#The Maides Tragedy

[uwmspeccoll]

Wood Engraving Wednesday

FREDA BONE

This week we present wood engravings by Irish painter, illustrator, and wood engraver Freda Bone (1905-1991) from a 1932 edition of early 17th-century playwrights Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher’s play The Maides Tragedy, printed in an edition of 1200 copies by Richard W. Ellis for Cheshire House in New York. Unfortunately, we can find very little about Freda Bone’s life and career, even though she was a much sought after woodcut and wood-engraving illustrator. Still, we are delighted by the energy and symmetry of her compositions. If anyone has more information on Bone, we would appreciate if you would contact us.

View more posts with work by women wood engravers.

View more Women’s History Month posts.

View more posts with wood engravings!

[macbethisms]

underrated thing about wang baoxiang is how utterly pathetic he is. intentionally provokes his brother every time they interact because having esen be mad at him for something he did on purpose is easier than being vulnerable and then is like how could esen think i hate him :(( goes around rolling his eyes at all these Idiots who don't consider the Needs of the Common Folk and then gets grossed out whenever a servant dares to speak to him. constantly thinking about Hot Men Exercising and how much they all want to fuck each other probably. hasn't emotionally matured past the age of fifteen (he is twenty-three). thinks of himself as a Character instead of a person so much that he gets surprised whenever the things he did for their narrative significance have actual real consequences. while being quite literally haunted by a specter of his own guilt is like hm what could this mean. well time to not sleep for another 36 hours. kills people and then throws up about it and then goes off to kill more people because surely this is the one that will fix everything right. wants to be punished for what he's done because it's the closest he can get to admitting he feels remorse. looks for his brother everywhere but only ever finds himself.

which of course culminates with him stalking miserably through the hallways looking for someone to be mad at because there needs to be someone else responsible for making his life suck but there isn't anymore because no one has power over him anymore. and he can't go back but tries to convince himself that he doesn't want to because he also needs to see himself as being In Control of Everything That's Ever Happened to Him. he wanted it all along and he likes it here actually. and he won fratricide chicken and got himself tortured and tried to show mercy and did every evil dishonorable thing and now he just has to live with it all forever. loser!!!!

[oh-no-its-bird]

I think a 'surviving as a maid' oneshot where Ash and the queen run away together would cure my depression actually

Same for a fic just about Mio and archmage Ciel interacting in literally any way tbh bc what the fuck the author really thought they could pull a "and there was only one bed" and just have us (the readers) let that slide???? Bitch I see you and I'm so here for it— honestly both from the casual familialness of it and potential shipping. I adore both possible angles of this dynamic

Mio, Ash and archmage Ciel as a dysfunctional little family / maybe throuple (but also it's incredibly unclear what's even happening there) is so compelling to me I'm sorry I'm fully checked out of like all other ships bc that dynamic is so interesting in literally all directions

Rolling it back to Ash and the Queen too, they have such good chemistry and I adore every scene they share together. The Queen has such this like gentle, elegant, tragic air to her that you can just tangible feel. The way I lose my fucking mind whenever Ash gets any real emotion out of her, just, ag. I love them. Fuck.

I can not find a single fic for this webtoon and this saddens me deeply. I think I need to fix this fact immediatley tbh

[roseverte]

A mystery where past and present intertwine.

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[apollos-boyfriend]

sometimes you realize your new fave is just the exact same character as your old fave. sometimes you gotta combine the two just to solidify the fact

[dahliaduvide]

"His name is lost to history, but perhaps he wouldn’t mind. His motivation was a speedy payday, not posterity. A ballad that stirred the passions could sell for a penny. Sometimes he sold his work directly to the printshops, but he often took to the streets himself. He borrowed tunes from familiar songs, and had a talent for singing his work that helped him draw a crowd and sell his broadsides."

"Our modern notion of a songwriter would have been nonsensical to him, of course. His trade was partly creative, but his task was also to record and remember the familiar songs already sung, and re-shape them for new events and local happenings. He was a kind of tabloid journalist in his time. Today, we might think of him as a historian of oral traditions, a cataloger of folkways. But that’s not quite right. He was no mere archivist, no passive documentarian. He shaped and reshaped these traditions. Writing was an astonishing technology, and the reach of the printing press gave it newfound power. Oral traditions were chaotic, unfixed, unwieldy—stories forever in revision, never complete. Versions would branch without end, and older branches would be lost with time. How did the lyrics go? Well, that would depend. You could say a song existed in superposition, until someone sang it in their particular way."

"Though he would have been dismissed as a scabrous hack at the time, the ballad writer has such a knack for poetic and efficient depictions of monstrous violence that it can start to feel like he is an artist, or a proto-artist, who is governed by a bloodthirsty aesthetic. But the truth is, he may not be a single man—he may be a composite, his single authorship an anachronism. Or he may be merely a transcriber. The song’s structure and rhythm are so clean that it suggests a writer’s hand, but it could be that the story and its language were born entirely in song, from the community. Later, scholars would bicker over what counts as folk tradition, but a song’s evolutions in oral tradition and popular writing surely would have crossed back and forth countless times. The past is so foreign and strange that we should be left humble when we write our histories. Whether he is one writer, or several writers, or the people as a whole, the shape of his thoughts—his entire manner of thinking—is unreachable."

Excerpts.

Thoughts.

Truly a beautifully written article, and you should totally take the time to read the entire thing. He interweaves perspectives from performers, listeners, and even what the creators of these broadside murder ballads might have been like. Artful writing, hard thoughts, and self-examination.

This article really put into words a vital part of my vision for this project, creating modern murder ballads to draw attention to cases, raise awareness and hopefully get some justice for the Knoxville girls of today.

[britneyshakespeare]

i didn't like the roaring girl by middleton and dekker as much as i was expecting to. i have the feeling it's just one of those you-have-to-watch-it plays but as someone who has read a lot of elizabethan-to-restoration era comedy this year, there are other have-to-watch-it plays that still fare as better entertainment in a reading. basically the selling point to me moll cutpurse as the main character herself, and on that front she didn't disappoint, but every other character in the play had minimal interest to me, or if they did, they only had a little bit of time on the stage. having already known that the plot is that she saves other women from dishonor and remains a single woman by choice, yes, that's still cool—the gender fluidity inspired by the real moll cutpurse is cool. i enjoyed reading about that. but the whole action and plot around it. lackluster.

[imminent-danger-came]

[theknittinggoblin]

*Child Ballad 39A: Tam Lin has entered the chat*

I love u narrative songs 💖💖💖

[uwmspeccoll]

Marbled Monday

This Marbled Monday our marbling has an unsettling vibe. This green, yellow, black, and red marbling with little gold flecks adorns the cover of The Maides Tragedy by English dramatist Francis Beaumont (1584-1616) and John Fletcher (1579-1625) with wood engravings by Scottish artist Freda Bone (1905-1991) which we shared in a previous post. The book was printed in 1932 for Cheshire House in an edition of 1200 copies, but the play was originally published in 1619.

Frankly, I find this marbling somewhat unpleasant and it gives me a swampy feeling—I’m thinking the boiling lake that Grendel lives in/under from Beowulf. It is closest to either a Schrottel or Shell pattern, but appears to have been swirled a bit at the end of the process creating this uniquely stylized pattern. 

View more Marbled Monday posts.

-- Alice, Special Collections Department Manager

[creatediana]

Hanging on by a thread and struggling for a line— the masterful poet, former prodigy I am (have always been in my head) on a Friday I'm not working, not making money, and not worth shit. So business as usual. I wipe the dust off my bed I always attract no matter how recently I've changed the sheets. What old book by someone dead should I start today? A play, I think, one with no filmed production available to watch afterwards— yep, usual. I always cast with my mind's eye the most inexplicable faces to serve as my actors. And I, the director, unfamiliar with the work, rely on their improv (which is most untrained) to make the story worthwhile. It makes as good a piece of art as I deserve to see, as I ever could've made, as I'll ever be worth.

"Thomas Middleton isn't getting any better." — a stream-of-consciousness free verse written 10/13/2023

[nocteye]

tags.

[maguro13-2]

What happened to Kobayashi after the Incident?

Tohru : Kobayashi-san! You forgot your lu-woah! Woah! We forgot our clothes on!

Kobayashi-san : Forget about clothes. We're practically fine without them.

Tohru : What I'm telling you about that is that--[whispers into her Kobayashi] We're being watched!

Kobayashi-san : Oh, genius! You're right about that! I forgot that this office dress code is a scam! I wished that the humans would forget about seeing us as Exhibitionists while we're nudists with no clothes!

Cosmo : You got it!

*MAGICALLY POOF!*

Kobayashi-san : Ha, that's better. Now what were you were saying?

Tohru : So what is that I'm trying to really tell you is that...[Whispers] About something to the Kyoani incident!

Kobayashi-san : Tohru, outside, now!

(scene flips)

Tohru : Okay, now that we're outside as Nudists in public places and we got something for us girls, we can have our selves nudist style. Can we talk about the incident of what happened to Kyoani in that accident?

Kobayashi-San : (sighs) You wanna know what really happened? It was the summer in 2019. It was a happy day for Kyoani and we're glad that Violet Ever garden would be getting a movie of her own, everything was great, until one criminal came, he said that the studio stole his manga, but no we did no such thing so we decided to back him of and he still keeps telling us that we stole it. But I believe the manga he was talking about, was Fire Force. And do you know why Fire Force existed in the first place?

Tohru : Well, I'd say that it is actually a prequel to that Soul World manga from before in the 2000s.

Kobayashi-san : Exactly! So when I was on my way to Kyoto, I just realized that had a planned to start the most dangerous thing of all for terrorism, arson. Now, despite the less security that the studio had to offer, Fire Force was there to see Kyoani too see if Violet Evergarden was able to see her movie in production and to make it to the big screen for real.

Tohru : So? Then what happened?

Kobayashi-san : Then the man named Shinji not Ikari Aoba, decides to burn Kyoani and Fire Force stopped him! And what happened when I arrived? I see Kyoani gulfed In flames and then Fire Force proclaimed that Violet Evergarden's movie has been delayed, the pain and loss is so powerful every character who worked for Kyoani grieved in despair and I was in it too! My business partners turned on me, I loose socks and shoes, I loose car that force me to walk to work, and we were forced to live without any clothes and become nudists for life! I can't get a second season because of the pain, loss, and despair as well for myself! IT'S ALL THANKS TO SHINRA AND HIS STUPID INFLUENCE THAT GIVE PEOPLE THE CRAZIES! [yelling furiously+rumbling] *breathes deeply* Now that I lost my iconic business clothing and forced myself to live in the nude, I have no choice but to make me an Exhibitionist again.

Tohru : Hey, look. Humanity wasn't like this when criminal activities are on a global scale. Humanity may be an arrogant species, but they were wrong to do that for their selves and others, we always pay the price for humanity's crime against business and entertainment! Arson is not the tool of destroying business, but some people might do that to nature and stuff.

Kobayashi-san : Of course. Individuals like us were always that stupid and smarth at the same time. Some morons can't do anything right for their selves. Just forget at least Kyoani's younger sister, Kyoani #2 has made us second season and is doing Violet Evergarden's movie. So you got anything for Fire Force?

Tohru : That's great news to hear, but do you think that Jojo's studio would give them a third season?

Kobayashi-San : *rumbling* [ yells in frustration]

[g1rlken]

┏ Like real people do ┐

Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

summary: The reader is Aemond’s new bride, a match fixed some time before Viserys’s death. Daemon’s daughter through Lady Royce navigates through a difficult now into a new chapter of being married to the one eyed prince, council and war.

warnings: daemon being an awful dad, Luke’s death, attachment issues, angst, slow burn, arranged marriage

word count: 5.1k

Part 1. Part 2

-

Worlds changed, dragons spew fire, flowers burnt and flowers bloomed, children born and doomed. Y/n, Daemon Targeryn’s first born through Lady Rhea Royce. A child he had despised ever since her birth, just an extension for his hatred towards Lady Royce in the first place. He could never stand her, having been forced to his duties he hated her even more. He was never around for the aftermath of anything, the rogue prince who knew no bounds. The child wasn’t even half a year old when he mercilessly put an end to Lady Royce. The ‘accident’ left the child at the kindness of pitiful wet nurses and the castle staff.

King Viserys however couldn’t stand such tragedy over and over, he generally refrained from interfering his brother’s life. He did regret his decision of marrying daemon to someone against his will but he could not have anticipated such a harsh counter reaction via Daemon. Especially after the babe, Viserys thought the child could perhaps soften the coldness of their relations but it only got worse. The king wished to seek some atonement at least for the sake of the child. Y/n, the princess, away at the grasslands of Runestone. He arranged for her to live at the red keep, a motherless child with an absent father would do better within her present family. The King’s children through alicent were mere babies themselves. The maids, the kind Queen herself, would do well to look after the infant. After all the red keep was her house just as much as it was Daemon’s despite his grievance towards it. Her dragon too was well looked after through the keeps instead of Runestone staff. Her dragon was just a hatchling as y/n too was a baby herself.

Alicent, younger at the time. The keep’s staff, mastered in squalling babies and fussy infants. Y/n wasn’t a bother at all. Not that she were to remember but Queen alicent was kinder to her than the fates had been, she nursed her like one of her own. Such fondness and softness towards daughters, it was nice enough. At least for a while. Y/n was six by the time daemon had come for Rhaenyra’s wedding, then off with Laena. No familiarity between the six year old y/n and her father. Too young to understand her family setting and Daemon still rancour.

Daemon had two daughters with the driftmark princess, viserys deemed him capable enough to raise y/n then. He decided to send little y/n back to her father, viserys wanted his brother to accept his daughter. Alicent had a smaller voice at that time yet she tried to reason with her husband to let y/n be at the keep. Daemon had to accept his brother’s whim anyways so he did. Viserys was as relieved as Alicent was anxious that y/n was in Pentos. King made the decision in good faith, if only he put a bit more distrust in daemon than he did trust. Daemon was still the same, y/n, still a child and he did nothing to make her feel included or at home. She learnt to keep to herself how she had seen Haelena do. Still quite young to comprehend where all such distaste came from, all these different people, different land. She longed to call a place home, her memories of the red keep, Alicent, the others it kept fading because she was but a baby back then. Her father wouldn’t teach y/n how to ride on dragon back how he did with her half sisters. But y/n had taught it to herself. Watching she learnt, she didn’t have to be told explicitly what to do. She fell a lot, on her face and back but she learnt anyways.

As years passed nothing changed between y/n and her father, her half sisters were company enough time to time but she was always in their orbit and not as close. All until Driftmark, they lost lady Laena. Y/n was in her early teens and she tried to be there for Baela and Rhaena. She stood by their side through their mother’s funeral. She understood the gravity of such tragedy, she lived with that grief all her life for her mother who was a stranger she never even met. But she mourned her longer than she’d known her.

Reunited with Alicent, gaining a distasteful look from Daemon. “You’ve grown so much” Alicent remarked as she pulled the girl into her embrace. Both of them looked so much different from when they last met each other. The girl had distant memory of the queen but her warmth was nicer than she had known anyone else’s. Despite the occasion alicent was brought some peace of mind seeing Y/n, she didn’t look her best but at least not the worst. She didn’t have to ask y/n to know if Daemon spoke to her, if she felt at home. She reintroduced y/n to her children, some of them y/n didn’t even remember through faces if not for name.

“She was such a small babe.” Helaena commented as she greeted the young girl. It had been years since Helaena had seen her. Aegon and Aemond just stood with disinterest, Aemond trying to mask it otherwise regardless.

After the tragedy that was which followed Laena’s death upon the nightfall of her funeral. Aemond’s eye was taken and it was a rather gruesome unfolding. A night which left a permanent distance between families. A mark which shaped Aemond for years to come.

As the years followed, dragonstone proved to be just as dreary and awfully lonely for y/n. None of her half siblings were her own or ever treated her as such, unsolicited kindness was all she would get here and there and she had accepted surviving it. Thinking of lives far away, a place where life would begin. But it was perhaps never. As King Viserys’s health worsened the queen and hand took matters into their own hands bit by bit.

The queen, declared that it is but the king’s wish for Aemond to be married with y/n, Daemon’s firstborn. Viserys was asked about it, surely, his decision was firm and wearily elated about the marriage so what does it matter who pitched the thought as long as the king agreed. Aemond was agitated. He did not want it, at all. For the ever present and abiding Aemond he had a rift with the thought of marriage to y/n. But he kept his shortcomings to himself.

Even more so mortified was y/n, she didn’t remember how exactly was her childhood at the red keep but she did recall that ever since driftmark, that family would surely not have a soft heart for her. “Father please don’t-please don’t make me do this” she pleaded Daemon.

“It is the King, my brother’s wish.” Daemon said in a disregard of her wish, surprisingly he was fine with his brother’s second hand wish too. Daemon was aware that the Hightower queen and Otto is who pulled all the strings and his brother was a bed ridden king but this was a decision in his favour as long as he could be rid of y/n.

“You cannot marry me off like this!” She exclaimed, for someone who rarely expressed thoughts to daemon. Something she learnt in all those years with being met with cold shoulder all of life, she had to fight for her life as of now. “Not to Aemond, please father please, I do not know any of them-“

“You do. You have spent most of your childhood at the hip of that Hightower queen you will be just fine.” Daemon scoffed with a bit of condescension in his voice. Indifference as he referred to Alicent.

“I do not remember them” y/n tried to reason, any wet nurse could show sympathy to a high born motherless child she did not account to be in a marriage with that sympathy at this stage in her life. “They are complete strangers, father, please I will stay wherever you ask please don’t marry me off!”

“You are of age, y/n. This is a fitting decision for you!” He exclaimed with growing irritation at this conversation, daemon never paid mind to her moreover chose not to and hence he had expected her to show nothing but compliance.

“For me or for you?” She asked with a bitter huff looking away from her father already losing hope in this conversation, she couldn’t stomach this decision without letting him know her repulsion of it. “You are so eager to wash your hands off of me as if I have ever wronged you, all my life, I’ve never asked for anything-“

“Haven’t you?!” Daemon said loudly, his rage visible in his tone “The fact that you exist is asking too much of me as it is. You are an awful reminder and a mistake. I have been subjected to duty and honour and it is only fair if you are too. It is your duty, if not to me then to the King.” With that the door was slammed as the rogue prince walked out, an ironic vision of her life.

A bitter goodbye and an uncertain life with little to no hope y/n was set for the red keep, glancing back at dragonstone for one last time. She didn’t know if she held any homely softness for that place in her heart but she presumed the life which awaited her would be more dreary than the stone.

The wedding was an intimate affair, a small ceremony but still a lot of strangers y/n had never seen. Daemon refrained from attending but it was no surprise. She was met with warmth and affection from her mother in law and her family but not her husband to be, they were all a strange set of people down here in the south from the maids to the king himself who didn’t even sit on the throne yet made decisions.

Even the most beautiful flowers would wither away at the heavy heart of the new bride of new title, the princess. She couldn’t stand her person she was becoming or moreover the mere idea of what she had to be. Aemond wouldn’t even share the same bad as her, almost every night for the first week. He’d rather sleep on the sofa or some nights he’d just never return from wherever he wandered off to.

Barely getting the grasp of it, small domestic solaces just everytime she was with Halena and her mother in law, tending to her niece and nephew. The only time she felt less alone but she was familiar with the loneliness, that wasn’t the problem. It was the nerve wrecking confusion and uncertainty that followed after, eating her alive every night that she would lay. Within strangers now, she felt a stranger to herself too.

Days passed, circumstances arose: the king fell. Aegon was declared the king, a restless unease of an upcoming war. The hand’s very first decision was passing daemon’s seat on the council to y/n. “What?” She asked wide eyed as the hand and queen pitched it to her. “Why, me? I’m not even that learned…” she trailed off.

“You spend most of your time in the library, you happen to have a knack for reading. I’m assuming you can write too?” Otto questioned, if more number of people on the council were his own to mould and speak for the rule would be so much easier.

“Yes but just letters and scrolls..” she trailed off with a sigh, it was rather strange they would approach her for something as important as the council in the first place.

“We need sharp mind of a soft heart on the council.” Alicent said as she caressed her daughter in law’s cheek, with a smile to put some confidence in her. Despite her father’s motives of having y/n on the council, Alicent believed y/n would prove to be rather fruitful and genuine.

“It is also your birthright, through your father’s seat on King Viserys’s council. It is only right if you were to be a part of it.” Otto added in an encouraging manner. The pieces were being set already, as the blacks were processing their own steps.

They had Aemond set to go meet lord Dorros the very next morrow, with a bribe of the crown’s coin and loyalty. The forces set, Aegon’s coronation done. Just one last afternoon council left. Aegon, riding the high of his coronation wasn’t present in this one.

Everyone took their respective seats, it was an eventful morning’s slow afternoon. The coronation was as eventful as it was unpleasant with the beast beneath the boards. Sending out scrolls to other lords, the council discussed it. Y/n didn’t say anything, just listening. Writing out the needed scrolls, Alicent quietly remarked her beautiful hand at the words.

The door slammed open as Aemond entered, he was enraged at his wife’s seat on the council. “Aemond.” Alicent said as the room stiffened.

“What is this?” He asked with as his brows furrowed, he felt very wronged and partially frustrated that his lady wife had a seat on the council above him.

“It’s a meeting.” Otto declared as he looked back from the board back to Aemond, “Not yet done, what is your business here?”

“What is she doing here?” Aemond inquired as he leant over a chair, more belonging in this room than anyone else. Especially his wife, he thought to himself the other members with an awkward look on their face.

“She has a seat extended on the king’s council after her own father, daemon.” Otto filled him in on the subject, visibly disinterested.

“Daemon’s claim on the council died with my father’s death. She holds no such extension.” Aemond reasoned calmly, very much opposed to the irritation rising inside him.

“I’m still a hand to the king aren’t I? Your mother is on the council. Lord Tyland-“ Otto replied back but was interrupted by Aemond midway before he made his point.

“None of them sworn against Aegon. Daemon has called for the pretender hence his seat on this council holds no significance.” Aemond scoffed looking down at his wife who sat, scrolls lay in front of her and a pen in her hand. She felt overwhelmed with such necessary distaste, the hand to the king and queen mother herself asked her to join the council yet Aemond had an issue. It’s not as if she were to act against the interest of the crown or make big decisions to begin with.

“She is the princess. Your lawfully wedded wife, in the eyes of the gods and all the members of this very council and more. Despite Daemon’s treachery and your incoherent jealousy she belongs here.” Otto said breaking Aemond’s mouth, he knew which nerve to exactly hit. Saying Aemond was jealous, of his lady wife’s seat in front of everyone. It was enough to send him seething back and he was right. With a huff as he stared down at y/n, he turned to his heel at left.

Everyone had their accustomed part with a potential war brewing. Aemond had to leave to meet lord borros next morning. Y/n assumed he would be calculating and supposedly busy with his task at hand yet he found time to cause a scene at the council. Y/n knew that nobody on the council saw her as a threat because they all knew of daemon’s indifference for her. The black sheep. In truth she didn’t owe her father any loyalty either so their calculations were correct, her husband however.

She planned to avoid him regardless, spending the rest of the day with the twins, Helaena talking her ear off about her fixated spider and y/n loved that too. Jaehaera was playing with y/n’s hair, adding her toys into it making improper braids. Jahaerys running in circles and hoarding his toys in y/n’s lap as she enjoyed a conversation with their mother.

Alicent walked in, for a moment just taking in the domesticity of the scene. The serenity, the girls laughing. It was rather rare before y/n to see Helaena at peace like this. She entered with a soft knock greeting everyone and she took a seat next to y/n, “Children you must retire your auntie now, it’s rather late!”

“It’s alright mother, it’s not that late.” protested, Haelena she enjoyed y/n’s company as much as the whining children, Jaehaera caged y/n in her tiny arms from her back to not let her go. However through alicent’s hesitant eyes y/n realised she must have some sort of business to discuss.

“Forgive me my loves I am growing a bit tired…but I’m not going anywhere I’d be back soon enough!” She said with a sigh as she kissed the twins goodbye, both of them a bit protestant but let her go eventually. “Good evening, Helaena.” She smiled and bid her goodbye as well and exited with her mother in law.

After they were out in the hallway, secluded of other ears Alicent proceeded “Are you alright?”

“Yes, your grace” y/n replied with a non hesitant nod, in an instant with a smile confused why would that question come up.

“Mother.” She corrected her stopping on her way to turn to face her.

“-Mother.” Y/n said with a soft smile rephrasing her title.

“After…today’s council. You have been avoiding Aemond?” She asked searching for y/n’s dreary eyes.

“No-that is not the case” y/n shook her head trying to formulate a better answer given she hadn’t asked that question to herself. Because in a sense she was avoiding Aemond. “I—“ she breathed “I am rather anxious.”

“Of what? Does he speak to you in an ill manner? Do you wish for me to talk to him?” Alicent inquired concerned for her hesitation of Aemond’s lashing out or whatever it was she was trying to avoid.

“No-no it’s not that…I just feel guilty. He wants an authority, his opinion to be heard at council level and I get that place before him, we’re not at the best terms to begin with and now he must be cross with me” Y/n explained her worry with a sigh.

“And? It is your right, y/n.” Alicent said as she took her hand into hers in an affirming way, “you must never feel guilty for claims that are solely yours.” She explained, “as of Aemond, he can be difficult sometimes, but I assure you he isn’t malevolent. He loves you.”

The Queen mother’s assurance felt it came from a place of gentle constitution and the motherly naïveté of overlooking some things but y/n was more than aware that Aemond did anything but love her. She was familiar with lack of warmth, affection, just so far from it she could almost find strange ways to dwell in it. It was an emotion she knew for so long, from her father’s house to her husband’s, bricks of her old life and no love.

But she did not tell alicent of her wearies, after all she did not worry about it she was at terms with it. But she was worried meeting Aemond, as of now, she walked the hallway to their shared bedchamber with heavy breaths. Aemond was looking out the giant window, he had a journey to make the next morning to the baratheons yet he wasn’t resting or preparing. Much to y/n’s demise she hoped he’d be off somewhere else. She closed the door behind her as she entered, Aemond never talked to her generally. She never spoke unless spoken to but today silence weighed heavy between the two of them.

“The meeting ran late did it?” Aemond asked without looking back at her, he could tell from the soft stride who entered their chambers.

“No, I was with Helaena…” She trailed off growing strangely anxious because she felt answerable to him. As if it would compensate him and that was her burden to bear. “The meeting was rather trivial”

“Was it now?” He scoffed in a bigger way and turned to face her, “You must have provided the trivial meeting with your other worldly wit and understanding of warfare.”

“Aemond” she said taking in a sharp breath, meaning to tread carefully “I know you are upset. Believe me I did not know beforehand of the planning nor was it offered to me, the hand-queen mother they deemed it as my duty and right and I did not have other choice otherwise I would’ve asked you…”

“Asked me what?” Aemond interrogated crossing his arms as he leant against the stone pillar, her feigning nonchalance and false sympathy irritated him to no end.

“To take my place” she answered. She meant it in a genuine sense because she did not hold the same passion or want for a seat on the King’s council the way Aemond did. It was far from her. “I’d rather you take my place, I have no wish for authority on the council. I could ask the hand to-“

“You truly are the imbecile I presumed you to be.” He said assertively as he stiffened, his shoulders tight. “Are you that naive? Do you think I would need your help to put myself on the council? Yours?” He said as he huffed, berating her was his intention. Y/n remained silent, unmoving in her place no matter however she tried and help him or soften the rift in their marriage he was always imbecile from it. In the meantime he walked a bit closer to her, towering over her given his taller stature he leant forward by a bit to make himself appear intimidating.

“My apologies then.” She muttered lowering her gaze from his because she felt rather scrutinised by him as if she was at fault for something, as if she had wronged him. “Excuse me” she said before he could reply and attempted to retreat away to the adjoint bathroom. Wait out him falling asleep or leaving. The newlywed with their peculiar marriage of indifference.

-

Aemomd’s return from his errand with the Baratheon lord contained of a difficult detour nobody had anticipated. Rather difficult, to navigate such a blow through warfare. The council, y/n merely heard and spoke four sentences on an average, was shocked. No idea of action status not war treading. Circumstance heavy on everyone. Shame and disregard.

Sitting by the burning lamp, late evening, the scrolls and letters were to be written with such urgency after what happened with lucerys y/n had to take it to her own desk. Too busy with the works she barely processed the loss yet, she did not know Lucerys as a brother but an acquaintance who was rather kind to her all those years.

She barely looked up when the door opened, only when Aemond drew closer. Rather too close to her desk, he leant on the table where she was writing. Close to where she was sitting he breathed heavily. Putting the pen down and the scroll aside y/n looked up at him. “What did the king say?”

“The king?” Aemond repeated with a small laugh, he was still getting used to the new titles but referring those even behind closed doors was somewhat strange. “Aegon, he is not the most serious about it. Collateral damage he said.” Aemond repeated the words, he was never fond of the bastard himself but he never planned to take such drastic step. “Grand sire had a lot to say and mother, she is disappointed. Perhaps everyone is disappointed?” He asked emphasising ‘everyone’ referring to her. He did not know of his lady wife’s connection with the Strong boy but his own mother had a dislike for him and yet she was disappointed.

“I don’t know warfare as good as the lot of you, but” she nodded to his previous implication of being disappointed in a way, such loss must be difficult to stomach for those really close. “It is a lot…”

“Do you grieve him?” Aemond asked, his tone non threatening nor interrogative, subtly calm.

Pausing y/n thought about it for a moment, she was quick to side with the hand’s cold and calculative decisions as her mother in law suggested writing Rhaenyra letters instead, y/n herself weighed heavy on practicality as if grief was non existent. In a way it was. “I don’t know” she said puzzled “We were never close but he was kind to me, not all of them and not everytime but whenever he could be…” she trailed off. “He was easily anxious about a lot of things, scared.” Last time she had seen him it was the dinner for King Viserys upon the discussion to heir of driftmark. The scene that followed that dinner was distant in y/n’s mind until now. The same inferior fright was in Luke’s eyes that day.

Aemond did not say anything, her words made him feel guilty even more so but he would never display to anyone. He fought for his life debating to the council, to grandsire that it was an accident however not enough for him to take accountability of it as if he had done something wrong. He knew he had, but he did not show it. He could not. It did not come from a place of sympathy nor altruistic intentions but an ambush of unsolicited guilt. “Is it true?” She asked him.

“What is?” He replied as her voice pulled him out of his thought and his gaze met hers, she still sat on the desk the soft orange hue of the lantern on her face.

“You hold no regret?” She asked him referring to the conversation he had with the council when he was confronted about what happened. He did not owe his truthfulness to anyone, especially not the council.

The heavy silence between the two of them told her more than his words could, her eyes softened as he pondered his unsaid exoneration. Nobody would believe him but she might just, “I did not mean for that to happen, nor did I plan it.”

There was a crack in his demeanour, very different from how he presented himself back in front of everyone else about the the whole ordeal. Accountability seeping in and he should know, “Acting bigger than the situation won’t provide you with the atonement you are looking for.” She told him, forgetting herself when he asked for her advice and she assumed in such delicate state of mind he would rather lash out than listen but he did not. He was present, here to listen. To her? So far he had made it so very clear that he held no regard for her whatsoever.

“I am not looking for atonement.” He said more to himself than to her in a gentle tone and a hint of lostness in his expression. He longed for something, some consolation of some kind but he did not know exactly what and he felt restless with heavy emotions.

“You are.” She answered for the question he did not ask out loud, however the epiphany of it was not lost on him as he looked at her like an open wound. He did not protest her because she was right, she held the answers to herself. She could think for him despite of what he did and it unsettled him in some way because he had never felt such softness of anyone else. To know that he had done something he would have to seek atonement for and…hold regard for him still?

“Do you see me differently then?” He asked, small fright creeping him on the inside if she affirmed his answer.

“No” she replied without hesitation nor enthusiasm, she did see him less ruthless and uncaring than she had previously known him to be but she did not tell him that in this state of mind of his. However the heavy silence and the remorseful tension was too much to bear. She stood up from her chair seemingly to leave and attend some other task, just then realising he stood rather close. Before she could attempt to move away he stopped her. Holding her by her wrist he pulled her close but he was already close enough, the distance shortening this small for the first time since their wedding.

“Do you truly, not see differently?” He asked again with searching eyes. He couldn’t do with her short no however affirming as it was it wasn’t absorbing. It did not feed to his shame and guilt.

Y/n did not know how to soothe his wearies, she never thought her perception would matter to him at all. The walls within their marriage came crumbling down as he held her wrist it seemed, she wasn’t going away yet he kept a hold of her. To ground himself more than her. After staring into his eye for what seemed like an eternity she simply pulled him into her embrace, in a tight embrace. Her arms holding his broad stature the best they could, raising on her toes to bring him as close as she could.

Aemond was stunned to say, for a moment. He could not fathom she would want to tread so gently with him after what he had done he did not expect such, such softness. As he enlaced his arms around her waist, hugging her back as he raised her closer to him. His person. He had never felt such warmth and love of hands that would show soft affection even after knowing his ugly work, he was met with her comfort when he deserved retribution. It nestled his spirit in a serene place, he worried the place would vanish if he let go off her so he didn’t. He kept holding her close to him, closer of it was possible as he buried his face by the crook of her neck.

After a while she pulled away but not entirely, resting her temple against his. His soft breath on her as she sighed closing her eyes. He followed to, until he met her gaze again. His impulse wanted to touch her face to make sure she was real, that this moment was. So he did. Fixing the loose strand of her hair behind her ear he cupped her face. She did not move away, heart racing in such gentle exchange between the two of them. It was a first and he did not want her to extend her boundaries for his sake but he could not stop himself, he brushed his lips against her.

Indulging in a passionate kiss, holding her face in his hands as if she was made of porcelain. It was the first time somebody had held y/n with such fragility. Such affection was very foreign to her all her life, even the kiss on their wedding day felt forced and ceremonial. But this felt real, it was. She kissed him back and held him close, standing in the light of a desk lantern, the moonlight seeping in and lovers who might just be alright.

—

—part 2.

I am sorry if this feels rushed, i skipped season 1 bc i want to do all of s2…please let me know what you think in the comments 💕

If you want to be in the taglist pls comment AND go drink water RIGHT NOW ILY SO MUCH !!!!!!!!

-

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hi!! requests based on the new episode you say? please let reader, I prefer gn but also fem is fine, give Aegon a big hug, he broke my heart this ep, especially when Alicent didn’t wasn’t there for him. I need to comfort that boy he looked so devastated <33

Request: Maid/servant reader coming in instead of Alicent when he’s crying and hugging him. Maybe they had something before he was king? Him and Helaena still marry and have children

Warnings: mention of a child's death, mention of past cheating

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You usually assisted Otto Hightower in the Tower of the Hand, but there had been a change among personnel who had access to the royal quarters following the tragedy of the young prince Jaehaerys. Many maids and servants were no longer allowed there. Having been working for the Keep since you were five and ten, you were trusted by the crown and had been relocated to the royal quarters. 

With towels in hand, you made your way to the King’s chambers. It felt strange to be back in the royal quarters. You still knew your way around perfectly, though. The dowager Queen’s chambers were at the end of the corridor, next was Princess Helaena, Prince Aegon — now King Aegon, who had relocated to the King’s chambers —, Prince Aemond and lastly the children's chambers. 

As you approached the door, a member of the Kingsguard stood before the wooden door. 

‘’These are for the King’s bath,’’ you informed him, holding up the towels. 

The guard nodded and stepped aside.

You stepped into the King’s chambers, the door closing behind you. The room was dimly lit, with only a few candles casting flickering shadows on the walls. You were about to head toward the bathing room to prepare the bath when you heard a sound that made you pause. It was faint at first, but unmistakable — the sound of someone crying. You turned your head towards the source of the noise, and your heart sank as you saw King Aegon, standing by his desk with his face buried in his hands. He was sobbing, his shoulders shaking with the force of his grief. 

How could his half-sister do something so barbarous? 

In front of people, Aegon always kept his emotions tightly suppressed. He had to hide his vulnerability from his court. They could not see him as weak — he would never allow it. But here, in the privacy of his chambers, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He let out choked, gasping sobs that he had been holding back for hours. 

It wasn’t the first time you saw him cry, but this time the sight was heart-wrenching. Two years ago, you had been Aegon’s personal maid, and you had, on regular occurrences, walked in on the prince in tears, curled up in his bed after arguments with his mother. He had sought solace in your presence, and even took you in his bed. 

You knew it was wrong to have an affair with the prince. He was a husband, a father. But you couldn’t stop. Everytime you would push him away, he would find a way to take you back into his bed. 

At some point, rumors of infidelity inside the castle began to circulate, accompanied by whispers of your relationship with Prince Aegon. You thought you would get fired, but instead, the Queen relocated you to the Tower of the Hand, a discreet way to quell the gossip while keeping you in service to the crown.

You hesitated, unsure if you should approach or leave him in his sorrow. But something compelled you to take a step closer.

‘’Your Grace,’’ you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aegon’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice. He looked at you through red-rimmed eyes, his voice cracking with emotion. ‘’What are you doing here?’’ 

You flinched slightly at the harshness in his voice, but you stood your ground. ‘’I’m here to prepare your bath, your Grace…’’ 

His hands were trembling, and he was anxiously twisting the ring on his pinky finger. ‘’I don’t want a bath! I want…I want my little son back,’’ Aegon whispered. ‘’He was so small, so innocent. What kind of cruel monster does this to a child?���’ He looked up at you, his eyes filled with pain and anger. 

Without thinking, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. It was far from appropriate, but your feet moved before your brain stopped them. At first, Aegon stiffened, but then he sank into your embrace, his sobs growing louder as he clung to you. You held him tightly, your hand gently stroking his back in an attempt to soothe him, providing him the comfort no one gave him.

—

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[dahliaduvide]

AKA: The Cruel Ship's Carpenter Origin: England, 1750s Descendent: Pretty Polly

The Real Story...

Location: Portsmouth, England Date: ~January 26-February 26, 1726 Victim: Unknown, called Molly and later Polly Murderer: An unnamed ship carpenter's mate on the HMS Bedford Motive: Unwanted Pregnancy