#New Dragon Inn
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xiaoshengnu · 8 months ago
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chen lijun + ju jingyi's performance of 游山恋
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kaipanzero · 6 months ago
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New Dragon Inn: Heroes Awakening
新龙门客栈之英雄觉醒 (2024)
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madamshogunassassin · 3 months ago
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NEW DRAGON GATE INN (dir. Raymond Lee) (1992)
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maggiecheungs · 8 months ago
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DRAGON GATE INN (1967) dir. King Hu NEW DRAGON GATE INN (1992) dir. Raymond Lee
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aurumcalendula · 10 months ago
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Flirting & Fighting | New Dragon Gate Inn
made for ultraviolet_catastrophe for Festivids 2023!
AO3 | DW
(password = AurumCalendulaVids)
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freecinemaa · 6 months ago
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Таверна дракона (New Dragon Gate Inn)(2024) Русский Free Cinema Aeternum
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littlebitinmyhead · 2 years ago
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The Green Dragon Inn, Hobbiton 🍺
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cinemajunkie70 · 2 years ago
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A very happy birthday to the legendary Tsui Hark!
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womantoday · 10 months ago
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Chen Lijun
handsome yueju越剧(yue opera) actress checks the audiences‘ tickets by herself before the performance
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frederic-mao · 6 months ago
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L' auberge du dragon (1992)
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polwarth · 8 months ago
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Ambiance at the green dragon inn
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sluttysnowangel666 · 3 months ago
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His Second Wife - cregan stark x reader (request)
summary: two years following the death of cregan’s first wife, he accepts an undesired marriage proposal to rhaenyra targaryen’s daughter. rhaenyra’s daughter, who had loved cregan the moment she first met him as a young girl, immediately loves and accepts cregan’s first child as her own. yet it is still not enough for cregan to find his own love for his new wife.
cw: mean cregan😓, widow!cregan, targ!reader, loss of virginity(reader), rhaenyra’s daughter, angst to fluff, unrequited love, sex, happy ending
do yall notice i always post a long ass story usually around midnight or later ( i’m unwell)also this is long af soz it was a detailed request and I wanted it to be to a T. this is SOO long. i prolly should have done two parts… oh well @lillithsalvatore hope you enjoy it love ❤️
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“How do you feel, my love?” Your mother asked, placing a warm and comforting hand on yours.
You sighed. “Nervous.”
She gave you that warm and sweet smile of hers. “I know. I hope you know this choice was not easy for me to make, as I know this was a hard task for me to place upon you.”
“I know, mother.” You say with forgiveness, giving her hand a squeeze.
“Had it been any other lord I would have surely declined but… Starks are the most honorable among men. I know your union will be blessed by the gods.”
You give her a smile, blindly trusting her words. You had met him once, and you knew he was kind. In fact, he had left a paw shaped imprint on your heart. You thought to yourself no union could be more suitable. You knew he had married once before out of a prior marital alliance, but the marriage had been short lived, lasting only a year before his first wife died in her birthing chambers.
It took more than four moons before you arrived at Winterfell, as if every power in the world was set on preventing it. You were not a superstitious person, so you simply thought all the bad things that happened prior to your marriage was coincidence.
Each time you went to leave, something prevented you. Your mother miscarried your baby sister, Lucerys was killed by Aemond, Daemon went silent at Harrenhall, Rhaena ran away and was lost in the eyrie before revealing she claimed Sheep-stealer.
You arrived in the dead of winter, and the journey had not been kind to you. You got a chill on the way up, causing you to stop at an inn for a few nights, you had came across raiders who killed one of the many men escorting you, and your clothes were ill suited for the weather.
You did eventually arrive at Winterfell thankfully, all in one piece.
You stepped out of the carriage cautiously, eyeing the snowy landscape surrounding you. It went as far as the eye could see. You held your hand out, letting the thick snowflakes fall and melt in your hand.
“My princess.” You turn to see Cregan, walking towards you. He bows, forcing a politeness. “Winterfell is yours.”
You bow in return, “No need for such formalities, Lord Stark. This is your home, and I am honored to have you welcome me here.”
He nods, choosing to say nothing else to you.
“Please show the princess to her chambers.” He says to one of the servants, then immediately turning on his heels to leave. Your jaw falls slightly, surprised at his curt demeanor.
You compose yourself, trying to hide the slight hurt in your features before making your way to your private chambers.
You bathed immediately, welcoming the hot water against your skin. No water could be hot enough for your dragon blood, but what they had drawn up for you would do nicely.
Your wedding was a week after your arrival, the lord having given you time to settle in. You had not seen him much during that week so you chose not to bother him, assuming he was busy with duties.
When you walked down that snowy path to the red weirwood, Cregan stole a glance at you. You looked beautiful, and he felt horribly guilty for thinking it. He felt like what he was doing was betraying her.
You said your vows, swearing your love before the old gods. You smiled at Cregan and he gave you a forced one in return. Guilt wracked his whole body. He felt guilty for you, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give you a union where you were loved, he felt guilty for liking your smile, he felt guilty for forgetting hers.
There was a feast following the ceremony, nothing large due to the pains of winter, but it didn’t bother you. The small gathering felt intimate, compared to southern weddings where lords and ladies travelled from all over the realm to witness it.
It was here you met Cregan’s son, Rickon.
“Hi, little one.” You said. He was only two, a fat little babe who looked just like Cregan.
“Rickon, this is my new wife.” Cregan said. The way he worded it made you twitch, it had sounded so strained. He didn’t even use your name. You told the boy the name he could call you, but he said nothing as he hid behind his father’s leg.
“I apologize.” Cregan said, his voice showing no sign that he actually was sorry.
“It is alright, my lord. He is just a babe. He and I will have time to get to know each other.” You said. Cregan tensed up, suddenly remembering again this union was forever.
“Excuse me, princess.” He said, turning and walking away with Rickon. Your heart sunk a bit. You could start to sense it now, Cregan was not in the slightest invested in your union together. You felt lost, out of place suddenly.
You sat back down at the high table, overwhelmed with nervousness. You bit at your nails and the skin around them, biting until they bled. You missed your mother dearly. Being here, in this room among strangers who didn’t care much for southerners to begin with, made you feel small.
You had sat there for an hour or two, not moving or eating once, save for your cuticles.
Cregan came to you, not noticing your nervous state. If he had noticed, he chose to ignore it. “I’ve put Rickon down… Would you please accompany me to my chambers?”
You looked at him, the nail bed of your thumb resting between your teeth. You nodded, standing and staring at the hall one last time. You locked eyes with a man, who noticed you both about to take your leave.
“Is it time for the bedding ceremony, Lord Stark?” The man asked, erupting a few cheers from the men mostly.
“No!” Cregan nearly barked the order. “There will be no bedding ceremony.”
The men in the crowd shuffled awkwardly at his outburst but accepted.
“Princess.” Cregan said, walking away and not waiting to see if you were following.
You did anyway, struggling to keep up with his quick pace. You had the sense he wanted this to be over with quickly.
He held the door as you both entered his chambers. You took in your surroundings. It was a clean and large kept room with a lit hearth and a large bed. A thought passed your mind, even though you tried to push it down.
Did he share these chambers with her?
Cregan began to take off his armor and furs, again not watching to see if you did the same, only assuming you were. If you weren’t, he didn’t care.
“Um, could you help, my lord?” You asked, referring to the laces of your white wedding dress.
He sighed, walking over to you as you turned your back to him. Your eyes welled with tears, but you tried to hide it.
His hands were gentle with the laces, not tugging at them as you expected him to. He obviously had experience doing this before.
He grew emotional as he undid your dress, but he hid it well. It was a weird sense of deja vu. Your hair looked like hers from the back and he felt like he was back at his first wedding.
You pushed the dress off, revealing the sheer linen soft dress underneath. He hadn’t moved from behind you, trying to maintain his composure. You walked away from him, lying on the bed and biting your nails again.
He finished disrobing besides his briefs, and you stole a glance at his back. It was huge, muscular and scarred.
He walked over to the bed, getting between your legs and pushing up your shift.
“Is this alright with you, princess?” He asks. “We need not consummate this if you are not ready.”
For the first time it seemed like he kinda cared about how you felt. His hand still had a hold of your shift, which was resting on your pelvic bone.
You nodded, “Is it alright with you, Lord Stark?”
He nodded, pushing your shift up the rest of the way to reveal your chest. He wanted to fall on his sword for the way he kept stealing glances at your breasts.
He pushed his briefs down, and you choked on your breath at the reveal of his length.
“Oh, gods.” You mumbled under your breath.
He rubbed himself against your slit, and your heart stilled for a minute. The feeling was foreign and intense.
He gently grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth. You hadn’t even realized you were still doing it, it was starting to become like breathing. A natural, unintentional habit.
Your hands fell to his biceps to steady yourself. You looked at him, but he did not meet your gaze. He instead bowed his head, watching himself enter inside you.
You dug your nails into his arm, gasping in shock. He gently shushed you, telling you it was okay.
“Please, please.” You said, not knowing what you were even pleading for.
“What?” He asked gently, his voice low and almost mimicking of your whining. It sent a shiver up your spine.
He was slow and gentle with you, not in it for any pleasure himself.
You touched his chest and his hair and his arms, and while he didn’t stop you he made no effort to touch you himself. His hands rested beside your head, holding up his weight.
Your hands found his arms again and you moaned softly, feeling your peak building in your stomach. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his head, moaning as you spilled onto him. He closed his eyes as he felt it, and guilt wracked him again.
He gently pulled out of you and stood up, immediately dressing himself into his nightwear. You pushed your shift back down and pulled the linen covers over you, immediately going back to biting your nails at his reaction.
He laid beside you, not facing you and not saying anything.
You said nothing, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed how he intentionally avoided spilling himself into you.
———
It had been 3 months since your arrival to Winterfell, and you had adjusted as well as you could given the circumstances.
You did not often see your lord husband, but you were used to it. He spent a lot of his free time in the crypt where she was. It hurt, but you gave him his peace and he appreciated that you didn’t hover.
“Mummy!”
“Sh, sh, love.” You say as Rickon runs into your chambers.
Cregan did not like when Rickon called you his mother. He’d gotten upset with you a few times over it, and you assured him you would correct Rickon when it happened.
“Mummy.” He repeated. You giggled. pulling him into your lap. You shook your head and tapped his nose, saying, “Nooo. Not mummy.”
“Mummy.” He laughed, and you ran your fingers through his thick brown curls.
“What ever will we do with this mop on your head, my son?”
“He is not your son.” You turned to see Cregan standing in the door way. “And his hair is fine.”
“Apologies, my lord.” You said, curtly. He ignored your attitude.
“Come, Rickon.” He said, beckoning his son.
“No, mummy.” Rickon whined, holding you.
“Go see papa.” You told him, and with your blessing Rickon ran to Cregan.
Cregan gave you a cold stare as he left, and you returned the favor.
You were growing ever so agitated with your husband. He had welcomed you into Winterfell, but not his heart. The only time you both had shared a bed was the night of your wedding, to which Cregan had made sure not to give you an heir.
You had no one. Rickon had you, Cregan had you even if he did not want you, yet you were alone here in Winterfell.
You decided to write to your mother on Dragonstone, requesting for Jacaerys to pick you up on dragon back so you could visit your family and hopefully receive advice. You had left your dragon, Silverwing, at home. You did not want to disrespect the already hesitant northern people, and you did not want Silverwing to be cold or hungry.
That night when you were brushing your hair before bed, there was a knock on your door.
“Come in.” You looked in the mirror and saw Cregan’s half sister, Sara, enter.
“Hi, Sara.” You said. She came up behind you, taking the brush from your hand and slowly combing it through your hair. You two had formed a unique bond, given you were both considered outcasts in Winterfell. You were a southerner, she was a bastard. They were two sides of the same coin here in Winterfell.
“I heard what happened today.” She said, and you hummed mindlessly. “My brother can be a bastard.”
You smiled at her in the mirror. “Is that so?”
She nods. “I wish I knew what to do, Sara.”
“We northerners love hard, princess. We are unwaveringly loyal. The wound of losing Aly is still fresh in my brother’s heart. Give him time. He knows you love Rickon, and that scares him. I don’t know why.”
“Was Aly pretty?” You ask.
“You have a southern beauty we do not see often in the North. Aly was not a beautiful woman, but she was a fierce fighter. That is how history will remember her. She was born fighting, and she died fighting. I know you are a fierce fighter as well, princess. You are the blood of the dragon. Do not let the grief my brother holds make you feel small.” She kisses the back of your head. “Throw a fucking book at his head if he acts like that again.”
You laugh, her joke comforting you. She turns and leaves you alone, your head clouded with thoughts of Aly.
You heard back from Jacaerys within a few days that he would arrive shortly to bring you home. You had not yet told Cregan, as you knew he wouldn’t care anyway.
A few days following the letter from the raven, it was Sara’s name day. Cregan had decided to celebrate with a feast, one bigger than your wedding.
You all sat at the high table, your husband and sister in law drinking heavily. Although Cregan was a big man, the amount of ale he consumed that night seemed enough to kill a horse.
“My princess.” A servant rested her hand on your shoulder. You and Cregan both turned to look at her, and she grew nervous, not expecting Cregan to pay any attention or perhaps she would not have asked the princess the request. “Rickon has had a nightmare and wants no comfort of the maids. He is requesting you by name specifically, princess.”
You turn to look at Cregan for his approval. He gives a quick nod, which you hadn’t expected. Perhaps he only obliged since Rickon had requested you by your name, rather than requesting his “mother.”
You walked with the maid to his chambers, opening the door.
“Mummy.” He said through sniffles. You turned to face the maid.
“I thought he requested me by my name.” You said.
“That is your name, princess… to him.” The maid closed the door.
You turn to face Rickon with a gentle sigh. “You know papa doesn’t like that word.”
“Mummy.” He just says again. You walk to his bed, fitting yourself in to lay with him. He cuddles into your chest, and you play with his hair to help him sleep.
“Say it okay.” He says.
“Hm? What do you mean, child?” You ask.
“She say it okay to call you mummy.”
“Who?”
“Mummy did.”
“No, you have to call me my name, sweet boy.”
“Not you, mummy. My other mummy said it okay.”
“You confuse me, Rickon.”
“Mummy says ignore papa.” You chuckle softly.
“Sleep now, my love.” You say, and he slowly falls asleep while you hum him a soft song.
You rise, tucking him in and giving his head a kiss.
You open his door to return to the feast, and Cregan is there waiting.
You gasp, covering your mouth quickly to not wake Rickon.
“Gods, you scared me!” You whisper/yell at him. He says nothing, his eyes in a glossy and drunken haze.
You close the door, nearly standing chest to chest with him.
“I heard you sing to him.” He says softly. “Where did you learn that song?”
“He taught me it.” You say, as you go to step past him when he stops you.
“Cregan?” You say confused, turning to look up at him.
He takes your cheeks in your hands and slams his lips on yours. You freeze for a second in shock, before immediately returning the kiss. He presses you against the door, and you moan into him as you quickly grow wet with Cregan’s sudden change of behavior.
He moves to press gentle kisses on your neck, biting softly here and there. His fingers dig into your hips, grinding himself into you. You moan softly, trying not to cause too much noise against the door.
“Not here.” You moan. He avoids your eyes, taking your hand and pulling you further down the hall to his chambers. It was only your second time in his room. He lifted you into his strong arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing you against the wall.
You both hadn’t even undressed, but you loved the thrill. Your husband finally wanted you after three long grueling months. He pushed your dress up to your waist as you unlaced his breeches.
He took you there against the wall of his chambers, fucking you so sweetly, fucking you in a way that would surely produce an heir.
Your moans filled the halls, and the servants began to spread word that the lord had finally moved on from his first wife.
He carried you to the bed, placing you along the edge as he stood, fucking you with sloppy and drunken thrusts.
You moaned his name, both of you drawing so close to your peak as your hands rested against his stomach. He leaned closed to you as hand moved beside your head to hold his weight, and the other moved under your lower back to lift you slightly off the bed and pull you more into him. The angle sent you over the edge, crying and moaning his name.
Your moans pushed him over, but his next words made you sick.
“Fuck, Alysanne.” He groaned, burying his head in your neck and spilling his seed into you.
You gasped, not even sure you heard him right.
He kissed your neck a few times and then rolled off you, not noticing the look on your face.
You laid there unmoving, still in your dress which was now damp with sweat, and your thighs now sticky with Cregan.
He fell asleep the second his head hit his pillow, still in his clothes.
You choked back a sob, moving your hand to your mouth so he wouldn’t waken. In reality, you could’ve started screaming and he wouldn’t have woke, or even shuffled.
You exited his chambers, trying not to be sick on the way to yours.
“My sister!” Sara drunkenly yelled as she seen you in the hallway. She took notice of your disheveled dress and hair. “Oh my gods, did you and Cregan just…?”
You ignored her, but she noticed the tears on your face. “Wait, sister what is wrong? What happened?”
You slammed the door in her face, throwing yourself into your pillow and screaming.
“Mother would be furious if she knew you were sleeping this well past sunrise.”
You groaned, lifting your head from the pillow to find the voice in the room.
“Jacaerys?” You said, when your eyes landed on him.
“I take it the feast for Sara Snow was a success.” He says, making fun of you. Your hair was sticking to your face, wet with a mixture of tears and drool.
“I guess you could say that.” You said, wiping your hair to the side.
“You’re disgusting.” He says.
“Gods, five minutes you’ve been here and you already frustrate me! Get out!” You say, both of you immediately teasing and arguing like you had never left home.
You push him out of your room.
“Don’t touch me, wench!” He whines, smacking your arms.
“Piss off! Go harass the bloody Lord of Winterfell.”
“I’d rather harass the Lady.” You push him out of your doors, turning and pressing your back to slide down the wall.
You hear him knock again and you rise to your feet, angry. “Jace, I said-“
You don’t finish your sentence, since as you open the door it’s Sara.
“I wanna talk about last night.”
“I don’t.” You say, going to close the door on her before she pushes it back open.
“What happened?” She asks, angry. She closes the door behind her and follows you to the bed. You sit on the edge and rest your elbows on your thighs, burying your face in your hands.
“Did my brother hurt you?” She asks, worried.
“No, no.”
She rests on her knees in front of you, placing her hands on your knees. “Tell me what happened.”
You sigh, trying to hold back your tears, but you cannot. “We had sex.”
“Isn’t that good? What went wrong?”
“He called me Alysanne.” You sob out.
“Oh, no.” She says, moving to sit beside you and wrap her arms around you.
“I cannot stay here no longer, Sara. I am being haunted by Alysanne. I find letters she wrote to Cregan, her clothes, her weapons. Rickon thinks I am her and Cregan wishes I was.”
“I am sorry, princess.” She says, sadly. “I thought I knew my brother better than that… Perhaps, if you talk to him about these past few months things can be different. Just give it a try, yes? You have your brother here now. You can leave if things do not work and the marriage can be annulled.”
You did not even wish to think of that possibility. It would be so shameful for both of your houses. You would do everything in your power to make it work.
You cleaned yourself up and went to Cregan’s chambers, knowing he would be hungover.
And you were right.
You entered his room without knocking, finding him in a bath with a warm rag over his eyes. Three times now you’ve been in his chambers.
“You can set it on the table.” He says, not moving the rag.
“What?”
“Oh.” He says, his voice changing in tone. “I thought you were the maid.”
You say nothing, unsure of where to even begin.
“Can whatever you’ve barged into my chambers for wait until I am done.” He asks, only the question is more of a statement.
“No.” You say, angry. You walk over to him and pull the rag off his eyes. He squints at the brightness, then gagging on the air as if he might be sick. “We’re going to talk, Cregan. We’ve been married for months and I don’t think we’ve ever truly had a conversation once. It is all I am asking. You could at least give me that. You’ve given me the cold shoulder for three months, and I’m tired of it. I’ve helped raise your son, I’ve loved you and I’ve cared for you even when you didn’t want it. You owe this to me.”
He sighs, defeated. “You are right in that, my princess. I apologize. We can talk later, alright?”
“No, Cregan. We will talk now.”
“You wouldn’t rather talk when I am of a clear headspace?”
“No. Now.” You say. He sighs again.
“Say your piece.”
The words left your mind the second he said that. You had this conversation in your head many times before, but now it was here and you could not handle the heat of the moment.
He raised his eyebrow at you, as if you were dumb.
“Oh, do not do that. I thought you Starks were supposed to be the most honorable among men. This whole marriage I have been treated with everything but. You are a disrespectful man, Stark. I am truly sorry about Alysanne-“
“Do not speak to me about my wife, ever!” He yells, pointing at you.
“I am your wife!” You cry out. “You chose me, whether you were ready for another marriage or not! I left my home, my family, my dragon to be with you! If I cannot have your love, is it too much to ask for your fucking respect?!”
He goes quiet for a few moments, “You have always had my respect, princess… and I know I have erred in the way I’ve treated you these past moons. But this marriage is just a duty. Nothing more, nothing less. This marriage is not out of love… so do not expect me to love you back.”
You laugh, dryly. “You called me Alysanne last night… Do you remember that? No… I suppose you were too drunk. You never would have touched or cared for me like that sober.”
He says nothing, but his hands grip the side of the tub and his face is contorted with anger. You rise, hiding any sort of emotion on your face.
“The dead don’t need lovers. Only the living.” You said. He threw his rag at the door as you walked out, not even granting him a second glance.
The memories of last night flooded back to him, and he rested his face in his hands, crying at his behavior. He had let down Aly, his son, and you.
He did care about you, he did love you in his own way. He just didn’t know how to show it. He didn’t want to show it. If he had shown it, he only would have betrayed Aly even more.
You went down to the crypt, somewhere you had never gone before. You had no reason originally, no people to mourn.
You stood in front of her plot, staring at the statue of her. She had been a skinny girl, with long dark hair and ‘plain’ features. You thought she was a beauty in her own way. You saw why Cregan loved her.
You cried. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help him.”
Your hand touched her statue, then you stood and left the crypt.
You said goodbye to Rickon, Sara, and then you left with your brother on dragon back, ready to be home with your true family.
———
“You’re a fucking fool, brother.”
“You think I don’t know that? Gods.” Cregan rested his head in his hands. He had sent every raven in Winterfell to Dragonstone, yet not one had responded in the weeks since you’d left.
“We’ll be lucky if the bloody queen doesn’t declare war on us for you scorning her daughter.”
“I am trying here, Sara! I’ve sent my ravens, I’ve sent men to retrieve her. There is nothing more I can do!”
Sara slammed her hands on the table. “Go and get her your bloody self, Cregan. The trip to Dragonstone will give you plenty of time for reflection.”
Sara turned to leave, and Cregan knew it was his only option of getting you back here. He would go and get you and make things right. He had to.
You had your own time for reflection, riding home with Jacaerys made you realize how much you missed being on dragon back.
Your mother of course welcomed you with open arms, but was wracked with guilt that you and Cregan’s union was not working. You paid it no mind however, spending your days patrolling Dragonstone on Silverwing.
Cregan had taken his horse and a few men to retrieve you from Dragonstone. The trip by horse was long, more than several weeks.
The entire time he rode in silence he thought of you. He thought of your last conversation and the final words you had said to him. The dead don’t need lovers. And you were right. Alysanne would not have wished to see him treat you how he had, she would not have wanted Cregan to spend his time sulking or being angry. He only wished he had realized it before he left.
He loved you. If only it hadn’t taken you leaving for him to realize. You were kind, gentle, beautiful. Traits Alysanne didn’t have but it was what seperated you from her. It had been how he was able to find his own kind of love for you, even when he didn’t consciously realize it yet. His own bitterness from losing Aly had made forget his honor.
Cregan arrived about two moons after you had left. He was aching, frustrated, and desperate by the time he reached Dragonstone.
It was dark, pouring rain, and you were playing with your brothers Viserys and Aegon when he arrived.
“Your Grace!” A knight came into the room shouting. Your mother looked up from her book. “Cregan Stark of Winterfell has arrived and requests an immediate audience with you and the princess.”
Your mother looked at you, and you looked like you’d seen a ghost. Your heart sank and your face went pale, but you nodded.
You met him inside the council chambers with your mother and his men. He was soaked, shivering. You could hear your heart beating in your ears, that was how nervous you were.
“Cregan.” You said, walking towards him and pushing him by his arms to the hearth to warm him up. It was another thing he loved about you, your protective nature, so he said it.
“I love you.”
“Cregan…”
“Love her?” You both looked at your mother, whose face was angry. “You love my daughter?”
“Your Grace.” Cregan said, removing his sword and bending his knee. “I’ve come to beg your forgiveness.”
She walked towards you both. “It is not mine you need to beg for… I sent my only daughter to you, and you spurn her for your dead wife?!”
“Mother!”
“You will not interrupt the Queen when she is speaking.” She commands you. “What do you have to say for yourself, Lord Stark?”
He stands. “I have nothing to say, Your Grace. You are right. My behavior was unacceptable. The princess deserved none of it.”
“Why are you here?” Your mother asks him.
“I’ve come to ask the princess to return home.” Your mother scoffs at him.
She looks at you, then back to him. “You are lucky it is not my decision to make.”
She turns and exits, leaving and commanding his men to wait outside the doors so you both could be alone.
You were even more nervous with just the two of you in there. It is silent for a few moments before you speak.
“Why the sudden change of heart?” You ask Cregan.
“It took you leaving for me to realize I love you.” He says, taking your hands in his. You roll your eyes, taking your hands back and stepping away.
“I can’t believe you.” You say, starting to sob.
“I know, I know.” He steps closer to you again, taking you in his arms as you cry into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“I loved you, Cregan.” You say, crying. “Since I was a girl I loved you. I thought you were different from other men. But, you’re just like the rest.”
Cregan cries into your hair. “I’m so sorry, my princess. I’m so, so sorry.”
You both stand there, holding each other and crying.
“Please come home.” He says. “Let me take you home.”
“Rickon misses his mother, Sara misses her sister… I miss you, you my wife.”
You pull away to look at him, trying to read his normally stoic features. You can see he means it.
“Okay.”
———
You returned to Winterfell on Silverwing, no longer having the strength to remain apart from your dragon.
Cregan had to endure another long and grueling trip back to Winterfell, which you enjoyed knowing he was suffering while you road through the skies.
Rickon had cried tears of joy when you returned, and a week later when Cregan arrived Rickon cried again.
You and Cregan had remained in seperated chambers while you still navigated your marriage, but Cregan made a point to spend every moment of his free time with you.
But you had been keeping a secret from him.
After you returned home to Dragonstone originally, your blood never arrived. The maester determined you were with a babe, which would arrive several moons away in the dead of winter.
Your thick furs and dresses made it easier to hide from Cregan, as you were not ready to tell him.
The babe had complicated things. If you had not been pregnant, you might not have returned to Winterfell when Cregan came for you. But you knew you had a duty, and you believed if Cregan could love you then you could fix your union.
Cregan had indeed put the work in the second he arrived home. He attended to you, conversed with you, ate with you, laughed with you, but gave you the space you needed and gave you the option to be intimate with him when you were ready.
It was strangely like falling in love all over again. You blushed around each other, got nervous and flushed, made each other’s hearts race, shared a first kiss when you were both ready.
Cregan had undoubtedly fallen madly in love with you, and he regretted not taking the time to do it sooner. He couldn’t make up the time he lost being afraid. All he could do now was love you without guilt, love you without fear, love you without shame.
Normally Cregan always knocked on your chamber doors before entering, but for some reason this time he hadn’t. He didn’t know why he didn’t knock, he didn’t know if it happened unconsciously or if he was too busy wrapped up with his thoughts.
Either way, he entered without knocking and by that point the cat was out of the bag.
He said your name, greeting you with a smile, only for it to fall off his face as if it had never been there.
You were in the bath, relaxing in the burning water, but that wasn’t the problem. He’d seen you naked, although it hadn’t been for a few months by this point, but him accidentally invading your privacy wasn’t the problem either.
It was the bump in your belly that was a problem.
Your head turned sharply, covering your chest quickly. “Cregan!”
“Sorry.” He said quickly, turning around to avoid disrespecting you.
“It’s fine.” You said, dropping your arm from your chest. “You just gave me a fright.”
He said nothing for a moment, only continuing to face the wall.
“What is that?” He finally asked. You sighed, stepping out of the tub and into your robe.
You walked up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face you now, and his eyes fell down to your other hand resting on the small bump in your stomach.
“Perhaps it’s time we talk.”
“You think?” He spits at you, immediately apologizing after. “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to be cross with you.”
You said nothing, walking over to the seats by the hearth hoping he would follow.
He did, and he sat next to you, his eyes never leaving your belly.
“Can I?” He asked, gesturing to your stomach. You nodded, untying your robe so that you were bare. You grabbed his hand, bringing it to the small bump.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have accommodated for you, made sure you were comfortable.”
“Truth be told it’s been hard for me to accept I’m truly with a child.” You say, “The reality had not set in until… well until you just now found out... I am sorry, Cregan. I should not have kept it from you.”
He chokes back a sob. “Feels like just yesterday Alysanne had Rickon.”
“He will be overjoyed to know he will have a little brother or sister.” You tell him. He looks at you, his face full of emotion.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks and before you can even finish nodding your head, you’re already leaning in to kiss him.
“I love you. I love you so much, my wife.” He says in between kisses.
His hand did not move once from your stomach the whole night.
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thewarriorandtheking · 1 year ago
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the green dragon inn, Hobbiton, Matamata, New Zealand
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twosecondstreet · 2 years ago
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Hobbiton: Visiting the Lord of the Rings Set in New Zealand
Hobbiton in New Zealand! #Hobbiton #TravelNewZealand
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ladyoftheblades · 4 months ago
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her heart his duty
gwayne hightower x reader
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synopsis: gwayne did not oft travel to court but a visit to his sister was long overdue and young daeron was to join him as a ward at oldtown soon enough. yet when he arrived he found more interest in a young silver haired girl, the kings very own daughter, his sisters stepdaughter.
warnings: smut, dry humping, masturbation, vouyerism, corruption kink, religious guilt, agegap relationship, intoxication, unrealistic fainting, step incest (?)(uncle step niece)
a/n: i had to tweak some things bc gwayne was a little (a lot) ooc originally, thus i gave him religious guilt. also ive been reading laughter in the dark so i think it influenced me. ENGLISH IN NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE i am also dyslexic.
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three moons it took to travel from oldtown to kings landing. three months of ridiculus talks and gossips from his supposed to be profesional fellow knights, subpar meals at inns and dingy taverns and horseback rides from dawn to dusk, gwayne had had enough. the gates of the red keep resembled those of the heavens.
his thighs were raw and scaffed from the saddle, his back drenched from the summer heat. the reception to their arrival was at the very least nice. his sister stood on the courtyard, looking the vision of a queen, though they had not grown up together he loved her with his whole heart. he knew the hardships she faced at court were nothing compared to his. a small gaggle of silver haired children were situated around her, two boys on one side, aegon and aemond he mused on the other an absent minded girl and a small boy clutching her skirts, helaena and little daeron. he had once mission: spend some time with the young prince, train him, make him feel comfortable enough to leave home with him and get out.
he dismounted and stood infront of his family. "welcome brother" said his sister. he took her hand into hers and kissed it. "sister, how youve grown" she gave him a warm smile. "allow me to introduce you, this is aegon"
the boy looked bored and his bloodshot eyes as hell as the purple stain in his tunicsleeve told him he was intoxicated as well. aegon only gave a small nod. his mother gave him a scornfull look but said nothing. "next to him is aemond"
"welcome uncle" "it is good to meet you my prince"
"this is my daughter, helaena" continued alicent. the girl gave a curtsy, he gave her a warm smile, she was the spitting image of her mother at this age. "and finally, this is little daeron" the boy only clutched his mothers skirts harder, hiding his face partially behind the dress. gwayne crouched down to be at eye level with his nephew.
"hello, young prince" his hand went to his pocket and pulled out a small hankerchief. he pulled the hankerchief appart to reveal a small wooden dragon. "this, i brough for you especially. it was given to me by mine own uncle, now i pass it to you"
the boy eyes lit up with curiosity, the toy an enticing offer, coaxing him out of his little hiding place. his hands left the fabric and reached out to get the toy, examining it with his hands, a smile tugging at his mouth. "what do we say, daeron ?" said his mother. "thank you uncle gwayne"
gwayne smilled and rose to his feet. "trot along now, i shall see ypu this eve for training, do you enjoy archery, young prince ?" he added. daeron nodded, eyes still trained on his b rand new toy. "very good then, i shall see you soon" and with that the siblings each went their respective way.
gwayne took a moment to study the courtyard, knights walked left and right, some stewards attended to their horses, further back toward the gardens sat a few ladies sat gossiping. as he studied the area, a curious figure caught his eye. a young girl, silver haired and wearing traditional targaryen red, stood behind a wall, her body was somewhat hidden, but her head poked out in curiosity, revealing long silver locks, traditional to the house targaryen. he studied her form from bottom to top, reaching her face. cute, he thought, when he searched to look at her eyes, he found them looking back at him. but they did not stay that way long for the second she realised her curiosity was returned, they widened and she diapeared behind the wall at once.
"is something the matter, brother ?" his sister said, noting his prolonged silence. he returned to his sister "has a silver cat in the shape of a lady made home at the keep or is perhaps another daughter you have hidden from me ?"
his sister gave him another smile "no brother, i believe you saw my step-daughter" gwaynes face twisted into one of confusion. "the princess rhaenyra ?"
"no brother, the younger. she is not half bad, nothing like her sister anyway, she is quite shy especially with strangers. you may not see her at all in the time you spend here." his expression softened, still curious but now moreso.... intrigued.
"come, let me show you to your rooms, you must be exhausted" alicent continued, interlocking her arms begining to pave their way to the guest chambers. they reared the wall behind which the princess had disapeared, excpecting to see her eunning along to avoid him but she was nowhere to be found. how could one diapear so swiftly ?
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his chambers were plain, nothing like the ones at oldtown, he was not spoiled but being son and heir to one of the wealthiest houses of the realm grew him accustomed to a certain standard of luxury. they were also exceptionally dull. his training session with daeron had a while to come yet, and thus he decited to visit the so famed library of the red keep. he walked the halls and arrived to the room, excpecting it to empty,most of the lords and ladies preocupied with the official hightower visit.
he oppened the heavy mahogany doors, stepping in cautiously. the room was as excpected, quiet and empty. almost. in front of him, to the other side of the room, sat a small sette near the fireplace. that was no unordinarity, the odd thing, was the oppen book gracing the table, the small blancet hastily disgarded to the side of the armchair and the haphazardly thrown around pillows. clear signs someone was occupying the space. he only knew of one person who would vanish at the sight of a stranger.
he looked around the room, taking note of any further evidence to suggest human activity. and there it was, a hankerchief to the right of the sette. his gaze scanned the shelves nearby the misplaced cloth, and surely, he could make out a form two bookcases back. he smirked to himself, he would coax the girl out whether she liked it or not.
he took a cautious step forth, silently traversing the room, he walked to the sette and picked up the dicarded hancerchief. the figure had not moved from its hiding place. he walked further, amongst the bookcases, pretending to browse the books. when he got close to the form, it began to run, he gave chase, swiftly turning the corner, now faced with the back of the young maiden. "princess"
she stopped, body clearly tense, hands in tight fists next to her body. tenatively she turned around. he could now marvel at her beauty. truly marvel at her features. her face was flushed, red from embarassment, contrasting yet complimenting her mesmerising violet eyes and silver valyrian hair. she was truly, stunning, surely the most comely maiden he had lay eyes upon. "sir gwayne hightower, i do believe" she said, voice coming out close to a whisper, the nerves behind it unmasked to his ears.
"in the flesh..." he continued, eyes studying her form like a predator seizing up pray. "i do believe, you dropped this" he said, raising the hankerchief up to eye level. her hand moved slowly, twitching with nerves and ever so cautiously, to take it, but he pulled his hand back, tucking the piece of fabric in his pocket instead. "wh-why did you um.. i mean, what should you want with a silly hankerchief, ser ?" he gave her a smile mischievy lacing his expression, darkening his blue eyes.
"such an elusive lady you are, and such an intriguing one at that. i cannot give up the one thing tying us together, i should not like to see you run from me... again" she gave a breathy chuckle, uneasiness evident in both the sound and the way her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. "please, i do not wish to interrupt your studying, allow me keep you company" he extended his hand to hers again, she looked to it in fear, yet accepted it anyway. he raised it to his face, eyes never leaving hers, full of lust, and kissed it. her eyes were wide, violet brought out her embarasment, ckeeks somehow even more flushed. he tugged her forth, and moved to take her back to the settee. they walked and sat across eachother in silence.
he looked to the princess, who nervously sat and fiddled with her book, her eyes trained to it, trained to anywhere but him really, as if seeing him would lead to her doom. "what are you studying, my princess ?" she swallowed hard. "umm well, it is no interesting thing not really atleast-"
"anything that holds your attention is a worthwile read i would venture" she sucked in a hurried breath, her expression changing from complete fear, to fear still but now with a mix of excitement.
"oh, it is- it is written by a braavosi traveler, an account of his relationship with the lysenian lady allara"
"a love story then ?" he said, mischeivus smile returning, eyes reflecting a glint from the sun making her chest flush with emotion. "well, yes, a tragedy ore like to be honest "
"how so ?" "well thy were um seperated, by circumstances, you know as it happens usually,they were of different social standing and she was kept away most her life and h-had no real connection with the world so believed his promises of adventure to be void, eventually they were discovered but all was well in the end, as well as it could atleast and-"
she stopped speaking suddently, realising how she had rambled and looked up, meeting gwaynes eyes, excpecting to find disgust or boredom or even fury but none of that were present. he only looked to her in admiration, in intigue. still shame ran hot in her veins, the emotion almost tied to her name, "oh i- apologise, ser, i have incoherently rambled on" she apologised.
"no apology secessary my princess, i find your passion... quite amusing." she swallowed hard at his words, unacustomed to such attention, any attention from a stranger. "do you find yourself in the lady ?" continued gwayne.
"oh, well, i guess i do" she spoke in a single breath. "have you any romantic endeavors with braavosi travellers, my princess ? is this your confession ?" he teased. her eyes widened once again, shifting her position and shaking her head rapidly. "oh no, ofcourse not, how could i even find one such man in this castle"
he gave a saccharine smile, eating away at the princesses defences simultaniously firing up her shame. "do you feel deprived of adventure, then, as the princess in the story did ?" his hand on the table moved, slowly reaching hers. she failed to notice it, too focused on keeping her breathing elevated and not bursting in flame from shame. when his skin brushed against her knuckle she twitched, pulling her hand away, but it was too late. his hand moved swiftly, taking her delicate hand into his calous one, he could not help but notice just how smaller it was, his palm covering it in its entirety.
the contact sent waves of nerves through her body, but something about his warm toutch, something about his smooth movements, the way he caressed her knuckles along with his questions, the interest he showed to her oppinion, it stirred something in her. not just her chest, in her stomach... lower. the feeling was nice but its unfamiliarity alarmed her.
it was true, much like the lady in her book she had minimal contact with the outside world. most she had was the occasional trip on her dragon to her cousin laena and uncle daemon in pentos or the ones to dragonstone with her sister rhaenyra. if she was lucky and the queen was in good spirits, she would allow her to acompany her to the sept, where she caught shoert glimpses st the vibrant city of kings landing. but, as stated before, all of those were quite rare. most of the time she had to content herself with overhearing stories from viting lords, ever too shy to even approach them and ask questions.
"i should say... yes. i do not have many opportunities to exit the walls of the keep." he gave a hum, never taking his eyes off of hers. "should you like to ?"
she was still aprehensive of the man before her, but his words were so sweet. her head was a battlefield, shyness and intrigue kicking up a storm. "i should, yet i fail to see how it would be possible"
"perhaps...with the right company" he teased yet again. shyness, even caution of strangers failed to prevail in the face of promise of adventure. "do you fancy yourself the right company, ser gwayne ?"
he smiled, now genuine and true, showing his pearly teeth. "mayhaps we ought to find out, if you would have me" the air around them shifted, falling into a comfortable silence. they stared into eachothers eyes, blue into violet, sparks threatening to blaze into fire.
alas, their time had to come to an end. gwayne broke eye contact, looking to the window, the hour of his duty was drawing closse. he looked back to the princess, whose gaze had shifted to the book again. "earlier, in the courtyart, upon my arrival, i caught you looking at me"
she oppened her mouth to speak but no words came out, instead her lips formed a little 'o' shape, small breaths escaping. very kissable, he thought. "have i exposed your secret ? is secretly staring at people from a distance a habit of yours or something you reserved just for me ?" she did not move, neither did her mouth, a stone statue, the only semblance of life in her was the blush on her nose. he chuckled, what an intiguing girl he had infront of him. "tis alright, do not tell me, i should like to keep mine own belief, even in delusion"
he slowly rose from his seat, not removing his hand from hers but instead draging it along her arm, slowly, teasingly. through her palm, to her wrist, her sleeve, a snake of temptation, slithering and dragging ints sin, seeping into her skin in its wake. she tensed once again, the shocks from the contact causing her to revert to her demure demeanor. he positioned himself behind her, hand from her shoulder opting instead to play with her hair.
the way the silver of her locks caught the light of the afternoon sun left him mesmerised, the way her shoulders tensed and hunched forward, hurried trembling breaths audible to his ears even moreso. he leaned down, tucking her hair behind her ear and brought his lips to whisper "i shall see you soon, my princess. untill then, i have your little gift to keep me company"
his hot breath on her flesh sent shockwaves to her core, the promise of a randevouz exciting her so. what was this stranger doing to her ? she could not sit and enjoy the feeling of his body close to hers for long though, as he abruptly pulled back. leving the room, leaving her dumbfounded, sitting and staring still hot in her stomach.
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training with daeron proved more enjoyable than he had excpected. the boy was witty once he had shaken off his fear, gwayne found himself growing fonder of the boy by the minute. when he was pulled away by his mother to be put to bed, he descited to acompany them, telling himself it was to make his mission succeed, but deep down he knew he wished to spend some more time with his nephew. before he was put to bed for the night, the little prince gave him a big hug which warmed his heart.
time with his nephew was a welcome distraction but the moment the boys chamberdoors closed his mind flew elsewere. the night drew close, soon twilight would be succeded by the dark of night, with it, the fould city of kings landing would come alive in all its debauchery. he wondered if he could approach the princess, if he could help her get a taste of adventure she so desired. the more he thought of her wide eyes the more antsy he grew to see them again. she was all innocence, asking of him to whisk her away, to show her the truth of the world, to corrupt her. he loved and hated it. those were no thoughts of a knight nor of a hightower.
he was a good man, faithfull, devout, the image of chivalry, his name a shining example to every knight in all the reach. many a lady had tried to tempt him, young girls no doubt urged by their ambitious fathers to join the house hightower, others rebelling against the chains of their duty, but he had alwasy shot them down, he knew better. he had had his fair share of indulgences as well, brothels were a booming buisness, even in oldtown after all. but he had the reigns of his desire, never going over board, always in mind of his faith. but this girl... this girl was something. she was young, innocent and the way he had treated her, like a plaything, teasing her in the library, it surprised even himself. he thought back t the words whispered by the lords of the reach, targaryens are closer to gods than men, and found them to ring true. his actions today were not in line with his faith, it made his stomach twist in shame, but he knew, he knew, if the princess asked, he would worship at the altar of her beauty, the seven be damned.
he thought if only he could see her again, if only. the way she had spoken about her books, with such passion, such longing, he wished for nothing but to take her in his arms and show her the world. alas he had no way to approach her. the young maiden was kept under lock-and-key, if the king or worse the princess rhaenyra were to learn of an attempt to tempt her it would surely mean his beheading.
he walked along the halls of maegors holdfast, fully intending to simply get back to his rooms, satisfy his craving for the princess in private and try to approach her again, like a gentleman, in light of the new day. but as he walked, he passed a certain family members chambers, his eldest nephew aegons. he knew some of the princes endeavours, the queens letters oft complaining of her inability to exscersise control over the boy. from oldtown, he though his sister might be reacting dramatically to a simple exertion of youth, this mornings meeting whith aegon told him his sisters words spoke the truth.
gwayne truly meant not to encourage such foul behaviour but... if anyone knew how to slip through the walls of the keep unoticed, it had to be the prince.
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a knock sounded at the princesses chambers. given she had had no time to even remove her day clothes, she thought it to be her maids, arriving to prepare her for bed "come in"
the door opened, yet the face of the servant who stepped inside was unfamiliar to her. in his hands he held a silver tray, atop it a pece of paper along with a gray woolen fabric. the servaint said nothing, simply bringing the tray to her, and exiting with a bow.
curiosity killed the cat, she knew it well, the words of gwayne about her peering at him only this morning passing through her mind for a moment. but she was a curious alright, this occurance stirred up that emotion more than anything in her dull life had before. she took the letter upon her hands and oppened it.
to my silver haired cat, if the words you spoke to me ring true, take the path inscribed below at the hour of the eel, not a moment earlier not a moment later. make sure to wear my gift, it is not much but will prove usefull on our adventure. if not, i shall hold onto your hankerchief untill you change your mind. - ser gwayne
she began to kich her feet back and forth, mouth curling into a smile. he was asking a lot of her,sneaking out of the keep and he was, after all, a stranger. he was a man with no obligation to keep her safe, a man she knew naught about, except for the fact he found her intriguing. he found her interesting, he enjoyed her passion for adventure and was holding in his hand all she dreamed of, promising to grant it to her if only she should trust him. he would wait for her, today, tomorrow, so long as it took for her to be ready. how could she not answer his call ?
she swallowed down her nerves, doing her best to not let them trump her need for adventure. she took the cloak in her hands, it was large, large enough to hide her form and silver hair. the hour of the eel drew close, she had to make a descision. she looked to the paper again, a map was inscribled below gwaynes words. it was simple enough to follow, the opportunity was far too precious and too rare to pass up.
this morning she was a shy maiden, apprehensive and petrified at any sight of a stranger, closed off from the world. now, as she placed the cloak atop her shoulders, she remained a terrified maiden but who descited bravely, to open her heart to and interesting man, and seize the opportunity to realise her dream.
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the air was cold as it hit gwaynes face, he was waiting at the back exit of the castle, a small arched door, hidden behind foliage and trees, known to lucky few. aegon had given him perfect instructions and a promise of mutual silence to eachothers endeavors. many of maegors passageways lead to the door, luckyly one such had acces to the princesses balcony, a stroke of luck or perhaps, a blessing from the gods.
he awaited the princesses arrival, the distance had lead him to grow impatient. he kept her hankerchief in his hand, playing around with the fabric, tracing her excellently embroidered monogram, hoping, wishing the anxiety in his guts, the guilt of his actions would be smoother over by her. despite the words of the letter, he knew, he would wait for her untill the hour of the wolf if that was what it took. he would wait for her as long as it took.
procuring commoner clothes for both himself and the princess was as humiliating as it was difficult. his skin protested the cheap fabric and his senses the design but it would do for now. he could not simply parade around flea botttom clad in armour after all.
he stood in wait and the more he waited the more anxious he grew. no, no he was not anxious, it was something else, something sinister. he was hungry. he was hungry to see the young princess, to show her what the real world entailed. gods, he could not wait to see her violet eyes fill with graditude upon him fullfiling her desires. it almost made him grow hard in his pants.
as he looked to the moon, mind wondering, he heard someone approach from behind. he turned his head around to be met with the sight he so longed to see. the princess emerged from behind the greenery, his gift draped around her shoulders, but the hood was down, leaving her locks, now in a simpler braided fashion, to catch the moonlight, giving their pretty color an even more exotic appearance. despite the poor appearance of the cloak drawing a sharp contrast to her well groomed royal face and hair, her beauty remained unchanged.
his eyes draged up and down her body, drinking in her appearance, his thoughts of longing turning now more primal. she shifted in her feet, ever so shy, ever so cute. "you came"
"you asked" she replied, eyes on the ground, feet kicking the grovel beneath her soles. "i am glad you did" he continued, taking a step to her, drinking in her ethereal appearance like a man starved. "even commoner clothes cannot stain your beauty, my princess" his hands made their way upward, taking the hood and raising it atop her crown, hiding her silver locks, much to his disapointment. her head remained low, eyes hiding from his. he took her chin with his fingers, and raise it to look her in the eyes. she was trembling like a leaf, despite her fear, her gaze remained firmly onto his, she wanted to trust him, it was her nature which kept her from doing so. he would give his soul to break down her inhibitions.
"do not take the hood off, ever. we do not want reports of a princess sighting in the city to reach the keep now, do we ?" he whispered. she gave a small shake of her head, untrusting of her voice, afraid it would betray her fear. "good" he chuckled, grabing her hand and turning around, guiding her to follow him.
"adventure awaits" if he had turned around he would see the smile atop her lips.
the arched door opened to reveal a grovel path, around the outer walls of the keep. on one side the imposing castle walls kept her trapped outside, on the other rough rock cliffs lead to wild waves below. talk about being between a rock and a hard place. the prospect of her eminent death by drowning petrified her, fear lacing her feet, draging her back, firmly rooting in the ground almost forcing her to yield and freeze in place. but gwaynes reassuring hold on her hand did not let her fall. neither to the pits of fear or to her doom. he took cautious but determined steps, her own feet automatically copying them, quickly leading her around the scary path and onto a road in the outskirts of the city. an real road, paved with more than gravel, set with actual stone. a heavy breath escaped her nose, fear melting now into the steady ground bellow, releasing her from its shackles.
gwayne looked back at her and brought his hand forward, draging her along with it. he recognised the relief painted on her features, glad to see her calmed down. "that was the most difficult part, it is much smoother sailing from now on. come, we have much to see."
he walked with her along the streets, the closer they got to rhaenys hill, the busier the streets got. she marveled at all the sorts of different people in a messy harmony. merchants and bakers and men of all trades walked along the paths, some of them held in their hands leftover product from the day, selling it now at a downmark. other men were dressed in rich clothes, graced with gold and silver jewlery with women of the night flocking around them, figures doused in shadows stalking further back, no doubt awaiting a chance to strike and rob them.
occasionally she could spot gold cloaks on their patrols, but gwayne ensured she was not spotted by any of them. his hand never once left hers. his eyes caught glipses of her face, hidden by the hood, the amazement in her eyes swelled his heart with pride and pants with heat. they walked in silence, enjoying the hustle and bustle of the city. by now they were well on their way to the street of the sister.
in front of him, he spotted a baker, selling several pastries and breads at half price. he approached the man, dragging the young princess with him. she was far too preoccupied staring, gawking moreso, at a band of young men engaged in some sort of game, running up and down the street.
he removed his hand from hers to reach his coin purse. the loss of contact broke her trance, with no warning, she was brought back to reality. to the scary reality. she had lost in a split second her pillar of support, now extremely aware of the world around her. dogs were heard barking viciously in the distance, heavy yelling voices once drowned in the melody of the city now came to the forefront scaring her to her core. the young mens game she had admired a moment past was not but a scary unpredictability, their sudden movements threatening in her head to harm her, gwayne quickly paid the man in exchange of some tart but when he turned around to look at the princess, he realised his mistake.
she looked to him petrified, chest heaving with heavy breaths, hand frozen in place where he had left it, the other on her chest, attempting to regulate her braths. his hand flew to hold her, instead of taking her hand, he took her waist, pressing her body onto his in reasuurance. eyes searched her face, needing to take caution of any change in demeanor. "hey, hey darling, nothing happened, nothing will happen. tis alright i got you"
her breaths still came to her in heavy inhales. the urge to vomit started building up in the bottom of her stomach, vision drawing hazy. gwaynes toutch on her waist was a source of comfort. the support from her knight returned, now in a new form, he was toutching her suggestively, in public no less but without shame, she had half a mind to quit her fainting of fear and swoon from the contact. yet his toutch was anything but unwelcome, anything but a scandal, it was of true chivalry, the hand on her waist along with his sweet words pulling her from the fit of agoraphobia that overtook her.
slowly but surely she regained her composure, focusing on gwayne and gwayne alone instead of the heaps of people circling them. her breaths calmed, coming in rythm of his composed ones. her eyes evidently relaxed, her hyper focused gaze yielding to a relaxed one, searching around his clothing. he smiled "there she is. you scared me half to death my dear" he looked around, searching for a safe place to take her, help her regain her strength.
it just so happened the closest to them establishment, was one of the most famed brothels of the street of silk. oh well, what can you do, he thought. "can you walk, my dear ?" he spoke in a whisper. she gave him a weak nod, and attempted to free herself, to walk independently of his support but failed, slightly stumbling backwards, straight into his arms.
"here, eat this, gain some strength" she pursed her mouth in a tight line and shook her head no. he sighed, the princesses silly attempt a testament to her naivety. "yes, come on, it is for your own good. and do not attempt to stray from me. you are a princess and in need of my aid my dear, it is no shameful thing"
finally she complied, puting it away in one go, some color returning to her face. gwayne sighed once again, this time in relief, his grip on her waist became posssesive for a moment, caging her in, and then, with no warning, he placed a kiss atop her forehead. "come, let us get you comfortable"
she had no time to process such an intimate action as she was taken, gently, along the road, tracing a path to a large purple door. she took note of the dim lanterns encased in shades of pinks and purples, along with the decorum above the door and attempted to deduce what the building was for, a sort of arthouse, a gallery ? it was clearly a sensual place, perhaps a patron of the arts from the free cities, much like the ones who visited the palace, took it up as a project.
gwayne knocked on the door, a woman oppened, clad in a sheer pink fabric, sintched at the waist and embelished with a beaded belt. she could see.... everything, the cut of the dress left little to the imagination, the fabric revealing the rest.
the princess attempted to take a step back, blocked by her protectors hand on her waist. this was not a place of the arts... it was a brothel. her breath hitched at her throat, chest filling with shame. she knew little of how the marital act was done, only aware of bits and piesces accidentally sliped out from rhaenyra. she had attempted to get her hands on books which included details of such an act, only to find out the queen had banned all such books from being kept at the keep. to say she was curious was an understatement. yet despite her need for answers, she did not fancy herself capable of handling such an adventure today. alas she had no other option.
the woman seized up gwayne, clearly noting his pouch heavy with coin, smirking when she took note of his handsome face. then... her gaze fell on her. the whores expression soured, with something the princess could not quite understand. white hot shame overtook her body, one free hand flying to her cloak, puuling down the hood to conceal her face. she had hoped the rest of the workers looks did not leave her so ashamed should they step inside.
the woman did not speak, she only looked to gwaynes eyes again, and stepped inside, urging them in. gwaye gave her a slight nudge, ushering her inside all the same.
immedietly upon entring she was hit with the smell of sweat and exotic spice. another woman, older in age than the one at the entrance and clad in more apropriate clothing, approached gwayne, exchanging words she paid no mind to. women and men lounged all around, in various states of undress, in various poses and on differing furniture. there were women with flagons of wine, filling, overfilling every cup with ruby wine.
gwayne pulled her forward, following the older woman, deeper inside the establishment. the further they venture the more debauched and lewd the acts became. she caught glimpses of it, women lying on to of men, repeating a furious up and down motion, some women were on all fours patrons of the establishment positioned behind them. in one room she even caught a glimpse of two women kissing for the viewing pleasure of a man.
the sights left her speechless, shame spreading through her limbs like an explosion but it also sent a wave of uneasiness between her legs. she attempted to drink in the details of the scenes infront of her, but was unable as gwayne dragged her huriedly along. soon they reached yet another door. gwayne handed some coins to the woman, who smiled slyly and disappeared behind a myrish screen. gwayne oppened the door and all but threw her inside.
she stumbled across the stone floors as he closed the door behind them, the room was... something. nice was no word to describe it, far below the standard she had known. the floor was of pure stone, with soft fur carpeting under the bed and bear the hearth, she did not need to wonder what that was for. in the middle of the room stood a large bed, adorned with an assortment of fabrics and furs and pillows. behind it, on the wall hung a tapestry. she began to study it, the scene quite the scandal, two women with bodies intertwined and kissing, another fantasy of the patrons it must be.
gwayne took note of the silence and her wondering eyes, a smirk growing on his face. "not up to standard ?"
"no... i guess, i dont- wh-why did.... why did you bring me here ?"
his smile persevered, stepping closer to her. "oh, do not be scandalised my darling, i only wanted you to be in... a safe enviroment. here we can be away from prying eyes, and the noise of the people, a while, atleast. i believed you to need it"
"well, i-i guess, i- it was awfully crowded wasnt it ?" he exhaled through his nose, his hand flying to place a strand of hair behind her ear. her eyes trembled, focusing on anything, any other thing but his face. "it was, sweet girl" he moved his hands, undoing the pin that held her cloak together. the fabric falling from her shoulders, he took it in his arms and threw it to the side. he could now admire her gown in its entirety.
it was blue in color, deep like the sea, with the symbol of her house embroidered in black thread on her bodice. the cut of the dress was of much interest to him, it was embelished in intricate white lace and in the shape of a 'v' dipping bellow her colarbone, exposing her breasts. her neck was bare of any jewlery, having ommited it in preparation of the trip in the city. her hair was held back, in a braided crown but some strands still fell loose around her shoulders and colarbone. her hair were his favourite feature of hers, their color their silky feel when he ran he hands through them.. he could only imagine what it was like to tug on them.
but he could wait for that. he pulled his hand away and sat at the pillows sprawled around the hearth, placing her cloak to the side, focusing his motions instead to invite the princess to sit next to him. she took the invite, slowly plopping herself, not next to him but across. ouch, he had thought she was more comfortable with him by now, no matter, he simply had to try more. she placed her knees in frot of her and hugged them in a protective matter, her head placed atop.
" are you feeling better ?" he said, readjusting his possition to lie down further. "yes much better, uh thank you ser" "please, we are far past pleasantries my dear. i whisked you away from home and all but carried you in my arms, call me by my name"
"okay, gwayne... ser." gwayne began to laugh, hand over his heart, eyes closing from the wideness of his smile. his whole body rattled with laughter, it was the most genuine the princess had seen him. heat rose up to her cheeks from her mistake, head falling to hide her face betwix her knees. gwayne, among his fit, took notice of the princesses new position, his heart swelling with warmth at the girls shame. what good does shame do to a goddess on earth ?
"oh, my darling, do not fret, i find your attitude... endearing. you will come around to me, eventually i know it." her eyes peeked out from her knees, shining with the firelight, brows raised as if begging for his words to be true. before he could speak to ressure her, a knock sounded at the door. her brows twisted, sending gwayne a quizical look.
"enter" he shouted. and thus the door oppened, a worker stepped inside, carrying in her hands a tray of two cups and a flagon. she was dressed qeerly, moreso than the girl at the door, a dress held at her hips by a metal belt, the top of it all but fallen off, exposing the entirety of her chest deep down into her navel dark skin glistening in the light, around her waist a series of strung together beads. her hair was loose, fashioned in tiny braids, much unlike her own, and cascading down her back, jet black in color, almost that of the night sky. she was truly beautifull, she thought.
her eyes were full of curiosity and completely trained on the woman. she walked inside the rooms to where they were seated, placing the tray between them. her movements were deliberate, sensual in nature, practiced. she made an effort as she lowered herself, to show off her breasts to gwayne. he smiled at the woman briefly but his eyes did not waver with her little show off. the woman, finally, turned to look at the priness, noticing her amazed, innocent gaze and sent her a wink. the princess went red at the face, hiding once again.
gwayne chuckled for yet another time, this was the most entertainment he had had in a while. he took the flagon and poured them both a cup. "you do know... drinking from such a position will prove difficult, though i would be lying if i said i was not curious to see it..."
she chuckled lightly, the sound rattling her shoulders, and let her legs fall down. they fell in front of her, outstretched, her back still somewhat hunched, hands playing with the carpeting. she looked like a doll, ready to be takena and played with, gwayne thought. he had to stop he knew it well, a princess of the realm was no doll, no thing for him to gaze upon so lustfully, but he could not help himself. "y-yeah i quess" she lifted her head and gave him a small glance, smiling as she did so, and took her respective cup. she sipped at the wine cautiously, small little gulps going down her throat.
yet another movement of hers he found utterly endearing. he took his own cup downing half of it in one go "go ahead, drink, it will do you good" he urged. she heeded his instruction, finishing her entire cup in one go. unused to drinking, especially at such a fast pace and on an empty stoamach, she began to feel the wine hit her head with a small wave, it was strong, nothing like that of the palace. gwayne laughed and poured her another cup. "well, you seem to surprise me at every turn, like a cat. a very tempestious cat"
"i- im sorry" "why now are you apologising sweet girl ?" she gave him a smile, looking to his eyes now, nerves steeled by the alcohol. she took her cup again and began to drink. slowly this time. "well i, i- dont know... maybe i did something wrong or.. or you, you feel i am odd or you know-"
"i find your oddness fascinating, if it please" she gave him a full smile, teeth showing and all. they remained that way a while, their silence leaving the room barren, penetrable by the outside sounds. all sorts of moans and grunts, in all levels of theatrics. they sat and listened a while untill a chortle ran through the princesses body at a particularly high pitched sound. she looked to gwayne with wide eyes, afraid she had done a wrong thing again. but gwayne did not seem repulsed by her in the slightest only replying with a chuckle of his own. soon, the room errupted into laughter, a melody of joy, strange innocence filling the room created to facilitate debauchery.
among their laughs, the princess afflicted clearly by the wine managed to chocke out "wh- what could posses one to create such a sound ?"
gwayne among his own laughter, took pause, still smiling but now his eyes shined with something else, something dark. even the pure crystal of their color could not absolve them of such sinister look. gwayne felt his insides stir with lust, he was leading the princess down a road he knew he should not. he had taken her from her home, showed her the crazed streets of the city, caused her to almost faint and now had lead her into the last place she ought to be in.
but then again, she was no child, she was a young woman, she would have to learn of these things soon... all he was doing really was teatching her, yes, that was it. he did no wrong, he had not toutched her, not forced upon her anything, he was simply exposing her to a different world, he was fulfilling her dream, he was no bad influence, he was a teatcher he rationalized. "well, they are paid to act as if they enjoy it..."
she chocked on her drink, some of it dripping down her chin, even to her colarbone and chest. gwayne looked at the sight, and if she had been able to look at him, she would note of the lust gracing his features. she attempted to clean herself, but only managing to soil her sleeve. understanding the uneasiness of the moment between them she felt needed to do something to remedy it "w-well, i would not know"
she looked down to the floor, body frozen, afraid of what gwaynes response would be. it was, after all, improper conversation. "i did not expect you to, my dear. the ladies of the realm are left with no education on such matters, left to believe the act to be but the prerequisite of creating offspring"
she raised her head, alcohol coursing through her veins washing away the bashfullness of her personality, "but it can be good, no ?" it was gwaynes turn to be shocked, to chocke over his own spit. he cleared his throat and swallowed hard, as if that would aleviate the guilt he felt. he was corrupting her... the evidence began to show, this new side of the princess something most definetly brought about by his and their adventures. but then again, she had a right to know. she had a right to know what the marrital act entailed, she would be married soon enough. he could feel the image of the mother chastising him, his faith a forever alarm in the back of his head, an unnerving lighthouse in the sea of his mind.
but the light grew dimmer and dimmer, replaced by the rose colored visage of the princess, her violet eyes looking to his for answers, her knight, her companion, her teatcher. how could he dissapoint. "well... yes, ofcourse it can. there are many aspects to carnal pleasure, many of the in servitude to women, though they are neglected in the royal beds. women can draw as much pleasure as the man"
his hand went to her extended leg, brushing his thumb along her ankle. what washe doing ? he should get out of there, take her in his arms and take her where nothing could taint her. his heart wished to protect her virtue, but a larger part, a truer part perhaps, longed to be the one to soil her so. "i should like to know" she spoke. gwaynes hand on her ankle tensed, squeezing her extremity slightly. there was no place for the seven in a place like this, this was a house of sin. but knoledge, is ever present, even in the darkest of acts, even in war and death there is something to be learned. this was but another part of life she ought to lear, he justified to himself.
he sent her a look, another squeeze to her ankle, a quizical one this time, asking "are you sure ?". she nodded.
gwayne had half a mind to take her in his arms and show her firsthand all she needed to learn. but he held back, raising himself to stand instead. he extended his hand in front of her face, asking her to take it, though he knew already she would. she looked up at him, innocent eyes through lashes, if only she knew the effect she had on him, and accepted the invitation. he pulled her from her position, a laugh escaping her, only to bring her flush against his front and urge her forth.
they exited the room and began to wonder the hallways, hands entwined, giggling. they must have looked like children frolicking through fields, a vision opposite to their enviroment. sounds of coupling echoed through the walls of the establishment, they passed through several doors and rooms, gwayne looking briefly inside of every single one, browsing. eventually they stopped, having reached a certain chamber, quite unlike the rest. the door was wise open leaving the inside available to spectators, they were much richer in furnishings than the chambers they had resided in, clearly, the client was of exceptional wealth.
"here, take a look" whispered gwayne, bringing her forward to look at the couple, pressing himself to her back all the same.
the scene was... debauching, bewitching, scandalising. in the middle of the room lay a circular bed, on top of it a couple, a man surprisingly young for a client here, and a woman equally as beautifull. the man sat in the middle of it, she on top of him. her hips moved in sensual motions, practiced by the years of her work, each movement of hers must have worked wonders for they elicited loud moans and grunts from the man, the melodious sound mixing with mewls of her own and the sounds of their hips.
the princess was enamoured by the sight infront of her. she felt an ache to her stomach, throbing in her insides, unfamiliar feeling with an unknown solution. she was mesmerised both by her bodys reaction and the scene in front of her, so much so she failed to take notice of gwayne behind her, pulling her in his embrace like a serpent, slithering hands around her waist, head going to whisper in her ear. "enjoying the lesson ?"
feeling his breath, his sweet words in her ear, it startled her, body working on its own, attempting to escape the knights trap. but his hold on her did not relent, his arms working on their own, trapping her further in his hold. "are you uncomfortable ? or simply shy ?". his hand on her stomach began to move, feathelight, back and forth, up and down, sending shocks of pleasure through her body.
"you see my dear, it is not so bad... it is not bad at all. everything is part of human nature, so is this even if the gods deem it private. you neednt feel uncomfortable.." his hand moved further up, possesed, on its own accord, before either of them could realis ewhat they were doing, she felt his hand onto her breast. the tension in her body could take no longer, mouth releasing a loud yelp. the sound came quite louder than she had excpected, grabbing the attention of some of the ladies and patrons near them. immedietly, whispers could be heard, even above the lustfull sound of the brothel, "is that a princess ?" one such whisper reached the ears of gwayne. immedietly he pulled the girl along, before she had time to question him.they began running through the brothel, back to their room.
once again gwayne threw her inside with haste, this time, the ferocity with which his movements guded her, lead the princess to loose her footing and almost land bottom-first onto the floor. almost. she felt strong hands around her waist. once again, gwayne her knight had come to her rescue, the gesture filled her heart to the brim with affection. as his clear blue eyes gazed upon hers with concern, she looked to their vastness, the world stopping for a moment, for that moment, gwayne was her everything and she was his.
it was no time for such emotions however, they both knew, carefull adn a bit akward, she gained her footing, gwaynes hands leaving her, his own body moving to grab her previously discarded cloak from the floor. he took it and placed it on her shoulders, the motion so tender it was more reminiscent of a wedding ceremony.
she would be the death of him gwayne thought, no god could wash away the sins he had commited to her virtue that night, despite it all he knew he would not repent, she would be the death of him, he thought. she his death and his own desire his damnation. "we must make haste if we wish to go unnoticed" gwayne spoke in concern but only playfulness comuted to the young girls mind.
he took her arm, carefull this time to be gentle, and began to once again navigate her through the brothel. whores and patrons alike noticed the swiftness with which they exited but, far too preocupied with catching a glimpse of the targaryen princess in their midsts, paid no mind. they exited the brothel onto the streets once again. gwayne paved a path for them, different from the last one. this time they took the narrow strainous path of the hook.
the princess grew tired of the fast pace but time left little window for rest. noticing her reluctance, gwayne wasted no time, taking her in his arms, like abride on her way to the bedding ceremony, to carry the rest of the way.
there, in the arms of gwayne hightower, she felt a strange peace. she gazed upon the streets of the city, aware it might well be the vary last time she could so freely traverse them. yet, she found herself unable to focus on the experience, the arms around her so sturdy, a worthy distraction. the audible heartbeat of her knight only the crowning jewel of the experience.
eventually, they reached the tall walls surrounding the red keep, at a blindspot to the guard. much to her dismay, gwayne put her down, holding her waist untill she stabilised.
"there is another hidden door here, leading to the kitchens. it is a forgotten servants passage. i believe you can take yourself to your rooms from there ?" she nodded. "good. i shall take a different path, lower the risk of being noticed, nothing to concern yourself with"
she was not ready for their time together to be ended. she longed to spend more time with gwayne, his name to her synonymous with fun. his eyes looked down to hers, locked in time, both of them unknowing what the correct words to say were. the longer he stared at her the more her body filled with heat, the blue of his eyes, the various memories of his hands on her filling her core with that same sensation the show at the brothel brought about. only this time... it was far more intesnse.
she opened her mouth to speak only to be cut off, not by words of his own, but his movement, hand flying to her face, sowly dropping the hood of her cloak so he may marvel at the moonlight in her hair one last time. confident now, his hand found purchase on her ckeeck.
if she was not hot from the strange feeling in her core, his toutch would surely burn her. "my stay at the city will not be long... i only hope to have fulfilled your hearts desire. i know you have gifted me with a night i will tresure forever. are you satisfyed, my darling ?" his thumb dug slightly into her cheek to emphasise his words. she nodded. "use your words my darling, do not withhold your beautifull voice from me"
"yes" she said, voice dripping with desperation. he smiled and removed his hand from her cheek. the loss of heat threatened to send a frown to her face. but she had to brave, for gwayne. instead, his hand reached into his pocket, pulling out nothing else but her hankerchief. "i do believe this is yours"
she looked to the piece of fabric, and considered for a second. "keep it" she said. gwaynes eyebrows shot up in surpruse, his mouth a playfull smile. "i shall treasure it for the rest of my days, my princess"
she felt a strange pull to gwayne, something in her mind, no, not her mind, this was no logical or sensical thought, the heart surely had juristiction over it, or rather, the feeling in her stomach, it told her to kiss him. to give herself to him fully, to repeat the things she had learned in the brothel.
before her body could give in though, footsteps were heard, no wonder the keeps guard. gwayne said nothing, only hurrying her inside the hidden brick door and diapearing. she stood there, in the dark of the basement and stared at the closed door. even when outside the footsteps came to pass, she made no movement. there were things unsaid, things yet to be done between her and gwaye. but they had to remain uncovered, she knew, in her mind the same as her heart.
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gwayne tried to sleep. gods he so wanted to sleep. maybe in the unknown land of darkness he would find the one who he so longed to see, maybe then he would be able to do the things he wanted, to say what he thought, bare of shame and guilt. he reached to his 'commoner' pants, the ones he wore on their excursion, shuffling around the fabric, to pull out what he wanted. the princesses hancerchief, the one she had so graciously gifted him. it still held some of her scent.
it was to be a long night and the painfull erection in his undergarments tastament to just that. if he was to get through it he needed a distraction...
the morning light filtered through his window, disturbing his sleep which had not come easy, orgasming into the night untill he knocked himself out from exhaustion. he could still feel the soreness in his legs. one day at kings landing and already he had turned to a sinner. but it was not kings landing at fault, it was the princess.
he slowly rose, placing feet on cold hard ground. the itinary of today dictated breaking fast with his sister and her family, attending to some buisness at court his father insisted upon, training with daeron yet again and in the afternoon, more politics with his father and the king. no time was allocated to himself, no time to maybe try and seek out the princess. there was a small chance of her presance at either the breakfast, or sneaking around in the yard, the sole thing keeping him motivated.
and yet he went on and on with his day with no appearance from her. no lithe form sneaking around walls and bushes to catch a glimpse of, no presance at breaking fast, nothing. he settled back into his rooms defeated. he had gone thought the motions of his nightly routine as if possesed. and when he finally settled into his bed, he felt a pang of rejection. he sat and shimered in the feeling, second guessing his actions of the night before, replaying all the things he could have done differently. when-
his door sounded open and closed, the creaking of the wood at the hinges unmistakable to be anything else. he got up suddently, affraid of there being some threat to his person he had to face. he turned his head around, excpecting the worst, only to see the face he had been excpecting all day.
the princess stood there, clad in only a white nightgown, hair loose and tussling though her shoulders all the way down her back, in her hands a small candle, casting shadows on her face rendering her excpression unreadable.
gwayne knew not whst to say, the gods delivered to him the gratest gift of all. she was here, with him, out of her own volition, he almost could not handle it. he had to take this in stride, one wrong move could send her bolting. and thus he sat there, ever still, trying to hold back his urge to lunge at her and the annoying presence between his legs.
even whith the minimal light, he could see the way her chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. "i-" she began, the rest of the words melting from her tongue. gwayne chuckled, ever amused by the princesses demeanor. "my princess do yo-"
"shut up" she cut him off. gwaybe would be shocked if he was not so amused. the princesses hand fidled with the fabric of her gown, a beat passed adn she stepped forward, steps full of nervous determination. she walked all the way to his side on the bed.
now he could see her clearly, the red of her cheeks, the purse of her mouth, the pink details of her dress so delicately wrapping her form. he still held back, fighting to not reach his hands and toutch her, make sure she was real and not a manifestation of his deepest desires. cautiously, slowly, she placed her candle atop the nightstand. "i wanted to... um... i wh-"
his hand acted on instinct, finding her hip. she looked down on his hand, exhaling. "can i- i- i should sit down right, yes" and she did just that. he repositioned himself to give her space, hand on her hip subtly guiding her movements. "i wanted to... see you i... mised you"
his hand began to move up and down on her body, making her grow tesnser. "i missed you too. never did i think i would, want lingering eyes from the shadows" "well um.. yes, i meant maybe... in a different way"
gwaynes eyes gleamed with hope, dangerous waters the princess was treading but who was he to say no ? "what is it, sweet girl ? you can tell me"
"i have this... feeling in... my stomach i just, i want... you, i just, i cant describe it" gwayne took no time to move, placing both his hands on her hips, knowing where this conversation was going, savouring the princess basically serving herself to him on a golden platter. "do you want to toutch me sweet girl ? is that it ?"
"yes. i want... i dont know, ive been thinking... you know about umm... about the things... we saw, at the brothel" his hand moved, from her thigh to her hand, she did not pull back, allowing him instead to take it, playing with her fingers, calous skin on soft one. "what have you been thinking about ?" "i... thought about... y-you and and me in... their place"
gwayne could feel his cock almost throbing in pain. she would be the death of him. his hand on hers moved, on her back, bringing her closer to him. she grew tense, her free hand still fidling with her skirts. his other hand moved to her face, cupping her cheeck, raising her head to look at him. her eyes looking up at him, her form couped up under him, he swore he was in the heavens.
still, he could gauge the princesses nerves, tense body and trembling hands, and as much amusement as he found in this little game, she remained a flight risk as well as a fainting risk, if he were to take her right away, surely she would vanish. and so, he remained quiet, unlt silently reassuring the princess with his thumb on her face. "i just umm... theres this feeling in my stomach and... it makes me want to do these, things, i- i have been thinking about this, been fantascising"
his hand on her face left, slowly dragging downwards, onto her stomach, just a little bit above her core. "this feeling, here, is it?"
she nodded furiously. she did not know what was happening to her, to her body, she only knew gwayne was causing it and soely he could fix it. gwayne her knight, her confidante, her cause and key. "show me then, sweet girl, how would you do it ?"
her head craned to look at him, confusion lacing her features, mouth open, ready to speak. he stopped her with a kiss. he kissed her, finally. all he had hoped ofr, wanted, longed to do these past couple of days, realised with such a simple movement. to his surpsride and delight she did not pull back, not only, she pressed herself further into him, her hands on his thighs, finding purchase not of nervousness but need. she needed him, she needed the support of her knight.
the princess felt as though she would implode if he did not toutch her, damned shame preventing her from unashamedly speaking her mind. times like these she wished to be like her sister, take what she wanted with no concern of consequences. just as she thought she could take no more, he kissed her. his lips were soft, so soft, a perfect contrast to the rough hands on her back and stomach. her head filled with desire, with need, she belived she would faint again, faint if he would be taken from her. her need gave no space for shame anymore, the longer his lips remained on hers the more shame drained from her body, leaving her only in desperation. he hands flew to his thighs a silent prayer for more.
he pulled away, much to her dismay. his body twisted, reaching the empty space on the other side of the bed, bringing to her a pillow. he knew he could not grant her what she sought, gods forgive, he had done damage enough, soiling the mind of such an innocent creature but he could not dissapoint her either. his mind spoke of guilt but his heart knew, this was but a carnal expression of his devotion, how could such a thing be sinfull ?
he could have his cake and eat it too, please the princess and protect the sambles of purity she still had. it was his duty, as her teatcher and knight, to guide her through the worlds of both duty and adventure. "do you ever... pleasure yourslef, princess ?" she shook her head no. "tis alright, cmon i shall show you" he placed the pillow in her lap.
confusion was not a strong enough word to describe the princessed feeling to gwaynes actions. still, she trusted him with her life, he had proven his devotion, truly, all he needed do is ask and she would jump into the depths of the sea for him. the hand on her back guided her forward, urged het to... sit on the pillow in her lap. ever so trusting, she followed his guidance. slowly, cautiously but unashamedly, she stradled the pillow. the new position reminiscent of the one the worker had on the brothel, now she understood.
"y-you want me to.. do onto the pillow, as i would onto you ?" gwayne smiled, "yes, sweet girl.i want you to use the pillow to take your pleasure, to be selfish. can you do that, for me ?" she nodded. her hands moved from gwaynes thighs to grip the pillow. the shame she had felt earlier but a faint memory, the only thing she could think of was pleasing him. she began to roch her hips, back and forth.
her core was bare on the fabric, leading her to feel every sensation, every rub, everything. she could feel tension on her insides, moving her hips back, pearl bare on the fabric, a completely new sensation. she did not know what exactly was happening, she knew not why this particular spot on her core sent shocks through her body, she only knew it aided in alevieting the tension to her stomach. she pushed her body harder onto the pillow, chasing her pleasure.
she became so consumed with discovering her own body, she neglected to notice gwaynes motions. she craned her head to the side to look at him, to find the reassurance, the praise she needed. she looked to the side and found gwayne, with his cock free, one of his hands caressing up and down, in tandem with the movements of her hips. she gasped at the sight.
gwayne looked at her, alerted by the sinful sound. the princess had shifted her position, hands to the back of the pillow, holding it in place to match her thrusts. her face was twisted in pure acstasy, head fallen back, hair tusslibg down her back, exposing her neck. gwaynes free hand flew to her face once again, pulling it onot his, kissing her.
this time it was different. their previous kiss was sweet, chaste and very brief. it was but a way for him to shut her up after all. this time it was opposite, his lips attacked hers, passion and need pouring from every one of his movements. a particularly pleasurable drag of her hips sent a gasp to her mouth, an opportunity for gwayne to intrude her mouth with his tongue.
the more they kissed the more debauched she became, the previous tension in her stomach replaced with a new one, a ball of pressure building in her loins with every movement. the more they kissed the more she understood what to do with her mouth, tongue mimicking the motions of gwayne, leading him to leave a low groan. he pulled away whispering "you will be the death of me".
by now the tension was almost unbearable, her thighs began to shake involuntarily, it was strange, far too strange and far too much, but she wanted not to disapoint "gwayne i-"
"shhh, i know sweet girl, its ok, keep going" and she did just that. her movements got sloppier, thighs by this point tired, exhaustion fighting a battle with her need to please. she let out a particularly pathetic mewl "gwayne, gwayne please, what"
"i know, i know. let go, its ok.." he replied, placing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, sweet and chaste, the antithesis of what his words had urged. the princess heeded his instruction, letting go. a sweet sensation took over her body, pleasure errupting in her stomach, through her veins, consuming every single of her limbs. she could hardly control her bdoy, movements halting, brows knitting together, moans escaping her mouth freely, almost as loud as the ones in the brothel.
gwaynes mouth found hers once again, mufflig her moans somewhat. his hand abandoned his cock, im favour of taking the princess in his arms. she was trmbling slightly still, the moment she felt his skin on hers crubling in his embrace. with care, he repositioned her to lay down on the bed, now so pliable in his hands, the nervous jittering girls present just minutes ago gone. he himslef moved, laying on top of her, staring at her face.
he could writte ballads to her beauty, entire novels to the way her forhead creased. her hair tussled around her head like a halo, white reflecting the light of the moon through the window and the candle of the bedstand in a dance of shadow and shimmer. his hands moved to her hair, playing with it, tangling in the waves of silver. slowly, so slowly, he dragged then down, brushing hair them from her exposed collarbone, lowering to her breasts, cupping them, sending a jolt through the princesses body and a whine through her mouth.
"you did such a good job my sweet." he continued, lowering his face to press featherlight kissed to her neck "there is so much i could show you... so much more i could teatch you." his words were sealed with a squeeze of her breasts eliciting yet another moan from the princess. "alas... i cannot, you know we cannot"
"but why ?" her questin came as a desperate whine. gwayne bfelt a pang of guilt in his chest, he had oppened a box of doom, one he could not seal. his desire ran a hot stream though his veing urging him to abandon his gods and worship her in their stead. but his divine calling, be it the princess or the seven, was to exist in tandem with the laws of men, and they allowed no such behaviours.
he took her legs, manhandling them across his lap, her body worming its was to his embrace. one hand rubbing smooth circles on her ankles, the other took her head, hiding it in the crook of his neck. he shushed her little whines, holding back with every morcel of his sanity. " i know sweet girl... but it would not be right to do what you ask of me. i cannot make speeches of duty, the gods only know i abandoned such a notion the second i lay my eyes upon you. you have come and turned all i knew upside down. i have not done right by you, not in the eyes of the law, not in the eyes of the seven. but, we ,ay yet salvadge our situation, yes ?"
her head made a move to look at him, perhaps to speak her mind but he prevented that, hold firm on her form. "do not worry yourself with such matters, yes ? sleep, my sweet girl and i shall take care of it"
her mind was still heavy with thoughts but alas, physical and mentall exersion would not allow for her to be arguementative at this time. she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, secure and unashamed in the hold of her knight.
gwayne could hear her breathing even out, steady inhales and exhales a song to his ears. he however, could not so easily forget his worries. the situatuin they found themselves in, or rather, the situation gwayne had put them in, was indeed precarious. if their excursion or worse their nightly endeavors were to be discovered it would end her reputation and his life. but there was a way out. he could, have her. he would have her.
and as the night progressed, sky coming full of stars, he decited, then and there, his purpose was her, her safety his duty and her hapiness wis reward. she would be his life or signal his doom, in either case, as long as she was his, he would be glad to take it.
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a/n: alright yall, this took too long but im really happy with the end result. there may be minor rewrittes in the next few days, or i might release an updated version altogether. please give me your thoughts on gwaynes characterisation bc i was working with scraps.
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I wanna write a really mundane magic reveal.
This has definitely been done before (please send fic recs) but I’m procrastinating and really want to write it.
Literally nothing is happening, Arthur is having a bath, Merlin is tidying up in his chambers one night and everything is basically fine.
Arthur asks Merlin how he manages to always get the bath water perfect and Merlin jokingly says “must be magic” while he’s distracted, Arthur stops and starts thinking about all the fallen tree branches, how his armour is perfect and even if Merlin is late, his food is always hot.
So Arthur realises Merlin is a sorcerer, but not a very good one if all he can do is boring stuff with chores. And if he’s not using magic to defeat all the bandits, it must be because he can’t defeat all the bandits. Not that he’s trying not to die or anything. In fact, the thought of killing Merlin, or of Merlin being punished for his magic, never even crosses his mind.
Arthur shrugs, because Merlin made the joke before, it was just his fault for not noticing it, also his father is still king, so it’s probably for the best that Merlin never said anything, and he tells Merlin to be careful about his magic and to only use it if he’s locked the door.
Merlin’s too shocked by the easy acceptance to panic, so he’s just like: “you’re cool with it?”
And Arthur, oblivious but in love, is just like “well, at least you’re good at something.” Because, sure, Merlin isn’t powerful, but he’s not about to piss off the guy who gives him perfect baths. Then he’s like, “maybe figure out how to lie so my father doesn’t find out about you though. We can figure out the ban once I’m king”
I’m picturing this to be in early/mid season two. Morgana never turns evil, Merlin helps her with her magic because I said so.
So Merlin and Arthur have a while for Arthur getting used to Merlin magically lighting fires, sharpening his sword, adding protection charms to his armour, heating his baths, removing stains from his clothes and even putting them back to being like new if they lost buttons or anything.
Then they go to find the dragonlord, Balinor survives also because I said so.
Merlin tells Arthur Balinor is his father in the inn before they meet him. Arthur is a little worried for Merlin, but ultimately happy for his friend.
Then Merlin uses magic infront of Balinor and Arthur after Merlin told Balinor that he’s his son. Balinor shoves Merlin behind him protectively and Arthur is confused, “why would anyone assume he’d hurt Merlin? It’s Merlin. If anything, he’s more useful as a servant and more honest as a friend since he found out about the magic.”
Balinor is floored by it, and starts treating Arthur a lot better. Arthur gets to ask about pre purge stuff, Balinor tells him a bit about his mother from when her parents visited his when they were kids, then about Ygraine visiting the dragons and how she, Balinor and others in court at the time were friends.
They take him to Ealdor after the dragon is defeated/banished and Arthur looks over at Merlin and realises “oh my god, you summoned the wind.”
And Merlin is like, “yeah? No big deal.”
So Arthur is left wondering why Merlin is downplaying what he thinks is the strongest bit of magic he’s ever done. He comes to the conclusion that Merlin is embarrassed that it was a fluke, he tries to reassure Merlin that he can always practice and learn to do stronger magic like that. Merlin is confused because the wind wasn’t strong magic?
Balinor realises what’s happening and decides he wants nothing to do with it so he stays quiet. (He’s already sensed a lot of power from Merlin, so he knows he’s strong.)
Anyway, they keep going to Ealdor. Merlin still hasn’t caught onto the fact that Arthur thinks he’s a weak sorcerer, Arthur hasn’t caught on to Merlin being strong and just thinks he’s a little bit embarrassed about not being that strong of a sorcerer.
Then they get to Ealdor, everything is great for about two days until it starts down-pouring. Enough rain to flood the village and everyone is worried because Cenred or Lot(?)(I don’t remember when Cenred dies in canon) isn’t going to do anything because he just doesn’t care so their fields will flood and they’ll starve and not be able to afford taxes.
Arthur tries to reassure Merlin that it’s okay, but Merlin just hums. He asks Arthur if they can still lie and say they were on a hunting trip if he does something about the rain, Arthur tells him he shouldn’t push himself or anything, but Merlin says he won’t and Arthur trusts him so it’s fine. Merlin then goes outside and casually stops the rain, clearing the clouds and moving the rainwater into the river.
Arthur is shook.
Then he’s got to realise that Merlin is powerful, but again he never lied about it so he can’t really get mad, so he decides it’s better to just be shocked and carry on as usual until he gets used to the idea that Merlin is stronger than he looks.
There’s also a little bit of a bi panic in there somewhere because Arthur definitely has a thing for competency. We all saw his crushes on Gwen, Merlin, Lancelot, Mithian if she wasn’t just the wrong person for him, I’m pretty sure Percival too. There’s definitely others I haven’t noticed or forgot about. You get the idea though.
He sees Merlin being good at Magic and is suddenly very confused by the feelings he’s too emotionally stunted to recognise. Even if it’s just small things, Merlin is good at something and ‘what the hell happened to the bumbling idiot who forgot to hand him his sword the first day? What? Huh?’
Then after he accepts Merlin is really good at magic, he decides: “great! He can train with me now! :D” and he drags Merlin out of Camelot to spar which is basically just Merlin teaching Arthur how to defend himself against magical attacks. Arthur thinks he’s helping Merlin to protect himself because ‘if all he can do is wind that’s hardly an offensive attack so he needs more help mastering that. And considering no one else knows, it’s my responsibility to make sure he’s safe if he ever needs it.’
Merlin is just glad to be accepted and that Arthur is willing to learn how to protect himself against the numerous magical attacks every week so he lets Arthur think whatever he wants about why they’re sparring.
But yeah, there’s minimal trauma, it’s not a big deal and they get the happily ever after they deserved.
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