#Dothraki grammar

[k4marina]

— vi. Secrets and the Moon || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: While things settle down secrets are unveiled and you and Daenerys have a conversation about the moon.

warnings: slight mentions of violence/death, grammar most likely, ngl it's a pretty tame chapter.

a/n: all dialouge in italics is Valyrian

series masterlist

5.2k wrd count

game of thrones x fem!modern!reader

[gif is mine]

The walls of scrolls and ancient texts nearly reached the top of the ceiling. The smell of wax and parchment lingered in the room. Sunlight poured down from the skylight window. I’d never seen the room before, not on any website or during the tour of the castle. We were practically underground, in a more older portion of Dragonstone that was most likely withered away in the future. Diamond-patterned shelves filled with scrolls lined the walls on each side with a set of ladders and landings for easy access. A row of tables sat in the middle of the room, a large candle lit chandelier hanging down at the center.

I found the room whilst exploring the lower portions of the castle. It seemed that this was where all the old Valyrian texts were stored after the Targaryen’s arrival and before the Doom. When I’d first entered my head started to spin just off of the sheer size of the place. When I opened the first few scrolls and saw the ancient writing I couldn’t help but thank my parents for teaching me Valyrian Glyphs as well as the modern written form. Suddenly all those hours sitting at the dinner table studying with my father after dinner wasn’t so bad. 

So far my search had been fruitless, every lead coming to a dead end. There was practically nothing about either magic being used to bring people back in time or any mythologies relating to my predicament. There were plenty of other scrolls that taught the reader how they can cast various different spells and pyrokinesis. There were even a few that explained how to hatch stone dragon eggs, without human sacrifices. 

I scoffed, pushing that one scroll in particular to the side. I’m sure Dany could have used this while she was in the Dothraki Sea. 

Hours went by while I poured over all sorts of scrolls, but I found nothing that could explain my sudden appearance or a way to go back. The candles were nearly melted by the time I’d stored away the last scroll and shut the door to the reference room. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t disappointed. I really thought that if I could find any leads about my situation then it would be on Dragonstone. 

I thought that in all of the texts the Targaryens brought over from Valyria at least one would have the answers I was looking for. But I was wrong. 

The Valyrians were the first to bound themselves with dragons using blood magic. During the Valyrian empire’s height magic was an integral part of their culture and history. There’s no telling what they couldn’t do. If only they were good at spreading their knowledge, just far enough to Volantis at least, then maybe the ancient empire wouldn’t be such a mystery. 

Daenerys sat in a closed off patio, staring off into the distance when I arrived for dinner. She was no longer in her signature dark Targaryen garb, but rather in a more simple and modest gown. Her hair was in her signature braids, but not as dramatic as usual. 

“What’s on your mind?” My question pulled her out of her thoughts, only now realizing that I was here.

“Nothing,” she half-smiles. “Just another long day. Come– sit. The food’s still warm.” She motions for me to sit, which I do. “I heard you were busy in the reference library again.” 

I sat, laying the cloth napkin on my lap. “Another bust,” a servant places a plate of food in front of the two of us before leaving. “Don’t get me wrong, there was plenty of information, but none that I needed.” 

“Have you looked into other sources?” 

I sighed, reaching for the wine. “I already have. The Seven don’t really believe in whatever my situation is, and the Old Gods are mostly about nature; forest, rivers, stone.” The knife in my hands easily cut through the piece of meat on my plate. 

“What of the Old Gods of Valyria?” 

“They're just deities.” I placed my elbows on the table. “We still worship them beyond the Black Wall, but they also don’t provide any information. They’re just God’s you pray to, to keep traditions for some.” 

“So that’s it?” 

“I still have one person to ask, but she’s already gone to Volantis.” 

“Melisandre?” Daenerys frowns, “but she’s not coming back.” 

I shake my head. “She is. It’s her fate to die in Westeros. When she returns I’ll have to ask her before she takes the plunge.” 

Daenerys nods, slowly, understanding. There’s a moment of silence, the two of us busy eating before Daenerys asks me the important question that’d been lingering in the air since my arrival. 

“What will you do if you can’t go back?” 

I sit still, but then shrug. “Stay here, I guess. Don’t have any other option, do I?” I look away from her, staring off into the distance, the night sky glimmering. No matter how many times I see the stars, I’m always mesmerized. You can’t get a view like this in the modern world, the light pollution clouding the beautiful night sky. 

“I’ll probably explore around a bit.” 

“You won’t get married?” 

I paused, caught off guard. “I.. I don’t know.” I turned back to her. “I never thought of anything like that.” 

“Did you fancy anyone from your time?” 

“No,” I thought back. “Sure, I had a few crushes here and there, a boyfriend once, but nothing when I entered University, I was too focused on my studies than the opposite sex.” 

“Why? Are you trying to marry me off to some Lord to help your claim?” I teased. 

She playfully rolled her eyes. “I’m only asking. If you do end up staying here then I don’t want you to be alone.” 

“But I’m not alone.” I said. “I have you.” 

She smiled. “I know that. What I mean is that I want you to have someone close to you. Someone to grow old with and perhaps a few children with.” 

I mulled over her words. “We’ll see. But my main goal is to get you on that throne first.” 

“Would that be before or after we join the Army of the Dead?” She jests. 

“Boo, bad joke.” I smiled. 

The rest of our night went smoothly, the two of us opting to not talk about war plans or the futures but rather of our childhoods. She told me stories about growing up in Essos, one that wasn't in any textbook and I told her about the modern world. I still remember telling her about modern transportation and technology, her jaw smacking the ground. 

We dined till the late hours of the night, only calling a night after we’d drank all the wine in the room. My body slightly buzzed, the alcohol flowing through me. Something that I learned when I arrived here was that alcohol was less potent compared to the future. So while everyone else could get drunk with a few glasses, I was just lightly buzzed. 

But that buzz didn’t last long. I was immediately sobered when I saw that the door to my chambers was left open. I stared at the door, silently listening for any movements. I vividly remembered closing my door in the morning. Maybe it was an assassin? But that wouldn’t make any sense. If an assassin was hired he’d go straight for Daenerys, not me.

Carefully, I stepped closer to the door, trying to not make a sound and catch the intruder's attention. I peeked through the gap between the wall and door, but saw nothing. No man dressed in robes waiting for me with a knife in my hand. I slowly pushed the door open, thankful that it didn’t creek. 

The receiving room was empty, nothing out of its place. The bedroom was also, oddly, empty. I scanned the room for anything missing or changed, but the room was just as I had left it this morning. The only room that was left was the study. The door was slightly ajar and a faith wrestling could be heard. I took in a deep breath and pushed it open, expecting to see some man, but instead being met with a child. 

The kid, possibly around ten years old, rummaged through my drawers. She wore a simple, yet tethered, dress, her long hair tied back. Her hands stopped moving and her body stiffened as she’d been caught. I stared in disbelief, what the hell is this kid doing?

“What are you looking for?” My voice came out more rough than it should have, but I couldn’t care. Was this kid really going through my things? 

She didn’t reply, her eyes flickering back to the door behind me. I slammed the door shut, fully blocking any way out and asked again. “What are you doing?” 

She still didn’t reply, shaking in fear as if I’d kill her on the spot. She hid her hands behind her dress. I marched closer to her and she stepped back, her back almost hitting the wall. I reached out, grabbing her hands, surprising her. 

Scrolls that I’d written were clutched in her grasp, and in the small pockets of her dress. They ranged from menial things like day to day updates from either the Unsullied or Dothraki to sensitive subjects like Yara Greyjoy and her fleet's location or warplanes to take King’s Landing. 

I looked back at the child who seemed to be scared out of her mind, tears brimming her eyes. It was clear someone put her up to this. No child in their right mind would travel all the way up into the castle, know where my room and study were, and rummage through my stuff.

“Who set you up to this?” I lowered my tone, trying to seem less frightening. The child's eyes were a light gray with hints of lavender. Her hair was a light blonde and freckles danced around her face. By the looks of it she was either a Dragonseed or the descendant of one. 

“I’m not mad,” this time I tried in Valyrian. “I just want to know who told you to do this.” 

Her exterior flattered for a moment, but it wasn’t enough to calm her nerves. I sighed, crouching down so that I was eye level to her. “I won’t hurt you, I promise. And I won’t let anyone hurt you or your family. All you have to do is tell me who told you to do this.” 

She hesitates, and my grip on her hand loosen. I absentmindedly rubbed small circles around her wrists as a way to calm her. 

“The..” she stopped, scared that someone would hear, but I gave her hand a light squeeze, reassuring her. “The bald man. He said if I found him a special letter then he’ll bring me to my mother and father.” 

The bald man? Does she mean THE bald man?

“Do you mean the bald man that is with Queen Daenerys?” 

She nods. 

Fucking snake. 

She seems to notice that shift in my mood and quivers. I catch myself before I worsen my mood. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Alana.” 

I smiled, “what a beautiful name.” I stood up, reaching into the middle drawer that she didn’t go through and grabbed a tied handkerchief. I knelt down next to her and untied it revealing a few cookies and bit’s of chocolate. Her eyes lit up and she looked between the sweet treats and me.

“Here, you can have all of this, if you promise to not say a word, okay? You can’t tell anyone that I saw you tonight, especially the bald man.” 

She nods her head, eager to eat the cookies. 

“But, you have to do one teeny-tiny thing for me.” She looks up at me with her doe eyes. “You have to tell the Queen what you told me.” 

Panic, once again, sets in and she rapidly shakes her head. “No, she’ll-” 

“She won’t do anything,” I place my hand on her shoulder. “Her Grace doesn’t hurt children. She’ll protect you from the bald man. Both her and her dragons.” 

It took some convincing but she’d finally agreed. I placed her on my bed with the snacks and lit a few candles. I called for an Unsullied guard to go get Daenerys while I waited with her. 

“You said that the bald man would take you to your parents, where did they go?” 

She chews on a piece of chocolate and swallows. “They were taken by the man with the stag. He was bald too. He also had a daughter.” 

Stag, bald, and had a daughter. 

“Stannis.” I hummed. Knowing him, I’m sure that he’d executed them. Most of the villagers on the island are some form of Dragonseeds, bastards of the Targaryens and most definitely still loyal to them. It’s most likely that Alana’s parents had refused to bow to either Robert or to serve Stannis during his stint on Dragonstone and were killed as a result. 

The doors to my room opened and Daenerys, who was dressed in a robe and looked to have been pulled out of bed, walked in. “Did something happen?”  

I nod and stand up. Alana peeks at Daenerys from behind me, but quickly hides when they make eye contact. 

“I found her going through my things. Apparently, a friend of ours sent her to find something.” 

Daenerys looks between me and the little girl. “Who?” 

I turned back to Alana. “Sweetheart, why don’t you tell Her Grace what you told me, don’t worry, she won’t be mad at you.” 

The little girl holds her hands closer to her. “The bald man. He told me to look through the ladies' things.” 

“The bald man?” Daenerys repeats. She turns back to me. “Varys?” 

I nodded. “Seems like he’s interested in what I’ve been up to.”

Anger quickly takes over Daenerys and she turns to march down to his chambers. I grab her arm, “no wait.” 

“Wait?” She scoffed. “Varys is spying on my own people. He’s using children to do his dirty work and you want me to wait?” 

“Yes, I do. Dany, we can’t nail him yet.” 

She frowned. “Then what? We pretend that nothing’s happened?” 

“That’s exactly what we do. He doesn't know what we know now, we can use that to our advantage.” 

“What are you suggesting?” 

“Let him believe what he wants to. All we have to do is feed him the information that we want and take the information we need from him.” 

“And you are sure this will work?” 

I nodded. “Let the spider think that he’s spun his web, it’s only a matter of time before he gets too confident and makes a mistake.”

––

The next morning, after my morning sparring practice and breakfast with Daenerys, I was called down to the caves by Jon Snow. He and his men had made considerable progress mining the Dragonglass. Crates of the volcanic glass were placed around the path leading to the caves. The sound of pickaxes and chisels hammering against the cave walls echoed out from the cave entrance. 

Jon Snow stood by a few crates of what I assumed was freshly mined Dragonglass. He wore his usual attire; dark tunic underneath his black and brown leather armor, long black leather gloves and matching boots with dark trousers that had some wear and tear. He’d foregone his fur cloak and armored breastplate with House Stark sigil for the sake of practicality. 

Ser Davos, who stood in front of Jon, nodded my ways. He turned as I stepped closer, and their previous conversation came to a halt. 

“My Lady, thank you for coming.” 

I glanced around us. “You and your men seem to be making quite a bit of progress.” 

Jon nods, “we’re grateful that you and Queen Daenerys have allowed us to mine all of the Dragonglass.” 

“That’s not why you called for me is it?” 

“No.” He motions for me to follow him. We walk around a few crates, coming to a stop in front of a covered wagon, hidden from everyone. 

“We found these, deep in the caves. I’ve told my men who first found them to keep quiet about it.” 

Ser Davos opens the wagon’s doors and removes the cloth over the objects revealing a cluster of dulled dragon eggs. My eyes widened and I turned to Jon who also had the same shock written all over his face. 

“Is this all you’ve found?” 

“So far. We found these near the end of the cave before it split off into other directions.” 

I slowly nod, half focused on his words. My eyes ran over the eggs, five to be exact, all of them covered in dirt and stone. There were two lighter colored eggs, a white-gray and a pastel pink-purple. The other three were a dark navy blue, a dark green, and a pure black egg. I reached out and carefully grabbed the green egg, wiping away the dirt and debris the best I could. It left off a gold almost iridescent shimmer in the sun. The eggs themselves were hard, the outside covered in a scaled pattern. I gently turned the egg over in my hands, running my fingers over the surface.

I took in a deep breath, stunned. 

After Daenerys’ death, Dragonstone was handed off to The Crown. Over the decades, the castle had been turned into somewhat of a vacation home for the Royal Family. The Velaryon’s had contested the decision for many years, claiming that the castle was the last remnants of the Targaryen and of Valyria and that it should be preserved and handed to them as they were the closest to the extinct house. But in reality, they were more interested in exploring the castle than honoring it. 

They’d found Dragonegg’s littered all over the island, nestled away in the string of cave networks. Dragon bones and skulls dating back to the dragons the Targaryens first brought to the islands were also found in caves in the island's volcanic mountains. By the time the eggs were found they’d been completely fossilized and turned to stone. Taking inspiration from Daenerys, the Velaryons tried to hatch the dragons in secret, but lacked the (for a lack of better words) magic that the Targaryens held. 

But this, this was something else. 

I turned to Jon, who’d been watching me, “thank you.” He slightly bows his head, surprised by my sincerity. “Did you find anything else?”

“No, My Lady, that’s all we’ve run across.” 

I pressed my lips and nods, looking back down at the eggs. “Alright. Keep mining, but don’t go too deep.” I set the dragon egg back down, “now help me get these to Daenerys.” 

––

The five eggs, now properly cleaned of any dirt, sat in a chest between Daenerys and I. Her eyes stayed glued to the eggs as Jon recounted what he’d told me. But, like me, her focus was entirely on the eggs. She dismisses him, leaving the two of us. Silence hangs in the air for many moments, neither of us knowing what to say.

“Did you know that there were eggs on the island?” She finally asks. 

“I did,” I sat back, eyes flickering between the chest and her. “But I didn’t know where exactly they were. I just never knew that they were just.. right there.”

She hums. “They look like they’re turned to stone.” 

“We can still bring them back.” 

“Where would we keep them?” 

I shrugged. “I’m sure there's a few warming brazier’s laying around. We can chuck them in there while we deal with the Night King.” 

She looks up at me, “are you sure we can hatch them?” 

“Yeah, why not? Just need some good-old fashioned Valyrian blood magic.” 

Daenerys chuckles. “Alright, I’ll tell the servants to light a few warmers.” 

She stands from her seat, walking over and grabbing the dark blue dragon egg, turning it over in her hands. 

“How many of these are there?” She muttered. 

“Plenty,” I replied, standing up myself. “The entire island is littered with them.” 

“What?” 

I pour a glass of wine. “The caves under the island are almost littered with them. Some of them are in the caves up in the mountains.” 

I motioned her towards the window that faced mountains. “Jaehaerys’ dragon, Vermithor, used to dwell in a cave on that mountain. It’s said that he laid a clutch of eggs in there, but by the time we found them they were completely stone.” 

Daenerys steps forwards and peers out the window to the large mountain in the distance. “If the Dragonegg’s were here all along, then why did they die out?” 

I shrugged “Hell if I know.” I take a sip of the wine, leaning on the windowsill. “It’s rumored that after Rhaenyra’s death that the Targaryen's love and bond with the dragons was bruised, I guess you can say. People believe that the closer the dragons are to their riders, the stronger the magic. But after a civil war where the dragons pitted against each other and other riders, I guess the magic fizzled out.” 

“Well, that’s until you came around,” I motioned towards Dany with my glass. 

She stared off to where Vermithor’s cave was. “So many mistakes,” she muttered. “They made so many mistakes and it cost our house everything.”

“But you won’t do the same thing.” I said. 

She turned to me, determined. “No, I won’t.” 

––

The walls are jagged and raw, a clear contrast to the smooth walls of the castle. It’s dim, squinting my eyes to try and adjust to the lack of light. My footsteps echoed off of the walls. 

One, two, three, four… and five.

He lay on the cold ground on top of a sad looking chunk of hay that looked as if it was on its last legs. He’s wearing the same trousers and dirty tunic as he was when he was brought here. His chest has a slight rise and fall indicating he’s alive. His face caked in blood and dirt, making me grimace. 

“Wake up.” 

He doesn’t move, eyes still closed. Annoyed, I reach over to a bucket on the side of the entrance of his cell, grabbing a cup full of water. I splashed it on him through the cell doors. 

“I said, wake up.” 

He gasps, coughing and sits up straight, surprised. His head snaps over in my direction, eyes narrowing, but he doesn’t make any effort to move out of the shadows and into the dim light. 

“You bitch!” 

I drag a chair over in front of the cell bars, crossing my legs as I sit. “That’s no way to address a Lady.” 

He scoffs. “Y’er the furthest thing from a Lady,” he licks his chapped lips. “But you’ve got a pretty face like one. Maybe once your Dragon Queen agrees to my offer I’ll fuck you both” 

I narrow my eyes, but bite my tongue. “And you really think that she’ll take you as, what did you say? A King?”

“I am a King!” He growls. 

“Any man who must say ‘I am the King’ is no true King.” I quote Tywin Lannister. 

“I am the King of Salt and Rock.” He brings his face closer to me into the light. 

“Your niece and nephew would argue otherwise.” I glare down at Euron. 

“That bitch and her cock-less brother? They’re nothing. I’ll kill them just like I killed their father.” 

“That ‘bitch’ is on her way to reclaim the Iron Islands, and her ‘cock-less brother’ handed you your own ass, landing you here, in a dungeon.” 

“She won’t make it.” He double downs. “The Ironborn don't follow women.” 

“We’ll see.” I lean in closer, eyeing him through the bars. “It’s a new dawn. Two Queens are fighting for the Iron Throne, most of Westeros’ noble houses are led by women. I think the Iron Islands won’t mind a woman leading them.” 

Euron pushes himself against the wall. “Won’t last long. They’ll get tired of her and crave for their true king.” 

I leaned forwards. “That awfully confident of you considering your predicament. It’s almost like you have something under your sleeve.” His demeanor shifts, a wave of arrogance and cockiness falling over him. 

He smirks. “Y’wanna know? Hm?” He runs his beady eyes down my figure and I tried not to shiver out of disgust. “Why don’t you do me a favor and I’ll tell you.” 

“Really?” I played along. “And why would I do that? Not to be too mean, but you don’t seem to be the type to be strategic, just dumb luck.” 

His eye twitches at my comment. He leans forwards, a crazed look in his eyes, as if he’d just hit the jackpot. “Cause it’s the one thing that will make your dragons mine.” 

Gotcha. 

“Let me guess, a Dragonbinder?” 

His face falls, shocked that I already knew about his “trump card” that not even Cersei knew about. His mouth falls open, but no words come out. 

“What? Cat got your tongue? You were pretty chatty before, what happened?” 

He recovers well, becoming more hostile. “Knowing about it won’t change a thing. I’ll get out of here and when I do, I’ll kill you and everyone in this fucking castle and feed you to your own fucking dragons!” 

I stare at him momentarily before smiling. “I’ll count on it.” I stand, getting ready to leave. “You’ve lost, Euron. I look forward to your coming execution. Sleep well till then.” 

––

“Are you sure?” Daenerys asks, tethering between skepticism and fear.

I nodded. “I didn’t believe it either. From what I had heard it was purely a rumor, but he just confirmed for me.”

“A Dragonbinder?” Missandei raised a brow. “I don’t seem to be familiar with that item.” 

“You shouldn’t be.” I said. “It’s something like an ancient relic of Old Valyria. It’s a horn made of an enormous dragonbone and is six feet long. It’s said that whoever blows into it will have the power to control dragons, but I’ve never seen it before nor have I known anyone to have ever seen it, let alone have it in their possession.”

“And you believe Euron is hiding it somewhere?” Varys asks, hand folded in his lap.

“It’s alleged when he went to claim the Seastone Chair he presented the horn to impress his followers. How much of it is true is beyond me, but I think this is something we should keep a close eye on.”

“Has it ever been used?” Dany asks. 

“I don’t know. I’ve checked the reference library and found nothing.” 

“So the horn’s a sham?” Varys says. 

“We don’t know that,” I frowned. “A threat is a threat, regardless if it’s been documented or not.” I turned back to Dany. “Look, I’m telling you all I know. There’s possibly a Dragonbinder out there and it could turn your children against you.” 

Daenerys sighs, deep in thought. On one hand this could be a plausible threat. History has proven that anything that remains from Valyria could have the power to cause tremendous change while on the other hand, no one really knows if it exists and if it’s an actual threat to anyone. 

“If what you say is the truth then that means Euron and his men have a powerful weapon against me and my children. However, no one, but one man, knows where it is and we don’t know if it’s an actual threat or not. For now, we focus on the task at hand, Euron and the Dragonbinder can wait.” 

I nod, understanding. “Whatever you say, Your Grace.” 

––

The stars shone bright in the night sky, not a cloud in sight. The moon glimmered brightly, a perfect reflection in the deep ocean. It was one of those nights where everything was still, as if time had stopped. There was no sound, no wind, nothing, just pure silence. 

I took in a deep breath, relaxing my shoulders and leaned against the stone railing. My eyes trailed from the sky to the ocean, the beach, and then the cave entrance. Wagons and crates were left around along with what looked to be mining equipment. It wouldn’t be long until all of the Dragonglass would be mined away and then we’ll be marching North to face off against the Night King. 

“Hope I’m not interrupting you,” a voice called from behind. I turned around to see Daenerys walking closer to me. 

“No, you’re not.” I smiled. “It’s pretty late, shouldn’t you be asleep?” 

“I could ask you the same.” 

I turned back to stare off in front of me, “couldn’t sleep. Thought I would be able to after some fresh air, but the sleepiness hasn’t kicked in yet.” 

She comes to stand besides me, a comfortable silence falling over us. I looked back down at the cave entrance. 

“Since I’ve came here I've been debating whether the Gods are cruel or kind.” I let out a sigh. “On one hand, they’ve taken me from my friends, family, my home. The other, I’ve been given the opportunity to rewrite history, and right the wrongs of mankind.” I let out a humorless laugh and turned towards Dany. “But regardless of what’s happened, I’m glad I’m here to help you and make sure you don’t go through this alone.” 

She reached over to grasp my hand, reassuringly. I smiled, “whatever happens from here on out, I want you to know that. I love you, sister.”

Tears brimmed her eyes and she smiled. “I love you too. I pray that when this is over you can find a way back to your family.” 

“But you’d be all alone.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” She smiled bittersweet. “I’ve lost my family, I know the pain. I can’t have you going through that.” 

I swallowed thickly, looking up and blinked away my tears. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the moon, above. 

I cleared my throat, “when I was a child, I visited my Ñāma, um my Grandmother, in Volantis. One night, when the sky was like this she told me a story about two sisters. The younger one was very sick and couldn’t be out during the day so she and her elder sister would go out at night, making sure not to go too far off from home. And every night, under the shade of a large tree, the elder sister would sing a lullaby to her little sister about the moon. And every night, the younger sister would say ‘The sun is for everyone, but we have the moon,’ and she’d fall asleep with a smile. One night, just like any other, the two sisters go out and the eldest sings a lullaby, except this time, the younger one never opens her eyes and passes in her sleep. And for the rest of her life, the eldest sister, before going to bed, would sing a lullaby to the moon, hoping it would reach her sister, because they always had the moon.” 

At this point tears were streaming down both of our faces, and I tried my best not to start crying. “Daenerys, wherever we are, we’ll always have the moon.” 

We both burst into tears, pulling each other into a tight embrace, crying in each other's arms under the glimmering moon.

so i've recently composed a "soundtrack" for this series (i put soundtrack in "" bc it's more like a medley) i'm thinking abt working on it while i work on this series, but lmk if u all want to hear it when it's complete or when i've given up.

ALSO!! since we're approaching the height of series (and the end) what should my next game of thrones/asoiaf series be?

TAGLIST:

@wotcherpeak @music-luver25 @your-favorite-god @radiantdanvers @cluelessteam @daenerys713 @ministark @laanswife @idohknow @jromanoff @bdudette @bitchyfestivalbouquet @glitteryobjecttaco @cantbecreative @lovelyteenagebeard @the0twst0shrimp0mc @sucker4seresin @marytargaryen @naneko31 @9tailedfoxfire @iilsenewman @ivyrose9194 @coffee-is-my-oxygen @mysterypotatoink @bitchycolletorvoid @nattysplatty @wifiatthetrainstation @nymeriiiia @llynx7 @pookynknowntranger @riley-625-bell @myathegoat

[dedalvs]

My apologies, what I meant is that most of your languages are made for fantastic, fantasy worlds, as opposed to a fictional culture on Earth. If you're creating a language for a culture set on Earth, you'd probably incorporate features that tie it to a real language, am I correct?

I think you still may be misunderstanding what the key questions are and how they factor into language creation. There are two questions:

Is this language supposed to be descended from an existing language (or set of languages) on Earth?

Is this language spoken by creatures that are identical to humans in all the ways that play a crucial role in language use, comprehensijon, and transmission?

These are the only relevant questions. Notice I didn't say anything about where the languages are spoken. That bit is irrelevant. Language has its own geography and it's the only geography that matters when it comes to a posteriori language construction.

For example, looking at Dothraki, the answer to (1) is no, and the answer to (2) is yes. For that reason, Dothraki should be a language that looks entirely ordinary, in terms of how it stacks up with languages spoken currently on Earth, but its vocabulary and grammar shouldn't be directly related to any language on the planet. How could it be, if our planet doesn't exist in that universe? But since Dothraki are completely ordinary human beings their language should be a compeltely ordinary human language.

If you look at the aliens District 9, the answers to both (1) and (2) are no, despite the fact that the movie takes place in South Africa. And, in fact, you see some very interesting linguistic phenomena in that movie, where you have two species that understand but cannot use each other's languages. Its setting, though, doesn't mean that the alien language should be influenced by Afrikaans in any important way, though. It may have "borrowings", but even those would be strange (calques, most likely), since the aliens can't actually make human sounds—the same way the humans wouldn't have "borrowings" from the alien language.

On the other hand, if you look at Trigedasleng, the answers to both (1) and (2) are yes. But the suggestion you seem to be making is that I might kind of haphazardly "borrow" features from an existing language into a language that I'm nevertheless creating from scratch. That wouldn't make sense. Trigedasleng is simply an evolved form of American English with some specific constraints (some quite unrealistic, due to the scifi setting) placed on the evolution. I didn't "incorporate" features from American English: it IS American English, through and through, evolved in a way that makes sense for the setting.

There are certainly a posteriori conlangs where the creator approaches the creation of the language by saying, "I took the initial consonant mutation of Irish and combined it with the triconsonantal root system of Arabic and added the Turkish plural suffix (with vowel harmony) and added the accusative from Esperanto", and the like. This is one of the hallmarks of an amateur conlanger. Not even a creole language in the real world does this. Creole languages draw influences from many different languages, but the resulting system can't be divided up neatly into different linguistic sources. Furthermore, the result is a coherent system that doesn't look like any of the sources. Tok Pisin gets a lot of its vocabulary and grammar from English, but also gets vocabulary from German and other languages that were native to the region. When listening to the language, though, it's not like it sounds like English, then it suddenly sounds like German for a word, then it sounds like a Papuan language, then back to English: the whole thing sounds like Tok Pisin. It's a seamless, coherent system—just like any language, since all languages on Earth have borrowings and features from other languages.

Also, minor nitpick: "real" language doesn't make sense. We say natural language vs. constructed languages. Both are equally real, in that neither has any kind of material existence. A constructed language is a real language with a fake history.

Does this make sense?

[evaristo-velez]

Language

You may find this important as a reader, or you should. In genre fiction, we see constructed languages (conlang) used to flesh out a world or universe. Dothraki, Klingon, and Elvish were all undertakings by a group of linguists (or just one) to build rules and grammar.

Do you need such detail in your book? Maybe, maybe not. If it is, here are some things I thought over as a self-professed polyglot and general know-it-all.

Geography

Languages are shaped by where the humans are located. I'm a big proponent of (dialectical) materialism: the material world will shape how people and groups of people will act.

Examples? Okay!

One study showed ejective phonomes (close your mouth and make a sound, to put it crudely) were used in higher elevations. This is because the lower pressure found in such elevations allow these closed mouth sounds to project easier, also preventing a release of moisture — considered by some to be an evolutionary adaptation.

Whistle-speak is another interesting way humans adapted to their environment. Found in locations where humans are more isolated, whistles do not echo like shouts or claps, making it efficient over a large range.

Accents are similar, shifting voicings and inflection to suit the environment. Notable in a country as large as the United States of America, it is present in many other cultures. Those distinctions can immediately point out where someone is from and their background.

Yes, and?

Consider ways to characterize using language. For example, in my current book a character from California moves to Nebraska. This sort of culture shock is based on my childhood, moving from South Florida (as a Latino) to the Midwest.

Slang, idioms, and general idiosyncrasies were something I had to listen for. No one called fizzy fountain drinks 'soda' in Nebraska, they call it 'pop'. Distances were usually measured in minutes versus miles. "Y'all," "folk," and "visiting" were words I began adopting in the custom of Nebraskans.

Nobody from California would call it 'Cali' which an easily distinguish a west coaster from the average...anyone else. By the same measure, when I moved to Nebraska next to no one could say my (Latino) last name correctly, an issue I seldom encountered in a suburb of Miami, Florida.

Closing Thoughts

Small or large details can change how your world feels to the reader, especially if the character voices can vary as much as they do in real-life.

Next time you write out dialogue, think of the person's style and upbringing. Do they say "thank you" or "much obliged"? What do you call a fizzy fountain drink???

[demoncryptspanties]

Dorne Chapter 5

A/N: I'm not even sure why this took so long to get out. I have no concept of time or anything tbh but I'm not dead so that's great.

Pairings: Oberyn Martell x Female!Reader, Jaqen Hagar x Female!Reader, (Future!Ellaria Sand x Female!reader, Future!Sandor Clegane x female!Reader, Future!Tywin Lannister x Female!Reader)

Warnings: Bad spelling, violence, bad grammar, smut.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4

Word Count: 6649

Chapter 5

Secret secrets

The servants seemed to have vanished for whatever reason, and her brother and father appeared to be missing once more. She didn't want to sit in her thoughts and spiral without the facts, so she took one of the Dothraki children's stories, a translated dictionary, and a journal to sit in the garden. Her plans to educate herself were short-lived, as she instead went to look at the clouds and fell asleep under the morning sun.

Around midday, a shadow fell over her. She shifted her gaze away from the sun to allow her eyes to adjust, then up at the figure, patiently waiting for her to fully awaken.

“I was starting to believe that you no longer had an interest in me.” She looked up into his bright blue eyes with a frown. 

"That, my dear, would be impossible.” She sat up to accommodate him, taking note of the small box in his hand but feigning a lack of interest. He sat to her left, holding out a hand, which she ignored, but was still staring right at her. “You command my full attention. How am I supposed to think about the duties I have when in your presence?” 

She softened at his words, “There will come a day where your flattery won’t work.”

“And clearly that day is not today.”

She chuckled, unconsciously leaning into him, glancing discreetly at the box. He caught her gaze and smiled to himself.

“A gift for my lady.” He presented the box to her, simple and made from wood. There was no extravagant and detailed engraving, only the clear hand of an amateur wood carver. 

She took the box from him slowly, twisting it in her hand before slowly sliding open the top panel. There was a simple ring inside, cushioned by what appeared to be silk. The ring was silver and in the shape of a sun. There was a shallow engraving of a snake in the middle of the sun,  but aside from that, the band was plain. 

“It is truly beautiful, Jaquen.”

“Consider it a promise as well as a representation of a formal question.” He said while she put the ring on the middle finger of her left hand. 

“What promise?”

He let out a small hum, looking at the deep smile on her face before answering. "A promise that whenever I see or feel the sun, I will think of you, and, of course, this is me formally asking you to be my life partner and wife."

“Have you spoken to my father?”

“I will ask your permission first. It is a union; of course, I want you to be willing.” She put the box, which was still in her left hand, on her lap and turned to face him. His eyes were wide and his smile soft. There was a certain type of vulnerability that she hadn’t seen on anyone before. 

"The only answer is yes," she took his hand in hers, closing her palms around his larger ones while maintaining eye contact. Take me to your home and show me your culture, freedom, and world. I am and will always be wanting and willing."

He let out a quick sigh, smiling and looking away from her. He muttered something under his breath, but it didn’t appear to be the common language. He cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips against hers.

The lady jerked backwards slightly before leaning into him. She put a hand on his shoulder and caressed the back of his head with her other hand, tangling it in his hair. He pulled her toward him. They were so close, she thought she could hear his heart beating in time with hers. 

She pulled back slightly and hiked her dress up so that she could straddle his thighs. She pulled him again into a searing kiss, her hands braced on his shoulders. He leaned back a little too far and lost his balance, falling onto the soft grass. She giggled and gave him a soft peck, rolling off of him and looking up at the clouds. 

“Please, tell me about your travels. Tell me what you have already told me and what you have not.” She looked at him with a genuine interest, head cocked to the side, watching his lips with a small smile. 

“In due time, my love. Let me first ask you how your time was spent here without me.”

She sighed and shifted her gaze away from him, not quite in annoyance, but close. “Oberyn is to have another child.”

“Congratulations, he already has one?” The smile that had vanished so easily returned. 

“Two, this will be his third. I think a girl, yet again. I believe that man is incapable of producing boys.”

“And how do you feel?” His words were slow, and his eyes held a kindness that lacked the judgement of a normal man. 

"Of course I'm delighted; this is a new beginning for both him and me. I hope we can settle easily into this new dynamic.” She hoped to convey how much she meant that, but he watched so carefully that she was sure he saw the slight twitch in her smile. She trusted that he would see that as nervousness and not irritation. 

He made a note to himself to ask her again at another time and opted to change the subject instead, “You don’t think it is too soon?”

“Too soon?” She sat up on her left elbow and waited for him to laugh, though when he did not, she giggled and leaned into him, saying, "If my father was to have any say, we would have been formally engaged after our second meeting. Things that are right, that are fate, never come too soon; they only come when the time is just right."

“It sounds like there is much to be learned about your customs, and I look forward to discovering every part that is important to you.” 

She beamed down at him, not noticing how close she had ended up to him, not noting the way his eyes travelled to her lips, and definitely not feeling the light touch of his left hand tracing soft circles on her hip. The only thing she could concentrate on was the promise of his previous words, the pledge to always make an effort with her. She was unsure of what it was about the notion of something so basic that caused her to become lost in images of their future, her eyes fixed on the sea blue hue of his in the waning sun. 

He recognised the look in her eyes—the undercurrent of lust that she, herself, likely did not notice. “My love, the nights these days are cold, I wish for you not to become ill.”

“Jaqen, do you not want me?”

“Is my ring not proof enough?”

"No, but do you not want me?” 

He thought about teasing her with his faux ignorance of her feelings for a little longer, but decided against it. “I only want you; I will only ever want you, but I wish not to disrespect you until I’ve spoken to your father.”

“You will not be disrespecting me. We are not like the others in this kingdom, and I will not be tainted. It is not improper.”

“It would be improper of me not to talk to your father before we join our energies and spirits.” She conceded at that, nodding slowly but still bending down further so that her lips ghosted him.

He closed the distance and kissed her softly, letting their mouths move in languid and quiet motions, pulling her so that she was completely atop him. He let his hands wander conservatively, caressing the small of her back but stopping just before meeting her ass. She let her tongue run across his bottom lip, and he opened his mouth to accommodate her. A hand snaked up to the nape of her neck, and before she knew it, their positions were reversed, Jaqen trapping her on the ground. His lips swallowed her gasp, and his hair tickled her cheeks.

He jerked away, sitting up with his legs on either side of her. He was breathing hard but still took both his hands to the side of her face to kiss her again. She couldn't place the emotion in that kiss—not quite lust but also a certain type of desperation. He once again pulled away and leaned over her, tucking his hair behind his ears. 

“I fear I cannot kiss you any longer. You truly are intoxicating.” She looked up at him with a soft smile, running a finger over her bottom lip. His eyes followed the movement, and his thumb traced her actions. She puckered her lips, but his thumb had left them, instead tracing her jaw gently. 

“Cannot or will not?” He smiled at this, standing up and putting a hand out for her.

“You are a little vixen.” 

She took his hand, pulling herself up a smidge too hard and stumbling into him. “And I fear that you love me for it.”

“That I do.” She couldn't stop herself from leaning into his arm, hiding her face slightly. There was a childlike giddiness in her smile and step, though she could not tell whether he noticed that or not.

She walked through the back doors of her home, scanning the somewhat empty rooms as she led Jaqen to the front door. Her movements slowed, and she peered into one of the corridors that led to the kitchen. The sound of her brother's steps was burned into her memory, and she laughed to herself, pulling Jaqen in that direction instead. 

The kitchen doors were wide open, and the smell the space elicited was almost sickly sweet. “Aneera I think I burned it. I don’t think it’s supposed to look like that.”

“Aneera spun around, putting the rolling pin in her hand down. She winked at the two by the door and walked over to the fire that Oran was standing over. “It's not supposed to smell like that either. I turned around for less than a minute. How did you manage to burn it?”

Y/N gently tugged Jaqen towards the pastry on the table, putting her hands in a bowl of water near it to wash them. “What are we making, Aneera?”

Oran waved without looking at the sound of her voice and grumbled something under his breath. “They were supposed to be pastries, but this is the second time I've burnt the filling, so I’m not entirely sure they’ll have a centre." 

“They’ll be fine. Roll out the dough for me, my dear.” Aneera left the lady to her task and turned to Jaqen, who was watching with a smile, and said, “it is magnificent to finally meet you properly. You are just as handsome as I thought you would be.” 

"Aneera, please,” the lady said, smiling at the light pink tint on Jaqen’s cheeks. 

"I truly wish I could stay and talk to you properly, but I have somewhere to be," he said shyly, bowing his head slightly.

“I know, we have plenty of time to get to know each other properly. And you have plenty of time to practise your wood carving.”

Y/N immediately looked up at the box, which she had left on the far side of the table. “You carved it by hand and didn’t tell me?”

“I forgot; we were occupied with other things.”

"You're disgusting, in the garden, seriously," Oran whirled around, looking between the two lovers.”

“We didn’t do anything, Oran, stop being such a prude.” The siblings traded a look, which made both Jaqen and Aneera chuckle.

Jaqen walked up to the lady, putting his hands softly on her shoulders and  placing a tender kiss on the top of her head. “I am working tomorrow, but you are welcome to come for lunch.”

“I’ll bring some of the desserts if Oran does not burn them all.”

Oran grumbled something under his breath, and though nobody heard his exact words, everyone let out an easy laugh. Jaqen gave her another kiss and walked out of the room, showing himself out. After a minute, Y/N finally spoke up.

“Aneera, will I have children?” Her eyes were glued to her mother, and thus she missed the slight look of concern on Oran’s face. 

Aneera had a smile that became larger and larger until she was laughing to herself. “You, my child, are one of the most fertile women in all of the seven kingdoms. You should be happy about the divine timing of the Gods because you will never have any trouble in that regard.”

The lady's smile came back as quickly as it had left, and she continued to roll out the dough. “Aneera, your feelings for my father are so clear, why do you deny yourself that happiness?”

“I have never seen my own future, nor do I want to. It is the only area about which I am unsure; I guess you could say that I am afraid of the unknown.”

“You should take that leap. Since love is so unpredictable anyway, I guess for once you will be experiencing what the rest of us do. It is too beautiful and too brilliant a thing to deny yourself just because of fear.” Y/N looked at him with a slight surprise but let out a hum of agreement.

“At the very least, move into our home; you practically live here anyway.” Aneera thanked the two of them for their wise words but said nothing more on the subject. 

“I think that the filling is done.” Aneera rushed over to Oran, looking over the pan, and patted his back lightly. 

“I believe it is indeed.”

By the time that there were enough desserts made and packed for the servants and maids, the moon was high in the sky. Aneera retired into her room at the back of the house, leaving Oran and Y/N in the kitchen.

“Have you any plans tomorrow after your morning class?”

“No, why?” She looked into his eyes for any sign of mischief, but there was none. 

“Ayenna is free, and I am busy all day. Perhaps you could deliver these to her and spend the day with her because I remember the last time the day was cut short."

“Of course, Oran.” He smiled, nodding his head slowly. He got up, pulling the lady into a hug, and put the packaged desserts in her lap so that she would not forget. 

The lady studied the wooden box that Jaqen had given her while lying in bed. She hadn't noticed the shallow dips from where he probably tried to carve something but decided against it. She imagined the way he measured the lid and sanded down the sides. She wondered whether there was a reason he had chosen that wood, and that material for the interior. From what she knew of him, everything he did was intentional and calculated. She'd have to ask him about it the following day.  

The next day, she rode quickly after Oran told her that Ayenna wanted to meet her at the bakery. She didn't need an excuse to smell the freshly baked bread and pastries, and she was glad they could spend some time eating at one of her favourite restaurants in King's Landing. 

Ayenna wore a scarf in her hair, likely to keep her hair out of the food. Her brow had a hint of sweat on it, but she seemed calm rather than frazzled. The minute she noticed the lady watching her, a magnificent smile graced her face. 

“Y/N, I made some honeyed bread fresh for you.”

“Ayenna, I pray to the Gods that you stay in our family forever if you continue to spoil me like this.” Y/N swiped the bread from the counter, taking a generous bite. It was still warm and soft, with just the right amount of sweetness to make it seem unbelievably light.

“Did you make this? It tastes different than usual.” She said, tearing off another liberal piece. 

"Oh, if it's not to your taste, I’ll use the original recipe.” 

The lady shook her head in response, trying to finish the piece in her mouth before she began speaking. “No, no, it’s wonderful. Whatever you did, please keep doing it.” 

She thought that Ayenna’s smile could not get wider, but it did and she nodded shyly to herself. The lady finished her meal with a glass of honeyed wine, asking questions about the baking process and the shop itself, as Ayenna shaped dough and pastries with a delicate hand. 

The lady turned at the light footsteps that entered the cafe and saw the familiar face of Ayenna’s mother. “Ah Maliya, your daughter makes the absolute best honey bread.”

“My lady, that is precisely why I am happy it is her rather than her sister who will take over this place.” Maliya’s face revealed a slight frown. She turned to her daughter and opened her mouth to say something more, but decided against it, instead choosing to grumble to herself. 

“I have yet to meet this elusive sister.”

“She was sick the last time we met, and she remains just as evasive to us. That woman is hopeless, truly. The only person who can ever catch her is Ayenna here.”

Ayenna said nothing, instead finishing the batch of food she was cooking before taking off her apron. She whispered something to her mother and excitedly led the lady out of the door. “Is there somewhere specific you wish to go, or shall we wander around the streets of Dorne.”

“I have been meaning to go to the market again. There is something I wish to inquire about.” She began unlacing her horse, but Ayenna stopped her with a gentle hand to the shoulder.

“Oh, is it possible that we do something else today? There is someone I wish to avoid.”

“A jealous past lover.” The lady said with a smile. 

Ayenna smiled politely in return and said, "Something like that.”

“Perhaps a walk then? Down one of the rivers? We can stop by the grape brothel so that I may drop off these desserts to Jaqen. Oh, I forgot to tell you about yours. I left them on the counter.”

“That is fine, my mother would have noticed them, and of course, a walk sounds lovely. It would give us time to talk.” Ayenna was wringing her hands together, fiddling with one of the many rings that adorned her fingers. 

The lady turned to her in an attempt to catch her eye. "Is there something in particular that you wanted to talk about?” 

“Yes, I’ve been meaning to tell you since we met, although I wanted you to get to know me first.” The lady still kept a soft smile on her face, there was no hostility or anger within Ayenna that she could tell and thus she felt as though whatever the problem may be, it would be something that was easily fixed. 

“In your own time, Ayenna.” 

Ayenna bowed her head graciously and let a cheeky smile engulf her features. “Though you seemed extremely cheery this morning.”

The lady took a minute to answer, eventually nodding to herself and saying, “If I tell you, you mustn't say anything to my brother just yet.”

“My lady, I wouldn't dare now, please; I am dying to know.”

“I am formally engaged now. Jaqen designed the ring and carved the box himself; I could not have asked for a better partner than him, and now I am truly to be married." Once the words started flowing out of her mouth, she could not stop. Remembering to hold her gesticulations as her teachers had taught her, she let her excitement show through her smile and tone.

“Well, I never doubted that for a second”

“Yes, well, as much as it feels like I have known you forever, we only met a few moons ago. I never imagined myself in this position or feeling this content. Of course, my mother is well known as an oracle throughout Dorne, and yet I couldn't bring myself to believe her after I fell in love with Oberyn, but this just feels so deeply right; I finally know the direction my life is taking, and I can hope and dream and imagine a different type of happiness."

“That is truly beautiful, my lady, and I am so glad that you feel this way,” Ayenna’s features were soft, not quite displaying the same enthusiasm but still polite and happy.

The lady had not noticed how close they were to the brothel until the women in sheer purple walked towards them in the street. The lady practically ran, with Ayenna chasing reluctantly behind her, and walked into the brothel. The lady gently refused the services of the women she knew and asked where Jaqen was. 

The two were led by a woman, whom the lady did not recognise, into a small office at the back of the building. One would think that Jaqen had wished to keep his business and pleasure separate, but the sheer curtains that led into a room with a plush bed said otherwise. 

The lady shared a look with Ayenna before motioning to the seat at the desk. Ayenna sat down while Y/N looked around the room. It was mostly barren; he clearly didn't spend much time here, and she felt that there were little secrets in this place waiting to be discovered. 

Jaqen walked through the door with a slight flourish, a smile on his face as he made his way to the lady, not pausing to acknowledge Ayenna. He gathered her in his arms and gave her a long kiss before the lady pushed him off, motioning vaguely towards Ayenna. 

“I apologise, my love. We are only here to drop these off.”

“Will you not enjoy them with me?”

“Not this time; I wish to talk to my sister, and I wanted to run this errand first.” Y/N missed the small smile that graced Ayenna’s face. She sat uncomfortably in the seat as though she were waiting for Jaqen to throw her out of it. 

“Is that all I am to you? An errand.” He said slyly, laying a hand lightly on the woman's chin to tilt her head towards him.

"Yes, an errand that I am quite finished with for the moment.”

He scoffed and let her chin go, looking at her with his head tilted and saying, “I shall miss your company until we next meet.”

“No need for the dramatics; you will be waking up next to me every day until we die as soon as we marry.”

“And that will not happen soon enough.” Neither woman could hide the smile at his words, albeit for different reasons. 

Ayenna stood up, drawing attention to herself, and began to leave the room when Jaqen called out, "Ayenna, is it? Sorry, but you look strangely familiar, though I'm almost certain we've never met."

“I have been told I have that sort of face that you see constantly in a crowd. I can assure you, my lord, that we have never met.”

Jaqen's disgust was obvious, and his change in expression made the lady laugh heartily. “Please, I am no lord; I am just a commoner like you, a merchant and traveller. Please do not address me with formalities that are inappropriate for my position."

"You heard him, Ayenna; he is but a traveller," she gestured for Ayenna to leave the room and moved to follow her, Jaqen taking steps in time with her and sliding his arms around her middle. “If the traveller is ever weary enough to warrant a certain type of relaxation, he knows where to go,” she whispered into his ear, kissing his jaw lightly. 

She attempted to slide out of his arms, but he only held on to her tighter, waiting until Ayenna turned back to the two and then moved so that she would leave the brothel. “Must you truly leave now?”

“You are acting as though I am going on a long journey away from you. I will see you soon.”

“It will not be soon enough.”

“You truly have a way with words, my love.”

“And I will make an effort to make you feel this way with them until the end of my days.” He pecked her lips and walked back into his office, allowing the lady to leave the premises. 

She was still in clear sight of the brothel when Jaqen called out to her, “I am taking you for the evening. Be ready by dusk, I’ll pick you up from home.” The lady nodded to convey that she had heard and went on walking with a smile on her face.

“He truly seems obsessed with you.” Ayenna said, walking in time with the lady.

“I suppose, in the way that my brother is with you, correct?”

Ayenna smiled to herself but looked down towards the ground. “He loves differently, but I suppose yes, in his own way he is indeed.”

“Have you met Jaqen? He is not one to forget a face.” Ayenna looked directly at the lady with her response. 

"No, I have not; I truly believe that I must look like someone else that he knows.” The lady looked for any sign that Ayenna was lying but hummed to herself when her face was as honest as she would have expected. 

The two walked across one of the canals, talking about the men in their lives, until the sun was at a point where the lady needed to be home to be ready. Ayenna said that she would walk the lady home so that she could talk to Oran. The lady took this as a chance to ask what she really wanted, as Ayenna would have little time to skirt around the subject before they got to the house.

“Your sister, why is it that I have yet to meet her.”

“I didn’t want to take the chance that you knew each other. I just wanted us to be secure in our relationship first to decrease any possible awkwardness. I hope that she will be less busy soon so that I may properly introduce you to her.”

“Your sister, what is her name?”

Ayenna hesitated, which the lady caught, and she said her name under her breath. The lady hummed to convey she had not heard the woman, and Ayenna said again, louder this time, “Alaiana.” 

The lady searched her mind for recognition in the sound of the name, but there was none. She figured she'd have to talk to Mara at some point to see if she knew who this Alaiana girl was. 

“Sorry to ask so many questions, but you have wanted to tell me something for so long. I fear that if I don’t push for it now, we will never get to the bottom of this matter.”

“Honestly, it was about my sister. I believe it would be better for you to meet her first and then you will know.”

“I had a feeling.” 

“You are known to be something of an oracle or soothsayer. Some say your family is descended from Gods.”

“Do you believe that?”

“If I believed that, I would not be keeping secrets from you like this.” Ayenna smiled nervously, hoping that the lady would understand her tone and how she meant her words. She let out a small sigh of relief when Y/N laughed heartily. 

Oran seemed to get back from whatever he was doing all day at the same time the women did. He rode onto the grounds with a small entourage of people the woman did not recognise but did not question, letting dust and sand gather in the air.

“Oran, do you wish to ruin all of my clothes with your foolery?”

One of the men with Oran laughed and then bowed his head politely at her, saying, “my lady, he was simply losing a race.”

“I won actually,” the other men all grumbled in disagreement as Oran laughed. He lowered himself from his horse and pulled Ayenna into a passionate embrace. 

“I believe I will leave you and your friends to whatever it is you wish to be doing and take my leave.”

"Bye, my lady,” Ayenna said with a grin, and the rest of the men echoed a similar response. 

She walked the winding staircase into her room and flung open the wardrobe to look at the evening dresses she had yet to wear. She called in one of the maids to help her look, and the two discussed what would be good for an evening that you could not prepare for. 

They chose a simple silver gown, which they paired with silver bodice jewellery, the stones Jaqen had gotten her, and a massive gem of a necklace that Oberyn had insisted she own the moment he saw it. The woman looked into the glass on her far wall and decided she reminded herself of the moon. She walked to her balcony to relish the colour of the sun in the clouds. It made her wonder, how those who believe in the Lord of Light, must have looked at the sun and seen its power. She decided it was most likely dusk by now and pulled one of the shorter books that she had yet to finish and read. 

Her immersion in the world provided by the pages, however, was brief, as a servant quickly knocked on the door, saying that her visitor had been accosted by the group of men with her brother. 

She practically ran down the stairs, not being too careful with her steps, and stopped short of the last step right in front of her betrothed. 

“Hi,”

“Hello dearest.” He extended his arms and drew her into a hug off the steps. Neither of them noticed the look that her brother was giving them from behind one of his friends. 

“Stay safe sister.”

“I can handle myself, brother.”

Jaqen held out an arm and led her to his horse, gesturing her to the brown stallion she had seen before but had no name for. “Your horse has a name yes,”

“If he does, I do not know it, when he learns to speak, that will be the first question I ask,” she hit his arm playfully and mounted the horse.

Jaqen sat behind her, speeding the horse through the dirt roads and lush fields. They seemed to go completely out of the city, and the lady just let the wind in her hair lull her into a sense of peace. She would have spoken but was sure he would not be able to hear her, so she leaned back into him, caressing one of his hands that were on the reins, and smiling up at him as gracefully as she could at that angle.

The journey seemed brief, but she was unfamiliar with her surroundings. They were in a clearing, and there were hedges by a river that made the area seem isolated and private, as if it were their own private garden. He'd laid out a large piece of cloth for her to sit on, along with a basket of fruits and two bottles of Dornish wine. The area was lit up with candles, and the basket held a bouquet of flowers. 

He got off the horse first and then helped her down with strong arms. 

“Jaqen, this place is beautiful; where did you find it? Who set it up for you?” The smile on her face was unmatched, and she had to stop herself from gasping every time she took in a new detail. The entire area seemed as though it had come from a dream, and she realised that this was exactly how she was supposed to feel whenever she was around him. 

“I had a few conversations with your brother; he said that he had travelled the area around your home and found it accidentally.” He led her to the cloth on the floor and sat across from her, pouring wine for both of them into silver goblets that were also in the basket. 

"I was so taken with your beauty when I first saw you that I didn't tell you how lovely you are. I cannot wait to see you reflected in the moonlight.”

“You flatter me in a way I am not entirely sure I deserve. You are a God among men, a lover from the legends."

“Must you try to one-up me even in compliments, dearest?”

“I wish to see your cheeks redden and lips pull into a smile as often as I can, Jaqen.”

“You do that simply by existing; I need no flattery from you.”

“And you're complaining about my flattery. By the Gods, Jaqen, I feel as though you wish for me to collapse.” The two laughed heartily, and she began to lay out the fruits but squealed when she saw what was under them. There was a selection of cheeses, some of which she had not seen before. They were a delicacy she was somewhat used to, but Dorne only had so many types, and she was certain she had read about one of them that was from Highgarden, judging by its shape.

“Is everything alright?” He had taken in her expression but misread it, leading to a look of concern.  

“Is this cheese from Highgarden?”

“Yes..” He was unprepared for the force she used to propel herself towards him. She wrapped her arms as tightly as she could around his shoulders as he stumbled back into the grass behind them, taken aback by the gesture. “If I knew something as simple as cheese would have made you act this way, I would not have spent this time courting you.”

“Jaqen, I have hardly known you for a time normal enough to result in a proposal.”

“We, dearest, are not normal people, and thus there is no reason that we should behave as though we are.” She leaned into him, giving him a soft peck, before sitting up and immediately beginning to gorge herself on the foods that he had brought. 

“So tell me, Jaqen, about your travels, and do not leave out a single detail.”

"We'll be here for a long time then," he said softly.

“And I will cherish every moment that I get to be with you.”

By the time she noticed that time had actually passed, the food was mostly gone and the stars were high in the sky. They had moved so that Jaqen lay in her lap; his white hair shone as she would have imagined snow to, and his red waves seemed the colour of blood. She gently ran her fingers through his hair, twirling the ends. 

She looked up at the sky and pointed upwards, “would you like to hear a story, my love.”

“I would like anything as long as it comes from your lips.” She cleared her throat and attempted to hide the smile but by the look in his eyes she knew she didn't well enough. 

“It’s a love story about the north star.”

“Are those not the best kind?”

“The north star is the brightest star in the sky,”

“Yes,” she stopped at the sound of his voice and raised an eyebrow. He put his hands up and laughed to himself.

“It guides us home, and that is all because of a sailor who loved harder than any person thought capable. His wife was a barmaid at a seaside tavern, which is how they met. One time, just before he left, she asked him how he always found his way back to her on time, and he said he just always knew. He closed his eyes and thought of her, and she always showed him his way home. She was pregnant at this point, their first child, and he was to do one final trading journey before he took a break to take care of her. She said she had a bad feeling, but he said that he knew the sea just as well as he knew her, and so he left. ” She looked down at his blue eyes and lost her concentration at the pure and complete attention he was giving her. Unable to stop herself, she bent over, met his plush pink lips, and whispered an 'I love you' before continuing without giving him a chance to speak..

“Anyway, they inevitably blew into a storm. One that was wild and dangerous, more dangerous than any he had encountered in his lifetime of sailing. The majority of the crew survived, but they became so disoriented that this man, who knew the sea better than anyone, couldn't figure out which way to go. He was now panicking because the storm had caused him to be gone for much longer than expected, and he didn't want to miss the birth of his child, but the days turned into weeks and they still hadn't seen land. He accepted the fact that he would most likely miss his child's birth and prayed to the gods to show him the way home. That same night, he had a dream in which his wife told him she loved him and asked him to come home, and when he said he was lost, she told him to look up to the night sky and she would show him the way home. That is exactly what he did. The stars were bright, but there was a new one in the sky, brighter than the moon, and every member of the crew swore they'd never seen anything like it before. They waited for it to move before following it on a whim. It eventually led them home, but what awaited him was a baby with grey eyes like a constellation of stars and the grave of his wife, who had led him home to his son."

“That was rather sad, don't you think?” He sat up, gathering her in his arms so that she sat in his lap.

“It's sad, but it is truly beautiful. Would you become a star for me, Jaqen?" She trailed kisses along his jawline, and he lost his concentration for a moment. 

His right hand came to cup the bottom of her jaw, tilting her head up at him. “I would become the moon if the gods would allow it.”

“And I hope you should never have to ask.” 

“Do you think you will have a love like the stories?”  He asked, cupping her face in his hands. 

“I believe that this is only the beginning of one.”

“You truly have a way with words, dearest.”

“It is from the stories and lives they have allowed me to live.” He ghosted over her lips, but she spoke again before they could lose themselves in each other. “How do you envision your future?”

“That is a big question, dearest. I only wish to love as much as I can and discover the world in more ways than one lifetime will allow. I never knew my true parents, and so I want to live enough lives for them as well.”

She hummed at him and did not allow him to ask her the same question back. Instead, she gave him a soft and slow kiss before she rose, holding a hand out, and said, “It is getting late; I believe that I am due home.”

He gave her the same hum and took her hand, pulling her back down and kissing her again before reversing their position. She giggled, and the two rode home calm and full of joy.

[multiversetravelingjournalist]

Language Construction Kit and The Art of Language Invention. A personal comparison

First off, this is not an Essay by definition of my high school. This is a rambling thought dump from a man who still feels novice in the craft of artificial languages. that said, I have recently read both Mark Rosenfelder's series to (somewhat) completion and David J. Peterson's book. I will say again that this is a personal opinionated take rather than an objective critique. I also invite both authors and readers to give their opinions as well. That said, let me compare.

The Language Construction Kit (LCK) was the first book I read on the subject of conlanging. at the time I was even more of a Novice so most of the terms flew over my preteen head. but after exposing myself to linguistic material of all types, I can say for certain that it is a good explanation of the technical terms one would stumble across in their research for inspiration. not only that but it being the first in a series of (so far) four other books means overall that there is a lot of ground to cover. those other three being the Advanced Language Construction (ALC), Conlanger's Lexipedia, and Syntax construction. However, it can be inconvenient to need all four books to experience the full range of advice the author has to offer (especially if one relies on Library Loan-outs, like myself).

Personally, I favor the Lexipedia because it is the only Rosenfelder book that my Library owns (for now). showing me the full range of semantics and meanings to make my conlangs' vocabulary unique. a close second would be the Syntax Construction Kit, for the one list that shows all the different ways grammar could be marked on a language. The LCK and ALC are also good for going through the overall basics of ones own conlang. however I have found sources online that cover some of the subjects in the same way. still nice to have around for a check list though.

The Art of Language invention is the second book I have read on the subject. What feels to me like a personal exploration of language creation from a creative view rather than a technical one. also covers things I feel are missed in the Rosenfelder series, one of those subjects being grammatical evolution which personally interests me. the book also goes over some (hopefully not dated) real world references as examples or inspiration. Such as explaining the creation of words from old ones like calling a pizza topping that falls off at the last moment a "DiCaprio". Or how a certain hotel has lead to "-gate" deriving as "a scandal associated with the word". I feel that these references work for approaching unusual features in a language in a way that makes sense. the conclusion at the end is also inspiring for comparing language construction to art, in that art can have many genres. Naturalism being used for paintings and certain conlangs leading to the questions of what a cubist conlang would be like? then asking if a popular piece of media had its own (sets of) conlang(s). I am glossing over most of it.

The biggest strength of the Art of Language construction, though, in my personal opinion, would be that of the four chapters dividing the book, each one ends with an example of the author's own process of approaching said subject from their own works. The phonology of Dothraki, the Vocabulary of Irathient, the Grammar of High Valyrian, and the Writing system of Castithan. reading these sections makes me feel that I too can find a way to approach whatever obstacles arise from my own works.

That is all I have to say, each book has its strengths and weaknesses, but I consider all of them to be useful in the self-education of conlanging. I do recommend them; I also recommend searching through linguistic sources mentioned in the books as further education.

Thanks for reading, and till next time... ;).

[findroleplay]

Hello everyone, I am looking for a few fandoms! Some are very niche! I am open to canon divergence, alternate universes, or making our own universe based off basics from the fandom! I am also looking for some original plots based on some vibes/themes listed below. I require a writing sample! I am looking for advanced novella (discord limit at least 2x please, acceptable grammar, etc). All writers and characters will be 18+! I do prefer FxF but MxF is okay if the characters mesh well together! I DO NOT double, other than that I have no requirements, no triggers, etc. Characters I write as are listed first, followed by who I ship them with!

Fandoms:

1. Harry Potter:

Hermione Granger x Draco Malfoy, Tom Riddle, Harry Potter.

Narcissa Black x Lily Evans, Alice Longbottom

2. Avatar: The Last Airbender

Princess Azula x Sokka, Suki, Katara, Aang.

3. John Wick

John Wick x Female OC

Male/Female OC x Male/Female OC

4. (Horror): The Perfection, Prom Night, The Descent, Cabin In The Woods, etc.

Male/Female OC x Male/Female OC

5. Resident Evil

Sheva Alomar x Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine

Jill Valentine x Chris Redfield, Carlos Olivera, Claire Redfield

Rain Ocampo x Alice Abernathy

Leon Kennedy x Ada Wong

Male/Female OC x Male/Female OC

6. Disney's Holes

Female OC x Female OC

7. Twilight

Rose x Leah, Bella

Male/Female OC x Male/Female OC

8. Game of Thrones

Dothraki Male/Female OC x Male/Female OC

9. Narnia

Susan Pevensie x Female OC

Other Fandoms, Inspiration/Vibes: Harper's Island, Yellow Jackets, The Wilds, The 100, Star Trek, Star Wars, Prisoners, Novitiate, Lost and Delirious, Disobedience, Brokeback Mountain, The Covenant, etc.

Original Plot

Vibes/Themes:

Religion, Religious trauma, Angst, Horror, Psychological Horror, Enemies to Lovers, Childhood best friends to lovers, Opposites Attract, Modern, Supernatural, Euphoria Vibes, etc.

Honestly, anything dark and icky and cute and sweet, something interesting that has a lot of plot development, character development, lots of angst, fluff, soulmates! :)

Hope to hear from you! Please like or send a writing sample and what you're interested in to azula#8183 on discord!

_

[westeroswisdom]

David and Jessie Peterson are the go-to people when a TV series or film needs a constructed language or conlng.

From Dothraki and Valyrian in "Game of Thrones" to the Chakobsa desert tongue in "Dune", American couple David and Jessie Peterson have devised numerous imaginary languages -- apparently the only two people in the world who earn a living concocting fantasy grammar and vocabulary for film characters. Immortal lines from the "Game of Thrones" scripts such as: "You are my last hope, blood of my blood," plunge viewers deeper into the series' fantastical world when uttered in the original Dothraki: "Yer athzalar nakhoki anni, zhey qoy qoyi." In Dune, the Fremen desert warriors roll the "r" in their Chakobsa tongue -- the name comes from a real ancient hunter's language that inspired author Frank Herbert in writing the original series of "Dune" books. But Herbert and Game of Thrones novelist George R. R. Martin only included a few words of these fantasy languages in their pages -- it was the Petersons who fully developed them for the screen. "Languages can be fun. Often I think languages are treated very seriously," said David Peterson. "People can laugh if they make a mistake." [ ... ] A trained linguist, Peterson landed his first paid assignment to develop Dothraki by winning a competition in 2009. Speaking at a masterclass during a television series festival in the French city of Lille, the Petersons described how they devise languages by discussing the characters' environment, backgrounds and the objects they use. From there, "we extrapolate," David Peterson said. Tasked with inventing a language which sounded like fire for the Pixar cartoon "Elemental", for example, Jessie Peterson formed words from a series of sounds like explosions and matches.  [ ... ] Could artificial intelligence get the work done faster? "It would be more work to train the AI to actually produce a small amount of things. You might as well use that time to create the language on your own," David Peterson said. Jessie Peterson agreed: "The beauty of language is that it is inherently human and there is no reason I want to take humanity out of language."

That last comment by Jessie Peterson rings true. Human languages have taken unexpected and quirky turns in their developments. We may complain about irregular verbs, highly idiomatic expressions, and confusing constructions, but such things happen naturally. And it might take more time to instruct AI to include such human oddities in a particular conlang than to simply create them yourself.

[thorinsghivashel]

🤔🤔🤔Can you imagine in 1000 years someone finding pages/scrolls/books of all the fictional languages that were ever made and introduced in movie universes and that someone is like "look I found an ancient language!!!!" or like "Wow people back in 2023 were speaking Sindarin/Dothraki/Elder/Mandalorian/Black Speech etc etc etc ......"? Just a thought... would be cool if even someone tried in 1000 years to revive these languages like if they have been always spoken in our days!! (but in fact they've never been real thing in this world). It's amazing that there is such a huge amount of made up fictional languages that will never be spoken by real people. I mean look at the fantasy languages we have now the have a pretty nice number of words, phrases, there are even grammars and syntaxes in some cases. Enough reasons for Sindarin or Quenya for example, being real freakin languages. How do we know if the ancient languages that we try to rebuild weren't just fictional too and people 1000 years ago have been using them just to tell their stories? Maybe that's why we get only small fragments of them because they have never been finished or really spoken 🤔🤔🤔🤔

[vasco-portable-translators]

Languages of Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon — High Valyrian, Dothraki and more

To say that Game of Thrones was a popular TV series is to say nothing about it. It was adapted from the bestselling "Ice & Fire" saga by American author, George R.R. Martin, and aired on HBO in 2010-2019 through 8 seasons. The show's presence in the media was a worldwide phenomenon, influencing almost all sectors of the current pop culture. At its peak, the show was broadcasted in 207 countries and averaged almost 44 million viewers for its final season (Forbes, 2019 & Hollywood Reporter, 2022). Even though the ending of the show left most fans disappointed, the prequel show House of the Dragon has attracted the audience of 20 million for its first aired episode on August 23rd, 2022. Needless to say, it bodes well for the franchise's future. As dive deep in the plot lines of Westeros, we once again encounter its fictional languages, like High Valyrian. Hearing it might sound weirdly familiar for some - and not just because it was already present in Game of Thrones. FAQ: Did Game of Thrones make up languages? Yes, Game of Thrones features a number of fictional languages. They are, for instance, High Valyrian, Low Valyrian, and Dothraki. Which language is commonly spoken in Game of Thrones? The majority of characters in Westeros use the Common Tongue, which is represented by the English language. Is High Valyrian a real language? High Valyrian is a fictional language crafted by the Game of Thrones show linguist, David J. Peterson. Is Daenerys speaking a real language? Daenerys uses the Valyrian language, which is a fictional tongue constructed by David J. Peterson, the GoT show's linguist. How many languages does Arya Stark speak? Arya Stark speaks the Common Tongue fluently, in addition to knowing the basics of High Valyrian, Braavosi, Pentoshi, and Lyseni. What language is Valyrian similar to? The Valyrian language is based on the Latin and Greek languages. What language is Dothraki based on? David J. Peterson explained that the grammar of Dothraki is similar to Russian, but the vocabulary is based on the Genghis-Khan Mongolian language to reflect their nomadic lifestyle similarity. So, this begs a few questions. Is Valyrian a real language? If it's invented, does it take after existing languages? What is the difference between High Valyrian, low Valyrian, and old Valyrian language? Is High Valyrian somehow related to Dothraki language? Let's find the answers to all these questions! What languages are spoken in Game of Thrones? To answer that question, we could dive deep into the lore, but let's just focus on the languages we actually hear in the show and that were developed for its sake. Speak More Languages Now The most prominent languages of Westeros & Essos are: - Common tongue of the Andals. Both in the books and the shows, this language is represented simply by English, and interestingly enough, it has a similar origin. - High Valyrian. In the Game of Thrones, Daenerys is the last known speaker of this old language, which may imply it dies with her. Though it's not completely true, as this language is preserved by the written sources. High Valyrian gets much more screen time in House of the Dragon, as it's used by the whole Targaryen family. - Low Valyrian / Bastard Valyrian. These are the dialects that evolved out of Valyrian after it fell out of use. - Dothraki. It is spoken by the nomadic horse-mounted warriors in the lands of Essos. - Skroth. The language used by the White Walkers. Even though there was a whole Skroth language created, the producers decided to use literal ice creaking as White Walker's tongue. Now that we know what languages are there in the Seven Kingdoms, let's find out more about them. Is Valyrian a real language? No. Valyrian a fictional language developed for the TV series Game of Thrones by saga's author Geroge R.R. Martin and a language creator David J. Peterson. Still, Valyrian in Game of Thrones is meant to work as a regular language. It has eight cases (nominative, accusative, genitive, dative, locative, instrumental, comitative and vocative) with six declensions. It also has four grammatical genders of sorts (lunar, solar, terrestrial and aquatic), but they are not connected to biological sex but rather their type. It also has four numbers (singular-paucal-collective-plural). Valyrian writing system is the same as Latin, as creators didn't need to incorporate a unique alphabet in the show. What language is Valyrian similar to? It's no coincidence that Valyrian sounds like a language that could exist in our world. You may wonder, is Valyrian a romance language? You wouldn't be far from the truth. The Valyrian language is fictitious, but it is based on the Latin and Greek languages. What's more, David J. Peterson explained that in order to make Valyrian seem like a living language, he implied the existence of many dialects of it. The most prominent is the Low Valyrian dialect used by common people in Slaver's Bay. So, all of it should answer the question of what language is Valyrian similar to. What's the difference between High Valyrian language and Low Valyrian dialects? High Valyrian is the ancient language spoken in the past by the Valyrians of Essos. Nobles of the house Targaryen come from Valyria and therefore, they learn High Valyrian as a sign of their status. For the same reason, they have Valyrian names, e.g. Aegon, Daenerys, Rhaenyra etc. However, outside of elite's circles, High Valyrian fell out of use. It has evolved into the new dialects in the Free Cities and Ghis, resulting into so-called Low Valyrian or Bastard Valyrian languages. Considering that there are nine cities, we can expect that there are nine dialects of Valyrian in Game of Thrones with unique grammar and structure. Is High Valyrian an ancient language? Technically, yes. High Valyrian is the term of a dead language used in the old Valyria. In the House of the Dragon, only the high-born (mostly Targaryens) can speak and read in it. All the other Valyrian languages that change overtime are considered to be Low Valyrian dialects. Where are Valyrian languages used in Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon? Throughout the Game of Thrones, Low Valyrian is spoken in the Free City of Braavos, on the Iron Islands, and in Slaver's Bay. High Valyrian is only known by Daenerys. In the House of the Dragon, the High Valyrian is used by the whole Targaryen family and probably the closest court nobles, though we don't see them speak it on-screen. Instead, most often we see Rhaenyra and Daemon using it. High Valyrian phrases Source Meaning Literal meaning Valyrio muño ēngos ñuhys issa Valyrian is my mother tongue - Ñuhor līr gūrēnn I will take what is mine. - Vīlībāzmosa iderennī emilun I would like a trial by combat - Ao ynoma dīnilūks? Will you marry me? - Sōnar mastan Winter is here - Skoriot rāenābion ilza? Where's the bathroom? - Vēzos qēlossās ñuho My beloved (relating to a man) My sun and stars Ñuho glaeso hūrus My beloved (relating to a woman) Moon of my life Skorkydoso glaesā? How are you? - Sesīr kipi! An now, we ride! - Se ribazma iksis se ossēnagon hen zūgagon Fear is the mind killer - Nerni ōrēs Hold the door - Bantis zōbrie issa se ossȳngnoti lēdys The night is dark and full of terrors - What is Dothraki language similar to? The language of Dothraki was the first language created by David J. Peterson for the Game of Thrones. He explained, that its grammar is mostly similar to Russian, but the vocabulary is heavily inspired by Genghis-Khan Mongolian language to reflect their nomadic lifestyle similarity. Apart from that, the creator of Dothraki language described that its speech is designed to sound similar to Arabic languages, borrowing the characteristic growl and breathy sounds. The Dothraki language is, no surprise, used by the Dothraki tribes and Daenerys once she learns it while being Khal Drogo's wife. Dothraki phrases Source Meaning Literal meaning Anha dothrak chek asshekh I feel well today I ride well today Hajas! Goodbye! Be strong! Shekh ma shieraki anni My beloved (relating to a man) My sun and stars Jalan atthirari anni My beloved (relating to a woman) Moon of my life Shor tawakof Armor Steel dress Ase shafki athdrivar Your wish is my command Your words are death Sek, k’athjilari Yes, certainly Yes, by rightness Vos. Vosecchi! No. No way! - Me nem nesa It is known - Hash yer dothrae chek asshekh? How are you? Do you ride well today? Hash me laz adakha jin zhoris? Are those hearts edible? - Me zisosh disse It's just a flesh wound - Anha vazhak yeraan thirat I will let you live - Hash yer asti k’athijilari? Are you speaking truthfully? - What are the other popular fictional languages? Even though the languages of Westeros & Essos are getting so popular now, this is not the first time that a fictional language is created for a book or a TV show. These are the most popular ones: - Quenya Tolkien created many languages for his fictional world of Middle Earth (and beyond), but Quenya is the most widely spoken language among elves, and, interestingly enough, the fans. Quenya grammar is simple and regular, with a syntax that's similar to Finnish; the alphabet has thirty-two letters without any distinction between uppercase or lowercase letters. - Klingon Klingon is the constructed language spoken by the fictional Klingons in the 'Star Trek' universe. It was developed by Marc Okrand from 1984 onwards, improving the previously functioning gibberish. - Na'vi The Na'vi language was created by the film's director, James Cameron, and is spoken mainly by the inhabitants of Pandora in the 'Avatar' universe. The intent was to create a language that could express all the nuances and emotional content of English, but which would be completely unique in sound and structure. - Minion language Although it was created more as a joke than anything else, the Minion language became a phenomenon ever since it appeared in the Despicable Me movie in 2010. Its vocabulary contains words that are similar to those in several languages, however it doesn't seem to have any consistent grammar or syntax rules. Why are languages like High Valyrian invented? There are many reasons why authors and creators invent fictional languages. Let's take a look at some of the most prominent reasons. Unique world-building Some might want to create a new culture with its own language to build a unique world. They might want to give their characters an identity that is separate from their own, to create a more exotic experience for the audience. Passion for linguistics Authors might also want to make recipients more immersed in their creation, or they may simply be trying to add some linguistic interest into their work. E.g. J. R. R. Tolkien was known for his linguist passion and education, which reflected vividly in his works. Immersion In the end, when fans are dedicated to a certain fictional universe, they prefer to feel that it's almost as real as their own world. For this reason, the invented languages help the fictional world to become more believable and tangible. The most dedicated fans spend a lot of their time to learn the language of their favorite books or TV shows. This makes this language a living thing, just as any other language on Earth. This is what happens now with High Valyrian, as it's just been incorporated as one of the Duolingo's language courses. Almost 600k of its users decided to learn Valyrian! This is more than the current number of people who learn Hungarian (over 400k) and much more than the other popular fictional language: Klingon (over 300k as of now). High Valyrian language: Summary As we are awaiting the House of the Dragon final episodes, we can expect the High Valyrian to become even more popular among the fans. This is an interesting case, because it shows that the passion for languages might come not only for the real-world existing ones. We're sure that in the future, there might be even more invented languages that fans will be eager to learn, just as High Valyrian now. If you're interested in learning more about fictional languages, be sure to check our future articles. We have a whole series about them in mind! And if you have a passion for learning languages, but not necessarily time and motivation, be sure to check our store. With our newest standalone device, Vasco Translator V4, you have 108 languages in your pocket! Maybe some day even Valyrian and Dothraki too... In a nutshell: To say that Game of Thrones was a popular TV series is to say nothing about it. It was adapted from the bestselling “Ice & Fire” saga by American author, George R.R. Martin, and aired on HBO in 2010-2019 through 8 seasons. At its peak, the show was broadcasted in 207 countries and averaged almost 44 million viewers for its final season (Forbes, 2019 & Hollywood Reporter, 2022). The show's created many fictional languages, with the most prominent being Valyrian. Valyrian is based on Latin and Greek languages, with High Valyrian being the ancient language spoken in the past by the Valyrians of Essos. Low Valy rian is the term for the dialects that have evolved out of Valyrian. Dothraki is spoken by the nomadic horse-mounted warriors in the lands of Essos and is based on Russian with vocabulary from Genghis-Khan Mongolian. Skroth is the language used by the White Walkers, with White Walker speech being literal ice creaking.   Read the full article

[hetalia-club]

if you are willing to share more please tell us more about Dothraki Spain and Dothraki culture, im writing a fic with your au and I’ve only seen the show.

That’s so exciting! Yay! I’m happy people like my game if thrones au!I had someone else today say they wanted to write a fic set in my universe, that makes me happy!

I’ve really said all I can about Dothraki Spain. He’s not a very fleshed out character in my universe. So other than what I said you can just go ham with him really. I started a second fic and I’m trying to have him in it more and potentially be a main character but I still haven’t added too much depth to him yet. Here is his character description:

A tall young man, about 17-18 years old he could be as old as 20 or young as 16, his exact age is unknown Dothraki don’t keep track of age how everyone else does. He has brilliant green eyes, copper skin, and soft looking Chcolate brown hair looking like it were cut haphazardly with a dagger and no looking glass, he has a singular braid on the side of his head with a small strand of hair. The braid has golden rings and 2 bells dangling off it. He has a bright smile, often smiling when he does not understand. And every other time he wears a smirk like he is aware of a joke but won’t tell you the punch line. He wears crudely made horse leather armor that looks like it is in need of repair and smells like it needs thrown out. When he needs to keep up appearances he wears his Greyjoy metal armor, that he looks very uncomfortable in and does not know how to stand. He carries around his hooked sword at all times no matter the occasion he even takes it with him when he goes to sleep. He has a large muscular red stallion he brought with him from the Vase Dothrak, and Dothraki don’t name their animals so it doesn’t have a name. He’s 1/2 Dothraki 1/2 Iron-Born. But looks fully Dothraki. He’s more Dothraki than iron born. But is very intrigued to learn about iron born culture, but not too intrigued. More so fascinated with the new world around him and a little home sick at the same time. The iron islands are mostly rock so he spends a lot of time missing the Dothraki Sea (grass felids). But he does still get to go back there to trade and could go back there at any point, he’s not there unwillingly. He does enjoy his family, and the pirate life. Just not so much the rest of it.

As for Dothraki culture you don’t learn too much more in the books than what you learned in the show. And what we learn in the books and show is all through Danny’s POV, who is an actual moron btw. I speak a little bit of Dothraki rather I know some of it by ear and reading(the romanized version not the script) I can’t make the sounds with my mouth lol. It is actually a fully fleshed out language and if it were in our world it would be considered a ‘romance language’. It sounds Abraic to the ears but actually has a lot of Russian grammar rules. It’s very hard to speak and learn, as you could imagine. So dumb ass Danny wearing her spit bib over there in the corner and mouth breathing mastering it in a couple months is something I refuse to believe.

If you want to write him properly and if he is speaking the common tongue in your fic here are some quick Dothraki language rules:

They can’t say the TH sound at the start of a word but they can at the end of a word. And it sounds more like Thrua instead of TH. So you gotta roll it. They also have no L sound

They don’t say things like “I had a good day today” in Dothraki everything is spoken as if it were on horse back even if they are not and horses have nothing to do with it (which horses usually do have at least something to do with it). So instead of “I had a good day today” they would say something like “I ride good today” even if they never actually road a horse that day. So if you can just phrase everything as if he road a horse all day that is propper Dothraki speach

They have about a million ways to say the word “kill” they are a very murder and death heavy people, so they like to jazz it up I guess.

They don’t just straight up say things so they don’t have a phrase for “I love you” and instead of that they may say something cryptic like “you are the one I ride with” or “you are the one of my heart” and of course the famous “you are my sun and stars” and “you are the moon of my life”

Their religion follows “the great stallion” who is just a big ass horse who lives in the stars. They believe the sun is a god, the moon is his wife and the stars are their khalasar (army). When you die you go to “the night lands” and become a star and join their khalasar but only if you died in battle (it’s all very Valhalla) They pray to the mother of mountains for what I’m not sure. They are terrified of the ocean a d Magic and just the idea of magic sends them into a panic.

Anyone can ask me anything at all about this AU it’s by far my most in depth one and I could talk about it for actual hours.

[thethirdgenesisbooks]

A Shortcut to Crafting Fictional Languages

Whether it’s Elvish, Klingon, or Dothraki, one big thing that people love about fantasy and science fiction settings is the array of fictional languages that exist in these settings. Tolkien was a linguist, so he was able to use his vast education on the subject to craft the languages in Middle Earth. Professional linguists also crafted the Klingon language from the Star Trek series, but I would argue that you don’t need to be a professional linguist to craft a fictional language for your world.

Here are seven steps to building a fictional language with relative ease.

Start By Picking a Base Language from Real Life:

If you don’t know all the rules of how languages work, it can be difficult to come up with new words and craft things like grammar and sentence structure. So, start by picking a real life language that, in some way, reflects the culture you are trying to portray in your world. If your fantasy novel has an empire that rules most of the known world, then perhaps a good base language is Latin or Mandarin Chinese. Bear in mind, you won’t actually be using this language as the fictional one, but you will be using it as the basis of what you’re looking to build. It helps if this is a language that you already know something about, but it’s not entirely necessary.

Google Translate Is Your Friend:

When writing a scene where certain characters are speaking in a fictional language, write out the bit of dialogue in English first. Once you’ve gotten down what you want your characters to say, copy what you’ve written and paste it into Google Translate, and translate it into the base language you’ve chosen.

Translate the Individual Words:

Once you’ve translated the whole phrase into the base language, open Google Translate again in another window and translate each word back into English individually. In learning what the individual words mean, you’ll learn a little something about grammar and sentence structure in that other tongue. If you keep this in mind, you can prevent your fictional language from simply having the same grammatical structure as English.

Alter the Words One at a Time:

Once you know what each word means, open a Word document, and start putting them one by one into the document. This Word document will serve as your dictionary, which you will build as you write. Obviously, you don’t want to leave the words as they are, unless you’re fine with your fictional language being identical to a real-life one. So, once you’ve got the dictionary built, go through and change just a few letters in each word. Change the consonants to alternative consonants and the vowels to alternative vowels.

You usually only have to make a few small changes in order to craft new words. For example, when crafting a language using Latin as the base, I needed a word that meant “we” or “us.” The Latin word for that was “nos,” so I changed it to “noth.” In another case, when crafting a language that used Hebrew as the base, I needed a word for “human.” I found that one of the Hebrew words for man is “Ysh,” so I changed the word to “Yash,” and had my word for human. For shorter and less well-known foreign words, you need only change one or two letters, but for longer words or for more well-known foreign words, you’ll need to change more letters.

Consider How You Want the Language to Feel:

Fictional languages are meant to invoke certain emotions. The Klingon language, for example, is meant to sound threatening. To accomplish this, it uses a lot of hard consonants, a lot of “K” sounds, and even the vowels tend to be guttural, and the sorts of sounds that could be made in the back of the throat. On the other hand, Parseltongue is meant to be the language of snakes, so it focuses on “S” and “Th” sounds. Consider what letters you want to make more common in your fictional language to give it the intended feel.

Consider Cultural Implications:

A culture’s language can reveal things about that culture, and it’s important to keep that in mind. One example is the Hawaiian word "aloha." In Hawaiian culture, "aloha" is more than just a greeting or a farewell; it more literally means “love,” “compassion,” “affection,” “peace,” and “mercy.” Similarly, the Hebrew word “Shalom” is used as a greeting but means “Peace.” In German the word for friend is “Freund,” while the German word for joy is “Freude.” These come from the same root words, showing how friends and joy are closely linked in the German mindset. The Rastafarian dialect uses the phrase “I and I” rather than “You and I” or “He and I” because it emphasizes the oneness of all humanity.

So, as you build your language, consider what the meaning of certain words might imply about the culture. In my Third Genesis series, I needed a Fiendish word for the Archons, who are the fiends’ traditional enemies. I had the word for enemy, “Mal,” and the word for sky, “Shah,” so, because archons can usually fly, I created the word “Mal’shah,” literally meaning “Sky Enemy” as the Fiendish word for archons. Similarly, when inventing a language for a culture of robots, I had to consider whether they had a word for “love.” So, as you build your language, consider what words might well have double meanings, or what words you can make minor changes to in order to invent a word with a similar meaning. In a militaristic culture, perhaps the term “friend” and the term “ally” are similar. Little touches like this will make the language seem more “real” and the world feel more lived-in.

Build as You Go:

You might be tempted to build the entire fictional language from the ground up before writing your story. I actually advise against this when you’re using this method for your language building. For one thing, the English language has hundreds of thousands of words. A study conducted by researchers at Ghent University in Belgium estimated that the average English-speaking adult knows around 42,000 words. Honestly, that is simply too many to build ahead of time.

So, write your story, and when you come to a place where characters speak a fictional tongue, stop and translate the specific phrases they are speaking into your fictional language, and build your dictionary over time. Then, as you write more, consult that which you’ve already written to craft conversations in that tongue. If you do it this way, you can even include the dictionary of the fictional language at the back of your book, and dedicated readers can go back and translate the phrases if they want.

With these seven steps, you should be ready to craft a fictional language for your fantasy or science fiction story. Admittedly, linguists will likely be able to point out certain flaws in the language, but most of your readers will not be linguists. Now, go forth and write!

[yesthatssadirichardslove]

U.S. linguist couple map fantasy languages for the screen

LILLE, France

From Dothraki and Valyrian in "Game of Thrones" to the Chakobsa desert tongue in "Dune", American couple David and Jessie Peterson have devised numerous imaginary languages -- apparently the only two people in the world who earn a living concocting fantasy grammar and vocabulary for film characters.

Immortal lines from the "Game of Thrones" scripts such as: "You are my last hope, blood of my blood," plunge viewers deeper into the series' fantastical world when uttered in the original Dothraki: "Yer athzalar nakhoki anni, zhey qoy qoyi."

In Dune, the Fremen desert warriors roll the "r" in their Chakobsa tongue -- the name comes from a real ancient hunter's language that inspired author Frank Herbert in writing the original series of "Dune" books.

But Herbert and Game of Thrones novelist George R. R. Martin only included a few words of these fantasy languages in their pages -- it was the Petersons who fully developed them for the screen.

"Languages can be fun. Often I think languages are treated very seriously," said David Peterson. "People can laugh if they make a mistake."

The use of language creators in films dates at least to 1985 when Marc Okrand created Klingon for that alien species in "Star Trek." It has since taken off in numerous fantasy series -- but few people make a living from the work.

A trained linguist, Peterson landed his first paid assignment to develop Dothraki by winning a competition in 2009.

Speaking at a masterclass during a television series festival in the French city of Lille, the Petersons described how they devise languages by discussing the characters' environment, backgrounds and the objects they use.

From there, "we extrapolate," David Peterson said.

Tasked with inventing a language which sounded like fire for the Pixar cartoon "Elemental", for example, Jessie Peterson formed words from a series of sounds like explosions and matches.

Now she proudly recalls hearing children call out to their father in the language in the street.

With short turnaround times for filming -- sometimes just a couple of months -- the Petersons share the work.

Creating a language means more than just making up words -- the couple start by building grammar, including word genders and tenses.

From there music lover David Peterson works on how the language sounds and Jessie Peterson develops the vocabulary.

They send actors recordings of the dialogue at a normal speed, slow speed and even syllable by syllable. The high-pressure process "usually involves a lot of swearing," David Peterson said.

The pair have also created alphabets for messages written on screen by using images and symbols to create letters. David Peterson compares the process to the invention of writing five millennia ago.

Fans can study High Valyrian from "Game of Thrones" on learning app Duolingo -- or in regular lessons, along with Dothraki.

The Petersons share their expertise on their Youtube channel "LangTime Studio" with some 600 episodes for fans of co-called "conlangs" -- constructed languages.

Could artificial intelligence get the work done faster?

"It would be more work to train the AI to actually produce a small amount of things. You might as well use that time to create the language on your own," David Peterson said.

Jessie Peterson agreed: "The beauty of language is that it is inherently human and there is no reason I want to take humanity out of language."

[dedalvs]

Hi!

I do wonder if it sometimes bothers you that HV gets so much attention. Do you feel it sometimes overshadows your other work and does that bother you? I’ve been wondering about this because I absolutely don’t want to annoy you with talking only about HV

lol I don't think I can adequately describe how off the mark this is...

First, let's be clear. Despite what you imagine or have heard in the media, the GoT languages had next to no fanbase during the original run of Game of Thrones. There were a handful of people interested in Dothraki the first two season (and by "a handful" I mean like twelve), but then Dothraki mostly fell out of use after season 2. High Valyrian didn't get as much attention. There was the impression that they did get attention, and so I got a lot of attention from interviewers, etc., but there really weren't many people actually interested in the languages.

There was enough media attention that Duolingo became interested, and so I worked with them to make a course on High Valyrian. That course more than anything else has generated the most interest in the language.

Around this time I decided to create my own wiki, and a couple of people who are really good with HV decided to help out with the wiki. It was also around this time that I found Discord. There was a tiny community of people who occasionally posted on r/HighValyrian, and they found their way to the Discord. The Discord has actually been tremendously successful.

Then came House of the Dragon. This was another Thrones show that only had High Valyrian, and featured it prominently—and I got to create a writing system. We planned an expansion of the HV course with Duolingo to coincide with the release of the first season, and that led to a bunch of people searching for info on the language. It led them to Duolingo, and the lack of overt grammar instruction on Duolingo led them to find other resources, which led them to the wiki, to r/HighValyrian, to the Discord, etc.

And yet aaaaaaaaaaaaall of this is dwarfed by the popularity of Trigedasleng at its height.

And yet still most people haven't even heard of the show, let alone the language.

More to the point, I love all my languages, and I love to talk about them and work with them. It doesn't matter when or where they come from, or what they're attached to. In fact the best way to put it is that it's nice that there's finally some interest in High Valyrian, because that is honestly what it feels like.

So yeah, ask away about whatever! <3

[wanderlinguachronicles]

Embracing the Melodies of Words: My Passion for Languages and the Uncharted Realms They Open 🗣️🌌

Greetings, fellow linguists, language enthusiasts, and those captivated by the symphony of words! 📜🌍 Today, I'm thrilled to delve into the heart of my lifelong fascination with languages – an enduring love affair that spans across continents, epochs, and the realms of imagination. Join me as I share my deep-seated adoration for the beauty, diversity, and stories that languages carry within them.

A Kaleidoscope of Tongues:

Languages, to me, are like the colors of a vibrant painting, each stroke contributing to the masterpiece that is our world. My linguistic journey began in the cradle of a family of linguists, where conversations ebbed and flowed between various tongues. But my intrigue went beyond mere conversation; it was a yearning to uncover the nuances that define cultures and histories.

Unveiling Ancient Whispers:

As I navigated through the linguistic landscape, my thirst for knowledge drew me into the realm of ancient languages. The scripts of hieroglyphs, the symmetries of ancient Greek, the rhythm of Latin – each carried echoes of civilizations long gone. Deciphering these linguistic relics felt like unearthing hidden treasure, connecting me to our shared human story across time's tapestry.

Curious Allure of Fiction:

But my fascination isn't confined to the historical – the imaginative also beckons. The world of artificial and fictional languages is a playground of creativity. From Tolkien's Elvish tongues to the intricacies of Dothraki, these languages breathe life into new worlds and cultures. Exploring the cadence and grammar of these languages is like stepping into alternate realities where words shape landscapes.

Tracing Asian Histories:

As I journey through the linguistically rich continent of Asia, I'm captivated by the intricate dance of its languages' evolution. From the evolution of Mandarin's tonal intricacies to the majestic characters of Japanese kanji, the Asian linguistic tapestry speaks of ancient civilizations, conquests, and cultural exchanges. The history of their development adds a layer of depth that's impossible to ignore.

The Elegance of Germanic and Celtic:

Of course, my heart beats in rhythm with the enchanting melodies of Germanic and Celtic languages. The lilting sounds of Irish, the poetic flow of Old English – they hold a special place in my linguistic repertoire. Their stories, tied to myths and epic tales, remind me that languages are the vessels of cultural memory.

A Lifetime of Learning:

My linguistic journey is a lifelong one, an adventure that continues to surprise and delight me. I dive into each language not just for its vocabulary and grammar, but for the stories it tells, the emotions it carries, and the doorways it opens into the hearts of people near and far.

So, dear readers, join me as we traverse the realms of ancient scripts, weave stories with fictional languages, and trace the intricate paths of Asia's linguistic histories. Let us celebrate the fact that within each language lies an entire universe of experience waiting to be uncovered.

Thank you for sharing in my passion, and here's to the unending voyage of discovery through the enchanting world of languages.

With linguistic zeal and endless curiosity,

Lada 🗣️🌌📚

[dedalvs]

FYI online translators don't work for anything. Google Translate works so effectively* because it essentially gives you the best result based on analyzing billions upon billions of fluent translations. When you ask it to translate "Where is the train station?" into French it's not actually translating it: it's looking through all of its resources and telling you that, in all likelihood, the translation is Où est la gare? The reason it's any good is because Google has masses of information to draw from and an algorithm that can more or less effectively analyze it. The more information it has to draw from the better the translations will be, which is why English to French and vice-versa is going to be way better than English to Swahili, which will in turn be better than Swahili to Finnish. There's more English that has been faithfully translated to French and vice-versa than English to Swahili. Google Translate will get better the more text has been written and faithfully translated from language A to language B that becomes part of its database.

Something like LingoJam is a word-substituion cipher. For example, if you ask it to translate "My name is Jean" into French it will translate it as Mon nom est Jean. This isn't how you say that in French. You instead say Je m'appelle Jean. The only way LingoJam would know to translate it that way is if someone programmed the chunk "My name is = Je m'appelle" into it.

So it's not that online translators outside Google Translate "aren't very good": They will NEVER do ANYTHING right. They are designed to not work. The only way they will EVER work is if someone has happened to enter the exact phrase you need into the translator already and they managed to get the translation right on their own. LingoJam is designed for one purpose: to get you to click on it. That's it. That's the point of LingoJam. To click on the website—and whatever ads are posted on it. There's no other purpose to it.

Anything that purports to be a Valyrian (or Dothraki or "Elvish") online translator is no more effective than a wordlist, and wordlists exist online. The most information you can find anywhere online for High Valyrian is here:

It's maintained by me and a group of people who are really good with High Valyrian (and really thorough!). In order to use the language, you'll need to learn the grammar, but that is also detailed there. It's going to take work, of course, but you might be able to get some help on the Languages of Ice and Fire Discord (I can't find the link, but it exists, I swear!). That's your best bet for the moment. I hope this helps!

*Yes, Google Translate isn't perfect, but comparing it to something like LingoJam is like comparing Stardew Valley to a 30 second ad for Farmville and saying that, after having seen the same 30 second ad for Farmville forty times, that it's pretty much the same as playing Stardew Valley—and then trying to sell a ten year old on it who wants to play Stardew Valley. "Just watch this ad! It's basically the same thing."

in interest of having my valyrian be more accurate in my fics (i use a translator and it’s often incorrect or uses the wrong conjugation; i was initially okay with this but my perfectionism is kicking in) i was wondering if anyone knows of an accurate translator? or if anyone who does know the grammar rules sees this and would like to help me out occasionally, i’d really appreciate it <3

[demoncryptspanties]

Dorne Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for how long it took me to write this but I'm back to regular writing so we should be okay. Btw I graduated guys.

Pairings: Oberyn Martell x Female!Reader, Jaqen Hagar x Female!Reader, (Future!Ellaria Sand x Female!reader, Future!Sandor Clegane x female!Reader, Future!Tywin Lannister x Female!Reader)

Warnings: Bad spelling, violence, bad grammar, smut.

Word Count: 6880

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Look at the moon

Her muscles hurt by the time she got home; she could have stayed in bed for days if her family had let her, but she had lessons and responsibilities. There is always something to do and somewhere to go. She was not fortunate to have her brother's company until the night she returned. She was reading a book in the corner of her chair where Jaqen had been. It waswas in Dothraki, but the story was disjointed in translation; she had intended to get it in Dothraki, but it was always tough with a language that was not often written.

"Sister, I have some news." He sat next to her before she could finish the page she was on, beaming even more than he had previously.

“She’s not pregnant, is she?” 

He scoffed and made himself comfortable, “would that be so bad?”

“No, but it would be rather soon.” She set the book down next to her, the name still retaining the vivid bronze it was inscribed with. Oran frowned at the book and returned his gaze to his sister.

“I set up a day, next week, for the two of you to talk.”

"That's very kind of you." She smiled and nodded slowly, waiting for him to say more. He scowled, mistaking her tone for irritation.

“It’s just tea, and you can do what you want after.” He was gesticulating and wasn’t quite able to meet her eye. 

She put a hand on his arm to stop him from moving and looked him in the eye, “I look forward to it.”

“I want you to like her.” His voice was small. 

"I do," she said as she grabbed his hand in hers and sat back into the side of the chair.

"No, I really want you to like her.  I value your opinion and remember seeing you with Jaqen, Oberyn, and that foreign priestess a few suns ago. I want to love like you do, and you always make sure that when things get serious, we all meet them, get along, and that we are sincerely glad for you. All I want to do is the same."

“I will get to know her properly and I will love her because you do and that in itself is enough.” She gestured for him to hug her, and he did, resting a head on her shoulder. 

“Thank you.”

She pulled away suddenly and ran around the room to the end of the bed, picking up a box. “Now want me to show you the sword that Oberyn had made, he called it a scimitar.”

She opened it and showed him, then handed it to him to move around. He felt its weight and motioned for her to move away before standing up to swing it about. The weight for him was off, just a little too light, yet his motions were similar to hers, and his wrinkled expression melted into a relaxed smile. He eventually scrutinised it thoroughly before returning it to her and placing it back in the box.

“It looks familiar.”

“Does it?” He was running his finger down the hilt before an idea came to him.

“Hold on.” He left the room as quickly as he had come, and she heard the loud sounds of his footsteps going into her father’s room. 

He had shouted something she couldn’t hear through the walls and then came bounding back, a book in his hand and a triumphant face. “I think it's similar to what they use in the Summer Isles.”

“It’s a big place, they can’t all use the same thing.” She moved to sit on the bed instead.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” He opened up the book sifting through the pages lightly and kneeled over the bed. “Here look, it’s a curved blade. Not like the long swords we have here.”

“Where’s that from.” She peered over him at the paper though at the angle the words looked jumbled. 

“I’m not sure, I don’t recognise the language.”

He twisted the book to face her, letting her try and decipher it but she just looked over at it and shook her head. “Neither do I, call father.”

He bolted into one of the other rooms as if there was some sort of emergency. He returned a moment later, at a leisurely pace, waiting for his father to enter with another book in his hand. He motioned to the scimitar and rolled it over in his palms to check the design.

“The blacksmith who made this is very skilled.”

“It’s from Oberyn, of course, they were.” He frowned at that but placed it back in the box carefully and flipped through the book in his hand. 

He splayed the book out, displaying the page with the Dothraki swords on it. “I know this is not the same because they wield double swords, but it sort of looks like them right.”

“Sort of. I guess.” She studied the drawing again and ran a finger over the silver of the blade.

“It seems to be a new weapon, though I don’t know why he would be giving these to you when you’re getting married.” Her father said the last bit under his breath, but Y/N just rolled her eyes preparing herself to once again have this little conversation. 

“I am not yet and is he not allowed to gift me whenever the desire strikes him. Do I not do the same.” She tried her best to not whine or raise her voice.

He looked down at his daughter, eyes softening at her hard stare. She sighed deeply and tilted her head, “What does one gift a prince who has everything?” He said softly. 

“My relationship with him won’t change after I marry. I’ve already had that discussion, you taught me better than to keep secrets from people I love. He already has me father, I have given him everything and I will continue to until the day I die.” 

"By the grace of the God's" "You two are so dramatic, I can't tell who got it from whom." His words caused her to quietly laugh and relax in her seat. "So you've made the decision to marry?" He inquired, sitting next to the girl and gazing her in the eyes with a knowing smile.

"I haven't said anything like that. You must first speak with him. Well, he needs to speak with you. He has not yet spoken with me. We had an interesting encounter, and I'm not sure if it altered anything for him."

He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes, instead, he cradled the girl kissing the crown of her head. “Dearest, there is not a person alive who would not have you if they could. I am certain this has not changed anything.”

"Thank you, father," she said as she clasped his hand and rose to her feet, but he stopped her.

“The prince, he has yet to have a son, though.”

"They both respect each other passionately, look at the sword," she groaned, turning to face him. " The hilt bears Jaqen's sigil. If I ever find myself with a child, I will simply have a conversation with them. Oberyn doesn't care if his children are male or female, and I doubt his feelings will change. He adores and would raise his children equally. Do you have no faith in me, Father? I'll just take care of it when the situation arises."

He stood up and headed towards the door, squeezing her hand once more. Her assurances seemed to be enough. "I only have faith in you, child," he said once he was at the doorway. "After all, I raised you."

Oran had chosen a tea parlour she had never visited before for her date with Ayenna the following week. The floor cushions, like the majority of the other décor, were a deep blue. The cups appeared to be fully green, and the bulk of the fabrics had green highlights. Ayenna entered the modest shop through the doorway and sat across from the woman. She was dressed in a soft yellow gown and had her hair loose over her shoulders. She appeared much more at ease, which was most likely due to the absence of anxiety that every first meeting carried.

“Hello Ayenna, it is wonderful to see you.”

Oran has been talking about our meeting for a full week now. I believe he is eager to ensure that you like me." She fiddled with a bit of red string while smiling down into her hands.

"He values my input, but he doesn't need to be concerned since I already do." Do you know why he chose this place? I'm not sure how he knows it exists." She motioned to a woman behind Ayenna, who rushed off to bring another cup and a honey-filled glass bowl.

"On our first official date, we passed by this area. He'd gotten himself into some sort of trouble, and instead of telling them who he was, he took my hand and went down odd pathways to get away." Ayenna's grin was gentle, and she couldn't quite meet the other woman's eyes. Much like Y/N couldn't while recalling specific memories of Jaqen and Oberyn.

Y/N laughed airily to herself, “that sounds like him. He likes adventure and trouble. He’s fortunate that we are who we are for that exact reason.”

"I absolutely adore that about him. Every day, he strives to feel alive and to make others feel the same way. My happiness is dependent on his happiness. "I've never seen such pure joy in someone."

“I have never heard someone talk so poetically about my brother before.” She tilted her head to the side, with a sly smile.

“It is him that brings it out of me. He does it as well, I asked him about it once. He says the prince talks to you like that.” Ayenna looked down at her hands, trying her best to hide the bright smile she had. 

“Ah, those two are as thick as thieves sometimes. The prince does love to be dramatic.”

"I am aware; I recall him planning your birthday a few suns back." The lady found the subject of her birthday to be amusing. Oberyn had failed to consult her on anything, and Doran seemed concerned every time she mentioned it. While large gatherings with wine, food, and music were something the prince adored, it made the lady feel slightly uncomfortable to be the centre of attention. People brought her gifts while she barely knew them. She ended up giving most of them away, discreetly, to servants and merchants.

“I never should have let him do that and just asked Doran to take over, but he insisted and how could I deny him.”

“Why? His displays are so grandiose because he wants to express how much he adores you, no?" Ayenna cocked her head to the side, perplexed. The inequalities in their status that Lady Phassirah worked so hard to conceal became obvious.

“Yes. But he has never been successful in this endeavour, and neither have I. Our love is too great to be shown by festivities, words, or presents. They are never sufficient." The lady hid her smile in the cup of tea. 

“Sometimes I feel that way about Oran. In that, I am not enough. He deserves so much.”

“He deserves someone who he has chosen and who loves him. Is that not you?”

"Yes, but consider who I am. Who am I? Your lover is the prince." Her eyes were slightly teary. The lady felt compelled to console her; how could this woman be hiding something cruel when she seemed to care so much about her brother?

"Your name is Ayenna, and you are a gorgeous, educated, and compassionate woman who makes incredible bread and pastries.  The prince would be a man without his birth, and I would be a woman without mine. Nothing else matters except that we are two people in love. Not your wealth, your social standing, or your connections. You are plenty.

“I need to tell you something.” She suddenly became very serious, pushing her tea to the side of the table and leaning forward into the lady, as if she were about to reveal a secret.

“I asked Oran whether you were pregnant, I can’t believe that he lied to me.”

“No that’s not it.” Ayenna appeared to be preparing to say something, so the lady waited calmly, allowing her to gather her thoughts.

“Lady Phassirah,” a voice said behind her. She looked up to see one of her guards who she had asked to make scarce with a letter. 

“Yes.”

“Lady Aneera sent this from your home, saying you will likely want to see it.” The man handed her the letter. The wax seal was white, round, and had the unmistakable engravings of a spiralled snake. 

She seized the letter harsher than planned but instantly apologised. The guard left the shop with a gentle bow of his head. The lady opened the seal with the little dagger connected to her hip, displaying Jaqen's exquisite and delicate calligraphy.

“I do apologise Ayenna, but I would really love to read this letter and I fear I won’t be able to concentrate until I do. Perhaps we can continue this another time.”

“Of course, my lady, please do what you need to.” The lady got up, taking a few coins out of her purse and leaving them on the table. She smiled at Ayenna before she turned to leave, gesturing for one of the guards to get her horse. 

She rushed home, raced to her room, and sat on the balcony with a smile. She was nearly bouncing, much like she used to when Oberyn sent her letters about his trips and exploits. Doran would even send one or two on something intriguing he'd learned while away.

She traced the broken seal and opened the letter again. 

My Lady, 

I know by the time this letter reaches you, I will be soon back, but I felt a sense of calm at the prospect of writing words only meant for your eyes. I can envision you now, watching the sunset from the balcony. I hope you’re thinking of me when you look towards the sun, or in the evenings when you try to see what is beyond the stars. I think of you here, through the way a woman’s dress moves, a piece of jewellery that seems too flawless to truly exist, in the stories I read and hear, and in the books with worn spines. 

Here is beautiful, it is home, and I have decided that I will never come back here without you again. I stepped off the boat and imagined what you would say to me, all the places and things I wanted to show you. I see you now, wandering through alleyways, racing your horse against your brothers, and watching the sunset at the docks with me. I can't now imagine stepping onto the dirt floors without you.

While it may be dramatic and far too soon, I miss you terribly, utterly, and completely. It's as if I'm missing a piece of myself, and without you, I'm hollow. I'm missing your laugh and the way you gaze up at me. I'm empty without your taunting and mysticism. It's the things I miss and the things I remember fondly that make me realise we're destined to be together.

I will look at the moon and remember that it is one less night I have to be without you, and I’ll look at the magnificence that is the setting sun and think that it doesn’t hold a candle to you. 

May I have the honour of laying my eyes upon you soon, 

Your Jaqen 

The lady couldn’t help the smile that filled her face. She read the last two lines over and over again, your Jaqen. The thought of him being hers made her fantasise about the life they would have together. How they planned to travel and marry. The foods they'd try, as well as the things he'd show her. She imagined his face in front of her during their wedding, the way his eyes would sparkle in the sunlight and glisten slightly with tears at how she looked. She saw herself looking past him at Oberyn and hearing him applaud and laugh with joy. Aneera's knowing smile came to mind as she pictured Oran lifting and spinning her in the sunshine. The idea of a perfect day with him filled her with a type of euphoria she had never known before.

She retraced the broken seal before unlocking the chest at the foot of her bed and laying the letter on top of one of her heavier clothes. Oran burst into the room with a smile at that exact moment.

“One of the servants told me you were back.”

“Oh yes. I’m sorry I came back early, Jaqen sent me a letter and I simply could not concentrate.” She gave him an apologetic smile, but he did not seem to notice and instead sat on the chair nearest to the bookshelf.

“That is fine. So do you like her?”

Y/N took a seat near him and gave herself a light hum, “I have always liked her Oran.”

“Yes, but you know what I mean.” His eyes were bright in a way she hadn’t seen for a long time. 

“She truly is an incredible girl. I mean that completely. She is calm and pleasant, and I am confident she would be an excellent wife and addition to this family."

Oran breathed a sigh of relief and bent over his own legs to catch his breath. "I intend to marry her," he said as he sat up gently, leaning into his sister, his carefree and cheerful look turning serious yet hopeful.

“I thought so.” Y/N only nodded slowly and picked up a goblet delicately from the table in front of her, filling it with wine and taking a small sip.

Oran took her moment of silence as a question and immediately attempted to explain himself. “If something goes wrong, I can always separate from her. I will keep the engagement long. I won’t marry before you.”

"You may do so if you wish. I'm not holding you back in any way." Y/N spoke carefully, looking him in the eyes, attempting to convey her confidence in his judgments.

“I want her to be completely mine and me entirely hers. The time of the engagement will mean that we can get to know each other better.”

“I support your every decision, Oran. Though have you spoken to Aneera?”

Oran let out an exaggerated sigh after a moment of silence, “I’ve been putting it off. I hope she hasn’t figured out what Ayenna is hiding. I wish to live in bliss a little longer.”

"I can't imagine it's anything too terrible.  The girl is far too nice. Perhaps it's a child from a former lover or something along those lines."

“That would be the best result.”

“It would.”

“So my sister, you are truly okay with this?” He reached out and grabbed both her hands, pulling them to him.

The lady's hold was firm, and she curled her right hand upwards, interlocking their thumbs as if they were preparing to engage in an arm wrestle. "Again, Oran, you are my brother, I have taught you everything I know, and I love you more than words can express.  I trust every decision you make since I know you have carefully considered them."

Oran took their clasped hands and raised them to his brow for a second before quickly standing up, smiling at his sister and exiting the room. Y/N smiled as she shook her head and took a book from the bookcase. She sat on the balcony reading the words in the late afternoon sun, watching it set and wondering if he was staring at the pink and orange hues and thinking of her, even though the answer was obvious.

Time passed with no noteworthy events. Oran had yet to reveal his wedding intentions, but she assumed he would wait until she was officially engaged first out of respect. Of course, the lady spoke with him, but he insisted on doing what was right in his own time.

The house was in disarray as Jaqen was due to return. The lady persuaded her father that a large celebration was unnecessary because Jaqen would not enjoy it, and while the number of people invited decreased dramatically, the extravagant décor and food did not. To ensure that everything was completed on time, preparations had to be finished the day before the celebration, and thus Y/N began to curse herself the instant Oberyn arrived through her front door.

“Not that I do not love to see your face, but today is not the best day for us to go on an adventure.”

She had glanced at him, but not close enough to see the expression on his face. “I wish to instead just have a private conversation.”

"I know how your private discussions ended, Oberyn, and I don't think that is the best idea today." She could hear a soft laugh behind her as she arranged many different flowers on the surface in front of her, attempting to find the ideal colour combination.

“I really need to talk to you, my flower, just for a minute.”

"Please tell me which of these pairings seems better. Maybe I should stick to all white. Is that alright, or does it seem too formal? Should I use the orange to add some colour?"

Unphased by her change of topic, Oberyn wrapped his arms around her waist, looking over her shoulder at the various flowers. “Use the white and light yellow as a base and then have orange accents.”

She nodded and waved to one of the maids, instructing them to do just that. Oberyn leaned into the lady's hair, taking a deep breath, before planting gentle kisses on the space not covered by fabric along her shoulder. "You know I can't resist you, Oberyn, so please let me finish."

He let out a hum and reluctantly let her go, taking a step back to give her space. 

"Oberyn, we can have dinner tonight if I finish everything I need to do."

"All right," he said, tilting his head and looking down at her. "Please let me stay."

"Of course, I'd never deny you. Just promise to be helpful and refrain from distracting me too much." She now turned to face him. He approached her, making her lean into the surface. For a brief moment, the smirk on his face appeared almost cruel to her, and she regretted allowing him to stay.

“By the old Gods and the new, how can I ever promise that. You find me a distraction by just existing.”

The lightness of his words didn't seem to match his smirk, but she responded with a hearty laugh. "I truly do love you, Oberyn Martell," she said softly as she kissed him on the cheek.

"Y/N Phassirah, you already know my heart belongs to you." They could have stayed like this forever, but someone tripped on the other side of the room, jolting her back to reality.

"Right, now that the flowers have been finalised, I need to refine the food and then figure out the seating."

"Isn't this your father's area of expertise?" Oberyn raised an eyebrow at her and smiled down at her.

"Yes, but I can't find him or Oran, and Aneera doesn't seem to want to be at our house for once." She suspected it was Aneera's fault that everyone seemed to be absent for the day.

Oberyn stopped the lady, holding her face in his arms and looking straight into her eyes. “You’re nervous. Why?”

“How can I not be, I haven’t seen him in quite a few moons, I want it to be perfect.” There was a certain vulnerability in her frown that he wasn't expecting, but his smile became reassuring.

He tucked her hair behind her ear and gave her a soft kiss. “You’re perfect and that is more than enough.”

“That is very kind of you to say, my love, and yet today, in this moment, I’m not entirely sure I feel like that.”

"It's just nerves, my flower." You're as beautiful as the setting sun. The universe will not allow him to think of you otherwise." She was almost moved to tears by his kind words, and she was surprised she didn't cry given the way he was looking at her.

“Is that how you think of me, truly that I’m perfect?”

“Yes, truly, utterly, and completely. You are my life partner, more beautiful than any woman alive or dead, smarter than even the oldest scholars and wiser than even Aneera.” She laughed at the mention of Aneera.

“You flatter me too much, Oberyn Martell. Though I appreciate how I can see that you truly believe that.”

He pulled her into a hug, speaking into her hair, “and you deserve to truly believe that too. I will do everything in my power to ensure that you do.”

After their conversation, the evening flew by, and she almost forgot why Oberyn was there in the first place. But his actions reminded her that he did, in fact, have some news to share with her. In that way, he was predictable. Though he was always attached to her, when he was worried about something, his easy nature became more scattered and his nerves became more visible.

She chose to eat dinner in the palace, instructing one of his servants to bring the food and wine into his chambers, where she sat on a cushion next to one of the low tables. He sat across from her, picking at his food.

“Oberyn, you are acting like a child. Please just tell me what is wrong.”

He put his fork down and sighed deeply in response. “I was thinking instead, why don’t we wait until Jaqen is back so that your emotions are, you know.”

“No Oberyn, I don’t know.” She looked up at him, holding his gaze. 

"Okay, just please.”

“Please what?”

He muttered something under his breath, but she made no sound to indicate she was aware of it. He sighed again after a minute of silence. "Another child will be born. I found out yesterday."

“Oh, who is the lucky mother?” The lady immediately picked up her goblet with raised eyebrows and continued with her meal.

“You are not upset.”

“Children are blessings, Oberyn. You are the one who told me that.” 

He tilted his head to the side and nodded gently. His demeanour changed almost immediately, and he leant back in his chair. “Yes, but I thought you might be upset that me and you have not had a child yet.”

“While we have been careful, and I am surprised that we have not yet, it is not a race. The Gods gave us these children for a reason, and while I am not their mother, they are still my children.”

“You are truly a woman too good for me.” She was unable to hide the smile in her drink. 

“Too good for the prince of Dorne. I’m not entirely sure that’s possible.” He let out a hearty laugh and took her free hand across the table. 

“And yet here we are.”

He took her hands to his lips and only pulled harder when she tried to pull away in slight embarrassment. “Do you have a feeling about the gender?”

He knew she was trying to change the subject but indulged her anyway. “Should I not be asking you that?” She raised an eyebrow and tipped her head to the right. “A girl.”

“Again.”

“Would that be so bad?” he almost whined. 

“Of course not. I am just becoming convinced that you are only capable of producing girls.” She left the food that was left and took her goblet of wine, opening the large glass doors on his balcony. There was a long seat with an abundance of pillows with light orange netting around it. 

“Well, I suppose on the day I die, we will know.” He said while following her, he instead took his plate with him and handed her his goblet so he could make himself comfortable. He put the plate on the small table and sat on the opposite side of the seat, letting Y/N curl up in the corner closest to the railing. 

“The mother?”

“A septa,” he said slowly,

She frowned and grumbled something under her breath before locking her eyes with him. “Was I?”

“No, she’s from the reach.” 

She hummed and smiled slightly, wondering about the type of woman that held his affection when she was not around. “Are you going to send the child to the water gardens?”

“Yes, I think that would be best.”

“Nymeria would like that, no?” Nymeria, named after her father, had looks that were sure to rival the lady herself when she came of age. Cheeky and deadly but a lady no less. Someone had once referred to her as Lady Nym after an incident in her infancy, and the name stuck. 

“I think it’s time we go and see them.”

“Hmm, I’m sure Obara has a lot of new skills she wishes to practice with you. Our little sand snakes, who are not so little anymore,” They both smiled at each other.

“We should bring her back to the palace. What better bodyguard to have than Obara with a spear in her hand? " Y/N let out a hearty laugh at the thought of the 10-year-old girl with such a serious face escorting her around the palace.

“I am certain she’ll love that.” The two shared another smile, and Y/N leaned further into her goblet, putting her legs out so that her feet lay on Oberyn. 

He pulled her dress up just enough so that he could caress her calf with his free hand. The lady leaned back into the pillows behind her, bathing in the luxury of such expensive materials. 

“I truly think these pillows would feel so much better on my bare skin.”

“Then please, my dove, by all means, allow yourself that luxury.”

She set the now-empty goblet down on the ground and began untying the strings that held her dress together. The white beige fabric fell to her ankles, giving the impression that she was standing on sand. Her underclothes were short and thin, and the cool evening breeze revealed her nipples beneath the cloth. She sat back down in her bed of pillows, relishing the hungry look in his eyes.

"Truly, you are a queen to behold.”

“A queen perfect enough for this prince?”

“A goddess perfect enough to rival all.” She giggled at his sweet words and crawled onto him. He slowly put his own goblet down along with the plate of long forgotten food. 

He put a hand under her chin, slowly guiding her to him. He whispered something but she didn’t catch it and instead hummed before he pulled her into a slow kiss. The feeling was lazy and familiar, his movements practised and steady but still honey sweet. He pushed her underclothes so that they were sitting just above her hips, her left thigh completely on display. His left hand was moving from her cheek to her hair to the back of her neck while his right hand sat on her hip, thumb tracing small circles into the front of her pelvis. 

“I truly do love you, my Lady of Dorne, the true Dornish beauty.” She stopped the movements of his hands and pulled them, so they were both in front of her.

“I love you more than life itself, my dear Dornish prince.” This time, she pulled him into a slow kiss, their movements languid with the speed of those who had all the time in the world.

Despite that, the lady was aware that her prince was not a patient man and let her hands travel downwards, across his chest and then lower. His hands rested on his thighs, and she looked up at him, asking with her eyes. 

“My lady, I have given you news that I thought you would not be happy about. Let me pleasure you first.”

“Today is a celebration for you to become a father once more. Today, you will allow me to treat you as your title deserves. I am yours to use as you please, but first I wish to please you. Allow me that.”

“As you wish, my lady.”

She wasted no time in pulling him out of the tan trousers he wore. He was impressive. She had seen this view more times than she could count, and yet he still amazed her. He was already semi-hard so she pumped him a few times, letting out a small moan and looking up into his eyes. His pupils were blown, his eyes practically black. The vision of him left her breath shaky, and she resolved to focus on the task at hand before she became too engrossed by him. 

The minute her mouth met his tip, he let out a quiet groan, shifting slightly in his seat. She glanced up at him and noticed the grip he had on the side of the couch and smirked at herself. She gave him a few kitten licks while trying to decide how she should play this, but at his already frustrated groan, she decided to be kind. 

Relaxing her throat, she took as much of him in as she could handle. Immediately, his right hand went to her hair, but seemingly remembering himself, he relaxed and his grip softened. She bobbed up and down, swirling her tongue around his tip at a steady pace, though this only lasted a moment. She knew exactly what he liked, exactly what would make him finish the quickest, so she added her right hand to the base of his cock, twisting and moving up and down. 

She leaned back, putting her weight into her legs so she could move her left hand, which was on his thigh, to cradle his balls. Drool was dripping down her chin as she sped up, but instead of letting it drip onto the red fabric, she wiped it with her left hand to coat his balls in spit. 

Oberyn was never shy about pleasure, and she was confident that anyone in the corridor or a room or two over could hear him. Though not shy it was rare that anything that was not ‘my beautiful girl’ or ‘princess’ left his mouth. She once again looked up to meet his eyes, but they were closed, so she hummed with her mouth still around him. He didn’t seem to hear that either, so she sucked one final time and lifted her head off of him, still pumping him with her hand. His eyes snapped open at the change of sensation, and he cocked his head to the side. 

“My love, please.”

“My prince, I wish only for you to watch me. There is no need to beg.”

He chuckled lightly at her words, clearly trying to maintain a sense of self-control. “My eyes are tied to you, though that may mean that we will need a break before our next session."

Instead of saying anything, she smiled widely at him and once again led his cock down her throat. She knew exactly how he would like to see her, so instead of using her hand, she pushed herself down so her lips met his base. He groaned loudly, and once again a hand tightened on the back of her head. She gagged slightly trying to pull up after a moment, but he kept her there for a few extra seconds. The moment he let go, she pulled herself off him and, wasting no time, slid one of his balls into her mouth, pumping him with her right hand. 

She returned her attention to his cock after both of his balls had been thoroughly coated with liquid. Deep-throating him and bobbing up and down. She paused to change the rhythm, speeding up, meaning she once again had to twist her hand in the places she couldn't reach. She glanced up at him, and just as she asked, his eyes were fixed on her. The look of concentration was heavy on his face. The sound he was making made the lady drip onto the fabric of the couch. 

She knew every sound he made better than her own, so when his pitch changed, she knew to quicken her pace, fondling his balls in her left hand. She anticipated the movement of his hand on the couch and braced herself for the pressure, which met the back of her head and pushed her down until she gagged. Her throat was coated with warm and salty spurts of his release. She swallowed around his cock and pulled herself free as soon as his grip relaxed, licking her lips as she did so.

Before either could say anything, he pulled her to him, into a searing kiss, tasting himself on her tongue and lips. He let out a hum of satisfaction as he pulled away, and his eyes looked tired under the evening light. 

“My love, you must be getting old. You look tired.”

“The satisfaction you bring me is unmatched. It is natural  to be tired after being pleasured by a goddess.”

“You flatter me too much, Oberyn.”

“It is one of my greatest joys.” She giggled, curling up to his naked form, her underclothes leaving little to the imagination. He relished the feeling of her nipples against his skin and allowed himself to completely relax under her embrace. 

They stayed like that, watching the sun completely set outside the Dornish castle. His thumb was tracing circles on her hip, and the slight breeze was beyond calming. Unintentionally, Oberyn fell asleep, and though not looking at him, the deep breathing and soft snores made it obvious. She tried not to disturb him, pulling herself carefully out of his embrace and taking a blanket from on top of the chest at the end of his bed. She took in their goblets and his plate and then curled back up into him, letting him tighten his hold and adjusting the thin blanket over the both of them. 

She woke up to the rising sun tickling her face. She liked sleeping outside. The natural awakening made her want to stay out there forever. She looked behind her at Oberyn, who was still softly snoring. He looked so relaxed and calm like this, though with her he usually did, and yet she still noticed that the tightness in his face that was probably due to his princely duties had disappeared. 

She untangled from him, slowly gathering her dress and putting it on. She resolved to leave early so that she could bathe before Jaqen showed up. As she slipped on her shoes, she noticed a movement behind her, turning to see Oberyn leaning on the balcony doorway with a sleepy smile on his face. 

“I truly wish I could wake up to you like this every morning forever.”

“Marry me then.”

“If I didn’t think there was a bigger purpose for you, I would have insisted the minute I walked back onto the shores of Dorne.” He slowly walked over to her, pulling her into a soft kiss. They whispered ‘I love yous" to each other, and she gathered anything else she had left, including a handful of grapes, and left the room, leaving him still in the doorway with a small wave and a smile. 

Stationed outside the door was Essino once again. He put his head up as soon as the door opened and nodded at her. 

“I have been told to pass on the message that a Jaqen has returned.”

“He’s already here?” She was almost bounding with happiness. Her steps became quicker, and it took a moment for Essino to once again step in time with her. 

"Yes, some time ago, I believe. He is now at one of his brothels, doing the rounds I suppose. "

She hummed to herself and then let out a small cough as though clearing her throat. “Did he come to the house when I was not there?”

“To my knowledge, no.” Perhaps it was slightly ridiculous, but the idea that he didn't walk off the ship to immediately meet her made her deflate.

Even though he wasn't looking at her directly, Essino noticed and tried to comfort her. "My lady, I'm sure he just had an urgent business to attend to and didn't want to disturb you in the early morning."

She hummed in response but chose not to continue the conversation, so she remained silent. He interpreted this as her desire to be alone with her thoughts and chose not to change the subject. She mounted her horse outside the palace and waved to Essino before riding slowly back to her home.