaying turncloak two i heard loras tyrell was literally fine?

👊fleabottomtop

lord davos seaworth, the class traitor from the stannis baratheon administration, is a nasty little thottie and just died from making it clap in white harbor

🌅girlheir

this tower fucking sucks.

🌅girlheir

i’m just like rhaenyra targaryen for real

🌅girlheir

🐀ratcook5000 Follow

people meat tastes good asf when you don’t have a wench in your ear saying it violates guest right

🐺threeeyedwolf

🍒ladylance

need that targ girl in mereen to get those lizards over here and liberate this website by any means necessary cause what the fuck is going on

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

The thing about Jon that a lot of people forget is that he is actually a rather well known figure all around Westeros. I don’t think it’s incorrect to say that he’s Ned’s most famous kid by a large margin, and perhaps even one of the more famous teens in Westeros; especially now that he has become Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch and his reputation has began to stretch to a different continent. Because of his very unusual origin - being honorable Ned Stark’s bastard son by an unknown woman - his name has been passed around in noble houses across the entire continent. He’s not some random kid from the North that no one has heard of. The majority of people may not have seen him, but they have at the very least heard of him.

I bring this up because people tend to act as if Jon would be automatically scoffed away by just about everyone if his true parentage ever came to light. After all, they say, why would anyone believe that some random kid from the north is a Targaryen prince? But this is not really true. Jon is not a random kid. His father was one of the most powerful men in the entire land. And not only that, but Ned’s reputation as an honorable man with no fault ensured that the scandal of begetting a bastard was known by everyone who is someone. The thing is, readers tend to ignore a very large gaping hole in the story when it comes to public perception of Jon’s parentage. People all over Westeros have been talking about Ned and his bastard, but no one can agree on the mother - this is actually important!

Most people would not have questioned Ned to his face, but they too want to know who Jon’s mother was, even if it’s just for a little bit of gossip among nobles. Jon’s parentage is a mysterious puzzle that a lot of people have tried to solve themselves. Catelyn hears one answer in Winterfell, but Davos hears another on his way to White Harbor. Edric Dayne from Dorne says a different name to Arya, while Cersei and Robert (who both live in KL) hear different things. That there’s so much variation all around Westeros is actually proof that a lot of people are talking about this one issue. And Ned’s refusal to name a woman may actually end up having unexpected consequences when someone finally mentions the name “Lyanna Stark”.

So I would like to push back on the belief that no one in Westeros would care about the R+L=J reveal or that they would immediately write Jon off. GRRM deciding to keep Jon’s mother an in universe mystery that is the topic of constant conversation will have major payoff. While I could see some being incredulous, it’s absolutely not a foregone conclusion that most people will choose not to believe it. And it’s not a foregone conclusion that this reveal will only matter to the Stark kids and no one else. Sure GRRM is playing with fantasy tropes, and Jon squarely falls under the hidden prince/king. But something that makes Jon quite different from a lot of his genre counterparts is that he’s not an unknown figure who shows up at the last minute to claim the crown. Jon is not an unknown entity. He is well known, it’s just that very few people have dared to think too deeply about the very large elephant in the room regarding his origin. But I’d imagine that if R+L=J was to be revealed, it wouldn’t be too shocking for a lot of people. It’s not so far fetched that honorable Ned Stark actually chose to protect his sister’s son.

And in regards to GRRM playing with fantasy tropes, Young Griff always comes up in conversation as Jon’s foil. People say that he will be the one to be believed because he looks the part of a Targaryen, whereas a random kid from the North won’t be believed because of his brown hair and grey eyes. Jon doesn’t look like some random unrecognizable Northman. He very specifically looks like a Stark! And anyway, is Jon’s story - that Ned took him in after his sister died and raised him as his own under the protective banner of House Stark - any less believable than Young Griff’s - that Varys had the foresight to save him and whisk him off to Essos before the Mountain bashed his head in? Until now, people have never heard of Young Griff so they’ve never had the opportunity to ruminate over and gossip about his origin story. But they know Jon. And they know about Rhaegar and Lyanna. And Jon looking so very undeniably like a Stark (like Lyanna Stark!) could perhaps work in his favor.

[readingasoiafachapteraday]

THE WORLD OF ICE & FIRE

Reading Order & Thoughts Apparently

//Investigative read with the aim of finishing a fanfic <SPOILERSGALORE>

~this is not intended to be useful in any way shape or form do not construe as such but laughing at it is ok~

The Dawn Age

-dragonglass arrowheads found in giant ribs could be from children-giant war but also cud just as easily be wight giant

-brandon the builder was taken to a secret place by the children when he sought help to build the wall hmmmmmm okk

-“the manner in which Brandon learned to comprehend the speech is a tale in itself and not worth repeating here”?????? WTAF fuck u condal i mean yondel tommen loves stories

-greenseers can see distant events AND COMMUNICATE?hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmplotdevice

-wolfcontrolling skinchangers maxxx common, separately called wargs? stark blood fuckfest much????

-Seastone chair on old wyk wo any ppl SUSSAUCE

The Coming of the First Men

-alleged timing 8000-12000 yrs ago hmmmmm if ww are 6000 yrs ago it’s almost halfway hmmmmmmm

-what they running from? first men possible valyrian ancestors upset w the animalxhuman experiments? conveniently vague time periods

-first settled on DORNE that goddamned desert summins up w ur magic stone i will find u

-greenmen antlermen same same????

-arm of dorne, marshes, all considered natural disasters but w doubt so why not children cause doom of valyria possible??

The Age of Heroes

-ringforts this ringforts that fist of first men this infrastructure that

-find thenn constr. & every single built structure NotW

The Long Night

-do monkeys and elephants have anything in common

-Barth’s “fragmentary treatise” everything shat out by Barth & Munkun makes me want to kms

-Fomas ur understated & prolly right u religious fuck

The Rise of Valyria

-new power in east right after LN recovery, what festive timing gee i wonder if these events r related

-first empire ofc ofc just after old ghis & Qarth & YiTi & Asshai but those r “claims” yea we don’t talk bout that look dragons! blood sacrifice!

-five great wars w ghis “when the world was young” hmmmmmmmm

-Shadow texts say dragons tamed by “people who had no names” hmmmmmmmm

Valyria’s Children

-Qohor&Norvos founded following religious schisms? Only Qohor smiths still know to rework VS

-way way way too many mentions of wealth & human flesh needed in the mines

-fire vs water

-sus that andals & rhoynar both fled from Valyrians but in the second coming “the gods” spoke to the HS while the waterbenders fought both times

-is the long night just fire vs water 2.0?

Arrival of the Andals

-wtf is a fucking swan maiden

-writing the lines of the hugor hill story backwards is not as great a puzzle as u seem to think

-Urron Redhand ruled IIs by “axe&sword” for 1000 yrs, throwaway name? I think the fuck not.

Ten Thousand Ships

-Nymeria of Ny Sar SUS naming

-“few wish to dwell beyond the sound of her eternal song” faith close to old gods

-wtf r the orphans of the greenblood upto

-davos dayne my new OC, forgive me as i project onto u for the forseeable future

-seriously tho the best part so far, need a movie for THIS not whatever fart pudding they baking

The Doom of Valyria

—wtf is the difference between the 14 fires & R’hollor summins weird

-accidental poisoning of one of the flames? like pollution but magical bywaste pollution

-red clouds rained down dragonglass???? and black blood of demons which cud just be dragon blood as they pop in the air from toxicity

-dothraki & sellsword companies both popularised only in the power vacuum

-the conquerer’s attention lay west even as a child hmmmmmm

[superprincesspea]

Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 8 - Dance of the Dragon

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

Music

~~~

The evening of Princess Helaena’s name day is held in the rose garden, and you think it must be the most charming party you have ever seen. 

Tables and chairs are hidden among the flowers, music is floating up from the terrace and there are so many braziers that it's almost impossible to feel the cool night air. 

“Let us find Helaena,” Maris says, grabbing your hand to pull you through the crowds. 

You want to stop her, to arrive on measured steps, so you are not quite so breathless when you’re standing in front of Aemond, but it quickly becomes too late for that. 

“Your grace,” you pant, feeling as though your corset has been tightened beyond your ability to breathe as you dip into a curtsy, while Maris clings to Helaena, wishing her the happiest of name days. 

“I trust you are feeling much better?” he whispers, and you know, without looking, that there is a wicked smile teasing at his lips.   

“Quite,” you say, finding his expression to be exactly as you had imagined it, and you don’t give him a reaction.  

You move to greet Helaena, offering another curtsy before leaving all three of them behind in favour of wine. 

Dandelion wine to be precise and, though the flavour is more bitter than you’d expected, it's still strangely addictive. 

Turning to see if perhaps Cassandra or Maris would like to try it for themselves, your eyes meet again with Aemond, who is reaching for his own cup.  

“Did you read The Loves of Queen Nymeria?” he asks, taking a sip. 

You scoff, “it has only been one night.” 

“When a book is enjoyable, I find I cannot stop turning its pages until I’ve had them all, no matter the time of day.” 

You were the same, sometimes there were not enough candles in your room for the hours needed to devour every word, but you don’t tell him that. 

You look at Maris, who has talked nonstop of Aemond since tea and would likely relish the opportunity for this conversation. Though, you must admit, there was hardly a chance she would ever pick up a book unless absolutely necessary. 

Still, you think she will be able to make something up on the spot and be completely delightful when you tell him, “I think perhaps Maris has borrowed it from my room.” 

Aemond frowns, “who’s Maris?” 

“My sister...” you say, shaking your head in disbelief and knowing fine well that he has spoken to her before. “She is over there with yours,” you gesture your cup in her direction, “so perhaps you would like to discuss the book with her ?” 

“But ,” he inches into your path as though he can tell you’re about to slink away, “you have already read it, have you not?” 

His question is so direct that you cannot possibly lie even if that's exactly what you want to do. Yet that does not stop you from hesitating, feeling your cheeks heat, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention under his scrutiny. “ Yes. I have read it, are you satisfied?” 

From the smile that spreads across his cheeks you can see he is, in fact, satisfied. “What did you think?” 

You thought it exciting, enchanting and completely captivating. You couldn’t put it down and wanted desperately to be Nymeria with her 10,000 ships and the dashing Ser Davos Dayne at her side. You’d loved every last word and had re read some of your favourite chapters last night when you were supposed to be forgetting about Aemond.  

“You know for someone who claims to love books so much, you were certainly very cavalier when you threw one in the pond,” you say, keeping your thoughts on Nymeria to yourself. 

Aemond laughs, taking another sip of his wine, “I suppose I was quite pleased to see you also thought it one of the most terrible things you’d ever read.” 

Gods, you remember the way he had smiled when you’d told him precisely how much you disliked it. Perhaps it would have been safer to discuss Nymeria after all.  

“Well... just because you do not like something doesn’t mean it is worthless,” you scold, trying carefully to sidestep around him but he counters your movements, so every step only seems to bring you closer. 

“True,” he positions himself so you cannot escape, “ but I did not throw it away because I found it worthless...” 

“His grace should feel no great need to discard the things I do not like." 

“Then tell me of the things you do like.” He says this without any teasing smile, or any agenda at all, except to know you. 

Suddenly you feel as though your mind is the book he is trying desperately to read. Yet you don’t want his fingers running through your pages and it's not just because he saw you on the beach. It's not even because he has somehow convinced the men of court to ignore your very existence.  

You’re simply not a book to be read by a Targaryen prince, that is Maris’ dream. Your pages have always been meant for a man with no name, a man with no great consequence to the realm and Aemond was the exact opposite of that. 

Just as you’re about to tell him, that he has no need to know any more of your interests, you are interrupted by Helaena and grateful for it. 

“Brother,” she calls, and you both turn to look at her.  

“I would like you to ask my friends to dance,” she says, her cheeks so pink and her smile so hopeful.  

“You know I do not dance,” Aemond replies and, though you cannot see his face, you can see the way he tenses and wonder if he is thinking exactly the same thing you are. 

‘If you want to dance.... you need only ask.’ Words he had spoken only yesterday.  

You think perhaps he was trying to trick you after all, yet, deep down, you know that isn’t true. Aemond had no wish to humiliate you, he had said so himself. But why was it so much easier to believe that his motives were underhand, instead of something far more agreeable? 

“It will be a name day present for your favourite sister,” Helaena insists, sharing a conspicuous look with Maris who seems the more likely conspirator behind this whole suggestion. 

Rolling his shoulders with a sigh, Aemond stalks towards them, and you can only imagine the look on his face. The way his brow might raise, the way his eye might darken as it narrows. “I have already given you a name day present.”  

Helaena and Maris look so desperately disappointed at his rejection that you cannot help but speak for them and their scheme. 

“Surely his grace can afford two presents for a favourite sister?”  

He turns to look at you, surprised, “you wish for me to dance, Lady Baratheon?” 

All eyes are waiting for your answer, and you know precisely how to tempt him to the floor. “Well... If you cannot dance, I say I shall like to see it.” 

He laughs softly, the sound barely leaving his chest, “I did not say I could not dance; I merely choose not to.” 

“Hm,” you raise your brow, "such words are usually spoken by those with two left feet, are they not?” 

"Are you challenging me?”  

“I would never ask his grace to do anything which he did not already want to do.” 

Aemond sighs, but his eye is playful when he casts his attention not to Maris, but to Belis, who is standing quietly to the side. He slides his cup to a servant and, with one hand remaining behind his back, extends the other as a dark invitation.  

“Lady Trant,” he says, and her cheeks turn so red you can almost feel the heat of them from where you are standing.  

Suddenly you hate the way she laughs as much as you hate the way she almost falls over her own foot to take his hand.  

You half expect him to say something cruel, to tease her in some way like he always teases you, but he doesn’t.  

He folds Belis’ arm into his, and leads her down the stone steps, to the centre of the dancefloor like a perfect gentleman and you hate that most of all. 

You move to lean against the terrace wall to get a better view, and you can’t help but notice the way people are reacting to his presence on the floor. The gasps, the whispers, the sheer surprise.  

One thing is clear, Aemond truly doesn’t dance. Not just this summer but every summer, every dance.  

Is he about to humiliate himself?  

You’re not sure you want to find out. So, when the music starts, you look anywhere but at the prince, your heart pounding with some strange feeling that wasn’t there before.  

You’re taking a large gulp of wine when Cassandra makes her way to your side and whispers, “you should not speak to Prince Aemond like that.”  

You hadn’t even realised she was watching, “like what ?”  

“With that tone ,” she scolds, “it is far too familiar, and he will think you are terribly rude.” 

You meet Cassandra’s concerned expression with the stark realisation that this is only the second time, she, or any of your family, have ever seen you interact with the prince. 

“I didn’t realise I had a tone,” you say, troubled to think that any familiarity between yourself and Aemond could be so glaringly obvious. 

Cassandra’s sighs, “can you please try to be better behaved? For Maris’ sake if nothing else?” 

All you’d been trying to do since you got here was to help Maris, not that you could say that. So, you say nothing, and Belis’ dance with the prince is over before you’ve watched a single step.  

You’re a little disappointed to think he might have stumbled without you witnessing it, but she is looking so dizzy with happiness that it could not have been as bad as you’d suspected.   

Then again, of course it wasn’t. This was Aemond, he did nothing if he did not do it better than anyone else.  

Still, you find the idea of him being a great dancer even worse than when he beat you at Cyvasse. At least you knew he was well practiced at that.  

One day, there would be something in which you could best  him, and you would relish in it. Of course, you would have to know him more to find out what his weakness was, and that was a very dangerous game. 

As Aemond and Belis return up the stone steps, Cassandra leaves to dance with Lord Karstark, so it is Maris who is offered the next dance with the dragon, and you’re pleased for her. 

She seems to float on air as he guides her to the centre of the floor, her honey silk dress looking regal next to the black and gold of his leather.  You hadn’t really noticed just how much she’d started to dress in only gold and yellow, until right now, but unlike yourself, it suited her well.  

Perhaps that was why she’d practically forced you to wear your sapphire gown, though you didn’t mind. The fabric of your dress seemed as though it was made for an evening beneath the stars, catching all the sparkles as though it was crafted from the night sky instead of silk.  

When the music begins, it is a jolty tune, which you know is not Maris’ favourite. Her legs are long and a little clumsy for such quick movements, but Aemond is tall enough to support her and prevent her from looking anything but delighted.  

He, however, makes two missteps and you enjoy them well, thinking him not quite as perfect as he would have you believe. Though he’s still perfect enough to be holding the captive audience of almost everyone outside the dance floor. 

When he returns Maris back to Helaena’s side, Cassandra is still in the arms of Lord Karstark and you’re surprised when that leather hand offers to you, his eyebrow raised above his good eye.  

You hadn’t really thought of yourself as one of Helaena’s friends, you were just the annoying little sister who had to follow wherever Cassandra and Maris went. But Aemond doesn’t know that. 

“Perhaps his grace would like to sit this one out so he may regain his breath?” you say, wanting to dance more than anything but strangely afraid of it being with him.  

“You think I am without stamina for three ladies?” he replies and there is a quiet bubble of giggles from the others. 

“Go on,” Helaena urges and you relent, your heart starting to thud in your ears as you gently slip your hand into the soft supple leather of his. 

Like before, the music for your dance doesn’t begin until the prince has stepped into the centre of the fray and the tune is slow, steady. The steps far more intimate than you would have liked and just as intimate as Maris would have wanted.  

In this dance, he doesn’t miss a beat, his hands meeting yours at just the right height, his steps taking just the right stride. You suppose dancing is like sparring. Eye to eye, hand to hand, twist to turn.  

“After this, I will have all the girls in court hovering about me for a turn of the floor,” he muses with a grimace. 

“Do not expect any sympathy from me,” you scoff, pleased by the idea. 

“You find humour in my misery, Lady Baratheon?” 

“I believe it is recompense, your Grace.” 

“Recompense?” you both turn, switching places and, for the smallest of moments, you are just close enough for his lips to press against your ear, his words little more than a whisper, “ for what ?” 

Your heart flutters, not surprised by his question, only the manner in which he asks it. A whisper seems so unnecessarily intimate without the need for secrecy.  

You reach your hand above your head to meet with his, a shaky breath steadying your runaway heart. “I spend every dance alone, now you will spend them with a gaggle of admirers, though I’m sure most men would find that to be a pleasure rather than a punishment.” 

Aemond snorts, “you think I’m like most men?” 

“No . Most men are not princes.” That wasn’t the only reason, but you were not about to afford him a compliment.  

A smile flicks across his face before he turns you around so your back is to his chest, “you could dance with me for the remainder of the evening. That would solve both of our problems.” 

You laugh nervously, “I believe that would create an entire host of new problems.” 

You face him again, his head cocked to the side, “such as?” 

“Such as...” you hold your tongue, and he's so desperately close that you’re almost certain he can hear what you’re thinking. 

Yet you hardly know what you're thinking. 

Perhaps you think of the talk which would occur if every one of your dances was in his arms. Or maybe you imagine how much Maris would hate you for it. But mostly you think of your horror if you enjoyed every moment, like you are enjoying every moment of this dance.  

The press of his hand, the scent of his skin. The way he looks at you as though there is no one else on the floor and, maybe there isn’t.  

The other dancers have faded to swirls of movement like watercolours across the canvas of your periphery, but Aemond is all black, unmistakable .  

You reach your hand behind your back, and he meets it, the soft press of his fingers gripping yours into another turn.  

"You haven’t answered my question,” he reminds you and his words are another whisper, another secret, and he’s so terribly close.  

But you suppose that is the entire point of dances such as these. They are for lovers, to force you within a hair's breadth of propriety, to make your body yearn for something more just before you pull away and the spell is broken. 

“It hardly matters,” you conclude, realising the music had finished some time ago. 

Dipping into a lazy curtsy, you force a careless smirk upon your lips, “the hordes are already descending, and I have no interest in fighting for your honour, your grace.”  

Turning to leave, you dare not to look back at the ladies who have gathered around him. Instead, you walk up the steps, past your sisters, to somewhere you can breathe. 

When the music starts again, you try not to think of the next lady in his arms, and you don’t have to, because Aemond is suddenly standing right in front of you, and your heart is jumping out of your chest. 

“How did you escape?” you gasp, glancing over your shoulder to the dancers swirling around the floor. 

“I explained that I could not stand to dance again since my Lady Baratheon had stepped on my foot more than a dozen times.”  

“I did not!” you snap, annoyed, your cheeks burning. "Now everyone will think that is why no one asks me to dance.” 

“Not everyone,” Aemond says and, just as you’re about to find the courage to ask what he means, the queen arrives to stand by your side. 

“What are you two conspiring about?” she says, her brows raised at her son. 

Aemond’s face gives nothing away and he might be well adept at ignoring her, but you are not.  

“His grace was telling me about the crown library,” you say, thinking books are as safe a topic to discuss as any. 

“Hm,” she tilts her head thoughtfully. “I am surprised you have not taken her there yet.” 

Aemond frowns. “Am I to be tour guide to every lady who arrives at court?” 

“No,” a wry smile twitches at her lips and you can see she is considering her next words very carefully. “Only the ones who amuse you.” 

Aemond scoffs, "if the lady amuses me, it is only because she cannot dance.” 

"Really ?” Alicent laughs, "how strange. From where I was seated, it seemed as though you were quite... entranced .” 

Aemond’s cheek twitches, his breath sharp and, for once, he looks as though he does not know what to say, but you do.  

“The prince is right, your grace, we are not well suited to dance or in any regard at all. Please, excuse me,” you curtsy to them both and take your leave, not only from him but from the entire party.  

For someone who seemed intent on forcing himself into your company, he had a strange way of making you look like a complete fool at every opportunity. What was wrong with him?  

~~~

Hope you all enjoyed that chapter. 'Do I wanna know?' is my favorite song for this story so I was thrilled when I found the string version of it <3

[goodqueenaly]

Is Jon recognisable as Rhaegar’s son? Ned hid him away when Robert visited and didn’t want to take him to court. Is it just paranoia or could someone who knew Rhaegar look at Jon and figure it out?

Ned doesn’t want anyone prying into Jon’s origins. We see this in Catelyn’s memory, where her mere mention of the Ashara Dayne rumors prompts a coldly furious reaction from Ned and the immediate shutdown of any talk on Jon’s mother within Winterfell. We see this again with Ned and Robert, where Ned responds to Robert’s jovial interest about Jon’s mother with at first flat coolness and then angry refusal to provide any further details. The less said or asked about Jon, in Ned’s mind, the better.

I don’t think we as readers should fall into the trap of reader presentism, where we think every character automatically knows what we as readers know; in fact, it’s a point I’ve made before as to why more, indeed most, characters don’t know about R+L=J. Yet Jon doesn’t have to be so openly and obviously Rhaegar and Lyanna’s biological son for Ned to worry about other characters scrutinizing the backstory Ned has very carefully created for Jon. Not only did Ned almost certainly promise Lyanna at least to keep baby Jon safe, but Jon’s biological identity is a massive potential bombshell, capable of shattering personal and political relationships on a continental scale. However slim the possibility that someone starts asking difficult probing questions about Jon’s origins - and rumors about those origins definitely exist, as we see when Cersei throws the Ashara Dayne story in Ned’s face and Godric Borrell tells the fisherman’s daughter story to Davos - the possibility exists, and that’s a risk Ned doesn’t want to run. The easiest way to prevent anyone even approaching the idea that Jon might not have been biologically fathered by Ned is to refuse to address the subject at all - to maintain the simple, detail-scarce official story, and to keep Jon’s person away from anyone whose curiosity might be piqued by his presence,

[greenbloods]

Like nothing human

The sound Viserys Targaryen made when that hideous iron helmet covered his face was like nothing human. His feet hammered a frantic beat against the dirt floor, slowed, stopped. Thick globs of molten gold dripped down onto his chest, setting the scarlet silk to smoldering … yet no drop of blood was spilled.

The Dothraki were shouting, Mirri Maz Duur wailing inside the tent like nothing human, Quaro pleading for water as he died.

Yoren had taken grown men from the dungeons as well, thieves and poachers and rapers and the like. The worst were the three he'd found in the black cells who must have scared even him, because he kept them fettered hand and foot in the back of a wagon, and vowed they'd stay in irons all the way to the Wall. One had no nose, only the hole in his face where it had been cut off, and the gross fat bald one with the pointed teeth and the weeping sores on his cheeks had eyes like nothing human.

Davos reeled off commands; one bank of oars pushed off while the other backed water, and the galley came about. Lady Marya had won clear too, and a good thing; the fire was spreading over Queen Alysanne and her foes faster than he would have believed possible. Men wreathed in green flame leapt into the water, shrieking like nothing human.

The realization chilled him. Robert had been stronger than him, to be sure. The White Bull Gerold Hightower as well, in his heyday, and Ser Arthur Dayne. Amongst the living, Greatjon Umber was stronger, Strongboar of Crakehall most likely, both Cleganes for a certainty. The Mountain's strength was like nothing human. It did not matter. With speed and skill, Jaime could beat them all. But this was a woman. A huge cow of a woman, to be sure, but even so . . . by rights, she should be the one wearing down.

The squire had pulled the knife out of his belly and was trying to stop the blood with his hands. When the Hound yanked him upright, he screamed and started to blubber like a baby. "Mercy," he wept, "please. Don't kill me. Mother have mercy." "Do I look like your bloody mother?" The Hound looked like nothing human. "You killed this one too," he told Arya. "Pricked him in his bowels, that's the end of him. He'll be a long time dying, though."

[fvckiminthecloset]

Day 9: Which is the worst of both these non-canon ships in ASOIAF?

!!! TOP TWO !!!

PREVIOUS ROUNDS:

Day One: Tie of 25.5% between Sansa and Jon & Aemond and Lucerys

Day Two: Brandon and Ned and Lyanna and Benjen at 33.3%

Day Three: Sansa and Sandor at 29%

Day Four: Catelyn and Edmure at 48.4%

Day Five: Victarion Greyjoy and Asha (Yara) Greyjoy at 30.8%

Day Six: Tie of 22.9% between Ramsay and Euron & Viserys and Khal Drogo.

Day Seven: Brynden and Tywin at 34.6%.

Day Eight: Benjen and White Walker ELIMINATED at 64.8%

[samieree]

Born in Flames || Game of Thrones

OC x ?😏

-> Chapter XXII ''What the Seven Kingdoms need''

Chapter XXIII ''Refusal''

Most of the time she was stressed, wondering what would happen next, whether they would find the culprits. She was afraid that she would soon hear about another murder and they would still not know who exactly committed it. So when she heard that Grey Worm and Daario had captured one of the Sons of the Harpy, some of her stress melted away. Eventually, maybe they'll learn more, as long as the man keeps answering questions...

For this reason, the meeting was held at the same table as usual, in her chamber. Everyone was sitting except her. She couldn't sit still, not now. It may sound strange, but she had to release her stress.

"The Sons of the Harpy want to put us back in chains. Please, Your Grace, you must kill him." said Mossador, with the accent typical for people from Essos who have learned the common tongue.

She understood what drove him, part of her thought the same, but she knew she couldn't do it. Not yet, not without a trial. First, they must interrogate him and prove his guilt, and only then can he be sentenced to death. This is the law, anything else is murder.

"I can't." she replied. "Every person deserves a trial."

"He may reveal some important information, he should be interrogated thoroughly first." ser Barristan pointed out.

"He won't reveal any important information." Daario replied to him. "I've already questioned him, he won't say anything."

"And what did you find out? That he is young and poor. Why would he fight to restore slavery?" it was clear that Hizdahr was trying to defend the people of his class, which was understandable. However, Visenya's suspicions always fell only on them.

"But he was born free." Mossador pointed out to him. At every meeting he showed his grudge against the Masters and it was hardly surprising, after all he had spent his whole life in chains... But at the same time he should control his tongue, there is no slavery now, everyone deserves a second chance, even if not everyone wants it use it.

"They pay him." Visenya spoke for the first time in a long time. "Such organizations cannot exist without the support of someone strong and wealthy."

How did she know? It was the same in Westeros. This is what Tywin Lannister did, others, weaker ones, did things for him, sometimes feeling that they had some power or the favor of the most dangerous man in the kingdom. He paid them with privileges or in gold and that's how it went. All the time. Quite a circle. The Great Houses fight among themselves, driving this huge wheel. Each of them wants to be on top and have everyone under them, but as a result they only kill themselves and those who get in the way of the wheel.

"Yes, yes!" Mossador agreed with her. "The great families are afraid to do something themselves, so they pay the poor to do it for them. They are their slaves, slaves of their money!"

"How can you know that?" Hizdahr objected.

"Everyone knows it."

"I don't know, and I'm the head of a great family." she stopped for a moment when she heard Hizdahr's words. She was struck by the realization that his father must have died after all, since he was now the head of the family. For that one moment, she regretted locking everyone in the dungeons after taking over the city.

"We don't know what this man did." ser Arthur interrupted them. "As the Queen said, a trial is needed. Everyone has the right to a fair trial. We need to show the citizens of Meereen that the law works and applies to everyone equally."

"Yes, you must prove that you are better than those who ruled Meereen before you." ser Barristan agreed with his friend.

"I don't know where you come from, maybe it's different there, I hope so." she turned her gaze to the former slave. "But here in Meereen, before Visenya Targaryen came, we were owned by these people. We had to learn about them and adapt or die. They taught me what they are: monsters. Mercy, fair trial... It means nothing to them! They only understand blood, strenght."

Fire and blood.

"I want to be better, not like them." Vis said quietly, lowering her eyes for a moment. She wondered if there was anything else she wanted to say, or if they had something to bring up. "Thank you all for your advice. You may leave." she added finally.

"Your Grace, can I have a word?" ser Barristan asked as everyone rose from the table and began to leave the room.

"Of course, ser. About what?" she sat down next to him at the table.

"About your family." she was surprised, it was visible in the expression on her face. She didn't know why he wanted to bring this up now, but she let him talk. "I was in the Mad King's Kingsguard, as was Ser Arthur-"

"I've already talked with him about my father."

"He certainly knew him better than I did, I won't deny it. But I wanted to talk about the Mad King."

He surprised her again. She had heard and read many stories about Aerys II, but she didn't believe them all. After all, how can a man do this without anyone stopping him?

Although now that she knows what the Masters did to the slaves... All those stories might be true too.

"People exaggerate these stories."

"No, my Queen." he wishes all this wasn't true, but the world isn't that rosy. And he thinks she should know this truth. Learn from someone else's mistakes, not her own. "I was always there, I saw everything. They don't exaggerate. When people began to oppose him, he destroyed their towns and castles. He murdered sons in front of their fathers. He burned people alive using wild fire and laughed when they screamed. He was so eager to extinguish resistance that he led a rebellion that killed almost all the Targaryens."

"I'm not like him." she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. It was hard for her to imagine it, laughing at the sight of people screaming in pain and dying. When she watched death, she most often felt sadness because she was watching innocent people being murdered.

When it came to criminals, she felt... nothing. There was a certain sense of justice being served, but her face showed no emotions.

And then she remembered how she had gotten septa killed when she was a child. I'm not that innocent...

"No, Your Grace. Thank the Gods, you have your father's character." these words calmed her down a bit after the memories flooded her. "But you must know the history of your family. The Mad King gave his enemies the punishment he thought they deserved. Doing this made him feel powerful, he felt like he was right. Until the very end."

"I know that everyone deserves a fair trial." she pointed out, and after a moment she smiled gently at him. "Thank you, ser Barristan. I will remember this if I ever hesitate about what is right."

And I hope I'll choose well.

* * *

She was getting ready to go through with the trial, but then she suddenly got a message. She didn't have good hopes for it, but when she heard from Grey Worm what the Unsullied had found in the city and who was responsible... People shocked her more and more every day.

She took her seat in the audience hall, and immediately the Unsullied brought the murderer of this Son of the Harpy they recently caught. Mossador.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, disappointment evident on her face. She knew the boy had different views than hers, but she didn't think he would commit murder.

"Syt ao, Mhysa."  he replied and knelt down, the chain connecting the shackles binding his hands hit the floor. "Ao jeldan Trēsi hen Jazdanī morghe, yn aōha ondos sia letagon. Nyke mazilībagon ao dāez, hae ao gōntan īloma."

*"For you, mother. You wanted to get rid of the Sons of the Harpy, but you couldn't do it yourself, your hands were tied. I liberated you, just as you liberated us."*

"Īles iā atori umbagon syt iderenne. Ēdā daor paktot naejot ossēnagon zirȳl." she protested. She already knew that he had to be punished one way or another for there to be justice in the city, and she had to sentence him. But before that, she wanted him to at least understand that what he did was wrong.

*"He was a prisoner awaiting trial. You had no right to kill him."*

"Ziry sagon ossēntan mirre ñuhoso. Ziry enprisā toro lōchi riza bisa oktion camer, tare ūndegon mirre people dāez Se ao udrāzma."

*"He would die either way. He would rather destroy this city to the ground than see all the people free and you in power."*

She didn't know how to answer that, she didn't know how she could explain to him that what he did was wrong. Instead, she listened to him say that the Masters were still Lords, that they live in pyramids and murder "her children". He told how the Unsullied came to the slaves with weapons so that they could fight for their freedom. He said that he was the first to grab a weapon, that he remembered the look on his father's face when he saw him kill his Master who had exchanged his infant son for a dog.

"Ñuha kepa morghūltan dure se vīlībagon. Lo īlon ivestragī Trēsi hen Jazdanī dīnagon hae arlī isse belma, ziry iksos hae ziry dōrī glaestan." she was sorry to hear his life story, but she couldn't do anything about it, only nod, sympathize and move on. Most people have had a hard life, but that doesn't mean they have to commit crimes. That wasn't what justice was about. Your experiences cannot always justify you.

*"My father died fighting. If we allow the Sons of the Harpy to put us back in chains, it will be as if he never lived."*

"Kesan daor ivestragī zirȳ gaomagon bona, konir sagon skōro syt nyke umptan isse Meereen." she promised. "Ziry daoriot arlinnon se les bona zȳhon ābrar iksin daor aōha naejot gūrogon. Emā naejot sagon qilōnarion."

*"I won't let them do that, that's why I stayed in Meereen. But it doesn't change the fact that his life wasn't yours and you had no right to take it. You must be punished."*

"Mhysa, Iksā se vēttir."

*"Mother, you are the law."*

No. No matter how much he would like it to be so, she is not the law. Just because she made the law in Meereen doesn't mean she can now change it whenever it suits her.

"Vēttir iksis vēttir. Ziry apizō naejot ao, nyke se āeksia hae olvie." she interrupted, feeling that voice caught in her throat. "Se qilōnarion syt ossēnagon iksis morghon."

*"Law is law. The same applies to you, me and the former Masters. And the penalty for murder is death."*

He didn't answer her, but she could see on his face that it wasn't what he expected. He didn't shout or ask for anything. He kept his eyes on her as the soldiers lifted him from his knees and led him out of the room.

She knew what she had to do.

She came out of the pyramid and the common people gathered in the streets immediately began to extend their hands towards her and call her Mhysa. She wished she could smile at them, but she was in a foul mood. She only looked ahead as she walked to the place she had passed through after conquering the city.

She stood on a wooden platform, where masters had probably stood before and announced something to the slaves or killed them. She would rather lean towards the latter option.

She wanted to start talking, but people kept shouting at her and it took her a long time to find the courage to speak and interrupt them. Especially since she had the impression that after what will happen, they won't be so good towards her anymore. It doesn't matter that it's justice.

"She should behead him in the Great Pyramid and end the matter." she heard Hizdahr's voice somewhere behind her.

"I tell her all the time to treat you like that." normally she would have smiled at Daario's answer, but at the moment she couldn't.

She had to do it publicly. These people had to understand what the law was and that it applied to everyone, regardless of class.

"Ao ivestragī nyke ezīmagon aōha oktion kesrio syt nyke kivigon ao dāez se sepār. Iksan jāre naejot gaomagon bona kivio." after these words, the soldiers brought in Mossador in chains, which caused a stir among the former slaves. They started calling for their brother, clearly surprised to see him in chains.

*"You let me into your city because I promised you freedom and justice. I intend to keep that promise."*

"Mhysa, nyke epagon ao. Shijetra nyke." Mossador said once the Unsullied had left him kneeling on the ground near her. She didn't even look at him for a moment.

*"Mother, I beg you. Forgive me."*

"Iā oktiōno hen Meereen iksin umbagon syt iderenne se bisa vala ossēntan zirȳla. Vēttir vestras, bona qilōnarion iksis morghon." she stated completely seriously, with practically no emotion on her face.

*"A resident of Meereen was awaiting trial and this man killed him. The law says the penalty for this is death."*

People started screaming, begging for mercy for him. She would love to be able to show it, because she knew that Mossador was actually a good man. But he killed the prisoner, it wasn't in self-defense. She promised justice and she must keep her promise. If she shows mercy now, she will be weak in the eyes of the Masters, and the former slaves will think that they are unpunished. She couldn't let either of those two happen.

"Do it quickly." she turned slightly to the left and said these words quietly to Ser Arthur. As he passed behind her, drawing his sword, pleas for mercy became even louder. "Vēttir apizō tolvys: sodi āeksia, daerēdas buzdaris se nyke. Konir sagon skorkydoso iksi dāez, ondoso issare gīda naejot se vētti."

*"The law applies to everyone: Former Masters, freed slaves and me. In this way we are free, being equal before the law."*

She cast a single glance at Mossador, who was whispering something with his eyes closed - probably praying. Then she looked up at Arthur and only nodded briefly. However, she did not look at the moment of the beheading itself. She then looked back in front of her. She flinched slightly when she heard the blade of the sword hit the boy's neck. She only focused on maintaining a neutral expression - after all, she had done what was necessary, it shouldn't be difficult for her.

But it was true. First there was deafening silence, and then people started hissing at her and moving away. For a brief moment, she felt like she was daydreaming. She had two images in front of her eyes: The current one, from Meereen, and then the other one flashed. She was standing at the top of some stairs, and there were people at the bottom, also shouting something and raising their hands.

She stood there as if someone had driven her into the ground. She couldn't notice that behind her, among the people, there was someone who was getting ready to throw a knife at her back.

She only woke up from this strange trance when one of the people threw a stone at her and hit her in the thigh. Surprised, she moved back and placed her hand on the hit spot. Then ordinary people started throwing stones at the Masters, as a result of which both groups attacked each other, separated only by the row of the Unsullied.

She felt a sudden jerk to the side and immediately saw a knife that was stuck in the wooden platform due to the force of the throw.

"Go." she didn't even realize when ser Arthur managed to run up to her, but apparently he was the one who saved her from the mysterious killer.

She couldn't control herself yet, but when he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her next to him towards the pyramid, her legs started moving on their own. Later, she managed it herself, pulled up her dress a little so that she could run freely, and so, escorted by the Unsullied - whose shields were hit by stones thrown by people - she safely returned to the pyramid.

* * *

"Stannis is a complicated man."

Robb had been talking to Ser Davos for a long time now. His sole purpose seemed to be to convince him to help Stannis. First of all, he didn't want to do it because Stannis kept trying to force him to swear fealty. And secondly, what could he possibly do? Was he supposed to go from one Lord to another, showing up, saying he is alive and asking for men for Stannis because he swore the North to him?

It sounded comical even if not said out loud.

"On the contrary, he seems to be quite simple." Robb replied. "He wants to claim the throne that is rightfully his as Robert's heir, and I respect that. But he should be a bit more open to possible concessions."

He had nothing against Stannis wanting to sit on the Iron Throne. He is free to go, Robb never thought about this throne. He even supported the fact that Stannis was the rightful heir, but there were certain limits, he would not allow himself to be taken advantage of. His lands have already suffered too much.

Besides, he sincerely doubted Baratheon would take and give him Winterfell in exchange for bending the knee. He might be young, but he had already learned about war and he knew the North: Stannis is not able to cope in the state he is currently in.

"He only wants what's best for the Seven Kingdoms." Davos pointed out, not giving up.

"I dare not say otherwise."

"So why are you so resistant to helping?" Robb sighed at these words.

"I wanted to help. I don't care about the Iron Throne, I was ready to go to the capital with Renly or Stannis. But your King wants all the kingdoms at all costs. I understand that, but please don't involve me in your war. Even more so now, when..." he trailed off. He didn't want to finish that last sentence because he realized again how hopeless his situation was.

Silence fell between them. Davos was probably waiting for Robb to finish that sentence, and when he didn't, he said:

"Think about it some more. Before it's too late."

Too late for what?

He wanted to ask about it, but Davos had already got up from his chair and started to leave, passing the Red Priestess - Melisandre - in the doorway. This woman was strange, he didn't know what to think about her, but he felt uncomfortable when they were alone in the room.

She was only giving advice to Stannis, but there was something about her presence that was... Disturbing. Especially since she was apparently the one who confused Stannis enough to make him start burning people at the stakes.

Another reason not to bend the knee to him.

"Can I help you with something, my Lady?" he asked out of politeness, shifting a little in his chair.

"Come with us to Winterfell. No one knows the castle like you and your half-brother, but he became Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, so..." she walked closer to him as she spoke.  "Hidden passages, weak points. This was once your home. Don't you want to get rid of the rats that have infested it?"

"I have already told your King what I think about this expedition." he replied, although in fact lately he had been thinking all the time about how he could retake the castle and take revenge on the Boltons.

"Only one war matters: Life against death." she's getting too close... "Come, I'll show you what's worth fighting for."

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe in flame visions or magic." he replied quickly, moving back in his chair further against the wall as Melisandre took further steps.

It was a small lie, because a part of him believed in the dream that still lingered in his memory. He was convinced that fate would at some point push him to meet the owner of the necklace, and then what? He had no idea.

"No visions. No magic. Only life." standing in front of him, she moved her clothes aside, showing him her naked body.

He looked away, although at first he involuntarily looked at her breasts.

"Cover yourself." he said quietly. He felt very bad that she was putting him in this situation. They practically didn't know each other, and she showed herself completely to him and - most likely - expected something more.

She took his hand and raised it towards one of her breasts. He wanted to immediately pull his hand from her grasp, but the strangely pleasant warmth of her skin did not allow him to do so. His hand slowly moved up her stomach, and when it reached her breast, Robb abruptly removed it.

"Get dressed." he repeated his request, remaining with his face turned away.

"The Lord of Light created men and women. Two halves of one perfect whole. There is power in our connection, the power to create life, light." she said it quietly, almost whispering. There was something very seductive about it. He was not surprised that Stannis allowed himself to be deceived, because for a moment he wanted to succumb to her.

But as soon as he felt her hand on his shirt, he immediately grabbed it and stopped her from undoing his clothes. He couldn't... No. He didn't want to. He didn't want to do it, he didn't love her, he loved someone else and she's dead. He won't sully her memory like this.

"Do not do this. Get dressed and get out." he replied just as quietly, but very bluntly, finally returning his gaze to her, but he was looking at her face, not her body.

"You are not a brother of the Night's Watch, you have not taken a vow of chastity." she noticed. "On the contrary - you are a king, you need an heir."

"I don't have a kingdom. I already had a wife, I don't want another one. I have siblings who will inherit whatever I have left."

"I am his and he is mine. From that day until the end of my days." she quoted a fragment of the marriage vow taken before the Seven Gods. "Her days are over, but yours are still passing by."

"Yes, they are still flowing. So I belong to her until the end of my days."

"Dead people don't need lovers." her hand moved in his grip, and her fingers brushed the skin of his neck, hooking his weather shirt.

"I still love her." he let go of her hand and got up from the chair, walking to the door. If she didn't want to leave, he must leave this room as soon as possible.

He thought he would hear nothing more from her. That he would leave and with any luck he would never see her red hair and dress again, but her voice stopped him.

"Beautiful necklace." his hand froze on the doorknob and he couldn't bring himself to press it. How does she know...?  "Your heart is not frozen and you know it."

He opened the door and walked out, trying to forget what had just happened. However, one question kept running through his head: What did she want to achieve?

~

-> Chapter XXIV ''The burden of decision'' -> general masterlist -> Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon masterlist