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novaursa · 2 months ago

Note

Maybe a story with reader being the bastard son of the mad king aerys? Idk what fem characters you write for got, any of them would work :)) (maybe lyanna or elia) like aerys betroths them out of spite or as punishment(?)

Love ur work btw <3

The Bastard Prince

- Summary: Your father bethrodes you to Lyanna Stark out of spite, and sends you North.

- Paring: male!reader/Lyanna Stark

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @literaturedog

The towering doors of the throne room loom before you, their weighty presence nearly suffocating under the shadow of the Iron Throne. Two kingsguard flank you, their white cloaks brushing against the stone floor as they lead you forward. It’s rare for the king to summon you so formally, and your gut churns with unease as you step inside.

The hall is filled with lords and courtiers, their eyes turning to you with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. They know who you are—Aerys’s bastard son, Y/N Waters, a living reminder of the king’s indiscretions. You can feel the judgment in their stares, each gaze piercing through the thin armor of indifference you wear.

King Aerys sits high on the Iron Throne, his fingers drumming against the jagged steel as you approach. His eyes, sharp and blazing with a manic energy, settle on you. There’s a cruel smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and you sense something dreadful lurking behind it.

“Ah, here he is,” Aerys declares, his voice booming through the chamber. “My own flesh and blood, though born on the wrong side of the sheets.” Laughter echoes from the gathered lords and ladies, a sycophantic chorus that grates against your ears.

You bow stiffly, keeping your expression as neutral as possible. “Your Grace.”

The king rises, a rustle of fabric and metal, his gaze now shifting toward the northern delegation standing at the base of the throne. Lord Rickard Stark stands at the forefront, his face a stoic mask, but his eyes watchful. Beside him, his son Brandon, tall and proud, and then there’s her.

Lyanna Stark.

The girl is a storm wrapped in furs, her eyes dark and defiant as they meet yours. Her hair, a wild cascade of brown, frames a face flushed with either anger or unease—you can’t tell. She’s beautiful, even more so than the songs suggest, but there’s a fire in her that promises no easy submission.

Aerys gestures toward you with a grand sweep of his hand, his grin widening as he looks back at the Starks. “Lord Rickard, it is with great pleasure that I present to you my son. A gift, you might say, to seal our new alliance.”

You glance at Lord Stark, his jaw tight but giving nothing away. He inclines his head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment or resignation—you’re not sure which. Brandon’s fists are clenched at his sides, his face thunderous, but he remains silent.

“And as promised,” Aerys continues, his voice dripping with mock benevolence, “your daughter, the lovely Lyanna, will be wed to Y/N. A union that will bind the North and the Crown in unbreakable bonds.”

The words crash over you like a wave, leaving you momentarily stunned. He’s promised her to you? An alliance, yes, but you can see it in the king’s eyes—this is a convenient way to rid himself of you, to send you far from King’s Landing. The North is the furthest he can exile you while still keeping you under his thumb.

Lyanna’s face is a mask of outrage, her lips parting as if to speak, but her father’s hand on her arm stops her. There’s a beat of silence, heavy and tense, and then Lord Stark nods once more, his voice steady but strained. “The honor is ours, Your Grace.”

You force yourself to breathe, your heart hammering in your chest. This is what you are to him, a piece to be moved, a pawn in his dangerous games. And now, it seems, Lyanna Stark is caught in that same trap.

“Of course, I couldn’t deprive the North of such a strong, loyal companion,” Aerys says, his gaze flicking back to you. “I’ve heard tales of your valor, Y/N. You’ll do well up there, won’t you?”

There’s a twisted delight in his words, a promise of torment to come. You know better than to challenge him here, in front of all these eyes, so you simply bow your head. “I will serve as best I can, Your Grace.”

Aerys laughs, a high, grating sound that echoes through the hall. “See that you do. Now, join your new family. You’ll have plenty of time to become acquainted before you depart.”

He waves his hand dismissively, and you’re left standing there, feeling the weight of every gaze in the room. With measured steps, you move toward the Starks. Brandon’s eyes blaze with fury, and Lord Rickard’s face is as impenetrable as ever. But it’s Lyanna who holds your attention, her stare unwavering, challenging.

“Lady Lyanna,” you murmur, bowing slightly. It’s all you can manage, unsure of what else to say in the face of such hostility.

She doesn’t lower her gaze, doesn’t flinch. “Ser,” she replies, her voice steady but cold. “I suppose I should congratulate you.”

The bitterness in her tone is unmistakable, and it cuts deeper than you expect. “I didn’t ask for this,” you say quietly, though the words feel inadequate, hollow.

Her eyes flash with something unreadable, and she lifts her chin. “Neither did I.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Lord Stark speaks, his voice low and firm. “We will discuss this in private. There’s no need to make a spectacle here.”

He guides Lyanna away, Brandon following with a dark look cast your way. You watch them go, feeling the weight of the king’s laughter still ringing in your ears.

As the doors close behind them, you’re left standing in the center of the hall, alone and exposed. Aerys’s gaze is still on you, his smile lingering like a poison in the air. He’s won today, sending you far from his court, from the city that’s never felt like home.

The cold wind bites at your skin as you ride north, the chill creeping through the thick layers of your cloak and settling deep in your bones. The southern sun seems like a distant memory now, replaced by the overcast skies and vast, snow-covered landscape of the North. The journey is a long one, and the company keeps mostly to themselves. The Starks are quiet, speaking in low voices among themselves, the anomasity between them and you palpable.

You steal a glance to your side where Lyanna rides, her expression as fierce and guarded as the first time you met her in the throne room. She’s wrapped in heavy furs, her hair whipping behind her in the icy breeze, and though she doesn’t look at you, you can feel her presence like a beacon in the cold, vast emptiness.

For days, your conversations are limited to polite greetings and the occasional exchange of necessities—a stark contrast to the easy camaraderie you’ve known among your companions in King’s Landing. But the North is not the South, and these people are not your friends.

One evening, camp is set near the banks of a frozen river. The northern men build fires and huddle close for warmth, the cold seeping in as night falls. You sit alone, apart from the Starks, staring into the flames, the crackling wood a welcome distraction from the silence that has settled over the camp.

A rustling sound draws your attention, and you look up to see Lyanna approaching. She hesitates for a moment, then lowers herself onto a log across from you, her eyes steady and searching. There’s something different about her tonight—less guarded, though still wary.

“You look like you could use something stronger than water,” she says, her voice soft but carrying the hint of an edge.

You raise an eyebrow, glancing at the flask in her hand. “I’d welcome it, my lady.”

A faint smile tugs at her lips, and she tosses the flask to you. The burn of the Northern spirit as it goes down is harsh but welcome, and you hand it back with a nod of gratitude.

“You’ve been quiet,” she says, watching you carefully. “One might think you’re not looking forward to your new home.”

“I’m not sure what to look forward to,” you admit, meeting her gaze. “Winterfell is a world away from everything I’ve known.”

She studies you for a moment, the firelight dancing in her eyes. “Why did you agree to this? The marriage, I mean.”

You look at her, surprised by the question. “Did I have a choice?”

She huffs, a sound halfway between amusement and frustration. “There’s always a choice. Even if it’s a poor one.”

You think about her words, the weight they carry. “And what choice did I have? Refuse and be cast aside by my father, or agree and be sent away to a place where I’ll never belong. Neither seems particularly appealing.”

Her eyes soften slightly, her gaze turning inward. “I know what it’s like, to feel like you don’t belong.” She pauses, her fingers tightening around the flask. “I’m not like my brothers. I don’t want to be just some man’s wife, to sit and sew and bear children while the world passes me by.”

The honesty in her voice surprises you, and you find yourself leaning forward, wanting to understand her better. “What do you want, then?”

“I want freedom,” she says fiercely, her eyes meeting yours with a burning intensity. “I want to ride and fight and live my life as I choose, not as some king or lord decides for me.”

You feel a pang of guilt then, knowing you’re a part of the cage she’s railing against. “I’m sorry, Lyanna,” you say quietly. “I never wanted to be the one to take that away from you.”

She’s silent for a long moment, then lets out a breath. “I know it’s not your fault, not entirely. You’re as much a tool in this as I am.” She takes a sip from the flask, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not angry. Or that I’ll make this easy for you.”

You can’t help but smile at that, a genuine one that catches you by surprise. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

She studies you, and for the first time, you feel like she’s truly seeing you, not just the bastard son of a mad king forced into her life. “You’re different than I expected,” she says finally.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Maybe.” She tilts her head, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “You don’t seem as... desperate to prove yourself as the other knights and lords I’ve met.”

You shrug, the weight of her words settling over you. “What’s there to prove? I am who I am. No amount of posturing or pretending will change that.”

She nods, as if she understands that better than most. “It’s rare to find someone who thinks like that, especially in court.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence then, the fire crackling between you. The cold seems less biting now, the company warmer than you could have hoped. You talk late into the night, sharing stories—hers of the North, the wild, untamed lands and the fierce people who call it home, and yours of King’s Landing, the treacherous courts and the fleeting moments of beauty hidden within its walls.

You learn that she loves to ride, that she dreams of seeing the world beyond Winterfell’s walls. She tells you about her brothers—Brandon’s wild temper, Ned’s quiet strength, Benjen’s mischievous spirit. And you tell her about your life as a bastard in the Red Keep, the half-smiles and whispered slights, the shadow you’ve always lived under as the king’s unwanted son.

When the fire finally burns low, and the first light of dawn creeps over the horizon, you feel something shift between you. An understanding, perhaps, or at least the beginning of one. You’re still strangers, bound together by forces beyond your control, but you’re no longer enemies. Not entirely.

As you rise to return to your tent, she stands too, holding your gaze for a long moment. “Goodnight, Y/N,” she says softly, her voice carrying the promise of something more.

“Goodnight, Lyanna.”

The next day, and the days that follow, she rides beside you more often. You talk, sometimes for hours, other times sharing only a few words. The others notice, Brandon especially, his eyes narrowing whenever he sees you together. But Lyanna seems unconcerned, her defiance burning as bright as ever.

You know you’re still an outsider, a southerner in a land that will never truly accept you. But for now, that doesn’t seem to matter as much. You have this, whatever it is, with her. And for the first time since the king’s decree, you feel a flicker of hope.

Maybe this marriage doesn’t have to be a cage for either of you. Maybe, just maybe, it can be something more.

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #asoiaf x reader #asoif/got #game of thrones #got x you #got x reader #got x y/n #lyanna stark #lyanna x reader #lyanna x you #lyanna x y/n #lyanna x male reader

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mira-s-bookclub · 7 months ago

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Beneath a Veil of Shadows Part 2

Azriel x Reader

Note: I know one whole week is a lot of time to wait, but have in mind that I am exceptional at over working myself and getting the fattest writing block in history :(. So it is to regulate myself.

Warnings: Mature language, fighting, injury and blood, captivity, mention of torture?

Word Count: 1,9k

. . . . . ╰──╮ ╭──╯ . . . . .

I wake in a cell; seemingly underground should the smell give any indicator. My head is pulsating with hurt and when I try to stand up, my vision whites out. “I swear to the Mother...!” I breathe out.

A figure comes forth from the darkness across from me. Hoping he comes close enough for me to- I jump forwards. Yanked back by the chains biting into my wrists, I whimper. They had locked me up.

A dark voice chuckles from across me and I look up again. The male had wings and I could bet my soul it was the man I went up against. The man, who disappeared without anything else, would be marked for an earlier death than he thought, either by me or Azriel.

“They are soldiers.”

“What?” I jerk at the voice in the dark cell, my voice breathy. “Azriel did you know this would happen? Is this some means to get inside intel?” The last part came out harsher than I intended, at once regretting ever asking. I did not think he would set me up. Himself? Probably, if Rhysand did not interfere.

“Stop it.” He hisses at me. I cannot see him, but I feel his eyes on me, nonetheless. “I had heard talk of loyalties being changed in Hewn City, people getting ready for a new, great power rising to take the throne.” I hear Azriel at ground level, most likely sitting against the wall, a soft rattling in his chains. “I did not intent for us to approach either problem, but I should have informed you, however.” His voice sounds resigned, apologetic, even. Though he is faulty of nothing. “I would never have asked Rhysand to take you if I knew, know that.”

My heart misses a beat. “You were the reason I was sent here? You asked for me?”

“I missed you.” His voice was almost too soft to hear. “Even before,” he pauses, “our falling-out. I missed something I had not even experienced with you, a closeness that never would be enough. It did not help when I create space between us, but it was easier to pretend the further away from you I was.”

“Azriel- “

“I never would have taken you, Y/n. Never. Not if I had known.” His breathing is uneven, and I can hear him ruffling his wings.

“I do not blame you, Azriel. There was no way you could have known, even if you had informed me, I would not have done anything differently.”

He snorts. “You always stick to a plan, no matter the consequences.”

“I thought that was a desired skill?”

“Not for you.” My own breathing almost faltered. “Abort the mission, Y/n, if you see the result ending up captive or dead.”

I did not know what to say to that. I did not have it in me to leave others behind. If it were not the Inner Circle fighting, then it was someone who chose to fight with me, and I could not disappoint. But if it were the Inner Circle, if it were Azriel, there would be nothing on my mind except the knowing that they must, at all costs, come out of it alive.

I shift, my chains clinking at the movement. If I think of the chains for too long; I was sure panic would cloud my judgment, making me reckless and rash.

Leaning back against the wall, I contemplate our situation. A routine check, Azriel had said, turned traitors and wars. Stuck behind enemy lines, I did not know whether to cry or laugh. I chose the latter.

“I did not know captivity could spark such a light in you, Y/n.” Azriel’s dark voice sent a shiver down my back. Sliding down the wall to the ground, I sniff. Not noticing my tears until they had made their way down my cheeks.

“I have plans with Feyre tonight.”

Azriel was quiet for a time. “I think you might have to reschedule.”

Neither of us spoke for a while after that, the seriousness of the situation weighing down on us. Azriel had estimated for this mission to take a couple of days, and it was uncertain how much time Rhysand was willing to give before tapping into resources to find us. Azriel did not enlighten me to his thoughts, but I knew what clouded my own mind; it would take days before someone would come.

The last hours had been calm and quiet, safe for the irritating drops of water falling from the ceiling. The small space was humid and dark.

At times when panic seemed to seep through my bones, I closed my eyes and wished back to the past. I have memorized the way the sun used to hit my face, how the sand felt between my toes. I am smart enough to know that the brain remembers only the selected few, happy, memories. But Mother was it happy. Thinking back, I could remember snippets of a ship route where my sleeping quarters did not look too far from this.

Right after leaving Cretea, the emissary had told me the cost of taking care of two people would result in far treacherous travels, he had been right. I might have never stepped foot on a ship before, but I sure as hell would not have been ready for that travel, even if I had. We had spent days loading cargo, sleeping in small cots, I had never really dried up during those days. But as I think back to a different time, I wonder if I would have traded places with a younger me.

I look towards Azriel, who is standing again. From the sounds of it he had looked around the cell, probably for anything of use in this situation.

“Azriel?” My voice pierces the silence, and I internally wince.

“Mhm.”

I take a deep breath. “You are more strategically inclined than me, anything on the situation?”

“Do not talk your skills down.” His voice is near, and I hear him sit by me again. I wait for a genuine answer from him, not advice I surely will not take.

“Our last council, not with Prythian, but only The Night Court, was about the ongoing threat of war. Our world is on the verge of destruction, a problem bigger than Rhysand and Amren have thought, even bigger than Elain have foreseen from her position as The Day Courts Seer.” Azriel seems to take a breath, letting the thought sink that they must go to war again, so close to the last. Resources and relocation of people would bring a whole other crisis. “This... situation only confirms my speculations that they are rearming, and that fast.

My confusion swirls again. “Who?”

Heavy steps outside our cell silence us. I can feel my heart quicken and sweat begin to form on my forehead.

“Do not say a thing,” he whispers.

I nod but feel stupid when I remember Azriel cannot see me. My chains feel cold as I caress them, trying to find out if they will unclasp with force, I find nothing.

The door opens, revealing the same male I stood up against, his wings tight against his back. The shining light coming from his torch creates a stark difference between the darkness cloaking this cell. Blinking against the light, his eyes find mine, his lips pulling into a smirk.

“Shadow-singer,” The Illyrian turns to greet Azriel, who says nothing in return, making him focus his attention back to me. “And you, I do not know the name of. Enlighten me.”

I stare at him, knowing Azriel wants me to stay quiet, though everything in me wants to question him. His motifs, his goals, who he works for, though I have my speculations.

He looks gruesome in the flickering light, and as his face consorts in anger at my silence, I know deep down we are fucked.

“Do you not know who I am, Little Raven?” His voice soft, so different from his exterior.

The only sound I hear is my heartbeat, pounding in my ears, and I think it might drown out the next thing he says, I think I might hope it does.

“I am Commander Denholm, of High King Koschei the Deathless’ armies.”

And I think I might die a little bit.

“Get your hands off her!” Azriel’s chains rattle and screech. My own chains pulled by the Gods forsaken male in front of me, hard enough to send me to my knees a second time. I seethe up at him, my anger unmatched. Separating us would mean interrogation, and I reckon this man does not do that civilized. I will not let this man get his hands on Azriel.

I balk as his hands come down to grip my chin and Azriel growls.

“Resist and your friend here die; it is not ideal, but one source of information is all I need.”

That shuts me up pretty quick. I look back at Azriel, who, based on my expression, tugs harder at his chains, knowing I’m yielding. I memorize his face, his expression desperate and full of despair. “Please.” He pleads with Denholm.

I stand on shaking legs, my mind catching up to what this means, playing every scenario to what an interrogation entail. Looking back to Denholm I raise my head a fraction. I will not go lightly, nor will I yield the information he wants, needs.

Tugging on my chains he walks me out of the damp cell; the hallway is made of dark stone, where no light would have made its way down here would it not be for the torches littering the walls. We turn a corner, and doors line every side of us. I try to picture what type of person, or creature, must be behind some of them. Were they innocent, sent here only by mistake? Or were they mad, locked in a battle of the mind, bloodthirsty and cruel?

We continue around another corner and up a set of stairs, at the end of the hallway lay another set of stairs, but he took a right corner, and I followed.

I knew we were close by the expression on his face; cold satisfaction reeked from him. At the end lay a big iron door, heavy enough that even the Commander had to push it open, I am sure it is thick enough to be soundproof.

A small sound escapes my lips, not going unnoticed by Denholm. He threads my chains through a hook in the ceiling and pulls me up just so that my toes reach the cold ground.

He has turned his back to me, ravaging through a table holding different objects I am sure Azriel could name. Reminded of the fact that Azriel does this for a living, I wonder if this is how his victims must feel. If he thinks what is happening right now is right, considering he does this too.

My breath comes quicker, and quicker, until I’m sure I cannot breathe. I cannot breathe. The walls are moving, and they are moving inwards, closing in on me. My heart is like a finch’s. I cannot breathe, and tears roll down my face as the Commander turns around to meet my gaze. His wings ruffling and rearranging, as I have seen Azriel’s and Cassian’s do when excited.

And in his hand, appearing from his side to give me a good view, is a whip.

And a sob escapes me.

. . . . . ╰──╮ ╭──╯ . . . . .

To be added to the Taglists, comment:

All ACOTAR - 🌹

All Azriel - 🥀

All TOG - 🌼

Tag List: @tele86 @lilah-asteria @mariahoedt @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @tenshis-cake @mybestfriendmademe

#azriel #acotar #acotar fic #acotar x reader #batboys x reader #spymaster #azriel acotar

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coffeeman777 · 11 months ago

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Everyone reading this, this is for you. God appointed that you would see this post at this time. He has a message for you, please don't ignore it.

The message is this: repent of your sins, and believe in Jesus! This life will not last forever. Some day, maybe some day soon, each and every one of us will stand before the Lord to be judged. For those who repent and receive God's offer of pardon through Lord Jesus' sacrifice, they will obtain eternal life. Those who refuse the Lord Jesus and die in their sins, they will receive condemnation and everlasting punishment. Please, I beg you, don't let yourself be counted among the latter!

If you read this and you want to know more, please don't hesitate to reach out to me.

I love you all. I'll be praying for you!

Romans 10:9-13

"...9 because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. 10 For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved. 11 For the Scripture says, “Everyone who believes in Him will not be put to shame.” 12 For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; for the same Lord is Lord of all, bestowing His riches on all who call on Him. 13 For “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”"

Titus 2:11-14

"11 For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, 12 training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, 13 waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, 14 who gave Himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for Himself a people for His own possession who are zealous for good works."

Titus 3:3-7

"3 For we ourselves were once foolish, disobedient, led astray, slaves to various passions and pleasures, passing our days in malice and envy, hated by others and hating one another. 4 But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, 5 He saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to His own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, 6 whom He poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, 7 so that being justified by His grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life."

2 Thessalonians 1:5-10

"5 This is evidence of the righteous judgment of God, that you may be considered worthy of the kingdom of God, for which you are also suffering— 6 since indeed God considers it just to repay with affliction those who afflict you, 7 and to grant relief to you who are afflicted as well as to us, when the Lord Jesus is revealed from heaven with His mighty angels 8 in flaming fire, inflicting vengeance on those who do not know God and on those who do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus. 9 They will suffer the punishment of eternal destruction, away from the presence of the Lord and from the glory of His might, 10 when He comes on that day to be glorified in His saints, and to be marveled at among all who have believed, because our testimony to you was believed."

Revelation 20:11-15

"11 Then I saw a great white throne and Him who was seated on it. From His presence earth and sky fled away, and no place was found for them. 12 And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Then another book was opened, which is the book of life. And the dead were judged by what was written in the books, according to what they had done. 13 And the sea gave up the dead who were in it, Death and Hades gave up the dead who were in them, and they were judged, each one of them, according to what they had done. 14 Then Death and Hades were thrown into the lake of fire. This is the second death, the lake of fire. 15 And if anyone's name was not found written in the book of life, he was thrown into the lake of fire."

#christianity #jesus #truth #salvation #The Gospel

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dracalix · 5 months ago

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HOTD S2 EP 2

everytime i think i can’t hate crispin and daemon even more i acc do. assholes.

« the white cloak is the symbol of our purity » OH BC YOU’RE PURE MISTER HYPOCRITE? 🤡

and when were YOU when jaehaerys was murdered? BANGING ALICUNT.

his hatred for rhaenyra UGH this is what happens when you reject the « nice guy ».

also i was SO glad nyra finally tells daemon what he really is and shows us his real face bc YES he’s a p€d0 who has always been jealous of her power. he used her as the easiest way to get close to this power. there was never love between them, only manipulation and grip. viserys was both afraid and uncertain he could count on his own brother.

« book daemon would never 😞 » OFC THIS SELFISH MF WOULD HELLO? he started to teach nyra abt s€x when she was like 14 in the book (started to have eyes for her in the show). he took her to a brothel at 17/18 and left her there half naked to ruin her reputation bc he perfectly knew everyone would know. and since she was already the heir well that was the ideal way of marrying her and getting closer to the crown he had lost. he’s a horrible man.

well now abt the greens, aegon and helaena DESTROYED me. their ways of grieving are so different, aegon being more violent and helaena being more … idk, in a deep state of shock and depression. her madness is slowly coming and i’m so afraid … my girl 💔 (HER HAVING A PANIC ATTACK ON THE CARRIAGE HELP).

ik aegon isn’t a good person but i think his character is so deep and interesting … he could’ve been a whole different person if someone had cared abt him in his youth and if things had been different (also i’m MADLY in love with tom glynn carney, it somewhat impairs my judgment lmao).

« my little son’s body » 💔

quite relieved to find out the parade was otto’s idea. i mean this man is monstrous, aegon, helaena and alicent didn’t want that (even if alicent didn’t really fight the idea). good thing aegon fired this creep bc « viserys was right abt you » I’M SORRY DIDN’T YOU PUT HIM ON THE THRONE WITH THE HELP OF YOUR DAUGHTER WHO CHOSE TO TRUST THE LAST WORDS OF AN OLD SENILE MAN AFTER HE PROBABLY TALKED NONSENSE FOR YEARS 🤡

aemond with the woman who r@ped him 💔 poor baby, he seemed so vulnerable all naked and curled up, regretting what happened with his nephew.

DAERON MENTIONED!!

jace opening himself abt his relationshipS with fatherS 😞

ALSO absolutely devastated abt the cargyll brothers. almost cried when they fought. erryk killing himself out of shame and honor was heartbreaking.

anyway, this episode was GREAT, get behind me asoiaf victims 🤺🤺

(i need helaena to tell EVERYONE what her mom and ser crispin were doing)

#house of the dragon #hotd season 2 #hotd #criston cole #daemon targaryen #helaena targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #alicent hightower #otto hightower #daeron targaryen #aemond targaryen

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mybeautifulchristianjourney · 7 months ago

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Daniel's Vision of the Four Beasts

1 In the first year of Belshazzar king of Babylon, Daniel had a dream, and visions passed through his mind as he was lying in bed. He wrote down the substance of his dream.

2 Daniel said: ‘In my vision at night I looked, and there before me were the four winds of heaven churning up the great sea. 3 Four great beasts, each different from the others, came up out of the sea.

4 ‘The first was like a lion, and it had the wings of an eagle. I watched until its wings were torn off and it was lifted from the ground so that it stood on two feet like a human being, and the mind of a human was given to it.

5 ‘And there before me was a second beast, which looked like a bear. It was raised up on one of its sides, and it had three ribs in its mouth between its teeth. It was told, “Get up and eat your fill of flesh!”

6 ‘After that, I looked, and there before me was another beast, one that looked like a leopard. And on its back it had four wings like those of a bird. This beast had four heads, and it was given authority to rule.

7 ‘After that, in my vision at night I looked, and there before me was a fourth beast – terrifying and frightening and very powerful. It had large iron teeth; it crushed and devoured its victims and trampled underfoot whatever was left. It was different from all the former beasts, and it had ten horns.

8 ‘While I was thinking about the horns, there before me was another horn, a little one, which came up among them; and three of the first horns were uprooted before it. This horn had eyes like the eyes of a human being and a mouth that spoke boastfully.

9 ‘As I looked,

‘thrones were set in place, and the Ancient of Days took his seat. His clothing was as white as snow; the hair of his head was white like wool. His throne was flaming with fire, and its wheels were all ablaze. 10 A river of fire was flowing, coming out from before him. Thousands upon thousands attended him; ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him. The court was seated, and the books were opened.

11 ‘Then I continued to watch because of the boastful words the horn was speaking. I kept looking until the beast was slain and its body destroyed and thrown into the blazing fire. 12 (The other beasts had been stripped of their authority, but were allowed to live for a period of time.)

13 ‘In my vision at night I looked, and there before me was one like a son of man, coming with the clouds of heaven. He approached the Ancient of Days and was led into his presence. 14 He was given authority, glory and sovereign power; all nations and peoples of every language worshipped him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed.

The interpretation of the dream

15 ‘I, Daniel, was troubled in spirit, and the visions that passed through my mind disturbed me. 16 I approached one of those standing there and asked him the meaning of all this.

‘So he told me and gave me the interpretation of these things: 17 “The four great beasts are four kings that will rise from the earth. 18 But the holy people of the Most High will receive the kingdom and will possess it for ever – yes, for ever and ever.”

19 ‘Then I wanted to know the meaning of the fourth beast, which was different from all the others and most terrifying, with its iron teeth and bronze claws – the beast that crushed and devoured its victims and trampled underfoot whatever was left. 20 I also wanted to know about the ten horns on its head and about the other horn that came up, before which three of them fell – the horn that looked more imposing than the others and that had eyes and a mouth that spoke boastfully. 21 As I watched, this horn was waging war against the holy people and defeating them, 22 until the Ancient of Days came and pronounced judgment in favour of the holy people of the Most High, and the time came when they possessed the kingdom.

23 ‘He gave me this explanation: “The fourth beast is a fourth kingdom that will appear on earth. It will be different from all the other kingdoms and will devour the whole earth, trampling it down and crushing it. 24 The ten horns are ten kings who will come from this kingdom. After them another king will arise, different from the earlier ones; he will subdue three kings. 25 He will speak against the Most High and oppress his holy people and try to change the set times and the laws. The holy people will be delivered into his hands for a time, times and half a time.

26 ‘“But the court will sit, and his power will be taken away and completely destroyed for ever. 27 Then the sovereignty, power and greatness of all the kingdoms under heaven will be handed over to the holy people of the Most High. His kingdom will be an everlasting kingdom, and all rulers will worship and obey him.”

28 ‘This is the end of the matter. I, Daniel, was deeply troubled by my thoughts, and my face turned pale, but I kept the matter to myself.’ — Daniel 7 | New International Version - UK (NIVUK) Holy Bible, New International Version® Anglicized, NIV® Copyright © 1979, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® All rights reserved worldwide. Cross References: Job 33:14; Psalm 2:6; Psalm 12:3; Daniel 2:40; Daniel 4:19; Daniel 5:6; Daniel 8:22; Matthew 8:20; Matthew 24:31; Matthew 28:3; Luke 1:33; Luke 2:19; 1 Corinthians 6:2-3; 2 Thessalonians 2:3; Hebrews 1:14; Revelation 5:5; Revelation 11:1; Revelation 11:5; Revelation 11:7; Revelation 12:3; Revelation 13:1-2; Revelation 13:5; Revelation 17:8; Revelation 17:12; Revelation 17:14; Revelation 19:20; Revelation 20:10; Revelation 22:5

#Daniel's Vision of the Four Beasts #Daniel's Vision of the Ancient of Days #Daniel's Visions Interpreted #Daniel 7 #Book of Daniel #Old Testament #NIVUK #New International Version Bible - Anglicized #Biblica Inc.

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cosmicjoke · 1 year ago

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I was thinking about how Levi is, in microcosm, representative of one of the main themes of SnK, which is of course the foolishness and danger of casting judgement and making assumptions about people and their actions without proper context or understanding of those actions, and how those sorts of judgments can lead to disastrous consequences, both personally and on a larger scale.

We see people do this to Levi multiple times throughout the story. It's ironic, too, in the face of Levi's nonjudgmentalism.

We see Mikasa judging Levi for beating Eren up during his trial, even going so far as to vocally call him degrading names and threatening to get him back for for he did. We later see several members of the 104th negatively judge Levi and accuse him of wanting to make a grab for power because of what he did to Historia. We see the 104th again, later on, make further negative judgments about Levi because they saw him kill people, with Mikasa again accusing Levi of having something "wrong" with him. And then we later see Floch judge Levi negatively for choosing to save Armin over Erwin, accusing him of letting his personal feelings get in the way of making a logical decision.

What's really interesting about all of this, and also sad, is that in all of these instances, these knee-jerk judgments turn out to be completely off the mark and wrong, and the people making said judgments are shortly faced with the consequences of making assumptions and lording their supposed moral superiority over Levi.

In the first instance, despite Mikasa's vocal dislike of Levi, and threatening behavior towards him, he ends up saving her life and helping her to save Eren from Annie. And, indeed, the main source of Mikasa's dislike and anger is her perception that Levi is treating Eren badly, when in reality, Levi does all he can to protect and safeguard Eren, and only did what he did in the first place to save Eren's life, the very things Mikasa joined the SC for to begin with.

In the second instance, it becomes clear, after Historia assumes the throne, that Levi never had any intention of making a grab for power, or that he had any sort of personal agenda at all. The only thing he does is support Historia in her attempts to reform the class disparities that exist between the people of the Underground and those above. He gains nothing personally from this, and the 104th realize that their assumption about Levi trying to strong arm or manipulate Historia for personal gain was wrong, that in fact, he only ever had altruistic intentions for why he did what he did. Dimo Reeves understood that immediately, and it makes sense, him being a more worldly and mature person. He called Levi an "awkward but kind man", while trying to explain to Historia that she shouldn't be mad at Levi.

In the third instance, we see Jean having to face the consequences of his black and white moral thinking of killing always being wrong, when he needs to be saved by Armin, and in the process, puts the burden of taking a life onto Armin because of his own indecision and desire to maintain moral purity. Ironically, in his own, selfish desire to claim the moral high ground, he puts Armin through great emotional turmoil and pain. Jean had been happy to judge Levi for killing others not so long before that, boldly claiming that he would never do such a thing, and that it was always wrong, no matter the circumstances, and because of that, he ended up causing great harm to another person, a person he considers his friend, no less.

And then the last instant, with Floch, judging Levi for choosing to save Armin over Erwin, is yet another assumption made about Levi's actions without understanding the reasoning, or even attempting to understand, and Floch's assumption here, in a way, leads to him taking matters into his own hands while laboring under the belief that they needed a "devil" to save Paradis. It's why he hitches his wagon to Eren and leads the movement to overthrow the military top brass and assist in unleashing the Rumbling.

The point being, all these instances of people negatively judging and making assumptions about Levi and his actions, without properly understanding the reasons or context for those actions, really encapsulates the overarching theme of SnK of the dangers, unfairness and consequences of judging others without attempting to first understand them.

#Levi Ackerman #shingkei no kyojin #attack on titan

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lucidknight-blog · 1 year ago

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DANIEL‬ ‭7‬:‭9‬-‭12‬ ‭

“I watched as thrones were put in place and the Ancient One sat down to judge. His clothing was as white as snow, his hair like purest wool. He sat on a fiery throne with wheels of blazing fire, and a river of fire was pouring out, flowing from his presence. Millions of angels ministered to him; many millions stood to attend him. Then the court began its session, and the books were opened. I…

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#2023 #bible #Bible Thoughts #Daniel #great white throne #judgment #little horn #prophecy #REVELATION

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novisius · 2 months ago

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Thunder Bringer

Starting in the middle I guess, I have also been actively listening to it and thinking on the animatic, so that's another reason. I also have to apologize, my brain moves fast and each time I hear it, it mutates a bit, so some of the things I describe may not be possible given the implied timeframe.

[Beginning music] Everyone is looking to the sky, clearly scared, and expecting something. Possibly some shots of the ship moving away from an island. The crew are thin, they have been starving for some time.

[Once the electronic music begins blasting] The blast is proceeded by a wave of water and a wave of clouds. This music is not just blasting for the listener.

[During the blasting electronic music] Zeus comes out of the clouds, his black hair and robes being made of the clouds as he descends enough to be seen. He smiles at them, knowingly. My version of Zeus has claws, pointed ears, black sclera, grey/white/yellow eyes (depending on mood and lightning useage) but are undeniably and eagle's, his is thin yet very clearly muscled. Now, to explain why his hair is black, from what I remember of a mythology class, that was like, the color his hair was, and he looked like thirty bc that was old for the time. So I'm good with that, and it also makes his hair similar to 'storm storm' clouds, as they remain like clouds even when he eventually removes himself from them. His hair generally covers his back, which there is a reason for this later. His robes are black with the blocky sorta swirl decal on the edges, though the swirls are sky blue and in-between two lines of gold. Again, 'storm storm' clouds, clear skies, and lightning for the color scheme of the clothes. I will be the first to admit that @Duvetbox has absolutely influenced what I see when I think of Zeus. Its a good look, it does things I want to put on other gods, yeah. Beyond what has been mentioned, I don't have a strong opinion on appearance.

Pride is a damsel in distress Grabs a female shaped could out of the storm clouds around him. My thoughts are that Athena and Penelope have a similar body shape 'in this animatic continuity'. Reason being is simply bc I want the cloud here to have a lot of threatening double meanings based on the line and 'who' it is at the moment. Anyways, beyond being grabbed and being brought close to him, I don't have any specifics here. Hiding away where only I can undress her Zaps a shoulder and the 'cloud's clothes' fall away like it was cut...Penelope mode. Also, to be clear, no nudity, simply an implication. Try all she can not to confess Inanimate object resists god. In the end, it's all the same once I apply all the pressure Resistance failed, pulled back. Zeus is eyeing Odysseus.

Thunder, bring her through the wringer Begins dancing with the cloud in the air, even doing a lil twirl. Show her I'm the judgment call Zeus is getting frisky with the cloud, a hand brought up to the cloud's...face area. The one who makes her kingdom fall Once he says 'fall' he grabs the cloud's throat. At this point I believe it is shifting to Athena mode. Lightning, wield her, use and yield her Holding the cloud out to the side, he begins blasting it with lightning. The cloud is colored lightning yellow and seems to be in pain, darkening from the grey/white it was a moment ago. Show her what she can't conceal The crew is collectively shitting themselves at whatever they are watching. For true nature will be revealed The cloud dissipates, throat crushed and electrocuted, back to the other clouds in the background of the scene.

Tell me, Odysseus, If I were to make you choose Zeus sits down in a throne of cloud, though due to perspective, he is massive, his foot next to the ship and about as large. He looks somewhat like a bored monarch on a throne. The lives of your men and crew or your own No strong opinions. Why do I think they'd lose? If we see Zeus, he smiles. Enlighten me, King of Ithaca No strong opinions. Since hunger was far too great No strong opinions. I wonder who'd take the weight of the damned Barometric pressure on the crew go brr. They are all brought to their knees, including Odysseus. And suffer a gruesome fate to the Zeus is suddenly on the ship, fun-sized human-sized, walking through the crew, to Odysseus.

Thunder bringer, here to ring your Continues walking, smiling whenever we see his face. Ears until you're deaf with fear Continues walking, but looks to the right with his eye. And spear you while your death is near Spears Eurylochus' shoulder with some lightning from an open hand, then he turns his hand to a 'no no' or 'tsk tsk' fingerwag as Eurylochus falls to the ground. My brain says that happens, the wag, to the beat of 'your death is near'. Lightning wielder, here to yield your The rest of the crew has begun to stand up. Time, for you have passed your prime He grabs Odysseus by the hair or throat and lifts him into the air. Sublime you for your act of crime His feet divorced from the ground just enough so that when Zeus puts him back down, he can stand.

Choose. Zeus looks more cordial than threatening, having released Odysseus unharmed.

Choose? Odysseus is obviously confused.

Someone's gotta die today Zeus dusts of Odysseus' shoulder. And you have got the final say No strong opinions. You? Zeus gestures to Odysseus. Or your crew? Zeus gestures to the crew.

Please don't make me do this Odysseus is falling to his knees, beginning to cry as he grabs Zeus' robes begging. Don't make me do this Zeus for his part, doesn't do anything or react.

When does a comet become a meteor? Crew shots, the ones who weren't standing are getting up or already standing. When does a candle become a blaze? (I can take the suffering from you) A yellow Penelope appears behind Odysseus, smoothly going down to the same level as Odysseus initially hugging him from behind and moving to be before him. Throughout her singing parts, she is comforting Odysseus. He is, for a lack of better words, melting into the embrace. He hasn't seen her in years and...he has been worn down, he is exhausted, and he is ready to stop this journey. She is kneeling with him, holding him, though we never truly see her face. When does a man become a monster? Most of the men are fearful. When does a ripple become a tidal wave? Some of the men look to the side, thinking of bolting. When does the reason become the blame? (Let me take the suffering from) Some of the men draw their weapons. When does a man become a monster? No strong opinions beyond crew shots assuming that time allows.

[The thunder after Penelope finishes singing.] Penelope for like, a frame, is replaced by lightning. Odysseus has his eyes wide open, realization and despair written on his face. Near this time was another thunder sound, that is when Zeus appears behind Odysseus, impassive, watching him, hands behind his back, patiently waiting for Odysseus' decision.

Captain? Eurylochus steps forward before the rest of the crew, asking the question as he holds his wounded shoulder.

I have to see her Odysseus can't look at Eurylochus or the crew.

But we'll die Eurylochus says with a hopeful smile.

I know Odysseus looks at Eurylochus, pained, devastated even. Killing his friends to see his wife again does hurt him, but he also knows that there wasn't a choice here. In his head, Zeus just came down here and told him 'I'm going to make you tell me to kill your crew'.

Thunder, bring her through the wringer Zeus smiles as his cloudy hair stops being so poofy and 'long' (short hair Zeus) as the portion on his back forms into wings, launching him into the sky. Throughout the rest of this song's lyrics, some of the crew runs even jumping off the ship in desperate, while others charge at Odysseus with weapons desperately trying to kill him, sparks and lightning deflecting their weapons. Odysseus is not emotionally okay while this is happening. Eurylochus, for his part, is not doing anything. He knows that he is not making it home, he is tired, and he knows that nothing he does will matter here. To a degree, he welcomes the end of the journey. Show her I'm the judgment call The one who makes her kingdom fall Lightning, wield her, use and yield her Show her what she can't conceal For true nature will be revealed

[Final Lighting] Zeus flicks his finger downward. Obliterating this ship and her crew is effortless, unlike the other Zeus' that build up these grand attacks, this one just does a simple motion. The musical build-up being used more for the crew and their desperation.

[The end bit] The ship gets more or less vaporized, only Odysseus and the immediate area around him are unharmed. The first place struck is Eurylochus who stands near the center of the deck. Those who jumped overboard are electrocuted. It ends as Odysseus closes his eyes in acceptance.

#epic the musical #imagination #reimagined #epic the thunder saga #animatic outline

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scribeforchrist-blog · 4 months ago

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Telling The Truth & Making No Vows

MEMORY VERSE OF THE WEEK

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+ 1 Corinthians 6:14 And God raised the Lord and will also raise us up by his power.

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VERSE OF THE DAY

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+ James 5:12 Above all, my brothers and sisters, do not swear, either by heaven or by earth or with any other oath. But let your “yes” mean “yes” and your “no” mean “no” so that you won’t fall under judgment.

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** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN TRUTHS **

I AM SPEAKING THE TRUTH

I AM LOVING GOD

I AM NOT TAKING ANY OATHS

I AM FILLED WITH JESUS

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READ TIME: 7 Minutes & 45 Seconds

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THOUGHTS:

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Lying causes more damage than we will know. It’s a lot of people that would whether lie then to tell the truth to anyone , and lying isn’t something we should do at anytime .I have learned that the best policy is to be honest about everything. You might not like what I say, but I am always going to be honest, and I will always be that way with anyone.

Still, if we aren’t honest, what's going to happen is we must start saying I swear on this or I swear on that, and people won't take us seriously because they feel they can't trust us. Some people say I swear on blah blah blah because they think this makes it more powerful, or they think it gives their words more life, and it doesn’t. Still, today's bible verse says to let your yes be yes and your no be no so that you won't fall into judgment. We must start being honest about what we say; if that person doesn’t believe us, we can't make them. It’s no reason for us to take it a step further by taking a oath or anything, all we can do is speak the truth and let that be enough

Matthew 5:33-37 Again, you have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not swear falsely, but shall perform to the Lord what you have sworn.’ But I say to you, Do not take an oath at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. And do not take an oath by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black. Let what you say be simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything more than this comes from evil.

This is another verse that says, do not make an oath at all, don’t do it, either by God's throne or heaven, and do not swear upon your head because you can't make the hair on your head white or black, it goes on to say let it be a simple no or yes and a lot of us won't do this, the words we say it has an impact on our lives, and how we look before God, and some people don’t take lying or swearing as a big sin and let me tell you, friends, it is no big sin or small sin.

All of them are ugly in the eyes of the lord, and I know it is hard to tell someone you don’t like their dress if they ask. Sometimes, it is hard to tell the truth, but would you whether look good before man or in front of God? Don’t get me wrong, it's not about good or bad; it is about walking in holiness, and we can't do it if we are filling our mouths with lies.

Matthew 23:16-18 Woe to you, blind guides! You say, ‘If anyone swears by the temple, it means nothing, but anyone who swears by the gold of the temple is bound by that oath.’17 You blind fools! Which is greater: the gold, or the temple that makes the gold sacred? 18 You also say, ‘If anyone swears by the altar, it means nothing, but anyone who swears by the gift on the altar is bound by that oath.’

Jesus wanted them to know that no matter what kind of oath they make, it is bounding that the lord holds everyone accountable for their oaths and that some people swear upon an altar or something because it means nothing to them. They feel it's not binding, but children of God, we must understand everything we do as far as an oath God takes it seriously, don’t try to make yourself seemingly great in front of others, God will hold you to an oath you weren’t prepared to keep.

Numbers 30:2 If a man vows a vow to the Lord or swears an oath to bind himself by a pledge, he shall not break his word. He shall do according to all that proceeds out of his mouth

The Bible tells us again we MUST do ACCORDING TO everything that comes out our mouth, even if it’s a oath or a pledge; we must keep our word and do as we have said; a lot of us don’t see oaths as binding or oaths as something we should do, but we must be honest, one of the many things about Jesus when he walked this earth he was a man of honor, and he made sure that everything he did was according to the word. Jesus is truth, and when we say we have Christ living in us, we must do precisely what Jesus did, which is live in a life of truth and honor; he loved in a way that pleased God! Does your life scream honesty and truth?Are you truthful no matter what!?

*** Today, we learned that Jesus, whether for us not to swear, in Matthew 5:34 says But I say to you, Do not take an oath at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God,” Jesus says it here but some of us still do this because we think it gives us power to our oaths but it doesn’t, we must look at all areas of our life so that we can live in accordance to his will and when we begin to pray, and we see that the Holy Spirit isn’t moving in our lives or we feel an absence in our lives we must see if we did something he doesn’t like such as making oaths or ANYTHING ELSE that could grieve the Holy Spirit, not doing as he likes, not forgiving others these things plays a significant role in our life and relationship with the Holy Spirit.

Are we living the truth of God , by committing to no oaths, and living in a holy way we have to follow everything to the letter. And no, we won’t get this right off at first. Still, as we grow in God, we realize that our words have value and power, and what we do can tremendously weigh on our lives with Him. Hence, we must ensure that what we do consistently is pleasing to the Holy Spirit, making oaths, sexual sin, etc., or some of the things that could grieve the Holy Spirit.

Everything is spiritual; when we understand and consider everything, we will be less likely to do this. If someone asks us a question; we should give them NOTHING BUT THE truth; and if they don’t believe us . Don’t worry about it; remember, you’re NOT here to impress others but to please God. ©Seer~ Prophetess Lee

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PRAYER

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Heavenly Father, we thank you for everything and ask you to forgive us of our sins. Help us be holy and help us not to tell lies or to do oaths. Lord, help us to remember that when we speak, our yes be yes and our no be no. Lord, we give you everything. Forgive us if we grieve you right now; we give you back our lips, we give you back our lives, & we give you back our time, and we ask you right now to use according to your will in Jesus' name, amen.

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REFERENCES

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+ Hebrews 7:28 For the law appoints men in their weakness as high priests, but the word of the oath, which came later than the law, appoints a Son who has been made perfect forever.

+ Deuteronomy 6:13 It is the Lord your God you shall fear. Him you shall serve, and by his name, you shall swear.

+ Ecclesiastics 5:4 When you vow a vow to God, do not delay paying it, for he has no pleasure in fools. Pay what you vow.

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FURTHER READINGS

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Proverbs 5

Leviticus 5

Ruth 2

SOS 3

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theforgottenmcrmy · 2 years ago

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Vipers~ Part 2/3 (Ser Harwin Strong x Reader)

᯽ Please note that this is an overall part 14 of the series “Growing Strong”. The masterlist for the series and vipers part 1/3 can be found on the pinned post on my profile. Tumblr is being mean and not letting me link it here. :( ᯽

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong x Tyrell! Female Reader

Warnings: GOT typical sexism, canon divergence, mentions of of previous death of characters, GOT typical stigmatized bastardy, hypocrisy, Daemon Targaryen is a menace, Larys Strong is a warning in and of himself, violence, blood, a man literally gets beheaded

Summary: With even just a little bit of the gods’ favor, that struggle would not come to war. But when any Targaryen ascended the throne amongst contention, how could fire not be the result?

A/N: Thank you all for the love on the first part🖤 I tried to take a different approach with Queen Alicent here, and I hope that translates alright. I hope you guys have had and continue to have a great week🖤 Part 3 will be up on Friday.

“Lady Tyrell.”

Queen Alicent folded her hands in front of herself as she looked you over. She looked much the same as you had seen her last, donning a modest grown of rich green, with long sleeves and a high collar. However, the large seven-pointed star hanging from her neck was a new addition.

You locked your knees and held your chin up, refusing to be intimidated by her scrutinous eyes. Your knuckles on the goblet in your hand likely began to turn white from the force of your grip around it. Even now, despite the two of you being well alone, one thing was expected of you.

You kept your facial expression plain as you offered her a curtsy.

“Do not trouble yourself with all of that,” Queen Alicent insisted politely. “It is I who has come calling upon you. Please forgive the lateness of the hour.”

“I am a guest in your home, Your Grace. You are entitled to come and go as you please.”

Queen Alicent’s eyes fell upon your goblet, and then flickered over to the bottle on the table. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“I suppose you are entitled to that as well.”

Thankfully, Queen Alicent spared you the humiliation of having to pour her a cup of wine. Instead, she walked over to the nearby table and filled a spare goblet for herself. You watched with furrowed brows as she took a sip of the Dornish red. Even as Queen Alicent’s stiff shoulders slumped and she exhaled a small contented sigh, you remained on edge.

“Is there something in particular that you wished to speak with me about, Your Grace?” you prompted her, quickly losing your patience. “I know it has been years since we last spoke, but I do not recall seeing you in the courtyard this morning to welcome me and my escort when we arrived. Surely any conversation you wish to have with me can wait ‘til the morrow, can it not?”

You expected Queen Alicent to capitalize on your momentary lapse of judgment and make you pay for your thinly veiled rudeness, but to your surprise, she did not. Instead, she smiled. But the gesture was not one of joy-it looked to be more of desperation and tiredness than anything else.

Queen Alicent looked to the balcony, and then back at you questioningly. “Shall we?”

The two of you, goblets in hand, wandered out of the room and out underneath the night sky. You placed your goblet upon the flat top of the barrier and rested your now open palms against it. The stone felt pleasantly warm, and it was very soothing.

You snuck a glance over at Queen Alicent. Unlike you, she looked ill at ease. One hand clutched the goblet, which never strayed far from her lips. Her other arm wrapped around herself. She did not notice your stare, for she looked out into the capital city with a foggy expression as if lost in some daze.

“What were you thinking about out here, before I came calling?”

“My daughter,” you answered truthfully. It was silent for a beat, as Queen Alicent waited for you to elaborate. “This will be the first time I have been apart from her for more than a few days’ time.”

Queen Alicent hummed understandingly, and took another sip of wine. “I can sympathize with you. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about my Daeron, all the way in Oldtown.”

Prince Daeron. He was only a few weeks older than Prince Lucerys and Selwin, and yet, the boy had been in Oldtown for the majority of his life. He was the squire and cup bearer for the Queen’s cousin, Lord Ormund Hightower.

You couldn’t help the twinge of sympathy that came over you. The thought of sending any of your other children away, even to extended family, was a troubling one. To go months, years, without seeing them? Unfathomable.

You did not doubt the sincerity of Queen Alicent’s words, nor the pain she must have felt. But you also couldn’t help but wonder whose decision it was to send the young princeling away in the first place.

Before you were forced to think of what to say in response to the Queen’s somber musing, she spared you.

“What brings you King’s Landing, Lady Y/N? Business, or pleasure?”

“An envious brother means to call into question the legitimacy of Princess Rhaenyra’s son. I would imagine that should be the business of all the realm’s loyal subjects, if not at least of their concern.”

Queen Alicent smirked. Once again, it was joyless. “We are alone, Y/N. You need not keep up this facade with me. Let us speak plainly with one another that is the truth that we both know.”

Her words were an invitation to come to the table and negotiate. By her sudden lack of pretenses, you might have been swayed to believe Queen Alicent had genuine intentions. But your guard was still raised. Without a doubt, you had just begun to wander into very dangerous territory.

“And what is this truth you speak of, Your Grace?”

Queen Alicent tore her eyes away from the view. As her eyes raked over you once more, you willed yourself to remain still and unwavering. All of the sudden, her expression softened.

“Oh… You don’t believe it yourself, do you? … You don’t. I can see it in your eyes.”

You did not believe it, for there was nothing to believe. Harwin was not the father of Lucerys, or Jacaerys, or even Joffrey.

Queen Alicent breathed despondently into her goblet. “You poor, poor fool.”

But you would swallow your pride and allow Queen Alicent and countless others to believe what they might, as you always had. As you always would. It was better for them to think Harwin was the princes’ father then for anyone else to discover the real truth.

Still, you would not subject yourself to outright slander.

“Does defending the honor of my husband make me a fool? I fail to see how it could, as I know he would do the same for me, as he has always done.”

“Your loyalty to your husband and Princess Rhaenyra is admirable,” Queen Alicent praised genuinely. “I can only hope that your former mistress will never use it against you.”

“You think far too little of Princess Rhaenyra if you think her likely to turn on a faithful ally just for her own gain, Your Grace.”

“And perhaps you think of her far too kindly. Loyalties are fine and well, as long as they are only the means by which you protect yourself and those you care about. When loyalties become one’s only purpose for being, you will be lost to the bigger cause. Your loved ones will soon be as good as dust, if they weren't already.”

The passionate way in which Queen Alicent spoke made you hesitate. Was there some truth hidden behind those misguided words? … Surely there was more to all of this madness than mere self-preservation?

“Tell me, Lady Y/N, just how long have you been blinded beyond all reason?”

Your brief moment of introspection fizzled. “What is it that you believe I refuse to see? Ser Laenor Velaryon was Prince Lucerys’ father.”

She sighed tiredly, waving away your comment with a dismissive hand. “Yes, yes. That is what we have all been told.”

“Vaemond Velaryon’s petition to upheave the succession of Driftmark is nothing but a vindictive plot. He seeks to capture power that is not and never has been his to possess.”

“And yet, the small council has deemed Ser Vaemond’s claim credible enough to warrant a hearing on the petition, Lady Y/N.”

“Which is nothing but an insult to Princess Rhaenyra’s honor and to the memory of her late husband. Is this truly what you felt was necessary to discuss with me at such a late hour? Do you revel in trying to disparage my image of my husband and Princess Rhaenyra? You may be the Queen, but you cannot command my own thoughts and opinions of those I hold dearest to me.”

Queen Alicent was silent for a few moments. When she spoke, her voice was soft, terribly so. “I used to envy you. Did you know that?”

You blinked, taken aback. The anger within you that had begun to boil quickly died down at the Queen’s sudden confession. “Why?”

“Girls like we once were, young women born to noble houses… Seldom do we ever find ourselves able to love the man our family weds us off to.”

You took a sip of your wine as you mentally braced yourself for the Queen’s next words.

“But love found you first,” Queen Alicent recalled, looking away from you and back towards the city. “And only after that did your father deem the man who had captured your affections to be worthy of your hand. I was not the only girl who envied your circumstances, I can promise you that.”

You acquiesced, “I was most fortunate in that regard, Your Grace.”

“I must admit that in the past, I have taken some small satisfaction from the fact that the seemingly perfect love between you and Ser Harwin might not have been so perfect after all.”

Patience, you reminded yourself.. Let her think what she will.

“But I do not indulge in satisfaction at others' expenses… not anymore,” Queen Alicent denounced. “Now, I only carry my own worries.”

“Is that what you’ve come to discuss then, your worries?”

“Yes.”

Her tone was so resolute, it gave you a moment’s pause.

“Perhaps our marriages are not what we once hoped they might be,” Queen Alicent conceded.

“But I would do anything to protect my children and grandchildren.” A redeeming quality of hers, you had to admit.

She continued, “You have been in the Red Keep for just a day, although I am sure you have heard about King Vierys’s delicate health.”

And how your maesters are eager to supply him with milk of the poppy. “... Among other things, Your Grace.”

“A day may soon come where many of us will be forced to make a choice. I cannot say what my own decision may be, but I do know that I will choose the path that I feel endangers my own the least.”

You had not expected to hear such words from the Queen. You had always suspected the motivations of Queen Alicent and the rest of her faction she had crafted from her allies at Court to be far simpler in nature. Perhaps for some of them, namely, the Lord Hand Otto, they still were. Besmirching the name of Princess Rhaenya was the easiest way to discredit her in the eyes of all who still upheld the oaths they made to her father to support her as his heir. But with Princess Rhaenyra shamed into surrendering her inheritance, the path would be clear for Prince Aegon to take the throne, which is what you had suspected Queen Alicent had truly wanted all along.

But perhaps Queen Alicent’s motivations came from another place. When the fateful day came that King Viserys passed, and Princess Rhaenyra would rise to take her rightful place as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, you would support her in whatever way you could. But even you had never anticipated such a feat to be achieved without a bit of a struggle. With even just a little bit of the gods’ favor, that struggle would not come to war. But when any Targaryen ascended the throne amongst contention, how could fire not be the result?

Perhaps Queen Alicent had only ever wanted to keep her kin away from the flames.

“I will always strive to protect my own children as well, Your Grace.”

“Your youngest- how old is she?”

“Her third name day is in a few months.”

“Does she not deserve to grow in a land that knows nothing but peace?”

No such land existed anywhere. Where there were people, there would be power. And the supply of ambitious individuals who wished to grasp that power would be limitless. No sense in denying that, but that didn’t mean there was no opportunity for it to be molded to fit your own desires. You desired change for the world that had compelled your father to bring you to King’s Landing to be Princess Rhaenyra’s lady in waiting, all the while having a secondary motive of hoping you’d secure a worthy suitor. You desired change for the world that had compelled Queen Alicent to submit herself as a pawn in her father’s unrelenting ambition, and that which had forced her to marry the father of who was once her closest confidant.

“I would have my daughter grow up in a realm where she is valued just as highly as her brothers, Your Grace. I would have her seen as an equal in the eyes of those beyond my husband and myself,” you countered firmly. “I would have my daughter come of age in a kingdom ruled by a Queen, in the hopes that such a kingdom might treat her more kindly than her mother and forebears.”

Queen Alicent laughed humorlessly. “Mayhaps your ambitions are loftier than my own, My Lady.”

The conversation fell to nothing, as the mutual feeling of having reached an impasse settled between you.

“No such world will ever existed,” Queen Alicent declared darkly, finishing off her wine. “The sooner we accept it and stop trying to fight it, the better we will all be.”

When Harwin and the rest of your family arrived, he was relieved when Lord Rosby informed him that a message from a raven was already waiting for him.

But it was not until he was alone in the chambers Lord Rosby had graciously provided to him that Harwin had a spare moment to read your message.

…

You were fine. You were armed with the dagger he had gifted you. You and the escort had made it to the Red Keep without any issue. You had a moment to speak with Princess Rhaenyra, and even had the opportunity to share supper with her family. You were looking forward to the opportunity to spend more time with them over the coming days, which is all it would be until Vaemond Velaryon’s petition would be heard by Queen Alicent and the Lord Hand. With the gods’ blessing, Prince Lucerys would be reconfirmed as heir to the Driftmark throne. You would be able to rejoin Harwin and your children, and then you could all set sail for Dragonstone.

All was well.

….

So why in the Seven Hells was Harwin so worried?

His concern had been eating away at him for the past two days. Though he had suspected Derrik and Selwin of seeing past the brave face he put on, Harwin did not doubt they would soon come to see the cracks that threatened his calm composure. At least Luciya was too young to sense something was amiss with him, but as she slowly began to realize you were no longer traveling with the group, she would soon become upset of her own accord.

Silently watching you and the escort ride into the city and out of Harwin’s sight had been one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. But for many reasons, he had allowed it to happen.

Harwin was able to take some comfort in the fact that you would seldom be alone. The escorts, along with the fact that you were essentially a guest of Princess Rhaenyra’s, reassured him some. But most of all, he was glad that the Master of Whisperers was none other than his brother.

With Larys keeping an eye and ear to the ground of not only the Red Keep, but the entire realm, what could possibly befall you? Harwin did not doubt his brother’s will to keep you safe from those who would mean to harm you, so long as it was within Larys’s means to do so.

The fire in the chambers Lord Rosby had generously had prepared for the two of you had begun to simmer. Harwin had no intention of stoking it back to life.

As he thumbed the firefly pin in his palm pensively, the dying light still provided a faint enough glow for the gem affixed to it to gleam. His mind wandered…

A firefly.

They were bountiful in the Riverlands. He could still recall fond memories from his childhood when he, Larys, Lilyan, and Eyla would spend hours at night trying to catch as many of them as they could. It’d been a pastime he was all too eager to share with Derrik and Selwin the short time your family had called Harrenhal home.

Fireflies were a bit scarcer in the Reach, where the lands were dryer. But there’d been several occasions where Harwin swore he saw some faint twinkles in the distance, right near the Mander.

A firefly.

Such an odd choice for a personal sigil.

Whoever’s sigil this was, Harwin was willing to bet all his titles, holdings, and wealth that the individual knew exactly what had caused the fire in Harrenhal that fateful night.

Harwin could not recall seeing many fireflies whilst he lived in King’s Landing. But most of his nights there had been spent patrolling the streets in the heart of the city, so that did not mean much at all.

A firefly…

Was it possible that the individual who had chosen this sigil lived in King’s Landing? At least for a time? If said individual had orchestrated the fire at Harrenhal, as Harwin had always highly suspected, that would only make sense. If Harwin, his father, you, and your sons had truly been targeted that night, the person behind the plot would have actually had to know who you all were. They had to have known your doings. They would have had to have a motive, whether it was based on truth, or on false rumors.

Whoever it was, were they still in King’s Landing? Did they reside in the Red Keep? Would you pass them in the halls, completely unaware that they had once attempted to claim your life, that they were successful in claiming the life of Harwin’s father?

…

Gods help him, Harwin was not going to be able to sleep until you were with him once more.

It was a week before your Good Brother came to see you.

In the days that followed, it felt as though the Red Keep was at a standstill. The upcoming arrival of Ser Vaemond Verlaryon and his petition to be declared Lord Coryls’s successor, should the Sea Snake succumb to his injuries, was all anyone seemed to be able to whisper about. Once he finally arrived, you thought the walls of the Red Keep might have rumbled with all the excitement that ensued.

But you had other things weighing on your mind. The unusual conversation you had with Queen Alicent the night of your arrival left you feeling uneasy, and you spoke of it to no one. Despite the passing of a few days, you were unsure what to make of it. Your mind replayed almost every word she’d said as you tried to discern her motives. Were her words a warning? Were they some sort of offering of peace?

Only time would tell.

Vaemond Velaryon’s petition was to be heard on the morrow. But for today, as you had the majority of the past several, you busied yourself by spending your time with Princess Rhaenyra and her children. Once more, you had joined Princess Rhaenyra underneath a canopy in the gardens. But this time, you were not alone.

All of her children, including one of her stepdaughters, Lady Rhaena, were present, with the exception of Prince Jacaerys, who had cited the wish to study Valyrian as his excuse for his absence. Prince Daemon was also notably absent, and you could only hope he did not intend to poke the bear that was the tension amongst the Red Keep by making good on his threat to Ser Criston Cole. Lady Baela was undoubtedly with her grandmother, the Princess Rhaenys.

Despite the absences, the gathering in the gardens felt like a warm one, with all of the participants present seemingly finding genuine happiness in merely spending time with one another. It made you all the more aware of how much you had begun to miss your own family.

As you had believed, you scarcely recognized Prince Joffrey when Princess Rhaenyra had reintroduced you to him a few days before. But the third of Princess Rhaenyra’s sons was quite the charmer, and offered you a kind greeting nonetheless, citing the many times Princess Rhaenyra spoke fondly of you, Harwin, and your sons.

Prince Aegon the Younger and Prince Viserys were also joys. Despite the wariness you held about their father, you had little doubt they would grow to be good men under the guidance of their mother.

Princess Rhaenyra sat on a bench with an arm around Aegon, who had decided to seize the opportunity for a mid afternoon nap, and was slumped up against her. Meanwhile, you entertained Prince Viserys, who seemed to be in the age where anything he could get his hands on absolutely fascinated him.

As you allowed Prince Viserys to fumble with your golden rose hair pin, your attention drifted across the canopy, where Prince Lucerys and Lady Rhaena sat at a table reading. Every now and then, Prince Lucerys’s eyes would rise from the page before him, and wander aimlessly. You had noticed how the impending petition from Ser Vaemond had troubled him. With said petition being heard on the morrow, Prince Lucerys appeared to grow uncomfortable with each passing moment.

Princess Rhaenyra suddenly stretching from her seat with a small frown stole your attention right back to the present.

“Are you well, Princess?”

Princess Rhaenyra waved you off lightly, before running a soothing hand over Prince Aegon’s hair. “‘Tis nothing.”

You took her word for it, and dropped the subject. It would not do to cause a scene in front of the children, even if you were concerned.

Princess Rhaenyra immediately noted your slight dejection, and offered you a new subject to discuss instead. “I would not dare get my hopes up, but, from the way I am carrying, the maesters believe this child to be a girl.”

The thought of that made you smile. “Daughters are a blessing of their own, to be sure.”

You pitied all suitors who might try to win the hand of a young princess who had protectors of no less than five older brothers and her father, the Rogue Prince. But you still wished Princess Rhaenyra’s words to be true. You did not doubt that she loved her sons, but Princess Rhaenyra’s secret wish for a daughter was a poorly kept one at best.

“I have been most impatient to meet your daughter, Y/N,” Princess Rhaenyra said pointedly. “How old is she?”

“Her third name day is in a few months.”

“Ah,” Princess Rhaenyra remarked in a knowing tone. “So close in age to Aegon.”

You opted to politely ignore her less than subtle suggestion. You assured her, “I have told Luciya many tales about you, Your Grace. I am certain she will be just as thrilled to meet you.” Your eyes flickered once more over to Prince Lucerys, who had abandoned his reading to listen in on your conversation with his mother. “As I know Harwin and my sons are looking forward to seeing the Princes again.”

Prince Lucerys offered up a slight smile, which you considered to be a small victory.

“Prince Lucerys,” you directed then, smiling as well, “Perhaps you might be able to attest as to why my son Selwin spends more time writing to you than he does on his own studies? I asked him once what it was that he was writing to you about, and he informed me plainly that it was a subject best kept between the two of you and your elder brothers. Something about a mishap with a morningstar…?”

Princes Lucerys’s smile widened as he was reminded of something known only by himself and the aforementioned parties. At this, Lady Rhaena abandoned her own reading to look at him curiously, but kindly.

Princess Rhaenyra rolled her eyes fondly. Like you, she had given up on the temptation to learn of every little matter her sons got up to in their spare time.

“Pardon my interruption, Your Grace.”

Everyone’s attention turned to the tent’s entrance, where Master of Whisperers Larys Strong stood. Like Ser Criston, it appeared that time had changed very little of him physically. Unlike Ser Criston, you supposed that must have been a good thing.

“Lord Larys,” Princess Rhaenyra greeted him cordially. “It is good to see you. Would you care to join us?”

“As much as I appreciate your generous offer, Princess, I am afraid I must decline. I was hoping to have a word with my Good Sister, should she be spared for a moment?”

“Certainly, My Lord,” you agreed politely.

You rose to your feet, taking Prince Viserys with you. Once you returned him into Princess Rhaenyra’s awaiting arms, you followed your Good Brother from out underneath the canopy.

“I would offer to escort you on a stroll as we speak, but I fear that experience would not be very enjoyable for you,” Lord Larys told you sheepishly. He gripped the pommel of his gane tightly for emphasis.

“‘Tis no matter; I would not inconvenience you in such a way, Good Brother. The gods look like they’ve been kind to you. How do you fare?”

“The same could be said for you, My Lady. Rest assured, I have been well. Although, the duties of my new station require much time and effort from me. I hope you can forgive me for not calling upon you sooner.”

“There is nothing to forgive. Your brother and I are proud of your rise, as I am sure your lord father would be as well.”

At the mention of the late Lord Lyonel, Larys’s smile slipped for the briefest of moments. The pain of his loss must still weigh upon him, as it did to Harwin, you reasoned.

“The small council is to meet shortly,” Larys informed you then. “So I must be on my way. However, would you care to join me for supper in two days time? I am most curious about the wellbeing of the family, and I was hoping you could indulge me.”

“But of course, My Lord,” you agreed readily. “They are just as much your kin as they are mine. I would be happy to share a meal and answer any questions that you may have.”

Larys grinned. “Splendid. I shall have it arranged, and will send for you.”

“I look forward to it, Good Brother.”

You only hoped you would have cause to celebrate by then.

The following morning, every noble present within the Red Keep reported to the Great Hall in a timely manner. Not a single member of the Court dared to miss the rare phenomenon that was a petition requesting to entirely redirect the succession of a noble house.

As all the attending parties filed into the open room, two sides were silently amassed. Though there were a few outliers, it became apparent relatively quickly that a line had been wordlessly drawn.

On one side, you stood behind Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Lucerys, Prince Daemon, and the rest of her family. Known supporters and long time allies of the Princess filed in and surrounded you. You recognized many of them and made small talk whilst you waited for the proceedings to commence.

On the opposite side of the Great Hall, the Greens and their supporters grouped together. You recognized some of the faces towards the back of the room, but recognized more lingering towards the front.

There was the unmistakable mirror of his brother, Ser Tyland Lannister, now Master of Ships.

Besides him were his great nieces, Lady Joanna Lannister and Lady Celesse Redwyne. Despite never having been formally introduced, you had needed no one to point out to you who they were. You told them as much a few days before, when you happened across them in a corridor by chance. Fortunately, the girls took after their mothers in appearance. Unfortunately, though they seemed courteous enough and were nothing less than kind to you, their fathers’ deeds made you wary. You had ended the conversation with a request that Lady Celesse give your best to her mother and grandmother on your behalf. You made no mention of her father, Lord Garrett Redwyne.

Your Good Brother Lord Larys stood in the middle of the crowd, near Ser Tyland and a few other members of the small council. You were surprised to find him on the opposite side of the room from you… But, on the other hand, his position as Master of Whisperers must have been a delicate one to balance. There would be little doubt that he would be removed from his post and replaced if the Lord Hand suspected Larys’s interest did not align with those he had for his own family, namely, his grandson Prince Aegon the Elder.

At the front of the room was Queen Alicent, flocked by her children. They were all poised, but some of them looked to be more present than others. Princess Helaena seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. The bored look on Prince Aegon’s face indicated he would rather be anywhere else at that moment. On the other hand, Queen Alicent looked about the room, offering tight lipped smiles and cordial nods to anyone whom she made eye contact with. Like his mother, Prince Aemond seemed attentive as well. His one eye that was unburdened with an eyepatch flitted about the room, surveying it and the people within it meticulously.

Ser Criston lingered behind the lot of them. … Was it just your imagination, or was he sneaking particularly prolonged glances at the Queen? Curious.

The Hand, Lord Otto Hightower, stood before the Iron Throne in King Viserys’s absence. Like Ser Criston and Lord Larys, time had treated him with gentle hands.

“Lady Tyrell, is that you?”

You turned around towards the voice that called out from behind. When your eyes fell upon the source, you genuinely smiled. “Lord Lyman.”

For all the lords of the Reach who had been opposed to your ascension to the Tyrell family seat, Lord Lyman Beesbury had never been one of them. As he finished making his way up through the crowd, you shuffled over to make room so that he could stand beside you.

“You look well, Lord Beesbury.”

“You flatter me, my dear. I turned six and seventy earlier this year, did you know?”

“Forgive my failed memory, My Lord. If it is any consolation, you do not look it.”

Lord Lyman gasped. “My goodness, Lady Y/N. You have a dark sense of humor, I shall grant you that. I suppose the gods would prefer it if I ‘book it’, wouldn’t they?”

Time had granted you leave to forget how hard of hearing Lord Lyman truly was. Louder and more clearly, you corrected, “No, My Lord. You do not look to be six and seventy. Look.”

“’Crook’?” Lord Lyman inquired bewilderedly. He looked about the room with a disapproving look upon his face. “... Yes, I am inclined to agree. These are the proceedings of a ‘crook’.”

In front of you, you could have sworn you heard Prince Jacaerys snicker as though he had overheard your conversation. But there was no doubt Prince Daemon had overheard, and found the conversation rather amusing- his shoulders bobbing with his silent laughter gave him away.

“Speaking of crooks, My Lady,” Lord Lyman continued without missing a beat, “I wish to discuss with you some of the taxes that have been imposed on House Beesbury’s honey exports as of late…”

You were grateful when the entrance of Princess Rhaenys inspired hushed whispers from those around you, effectively giving you an excuse to pause the conversation with Lord Lyman. Lady Baela was not far behind her grandmother.

When Ser Vaemond Velaryon finally entered the room, all eyes fell upon him.

Once everyone had settled in, the Lord Hand wasted no time in beginning the proceedings. “Though it is the great hope of this Court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survives his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As Hand, I speak with the King’s voice on this and all other matters.”

As Lord Otto sat upon the Iron Throne, the hushed whispers amongst the crowd ceased.

“The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon?”

Ser Vaemond stepped forward, and began to plead his case.

You tried to listen to what were most assuredly impassioned words, but your mind refused to focus on anything else than the annoyance brewing within you. When had Ser Vaemond grown so bold? You would not have been surprised if Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys had also questioned the legitimacy of Princess Rhaenyra’s eldest sons. But the Sea Snake had never dared to defend the boys as though they were his own kin- which they were. In name.

Ser Vaemond had needlessly casted doubt upon Prince Lucerys’s parentage, and in turn, that of Prince Jacaerys and Prince Joffrey. He had endangered the lives of the Princess, her sons, and by extension, your husband Harwin, all for the sake of his own greed and ambition.

And you despised him for it.

As Ser Vaemond continued to speak, you grew more aware of the eyes of other members of the Court glancing at you. Queen Alicent’s words from the previous week echoed in your ears. You poor, poor fool. A good amount of your peers probably shared her sentiments. How could they not? The wife of a man who was suspected to father three of the Princess’s sons, offering silent support of their legitimacy? What a folly that would be… if it were true.

Once more, you found yourself being scrutinized by the Court who did not, and would never, know the whole truth.

Your hatred for Ser Vaemond burned stronger.

“... I am Lord Corlys’s closest kin, his own blood. The true unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins-”

“As it does in my son, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon,” Princess Rhaenyra interjected tiredly. “If you cared so much about your House’s blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition-”

“You will have the chance to make your petition, Princess Rhaenyra,” Queen Alicent reminded her tactfully. “Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.”

You weren’t sure what spiked your own irritation more- the fact that the Queen had publicly chided Princess Rhaenyra, or the smug look that Ser Vaemond gave her in response.

“What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess?” he posed to her. “I could cut my veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn’t recognize it. This is about the future and survival of my House, not yours.”

You had to admit, Ser Vaemond had the damndest way of dancing around something rather than saying it outright.

As Ser Vaemond continued, you looked about the Great Hall again. Many of those present were solely focused on Ser Vaemond, but for others, their attention drifted to Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Lucerys, and sometimes, even to you.

You found yourself suddenly wishing that Harwin was here. Would those around you be so bold with their judgemental glances if he was by your side? Perhaps, but you knew Hariwn would not have stood for it. One hard look from him and they’d likely find the floor beneath their feet far more interesting.

But you knew Harwin’s presence would have only made this moment worse for everyone involved. And you doubted your ability to restrain Harwin from laying his hands on Ser Vaemond if he had the gull to make any more direct implications about Prince Lucerys’s lack of Velaryon blood, and Harwin’s supposed role in it.

“... I humbly put myself before you as my brother’s successor, the Lord of Driftmark, the Lord of the Tides.”

Lord Otto looked impressed. “Thank you, Ser Vaemond.”

Whispered reactions to Ser Vaemond’s speech filled the silence that followed. Thankfully, Lord Beesbury seemed not to hear them, for he did not comment upon them or otherwise contribute.

“Princess Rhaenyra,” the Lord Hand said then, “You may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon.”

Princess Rhaenyra stepped forward. As she looked around before beginning her address, you could tell her jaw was clenched tightly. It must have taken a great deal of strength to mind her tongue throughout the rest of Ser Vaemond’s self-righteous speech.

“If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start that reminding the Court that nearly twenty years ago, in this very room-”

A loud rumbling echoed throughout the room, halting the Princess in mid speech and commanding the attention of all those within the Great Hall. Everyone’s heads turned to see the grand doors being opened by the guards who were standing post there.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A repetitious sound reverberated throughout the room next, but your attention was drawn to two members of the Kingsguard suddenly came into view. As they stepped forward under the entryway, one of them began his proclamation.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

That was when you laid eyes upon the King for the first time in almost seven years.

A small, hunched figure hobbled into the room. Beyond his physically feeble appearance, it was apparent by the shock silently felt throughout the room that the presence of the King was both unexpected and unprecedented.

Lord Otto rose from his seat upon the Iron Throne, and began to descend the stairs. All others in the room, including yourself, bowed respectfully as King Viserys fought to reclaim what was rightfully his.

Though King Viserys trudged slowly across the Great Hall, he was no less dignified for it. The King still commanded the attention and respect of everyone else in the room. He gripped his cane like a warrior gripped the handle of his blade. A golden mask upon his face covered what you could only assume to be maladies too great for the common eyes to bear witness to.

You thought back to your initial conversion with Princess Rhaenyra, when she confided just how ill the King was. There was no denying that King Viserys was not well, and he was indisputably past his prime. But there was a small comfort in the fact that the King Viserys before you could not possibly have consumed milk of the poppy as of late. Such a decision clearly caused him a great deal of pain, and yet, he had made it anyway. Perhaps he knew that doing so would be the only way he could defend his daughter and grandson.

You could no longer bring yourself to watch the King, despite the awe you felt. You could not bring yourself to look at Princess Rhaenyra either though, as an overwhelmingly emotional look washed over her face and threatened to leave you feeling similarly.

The room was still hushed over from the spectacle, so when King Viserys spoke to the Lord Hand, his words were as clear as a bell.

“I will sit the throne today.”

You bowed your head deeper to hide the smile that toyed upon your lips.

A sudden clangering compelled you to look up. The crown of the Old King had fallen from King Viserys’s head. You watched with bated breath to see if anyone would dare to go against the King’s adamant refusal for assistance.

To your complete shock, Prince Daemon stepped forward. No one dared to intervene between the Targaryen brothers as the younger assisted the elder up the remainder of the stairs. Once King Viserys was seated, Prince Daemon replaced the crown upon his head with great respect and reverence, before he retreated and to resume his place beside Prince Jacaerys once more.

Whether Prince Daemon’s display was genuine or a show for the audience present, you could not say. But you did know that it garnered a response from you. Perhaps you had been too quick to judge the Rogue Prince. Could such a violent and unpredictable man also be capable of genuine tenderness with those dearest to him? Was this the Prince Daemon that Princess Rhaenyra became besotted with?

Perhaps there was more to Prince Daemon than the majority of Westeros would ever get to see.

Maybe.

Now seated in his rightful place upon the Iron Throne, King Viserys took a few deep breaths to recover from his exertions. As he did so, he looked about the room thoroughly, making eye contact with each and every individual present.

“I must admit my confusion,” King Viserys confessed. “I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession.”

You silently thanked the gods for King Viserys’s staunch support of Prince Rhaenyra and her children. While he protected his own kin, he unwittingly protected Harwin and your own children.

You realized after a moment that the King was looking at you, and you went still. He said nothing, and he held your gaze for no longer than a moment, but it was enough for you to discern that he recalled who you were, and he most likely knew why you were here. You relaxed.

Perhaps King Viserys knew the inadvertent favor he was doing for you and your family after all.

“The only one present who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys’s wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.”

Like everyone else, you turned to look at the woman in question.

Princess Rhaenys did not bat an eye. “Indeed, Your Grace.”

Princess Rhaenyrs stepped forward. When she did so, both she and Princess Rhaenyra’s sons were in your line of sight. The dark hair of the King’s cousin did not appear so different to the hair of Prince Jacaerys or Prince Lucerys. The visual reaffirmation both angered you and made you feel ill. How had the rumors about the Princes’ parentage taken on such monstrous lives of their own? Did no one, save King Viserys, want to believe that Princess Rhaenyra’s eldest sons were Ser Laenor’s?

Your focus returned to Queen Alicent. She was staring at Princess Rhaenys with dread, as if the elder woman was about to deliver a blow that would devastate her entire cause.

How could Queen Alicent preach to you about avoiding war for the sake of your own children, when she and her supporters had sentenced Princess Rhaenyra’s children to a certain death from the very days they were born? If she had not been responsible for the rumors of their dubious parentage, Queen Alicent had done little to quash them. She endangered the lives of three young boys in the name of a vendetta she had with their mother, and did so under the guise of piousness. She presented an image of love and forgiveness to the masses, and heartlessly condemned the defenseless out of the public’s eyes.

Princess Rhaenys folded her hands. Would she speak for or against Prince Lucerys as her Lord Husband’s successor? Princess Rhaenyra had not said much of Princess Rhaenys over the past few days, which had led you to suspect that the younger princess could not full heartedly count on the support of the elder.

Princess Rhaenys was not blind; you were certain she knew that Prince Lucerys was not of her own blood, other than what little they shared through Princess Rhaenyra. But did she truly wish for Ser Vaemond to inherit the legacy Lord Corlys had built throughout his life? What of her granddaughters? With the Sea Snake gone, would the beloved daughters of Lady Laena be at the mercy of their great uncle’s whims after Princess Rhaenys’s own passing?

“It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son, Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed, nor did my support of him.”

You silently exhaled a sigh of relief.

“As a matter of fact,” Princess Rhaenys continued, “the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys’s granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena… A proposal to which I heartily agree.”

That was an arrangement you did not know if. But, judging by the way Princess Rhaenyra reassuringly grabbed Prince Lucerys’s hand, it did not come as a surprise to her. She must have proposed it to Princess Rhaenys, or they had at least spoken of it prior. You had to give credit where credit was due- given the circumstances, those were politically smart matches for all four involved.

And terribly convenient, since they all were quite close.

“Well,” King Vierys said, his voice breaking through the audience’s whispers that had begun to echo throughout the Great Hall, “The matter is settled… again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.”

The room began to process the King’s declaration, and you let out an unstifled releaved sigh. Once more, disaster had been avoided. Maybe the rumors of the Princes’ legitimacy would finally cease, especially in light of King Viserys’s impressive showing of support. But you would not allow yourself to hope. Not yet.

You would never truly feel safe and reassured until Princess Rhaenyra sat the Iron Throne as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

“Thank the Seven Heavens,” Lord Lyman mumbled beside you.

Just as you were about to agree, Ser Vaemond, clearly unwilling to accept his defeat, stepped out of the crowd and before the Iron Throne once again. He would make himself heard.

To the King, he said, “You break law and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon?... No. I will not allow it.”

King Viserys’s crossness at the accusation was visible from leagues away. His next words were spoken slowly, each one of them laced with threat. “‘Allow it’? Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

You and most everyone in your vicinity flinched as Ser Vaemond abandoned courteous discussion for uncivilized shouting.

“That,” he roared, pointing a stiff finger at Prince Lucerys, “Is no true Velaryon, and certainly, no true nephew of mine.”

You did not know if it was possible to despise Ser Vaemond more than you already did. But it was.

Princess Rhaenyra whispered directions to her second son before facing Ser Vaemond. “You have said enough.”

“Lucerys is my trueborn grandson,” King Viesrys reminded Ser Vaemond and everyone else present, “And you are no more than the second son of Driftmark.”

Ser Vaemond trembled with rage. “You may run your House as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the doom! And a thousand tribulations besides!” He whirled his head to snarl at Princess Rhaenyra and her family. “And gods be damned, I will not see it ended on the account of this-”

You froze.

Surely Ser Vaemond was not so daft as to make such an atrocious accusation before the whole Court? He was enraged, but would he truly allow his anger to consume him to the point where he felt compelled to publicly insult the King’s daughter and grandson, before the very man himself?

You hair rose on the back of your neck and you locked your knees. For a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

It was obvious the Rogue Prince was taking far too much joy in Ser Vaemond’s momentarily lapse in judgment. Prince Daemon goaded him darkly, “Say it.”

But Ser Vaemond did not look at Prince Daemon. Instead, he looked back at Princess Rhaenyra. By the pained smile that slowly formed on his lips, you fooled yourself for the briefest of moments into thinking that Ser Vaemond would swallow his wounded pride and leave while he still had legs with which to walk.

Unfortunately for everyone, that was not to be.

“Her children… are BASTARDS!”

You gasped, though you were not the only one.

But Ser Vaemond’s egregious display was not finished. He looked back to King Viserys, and with all the wisdom of a young child, had the nerve to look unashamed. “And she is a whore.”

More gasps filled the air around you, but you were compelled to do more than just react. Technically speaking, Ser Vaemond’s first outcry was rooted in truth. But the second one was not. And you would be dead before you subjected yourself to endure slander of Princess Rhaenyra from men who were not fit to cobble her shoes.

“You cur!”

Apparently, Lord Beesbury’s hearing had miraculously returned. And, even more fortunately, he was of the same mind as you. “You knave!”

King Viserys rose from the Iron Throne and unsheathed the dagger you had seldom seen him without. To Ser Vaemond, he pointed the dagger and declared, “I shall have your tongue for that!”

The diplomatic hearing had descended into disarray.

But it was Prince Daemon who plunged it into chaos.

A sickening wet swoosh was heard, and when you looked towards the direction it had come from, you saw Prince Daemon with Dark Sister in hand. In front of him was the now headless corpse of what had once been Ser Vaemond Velaryon.

The crowd around you scrambled backwards, but you and several others closeby had not been so lucky as to avoid the splatters of blood. Splotches of red littered the bottom of your dress, and the sight of them made you feel faint.

Ser Vaemond’s corpse fell to the ground, and Prince Daemon looked down at his victim with a disturbingly calm look. Amusedly, he proposed, “He can keep his tongue.”

“Disarm him!” the Lord Hand barked, resulting in the unsheathing of many swords.

The commotion in the Great Hall escalated further when King Viserys let out a groan before collapsing back onto the Iron Throne.

“Call the maesters!” Queen Alicent cried out to any and all who could hear her, as she and Princess Rhaenyra rushed to the King’s aid.

Movement on the floor nearby stole your attention from King Viserys’s sudden distress. A mass of silver braided locks rolled and rolled until it came to a slow stop a few paces away from your feet.

The lifeless eyes of Ser Vaemond Velaryon stared up at you. You threw a hand over your mouth to fight off the retch that rose up your throat.

A/N: Thank you for reading!🖤 Feel free to let me know what you think. I love hearing from you. Part 3 will be up on Friday.🖤 Larys you better watch what’s coming your way bud--

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