#Wound Care Kingsland

[myladysapphire]

The Dragon and the Wolf (III)

You had been betrothed to Cregan stark at the start of the war. He was the noble and honourable stark that he was he supported your mother claim without restraint. So much so your mother saw it fit to betroth the two of you. So when disaster strikes and you and your younger brother are the only two survivors, you a shipped of north in your grief, leaving only Cregan to heal your wounds.

word count: 2,291

CW: MDI, 18+, smut, p in v, depression, mentions of miscarriages, stillbriths, love confessions, family reunion, marital difficulties, angst, not proofread!

Cregan Strak x Veleryon(strong)!reader

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

authors note: the timeline does not follow the book so don't come for me for changing things. sorry if this seemed rush honesltyi dont like it but i think it works well and makes a good chapter to lead into the epilouge.

In the year of 134AC, 3 years after the end of the dance of dragons, and three moons into your marriage with Cregan stark you finally made your way to kings landing after years apart from your beloved brothers.

Viserys and Aegon were no men almost grown, with Viserys a wife and child on the way and Aegon, now married to Daenaera Velaryon, though their marriage remained unconsummated.

The reunion had been a sad one, with many tears shed as you finally saw your brothers after years apart.

“Aegon! Viserys” you cried out as you ran out of the carriage to greet your brothers, your arms wrapping tightly around them, scared to let them go. Tears filled your eyes as you kissed their cheeks.

“I have missed you so dearly” you said to Aegon before looking over at Viserys, your mouth stuttering as you tried to find the right words “Vizzy, I have…oh gods-“ you cried out pulling him in for a hug once more “your all grown up!” you said, “a man grown” shaking your head as you hugged him closer.

He cried on your shoulder as you did, his arms never leaving you even as you introduced him to Cregan.

“This is Cregan…my husband, and the new lord hand.”  

“An honour to see you again” Aegon greeted, moving away from slightly from you to shake Cregan’s hand.

“As it is for me, my king” Cregan replied to Aegon head bowed.

And though Kings Landing had changed much, filled with new faces and on the rare occasions a familiar one, you still hated it.

You had thought seeing your brothers here, your sisters, it would feel like a home again,

But no.

You despised the viper pit.

There was more scheming and ploys than before and you were now at the centre of it.

with Cregan as hand and the death of your grandsire as regent, new faces took the role of councillors you had only just grown to trust.

Many of your mothers’ own advisers, advisers you had made Aegon promise to keep on his council had died in the winter fever the year before.

And perhaps that was why you hated Kingslanding, though a fifth of their population was taken, and 90% of that being the smallfolk, so many you had known, trusted and cared for had died and you never even knew.

The halls seemed more haunted now.

Not just haunted of by the faces of your family, of your uncles and brothers.

Of your mother.

But of them also.

You regretted coming with Cregan, and you hated yourself for it.

You had though and thought to stay here, arguing with him before the wedding for just this, to stay.

You know whished to take Silverwing and ride her to Winterfell and never return.

It was only the love you had for your brothers and Cregan that made you stay.

The memory of when first admitted your love for each other playing over and over again, as if it would somehow make you love this place once more.

“Cregan” you had sighed, now alone in your shred tent after a hard long day of ridding, the bath water doing little too sooth your joints.

He sighed your name in return, turning to face you as he undressed for bed.

“Do you love me?” you asked, trying to keep a casual tone to your voice, though you couldn’t hide the hope in your voice.

He smiled softly, moving towards you, taking your hand in his, “I have loved you since I first met you, and I do not think I ever will”.

You smiled, kissing his lips softly, “I love you, I have for so long, even when I hid behind my grief.”

“Really? I did not think you liked me much, after the war.”

“I did! And I hated it, I wanted to through myself into my grief and yet a part of me felt pained that I loved you and you did not know. I hated ignoring you, there always seemed to be a tether tying me to you.” You said shyly. “I hated that you were the reason I was pulled from my grief, I didn’t want my happiness to depend on you, but now…I am glad it is”.

She was glad to have him, he filled the whole left by her family’s deaths, though it was a different kind of love and wholeness she was glad for it.

But it did nought, not as you became and aunt, you fell back into the slow misery you felt before.

Feeling lost and haunted. Surrounded by ghosts talking to you day after day, ghosts you could not hear but faces haunted your dreams.

You didn’t tell anyone though.

Your family was happy, despite the death of Corlys or Baleas husband.

They all seemed happy here, laughing and enjoying the feasts.

The only person who could see your misery was Aegon, but even then, he didn’t understand.

It was clear he was haunted by your mother, of her death. But his was misery was he could push aside, and when with his family all he had was joy.

And yet you still felt that death followed you even more.

More as you felt the death of your child, spending hours, days on the birthing bed only to be greeted with a still born child.

More so as you felt the blood trickle down your legs time after time as you tried and tried to carry another pregnancy to term.

Your heart continued to break and Cregan could see your misery and so he insisted on you retuning to Winterfell, and you agreed.

Being back in Winterfell made you lose the feelings you had in Kingslanding, made you feel safer.

Made you feel at home.

And you felt lighter here.

Then Cregan was called back to Kings Landing and the emptiness found you again.

But you forced it to the side, hoping if you ignored it long enough it would go away.

And gods were you wrong.

You had plunged yourself into work, trying to help the north recover, from its weakened state following the famine caused during the winter fever.

 A year passed, now 136AC, a year away from your husband, from your brothers.

You became a ghost once more; all healing had vanished and the person you said you would become if Cregan sent you here alone had come.

 “Without you I will…I will only find that hollowness I felt for moons, the sadness will return without you to…to comfort me, to hold me and cherish me. I cannot be alone, I may rely on you a little too much, but I cannot bear to…”

And it had, you were hollow, and you were sad. But instead of letting it spill out of you as it had before, you kept it hidden.

Putting on a strong front, you wanted to be the fierce lady of Winterfell no matter how much you were breaking inside, no matter how much you wished for Cregan to see through your flowered words on paper and to come back to you.

And though he did come back to you, it was not because of you, but of Sylas the Grim.

A wilding chieftain who led a large force of 3,000 south of the wall and was plundering the lands of the gift.

Cregan arrived soon after you sent news of Sylas attacks. You yourself had tried to scare them off, using Silverwing to burn their trail. But they continued their plundering.

And so Cregan led the rallied forces of the north and attacked the wildings, leading yet another victory.

You had watched from the sidelines, sat atop Silverwing awaiting Cregan’s signal. But he never gave it, never looked over to where you waited. Only greeting you as you made your way into the festivity’s hours later. Having taken Silverwing over the wall and burning down all trees beyond the wall, within a 100-mile radius.

He had been surprised but grateful for your actions. But his gratefulness was soon overlooked as the drunken men of the north started to sing.

And you once again sat in your seat and let the hollowness within you start to show.

Later that night, after going to bed hours before Cregan, you and him finally spoke.

“Cregan?” you muttered, lifting your head from the pillow as he tumbled into the room.

“Wife!” he replied, his tone joyful, “I have missed you” he sang, “you’re going to come back with me to kings landing!” he spoke, looking at you expectantly, as if expecting you to dance in joy.

“no” you said, sitting up.

“No?” he said, suddenly sobering up. “Why not? Do you not miss your brother? Or me?”

“Every second of everyday”

“Then come to kings landing”.

“no”

“Why not?” he said, his tone almost aggravated.

“It is haunted” you spoke, your voice in hushed whispers as if the ghosts would somehow appear in your chambers.

“Everywhere haunted, even Winterfell” he said, looking at you, truly looking at you.

He took note of your sunken eyes, your dead eyes.

You looked just as you had those first few years here, and he hated how what you had said would happen had come true.

“no” he muttered, moving towards you “no…my love my sweet wife…what has happened?”

You broke down in tears, telling him what you felt, a years’ worth of emotions spilling out of you and the tears never stopped.

You must have spent the night crying in his arms, begging him to stay and never leave you again.

“please” you begged, “I can’t…I can’t go back there, and I can’t be without you”.

“okay” he said, thinking hard, “I will give up my place as hand”.

“I can’t ask that of you- “

“You can, and I must” he shook his head, cradling you in his arms “I have neglected you for too long and I am so sorry, I love you, I hope you know that” he said, hand caressing your cheek.

“you’ll stay”.

“Yes…always”

Giving up the position of hand of the king had been like a wight had lifted of his shoulders.

But seeing the state of his with had placed a heavier weight on him.

Feeling his heart break and his own betrayal fill him as you cried in his arms he felt he was a disappointment.

He had seen your loss, her grief and in his own he had pushed you away.

And though he had recovered, he should have known that you couldn’t, not by yourself, not when you still had so much grief left from the war still.

you had always been soft and gentle, always so Intune with your emotions that they overwhelmed you, and he had somehow overlooked that fact and sent you away.

And unlike last time he didn’t have the wedding or retuning to kings landing to look forward to. There was nothing really to look forward too, other than the one thing the gods had deprived you off.

A babe.

You had tried and tried, but three miscarriages and one still birth had wrecked you.

In truth had he not had the lords breathing down his neck once more for an heir then he would never have made you try in the first place and yet it was what you craved, despite the duty you wanted a babe.

And now as his cock filled you and hit all the right spots, this moment were their was no grief, no death no duty to fulfil, just you and Cregan.

“Cregan” you moaned, your face falling into the pillows as he pounded into you “please” you begged into the pillow, you felt your peak approaching as he entered you out, hitting your sweet spot again and again.

He held onto your hips, his cock focusing on that spot as his finger moved down to your clit, bringing you to your second peak of the night, as he filled you with his seed.

You collapsed on the bed, as he pulled you into his arms, holding you tight.

You relaxed into a comfortable silence, a silence you both often found yourself in.

‘I love you” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

And for the first time in a year you said it back, “I love you, too”

You fell into your roles as lord and lady of Winterfell easily. Finding you rather enjoyed your duties even more when they were not used as a distraction.

And even though there was some tension between you and Cregan still, you found the love you felt for one another made everything easier, especially when you had spent nights crying in grief and regret at refusing your brothers request to return to Kingslanding even if only for a few days.

You hated saying no, but they seemed to understand. Your duty was to Winterfell now, and they understood.

Egg had understood your need to leave before, himself feeling the same as he told you he considered moving to Dragonstone but fearing hell find more hurt in those halls than that of the red keep.

And now with news of Aegon’s tour around Westeros you were excited to see him once more, too show him your home.

A home you did not regret him having no place in, and as the years passed with a few visits here and there form your brothers you found you rather liked the distance.

Finding that perhaps your grief weas in the guilt of only them and you surviving and not Jace, Luke or Joffrey. The boys who were truly your brothers before they were ever kings or princes.

authors note: next part is the epilouge!

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[axelsagewrites]

Hey can you please do a Jace Velaryon smut where she is Aemonds twin who is married to Aegon and has kids with maybe (like Helena in the show) maybe Aegon is a bit fond of her but ya know it’s still Aegon. Her and Jace were really close when they were younger and missed each other very much there is longing stares and lingering touches so at the dinner he asks her to dance maybe some jealousy and protectiveness from Aegon and Aemond and after the fight breaks out and everyone is sent to their chambers y/n goes to Jace to see if he is okay and clean his hand which is wounded from punching Aemond with complete innocent intentions but as she is there’s tension and stuff and Jace is completely inexperienced and is all blushing and the slightest touch can do things to him especially when it’s the girl he’s loved most of his life and it’s like very sweet and loving but then it’s like really intense and frantic.

Jace Velaryon*See You Again

Pairing: Jace x f!reader

Summary: After years of being apart the reader and Jace are finally reunited only to have her brothers almost ruin their fun. Almost.

Word count: 4118

Warnings: Aegon is an asshole, Aemond is an asshole, angst, violence, reader gets slapped, PinV sex, unprotected sex, general smutty things 18+

Masterlist Here

The day that Jace left for Dragonstone you almost couldn’t control your sadness when you hugged him goodbye. “You’ll see me again,” he whispered into your ear, his head nuzzled into your shoulder.

“That does not stop my heart from already missing you,” You missed Lucerys and your sister as well but losing Jace was something you did not go a day without remembering. When you rode your dragon, you remembered the times you spent racing your dragon with Jaces and discovering small uninhabited islands off the coast. When you spoke Valyrian you remembered the countless times Jace had helped you practise your lessons. Every room, every hallway, every item in the red keep was stained with all the memories you had created with him.

At least you weren’t all alone. Your sister Heleana was your closest friend after Jace. You would walk the gardens with her as she found new bugs and you knew flowers. Aemond would help you with your studies and give you small gifts but despite how much you both cared for each other he was often closed off. While you enjoyed his silent company, he did not make you laugh how Jace had. Then there was your husband.

Aegon could be sweet, hell even funny. When he was sober. Which was rare. Even rarer after your mother had forced your union. She wanted the strengthen a claim Aegon did not even want. She had insisted that you would marry Aegon and Heleana to Aemond to secure the family. what Aemond confessed to you later was that your mother had done this in response to the suggestion that you wed Jace. She couldn’t stand the thought of mixing her blood with Rhaenyra’s. And you hated her for it.

Prior to this you had had issues with your mothers but when you found out it was her that trapped you in a loveless marriage out of her own selfish and foolish plans you would not respond to a word, she said to you. while she tried to force you to speak originally, she had practically given up after six.

When news came of Lord Coryls’s expected death no one seemed to care about his potential demise but rather what would happen to drift mark. It didn’t take long after finding out about him to find out about Rhaenyra’s arrival in Kingslanding. You were excited to see Jace again but it felt almost like your mother was deliberately keeping you away from Jace as it was not until you had to attend dinner that you saw him for the first time.

You were the second to last to enter the most awkward dinner known to man. A heavy silence hung over the air like a storm cloud waiting to thunder. All eyes turned to you as you walked through the door. yours glanced at Jace who looked away as quickly as your eyes met. He looked far different than before you noted. His shoulders had grown broad, and his jaw was strong. His dark hair framed his face perfectly. He looked like a dream. Hanging your head, you quickly walked to take your seat in between Jace and Aegon, Heleana on Aegon’s other side and Baela on Jace’s.

Aegon glanced at you but made no move to pull out your chair which you hadn’t even expected. however, as you went to pull your own chair out Jace stood suddenly. All eyes snapped to the now stranger as he silently moved past you to pull your chair out for you. A small smile crept on your lips which you quickly tried to hide as you sat down. Aegon scowled as Jace pushed your chair in before returning to his own. Jace gave you a small smile as he sat, his eyes darting to Aemond who you knew was likely wearing his famous glare. 

The tension did not lessen when your father entered the room. The way he walked, the way he breathed, it looked so painful. What was a life in his condition? Despite the lack of love from him you couldn’t help but sympathise for the bag of bones they called a king. Viserys groaned and heaved as he forced himself to stand to deliver his speech. It was hard to look at him when he took off the mask but harder still not to laugh when he claimed to love you all.

Aegon had not been as moved by Alicent or Rhaenyra’s speeches as others. When Aegon leaned across you to ask Jace if he knew where to put it you contemplated where to stick your knife. “Stop it,” you whispered in his ear, your voice defeated and your eyes watery. For one dinner you wished not to be embarrassed.

“You may play the jester if you wish,” Jace took your hand under the table without so much as glancing at you, but his touch alone helped your tears dry, “but hold your tongue in front of the princess and my betrothed. A lord should not disrespect his lady with such talk,”

Aegon rolled his eyes and leaned back into his own chair, “Thank you,” you whispered to Jace who just squeezed your hand in return. After all these years with no words spoken, you didn’t even need to say anything to feel comforted by him. Aegon glared when he noticed your hand which you quickly slipped back but it was too late for him not to continue his wind up.

You scoffed lightly as he offered to show Baela a good time right in front of you, his wife, and your entire family. you avoided the pitiful look your elder sister gave you. however, when Jace slammed his fists on the table and stood the table fell tense again especially when Aemond stood. You glared at him, but he kept his gaze fixed on Jace.

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond,” Jace awkwardly said as he reached for his own cup, “We have not seen each other in years but I have fond memories of our youth,” Jace looked down at you and your eyes locked for only a moment but it was enough to make you blush, “Some of the best memories I have are in this very castle,” he said, his gaze still on you as he raised his cup.

You were the first to join in on his toast, something that did not soften Aemond’s glare but finally made him sit down. When Jace sat down you glanced at your husband who was already half drunk and distant, your sister who sat sadly on her own whispering to herself, and Aemond who held so much anger for one person. 

Aegon reluctantly agreed to Jaces toast and without really thinking when Jace sat you stood, “I would like to toast to Baela and Rhanya, they’ll be married soon,” you smiled as you raised your cup. “It’s not all bad. Mostly he just ignores you,” you placed a hand on Aegon’s shoulder, and he shrugged it off as if second nature. “Except from when he’s drunk,” you added, forcing a smile on your face as you raised your cup, “To a marriage filled with love, something many dream of,” you smiled before draining your own cup and taking your chair.

You did your best not to cry as the music began to play. Your thoughts were interrupted by Jace turning to you, “Would you care to dance princess?” he asked as he stood and extended his hand.

A smile beamed onto your face as you took his hand, “It would be my pleasure,” for the first time in years you finally felt normal again as Jace led you from the table to dance. You’d half expected a formal dance however Jace began to dance with you as you had as children. Your laughter ran across the room as you both began to jump, dance, and spin.

The night could’ve been perfect if Aemond hadn’t stood raising his own cup, “Final tribute,” he began and your heart sunk as he spoke, “Each of them handsome, wise,” he paused, his eye looking at you and Jace as a tense silence fell on the room, “Strong,” Your mother tried to stop him but Aemond was not vindicated yet, “Let us drain our cups to these three strong boys,”

“I dare you to say that again,” Jace said, and you felt yourself shrink back.

“Why?” Aemond challenged, “Do you not think yourself strong?”

You gasped as Jaces fist hit Aemond’s face then chaos broke out. Luke stood only to be hit against the table by Aegon. You rushed to his aid, pulling at your husband who back handed you in the process of you pulling him from Luke. You held your check as Luke was pulled away by a guard despite doing nothing wrong.

 “I did not mean- “Aegon tried to speak.

“Save it,” You glared at him and turned just in time to see Jace being pulled back by a guard. You saw your mother pulling Aemond away so turned your attention to the guards, “Let them go,” you told them, but they hesitated. Grabbing one of their arms, you pulled it off Jace, “That is an order,”

Finally, they were released and Jace rushed to your side, his fingers going to trace the red mark on your face, “Are you okay?” he asked, his fingertips were feather light as they traced your skin.

“I’m fine,” you assured him with a sad smile.

The moment was once again ruined by Aemond who yelled, “Get your hands off my sister,”

Jace went to lunge again however this time Daemon stepped in. you however side stepped them all and walked up to Aemond, leaning up to glare at him as he looked down at you, “Why must you ruin everything?” You stormed off before your mother could send you to your chambers, but you knew that dinner was over.

Your anger had been bubbling over but after checking on your child and wandering the castle halls it soon mellowed back to sadness. After an argument like that you knew Rhaenyra would not be wishing to extend her stay. You would join her if you could. Anything to be away from this place.

Soon you found your feet leading you to Jaces chambers. You were filled with such a mix of emotions that you busted through the door, slamming it behind you, without knocking. “Princess I- “Jace stuttered as he stood from where he sat on the bed.

“What were you thinking?” You almost yelled.

Jaces eyes narrowed, “You know exactly what I was thinking he was trying to ruin me and my brothers- “

“He was trying to get a reaction out of you and look what you’ve done!”

“What I’ve done?” Jace walked closer to you, but you did not back down. “What about your brother?”

You shoved against his chest, but it did little to move him, “Oh please you didn’t have to punch him! And now thanks to you not using your head,” You said as you shoved a finger into his forehead. Jace swotted at your hand, grabbing it in his as he yanked it away, “I’m never gonna see you again. Are you happy?”

“Who said- “

“Please you really think your mothers gonna wanna hang around? What another six years and then we might have another dinner?” you pulled your hand back from his, jerking away from him to pace the room, “Or hey who knows maybe Viserys will die next week, hell tomorrow! And suddenly we’re at civil war. Then what?”

Jace sighed as you continued your rant but made no effort to stop you. anger washed over his face as you lashed out but unlike with Aemond he was able to hold it back, but the anger faded when he noticed the tears welling in your eyes, “This is about more than tonight,” Jace muttered.

Finally, you stopped pacing. Your shoulders heaved as you let out a heavy sigh, “I just don’t wanna lose you again,”

The words stung Jaces heart as your voice quivered out your trembling lips. Jace crossed the room to stand before you, taking your face into his hands, “You never lost me. Im right here,”

“Before you have to leave again,” You tried to escape his grasp, but he held your face in place.

“I swear to you,” Jace said as his thumb stroked over your cheeks and his eyes gazed into yours, “Not a day went by I didn’t think about you,”

“Or I you,” you confessed as you finally leaned into his touch, “I just wanted one good night with you,”

“The night is still young,” Jace said as you realised how close his face was to yours. His breathe fanned your cheeks as his hands fell from your face to your waist. Your hands found their place on his shoulders. They were broad and strong under your touch.

Jaces eyes glanced down at your lips. “We should make the most of it then,” you murmured, your hands slowly moving to the back of his neck. Jace shivered when your soft fingers touched his exposed neck but did not protest when you pulled his head down to yours, his lips falling onto yours.

The kiss was gentle as his soft lips pressed onto yours. Your fingers moved up his neck to his hair, gently scratching your fingertips through his silky hair. Jaces arms wrapped tighter around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Jace broke the kiss after a moment, his head resting on yours, “I’ve waiting a lifetime to do that,” he murmured as he looked into your eyes.

“I wish it for a lifetime more,” you said before pulling his lips back to yours. Your hands trailed down his arms, feeling his toned muscles through his shirt. When you took his hands into yours you felt him wince into the kiss. “What’s wrong?” you asked as you pulled back.

Jace gave a sorry smile as he lifted the hand, he had punched Aemond with up. You could see slight swelling on his knuckles and a slight bruise beginning to form, “I must not know my own strength,” he chuckled. You gently took his hand into yours as you inspected the bruised knuckles. Glancing at Jace’s face you could see a faint blush on his cheeks at your gentle touch. “It hurts a little, not as much as the target I suppose,”

“He deserves it,” you mumbled as you ran your fingers lightly over the swollen flesh, “I’ll wrap it for you,”

“I’ll be fine,” Jace assured you, but you ignored him as you began to rake through his stuff for a suitable fabric strip. You sat on Jaces bed with him as you wrapped his hand so he would not use it and cause further damage, “You always were so good to me,” Jace mused as you finally finished your wrappings.

You hummed at his words when you finally dropped his hand, missing his touch, “Just don’t go throwing any more punches around,”

“You have my word,” Jace said and for a few moments you just sat on the bed together looking into each other’s eyes. Jace looked at you with a gentle smile and adoring gaze. He took your hand into his non wrapped one, rubbing soft circles into your skin with his thumb. It was more tender than any touch you had received in the past years.

Slowly you began to lean in, glancing down at his lips, those beautiful soft lips. His smile widened as he leaned in as well to close the gap. His lips fell onto yours with perfect synchrony. It was soft at first, but you felt a craving rise through your chest. Soon your lips grew hungrier. Your tongue ran over his bottom lip and after a moment Jace let you gain entry. Jaces movements were unsure, but you moved your hand to hold his jaw before breaking the kiss only for a moment to climb into his lap.

Your lips crashed again as soon as you were sat. your hands held his face while his moved to your waist squeezing it lightly. You were slowly beginning to grind onto him during the kiss. Soon you began to feel his member harden under you. Jace moaned as your hips speed increased, rolling onto his erection with a quicker even pace. The way it felt over the clothes was already causing a wetness to form between your thighs.  Jaces breath caught in his throat as you grinded against him yet again and he pulled away gently from the kiss, “We should stop,” he said.

“Why?” you said, your lips soon going to press kisses along his jaw.

A dark blush fell across his cheeks, “I, well, I’ve never done this before,” he stuttered out, “I wouldn’t want to disappoint,”

Your kisses paused and you cupped his face into your hands, stroking your thumb on his cheek, “You could never disappoint me Jace,” Jaces eyes met yours briefly before they fluttered away in embarrassment, “I could teach you if you’d like,”

“Are you sure?” he asked finally meeting your gaze.

You pressed a kiss on his already swollen lips, “I’m sure,” You began to stand from his lip and Jace moved forward to try stop your absence, “Be patient,” you giggled at his antics causing a bashful smile from him. Your hands moved behind your back to work on the strings of your dress.

Jace cleared his throat from his place on the bed, “Would you like some help?” he stuttered slightly but not as much as before.

You turned around with a grin as Jace stood and began to unlace the fabric, “What a gentleman,” you praised as the fabric began to come loose.

Once the strings were undone you pushed the fabric off your shoulders and let it pool around your feet. You heard Jaces sharp breath from behind you and you bit your lip to contain your smile. Turning around, you rested your hands on his chest, “Thank you for the assistance,” you said, placing a kiss to his neck.

“It was my pleasure, I mean- “he stammered, and you cut his words off with a kiss.

Jaces lips moved but his body was tense against your bare one. You took his hand in yours, moving it to your exposed hip before snaking your own hands under his tunic, feeling his bare skin on your fingertips. Jace shivered at the feeling. “We can stop if you want to,” You assured him, but Jace shook his head.

“No please,” he pleaded, “I don’t want to stop. Please don’t stop,” you grinned at his words and pulled his head down to capture his lips again.

The kiss was frantic as you began to pull at the fabric of his tunic. Jace pulled back and quickly stripped himself of all his clothes. You bit back a chuckle at his eagerness. You took a moment to appreciate his lean body, his soft skin, and the sight of his exposed hard cock. It was longer than you had expected and already stood to attention. You took it into your hand and Jace moaned from just the touch. You kissed him as your hand gave soft strokes to his hard cock, running your thumb over the tip. He began to moan into the kiss which only made you want him more.

A whine left his lips when your hand moved off his cock, but he said nothing as you pushed his shoulders to make him fall onto the bed. Jace shuffled up the bed as you looked down at him. Once he was laying with his head on the pillows you began to crawl over him. You could feel Jaces eyes on your frame as you moved slowly up his body, places wet kisses over his skin. Your hands ran over his faint abs as your kisses arrived at his neck.

You left a trail of kisses up his neck, to his jaw, behind his ear, then finally to his lips. The kiss was feverish as you positioned yourself above him, his hard cock brushing against your wet cunt. You moaned as you felt it rub against you. “I need you, “You broke the kiss to whisper into his ear.

Jaces hands went to your hips, his eyes gazing into yours, “I don’t think I can wait much longer,” he said, his hips bucking up to try get friction against yours.

You kissed him deeply as you moved your hand to hold his cock. You rubbed the tip up your slit gently causing Jace to groan before lining it up with your entrance. You began to sink down slowly, gasping light as you felt yourself stretch to take him in. Jace broke the kiss as his eyes screwed up tightly, his breath ragged as he felt you. his hand gripped your hip tighter as you slowly sank down further taking more of him in.

Once you had finally took him all in you paused for a moment to adjust. Jace looked up at you in awe, the sight of you naked on top of him taking him so well. He couldn’t picture a better sight. “Can I touch you?” he asked, and you finally opened your eyes before nodding.

Hesitantly Jace moved to sit up slightly as he began to place soft kisses to the bottom of your breasts. You moaned at the feeling of his lips on your sensitive skin. Jace’s hand moved to hold your other breast, squeezing it lightly in his grip. Slowly you began to move, rolling your hips onto his.

Jace’s let out a loud moan at the feeling as your hips began to roll a steady pace, his cock twitching inside. “You feel so good,” Jace praised as he kissed your breast one last time before pulling your lips onto his. It was sloppy and messy, but his lips tasted like sweet honey as his tongue mixed with yours. Jace’s hand moved to grip your hip as his own hips began to buck up at the feeling. You did not stop his hips which began to buck up to meet your rolls, causing him to hit deeper spots.

Jace fell back to lay back on the bed, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips even tighter as he began to fuck you from bellow. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his cock was almost enough to make him cum right there. But as Jace had to stop his arrival you were chasing yours as a knot began to build in your stomach.

You did your best to ignore the cramping in your thighs to chase your high, but you did not have to suffer long. Jace paused his thrusts for a moment only to push you off him and onto the bed. You giggled as you fell and grinned when he climbed on top of you. the grin was replaced by moans as he lined himself up and thrust into you again.

Jace’s head fell into your neck, pressing sloppy kisses into the skin. You felt your stomach tighten as he thrust into you, the new position changing the angle. Craving your high, you moved your hand in-between you, putting your fingers on your clit to start rubbing circles only to have Jace snatch your hand away. Before you could complain he replaced it with his own fingers which began to rub sloppy circles onto your wet clit.

His fingers were rougher than yours but the way they felt made your toes curl and your walls began to clench. Just as you thought the pressure would be too much Jace nibbled your neck gently and suddenly you felt yourself release around him, a whiny moan ripping through your throat. Jace groaned as he felt your walls clench around him, his own release not far away, but Jace managed to continue his sloppy thrusts through your high before he could not stop himself from releasing.

Jace’s face screwed up tight as his body went ridged. If not for the moan that came from his swollen lips you may have thought, he was in pain. His heavy breath fanned over your skin as he came, spilling inside of you, before collapsing on top of you. his sweaty frame pressed against you as you both tried to catch your breath. When Jace rolled off you, you quickly moved to curl into his side. “That was amazing,” you panted.

“Better than Aegon?” he asked with a slight smirk.

“So much fucking better,”

HOTD Taglist: @clairacassidy

[evenhisfacewasanalias]

Fragments of Eros (Part 4)

Lady Jane Grey/Guildford Dudley

Rating: Adult

The last of the embers turned to ash, and something brushed her hand. She let out a small cry at the brief touch, the anticipation of claws or teeth that followed. But none did.

Only the feel of a warm circlet of gold slipped around her ring finger by human hands. The sound of a man’s voice, gentle, and not a beast’s.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

A Cupid and Psyche/(Beauty and the Beast) AU, inspired by and encouraged by schokoleibniz.

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Chapter 4: The Candle

The battle was nearly over by the time Jane had dressed and descended the stairs, and a number of beasts she didn't recognize had filled the lower floors in the meantime. In the dim light of dawn she could see that many of them bore wounds, but none showed any signs of fear though the terrible roar and echoes of human cries continued to sound from just outside the walls. 

Jane looked for anyone she knew, to find some way she could offer aid to her newfound friends. She happened upon Rabbit first, who held her back from joining the fray herself with a strength that belied her age and took Jane by surprise. The older woman instead put Jane to work with tending the wounded, setting up makeshift infirmaries across the lesser used halls and out in the wide open yards. Jane noticed that the larger beasts preferred to stay out of doors, while the smaller were happier to stay within the walls. She wondered at how much of their animal personalities their human forms took on, but knew it would be ill-mannered to ask, particularly now of all times.

It was Rabbit again who finally informed her the source of the influx of beasts - they were all of them refugee creatures from another encampment, very recently destroyed by the Kingsland guards. The soldiers had then followed their retreat all the way to Kent, but would not breach the castle walls. Only a few of their own remained outside to secure the safety of the outer doors - among them Susannah, whom Jane hoped remains in flight wellabove the combat and not down within the fray, as well as Archer, who had been meeting with the camp when the attack occurred. She dreaded to ask the location of her husband, and Rabbit did not answer when she did.

Instead they worked in tandem to treat the lacerations and burns of the strangers. Rabbit made quick work of the stitching with her nimble fingers while Jane followed with ointments and salves to ward off infection, occasionally working to set a fractured limb or withdraw an arrow. Several among their number were lost, though many had fallen long ago at their original homes or along their lengthy passage. Nearly all who made it this far had passed through their gates alive, if somewhat worse for the wear. So Jane busied herself with their care, and tried to forget the horrific sounds that still echoed through her mind. She tried, and failed, not to see in it some hint of her husband’s cryptic nature.

****

Susannah returned to them, in one piece and seemingly uninjured - though still anxious for those left outside - to help find food and lodgings for their numerous guests. Jane still did not know the castle so well as the rest but she did her part to set up beds and shelters with what supplies she could manage. It was made clear by Susannah that this was only an interim sanctuary for the beasts, as - in spite of the large size of the castle - there was insufficient food and heated rooms for so great a number to survive the winter. This castle was meant to be a fortress, rather than a residence, hence why so few among them lived there for long. Most longed for the forests and their freedom after a while. Jane understood quite well how they felt. 

Several of the sheds and outbuildings were temporarily converted for housing large families, or for those who suffered from more extreme infirmities and would require a lengthy stay of rest. Jane inquired at making use of the small chapel that lay apart from the other outbuildings, left boarded up and out of use for so long as she had been here, but Susannah and Rabbit both told her it was of no use. Jane wondered if perhaps none among them wished to be within the walls of a church that had so persecuted them.

Archer she found among the new faces, finally meeting him by name in the form of a dashing man with dark skin and curled hair - mussed slightly by the bandage wrapped around his brow. He had appeared to take fewer wounds than most, despite remaining longest in battle. It was then that Jane remembered how great in size his bear had been, so large she had nearly thought him a bed. But it was not a bear’s roar she had heard earlier.

“No, it was not,” Archer confirmed. Though he wouldn’t tell her what the sound was, only that she was in no danger. “Your cousin and I arranged your presence here so that you might be safe among us.”

Jane was immediately suspicious at these words, “you arranged this scheme with Queen Mary?”

Archer just laughed, “no, Jane - the princess Elizabeth.”

It was then that Jane remembered the idea had originally been Bess’s. A plot to ensure Jane’s safety was far more in keeping with Bess’s kind character than the idea that she might have plotted together with her far more ruthless half-sister. Jane had not known that Bess was acquainted with the de facto leader of the beasts, but as Bess’s mother had been accused as one, perhaps it was possible there was some truth in the rumor. Perhaps even Bess herself was one. Jane asked Archer the truth of the matter.

“You ask too often of the secrets of others,” he rebuffed, though not unkindly.

Jane knew she would not be told any more of Guildford’s person than she already knew. “But what of my marriage? May I ask of that?”

Archer nodded, “that was arranged so that we might be protected as well as you.”

Jane considered his words. “You hoped to have a potential heir to the throne that is one of your own,” she concludes. “Though there was no need for this - I would have helped you willingly regardless.”

She did not mention that Guildford had seen fit to extinguish the possibility of begetting any children between them.

“Susannah told me of your cleverness, and of your open mind to our cause. But we must think further ahead to the future. It will be no easy task to depose Mary. She is soon to marry King Phillip of Spain, which complicates the matter of succession. But Guildford is of noble parentage, and it seemed a suitable match.”

She knew as much from his brother’s accidental revelation, which she suspected Archer already knew of to be telling her like this.

“And your father was Baron Hundson,” she confirmed her understanding of Archer’s own lineage

Archer laughed, “are you asking why I was not the one you married?”

Jane laughed as well at the notion. 

“That is an even easier riddle to solve,” she looked to where Susannah hovered nearby, constantly looking to the bandage at Archer’s brow. 

“You have found us out then, my Lady,” he nodded. “The rest of the knowledge you seek will come to you in due time. Be patient with him.”

****

But patience was chief among the virtues that the Lady Jane Grey lacked. She was young, and cursed with an insatiable curiosity for all things. Still, she tried to forebear for the sake of the man who had thus far given her no reason to mistrust or fear him - nor did any of the others among them seem troubled by his secretive nature. Even Susannah, who she had once trusted most above all the rest. Only her own sisters now did she perhaps trust more. 

As she waited, she considered her sisters and her mother. She realized how deeply she missed them, though it had only been less than a fortnight since she had been in their presence.  She had spent nearly a year imprisoned, with nothing like the previously enjoyed intimacy between family to ease the confines of her detainment. Though they had often been at odds before her ascension to the throne, as all mothers and sisters must be at times, she could now only recall their better qualities. She wished for distraction of their boisterous chatter and antics, as she anxiously awaited her husband that evening. Jane wished to see - or at least feel - for herself, that he was safe, though all among the castle insisted he was never at any risk.

And so she waited, sitting blindfolded at the end of the bed, ears tuned to the slightest sound outside that might indicate the coming of her absent lover.

The night stretched on. And soon she grew too weary of sitting up to wait, still greatly fatigued after a long day of nursing the wounded back to health. Jane laid down amongst her pillows and promised herself she would only close her eyes for a moment. If she fell asleep before Guildford returned, surely he would wake her, as he had done on previous nights. But he never came.

****

The next day, Jane was assured again and again that her husband had suffered no injuries, that there was nothing strange at all to his absence. Still, Jane attempted to search the castle for any sign of him - checking every empty room, every cellar, every turret, even listening at the windows of the abandoned chapel. But there was neither hide nor hair of him to be found within the walls. Perhaps he really did disappear each day with the sun? But then what was he? She resolved to get an answer next time they met - she would brook no more postponement of the truth.

****

Her lover was absent from her bed for two anxious nights. 

On the third night she was woken by the weight of him slipping beneath the covers. She turned to face him, to ask him where he’d been, if he had remained unharmed as had been promised to her. Whether whatever monster had been out there might have hurt him, or whether he was himself that monster. But his mouth met hers before she could so much as breathe a word. 

He seemed without injury, however, as he pressed her back down into the sheets, already half undressed and lips hungry against her own. His hands roamed over her body, never stopping anywhere for long, but grasping at every part of her he could reach, having lost some of their usual finesse. For the first time it felt as though he was the one that needed the assurance that Jane was real and present here in this bed - or perhaps that he himself was. She still didn’t know what had happened to him the dawn their new guests arrived, but she allowed him to hold her a little too tightly, and to kiss her so deeply she could scarcely breathe. Her own hands went to press him closer, legs wrapping around his hips to surround him with her body in any way she could. He shuddered in her embrace, and she too trembled at having her lover back in her arms. His absence had only made her heart grow more anxious, more uncertain of her lover. She clung more tightly to him.

Eventually they broke apart for air, only for him to bury his face in the crook of her neck, breath hot and ragged against the skin there. His mouth trailed down her throat like a man starved, teeth and lips ravenous against her skin. His hands pushed artlessly at her chemise, pressing it upwards to bare more skin to the touch of his rough hands. He seemed unwilling to let go of her long enough to free her from it completely - nor was she particularly wont to let him go. They merely shifted her linens out of the way and fell back together. He clung to her fiercely as skin met skin, heated and wanting. His mouth was a searing brand against her breasts and ribs as Jane’s fingers gripped tightly at his hair. Desire curled hot and fierce within her belly.

Fingers trailed down to find her aching and ready for him, as she nearly had been since she placed the blindfold around her eyes earlier. He pressed into her in one powerful thrust, pulled in by the effort of Jane’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Though she desired it greatly, she still staggered at the sudden fullness of it, gasping for air even as his lips returned to hers. Her errant lover held still at first, his greed for her temporarily soothed at being held so deeply within her, at her hands and heels digging brutally into his flesh. He moved slowly at first, finding it as unbearable to pull back from her as she found it to let him go, but gradually the pace built between them at her cries for more. His hips fell into a merciless rhythm as she clawed at the muscles of his back, pulling him deeper within her at each thrust.

But the flame that burns twice as bright cannot last half so long, and Jane could feel his began to stutter in their rhythm. She felt a hand slip between them, hastening her towards her own peak. She cried out at the ferocity of it, at the quaking of her entire body around his. She felt the world darken a little from beneath her blindfold, and shuddered at the intensity of the waves that still rocked her. Jane barely felt him reach his own completion, only that he pulled away to collapse beside her with shuddering breath and trembling limbs.

****

Her husband had fallen asleep before Jane, something he had never done before - if, in fact, he had ever slept here at all. Or perhaps he never slept, as phantoms were said not to. 

She had not been given the chance to ask him her question this night, though she realized that now was her chance to discover the answer on her own. She gently peeled off her blindfold with tremulous fingers, blinking into the darkness of the room. 

The fire had already died down to embers, and no real light penetrated the canopy of their bed, even when she drew aside the curtains. The moon, too, was set on thwarting her plans, being in that part of its monthly cycle in which no shining glow was cast back down from her face. Her husband was no less shadow to her now than he had been to her before, and Jane was unable to so much as make out the shape of him beneath covers beside her.

But she would not be deterred. She slipped carefully from the bed in her chemise, and walked blindly to where she knew the ancient candelabra to be. Plucking a single candle from the wrought iron frame, she held its wick to the dying embers at the edge of the hearth. It took many long moments, and for a while seemed as though it might not work at all - until finally the candle took light. 

She crept back to where her sleeping lover lay, and cast the small light over his form. As soon as the light touched him, the secret of their bed was made plain. Her husband was no monster, but instead beautifully human - fair of face and strong of limb. Her eyes traced over the features that her fingers and lips had tried to map unseeing and unknowing, but she could not have fully imagined before how handsome his face, how sweet and rich his dark curls, how the musculature of his form would delight her so. She brought the candle closer, to better look her fill.

Carried away in her exploration, she did not notice how long she lingered over her husband’s naked form, until the wax of the candle had already begun to melt. And either through the cruelty of fate, or as punishment for her own curiosity, a single drop of hot wax fell to her husband’s shoulder, waking him instantly.

And in that moment he was transformed. Not to any beast she had ever seen or heard of, but something far more monstrous. His dark shape nearly filled the room, taking on only the barest outline of a horse but of tremendous size and untamed strength. The behemoth reared up and bayed at a volume that shook her very bones, breath hot and putrid against her barely concealed figure and she feared the heavy hooves might land on her. And in whatever remained of the candlelight she caught a glimpse of its teeth - sharper than any horses’ and stained red with blood. 

This was no ordinary beast but some nightmare creature cast from hell’s gates. Jane found she lost all courage at the sight of her husband’s metamorphosis.

She ran.

[lolitastories]

BLACK AND BLOOD

Y/N L/N is the daughter of the Great Khal Drogo although she was raised by the king of the unknown lands. After finding out he died she travels and finds the one who caused his death. Along this adventure she meets the mother of dragons. Jon Snow. Night walkers. We will see if she really has the Dothraki blood flowing through her veins.

Chapter 3:

We come up to the royal guards trailing behind and making sure every crop and gold gets to kingslanding. “Don’t let another wagon move an inch!” I scream to the Dothraki. The horses rush fastly towards the soldier standing now guard with their spears and shields. The army’s in line as we make contact with them. Daenerys can be heard above with Drogon. His fiery breath fires from above down to her enemies. All you can hear now is our screams while we take care of the soilders and the soilders scream as the fire burns them to dust. Men on both sides are being slaughtered. A second wave of Dothraki Screamers ride in. They switch from a seated position to standing atop their saddles shooting bow and arrow. While fighting a soilder I notice Daenerys being shot at. “Malakho! Get rid of him” I scream in Dothraki and motion to the crossbow that was being used. I moved behind him taking care of the soldiers that tried getting in his way.

“Aren’t you something?” His sword swings over my head and when he comes around I stop him with my arakh. Push him back, regaining my balance. I aimed towards him with force as he did the same but his only fault was that he wasn’t fast enough. I look over to find Drogon on the ground. I run towards him but the flames throw me to the ground. I stand up feeling a sting on my ribs. Darn.

“Need to get you back” Lasdar on my people tows a horse my way and helps me on. “I will make sure the queens get back safely” I trust him. He hushers my horse to move. I didn’t notice that the soldier made contact with me. I closed my eyes once or twice and I can’t remember now where I was headed. Everything was a blurr. Maybe it was because of the loss of blood or because the night was falling and I had no way to see. I fell apart when the horse finally came to a halt.

“Couldn’t go without any drama could you?” a faint smile crossed my face until blackness overtook me.

“Why didn’t you go? They would have never happened!”

“Oh come on, she is old enough to take care of herself. Look! She made it back in one piece”

“Yeah and a cut that might have cut her in two!”

“Can yall both shut up” I groan feeling the wrap around my waist. “What did they say? Am I going to die?” I sit up and notice my siblings staring at me. “What?”

“You are an idoit. Why did you have to go into the fight when you knew it was 10 against 1. You weren’t needed there” I grab the first thing I could find and throw it at my brother's head.

“Out!”

“No! You will listen to us, if father finds out you almost died-”

“I almost didn't die! It's not like this hasn’t happened before. And he knows that there is that risk that I might not return home”

“Yeah well he made us promise to make sure nothing happened if we could stop it” of course he did. Of course he would be the one to make them promise to make sure if anyone had to die first it would be them. “So don’t put yourself in this situation if you can help it or next time take us with you!” Our attention moves to the knock on the door. “Come in”

“I wanted to see how you were doing” Daenerys comes in as Tyrion trails behind her. Joia and Grisill excuse themselves out.

“Much better” the wound hurts but how can it not. I have lived through this pain before. “But I am sure that wasn’t the only reason you stopped by.” Don’t get me wrong I understand she likes me but she has more serious things she needs to worry about other than me.

“You saved me from Dothraki rebels and fought alongside me to take back my throne overseas. The Unsullied and Dothraki are more your people than mine. They follow your lead. I need your help with something. Jon got a message from Winterfell and the so-called Night king and his army are marching towards Eastwatch.”

“Jon has agreed to bring one along for us and Cersei to see a real night walker. I will be going to King's Landing to make that agreement with my brother Jaime” I am waiting for Tyrion to continue or Daenerys to get to the point on how she needs my help. “Davos is coming with me and Jorah is going with Jon.” They both look at each other and somehow agree on Daenerys to tell me what the request is.

“I need you to travel back with Jon and the unsullied. Not one of our people will travel north of the wall but if he is speaking the truth and soon he becomes an allie we will atleast cast trust on the northerners”

“What if the queen denies the request and attacks dragonstone when we are not here?”

“You will see a dragon flying above and bring back the unsullied” This is a horrible plan. She was the first one to not want to do anything but give the dragonstone to Jon if he wasn’t going to bend the knee. Now she wants to send an army to protect the north from the undead. “You don't have to to cross the wall with them, just stay in the castle and wait for them to come back’’

‘‘Go to Winterfell. Keep a lookout for a dragon flying around. Wait for Jon to show back up and hope Cercesi accepts to meet, what can go wrong?’’ They both nod. The pain is bearable. I put on my clothes and pack to leave. I don’t tell my siblings anything again knowing damn well if I do they would fall behind me.

‘‘I heard you got hurt’’ I turned to look back, seeing Jon walking up to me. The men can be seen packing up the ship. Food and most importantly dragonglass.

‘‘Yes, one of the queen's soldiers got to me’’

‘‘You are going to need more than those clothes to keep you warm‘’ I look down at my clothes letting a chuckle escape

‘‘Don’t worry about me, I have experience in the cold’’ he walks closer to me taking hold of my hands.

‘‘I don’t have experience or know anything about your land but I can assure you, nothing will be colder than the winters in Winterfell and you run warm’’ right now i am running warm. I hope he can’t see the pink shade in my cheeks, what is happening? I mean i am not stupid but there is no way this guy has made me feel more things than the man i fell in love with 5 years ago when I was 15.

‘‘Well I hope that the King of Winterfell is kind enough to lend me some warmth’’ My eyes move from our hands to his eyes. ‘‘I meant clothes’’ I smile feeling nervous start to raise

‘‘Of course Princess’’

‘‘Begging your pardon, Your Grace. Princess’’ Our hands move away hearing Davos' voice. He is alongside a young man.

‘‘You survived King's Landing.’’ Jon answers. I step back but don’t move far as there’s a hold on belt. I look down noticing Jon’s hand.

‘‘Yet again’’ Davos laughs. ‘‘Your Grace, this is—’’ The young man steps forward in front of Davos extending his hand

‘‘It's Gendry, Your Grace. I'm Robert Baratheon's son. Bastard son.’’ Jon shakes his hand as I just smile awkwardly just standing a little back from Jon

‘‘We was meant to keep that to himself.’’ Davos tried to add but I new that didn’t matter when he mention that part

‘‘Our fathers trusted each other. Why shouldn't we?’’ I felt as the young man Gentry was talking it was something I wasn’t supposed to be here for

‘‘I saw your father once at Winterfell.’’ Jon keeps a straight face. I moved my hand towards his yanking my belt away but that only got him to get a hold of my hand.

‘‘I met yours in my shop.’’

‘‘You're a lot leaner.’’

‘‘You're a lot shorter.’’Jon stops smiling and pauses a moment. Then he chuckles.

‘‘I grew up on stories about them.’’ It made my heart feel nice to hear Jon speak about something other than hurt about his life. I wonder if he had more nice stories to tell

‘‘All I ever knew was they fought together and won. Ser Davos told me where you're going, Your Grace, and why. Let me come with you.’’ Jon looks back at me seeing my expression. This was his move. This man was asking to join him, it wouldn’t affect me in any way.

‘‘Don't be a fool. You're not a soldier.’’ Davos butts in

‘‘No, but I'm a fighter. And he won't be needing a smith with a sword like that.’’

‘‘Do you know how to use one?’’ The young man shakes his head ‘‘Well, that's a problem.’’

‘‘I prefer a hammer.’’ Jon smiles at him, agreeing to have him join as a blacksmith and if he wishes,a soldier soon enough. They both walk away to the ship leaving Jon and I alone again. I take this opportunity as he stays frozen looking at the castle to move closer. I don’t press myself against his back but close enough to hear his breathing.

‘‘Is there a reason you keep holding my hand?’’ My head now reaches up to whisper in his ear. I couldn’t help but grin. I see his eyes close pushing his head back a little and taking a deep breath

‘‘I had to keep you close to make sure the new guy wasn’t a threat’’ I laugh a little. ‘The mother of dragons allowed one of her advisers to come along with me, I have to do my job and keep you safe’’ He turns around enterwining our hands. My breathing was unsteady now and his eyes have never looked more beautiful.

‘‘You should go hold Jorah's hand too then, I can assure you he needs more protection than me’’ it was his turn to laugh.

‘‘Humor me’’ my smile fades and I back up. I let go of his hand.

“We should get going. The faster we get there the faster we come back” I turn around standing by the boat waiting for the rest to come. Mormont can be seen kissing Daenerys before he departs towards me. Tyrion standing beside her like always. Jon walks forward talking to her.

“Glad to see you in better shape” I smile at Jorah.

“Me too” He laughs “You know I met your father before” I give him a questioning look. “I never said anything because he asked me not to.” He turns towards me, almost casting over my body. “I was the one who delivered the message of Khals death to the castle. Khal told me to find you before he died and lead his men with Daenerys after his death”

“How come I never heard about this?” anger started to raise. This would have made things simpler yet I don’t know if it would have. I trust Jorah now but back then he was just a stranger. If he would have told me this I wouldn’t have believed him. It would happen like it did, I came and tried to kill Daenerys until everyone including my own brother advised me against it. She told me how it happened and I choose to believe her and everyone else but yet I can’t help but still not trust her.

“Your father chose it would be best. He said you always had a way with people. You always trust your gut and that somehow everythings always goes your way” I smile

“He likes to say the gods are the only ones who can keep up with me. When I was younger he prayed to the gods to look after me becasue he had a feeling nobody in this lifetime could''

“He mentioned something about your stubbornes” yes. That is what he called all my antics. “I'm glad you chose to help Daenerys. Yes she has three dragons but she needed people like you and Tyrion beside her” There is sadness in his voice. I know things werent as good with him and her but the only thing he wants now is for her to be happy.

“And your Jorah. I know she missed you”

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[missglaskin]

Hear me out, Theon being yandere for Robb's twin sister. Theon has been in love with her for years and hoping Ned would let them get married one day but Kat was very much against it.

She stays behind at Winterfell instead of going to Kingslanding and then when her brother goes to war she stays behind again to care for her younger brothers. When Theon captures Winterfell he finally has reader in his hands and he's never letting go of her

Theon could have had any woman. Plenty of them would fall to his feet to have his attention. But Theon didn’t want any of them. He wanted you. For years, he did. You were beautiful and fierce, qualities he craved in a woman. As much as you treated him with gentleness, you were not afraid of scolding him.

Growing up, he dreamed of the day when he would marry you in a silk dress. But your mother was fiercely protective of you, she wouldn't hand over her eldest daughter to a Greyjoy. This greatly wounded his ego.

And it made him clench his fists when you would refer to him as a ‘brother’. For nights to come, Theon spent them with whores. Finding any who would resemble you the most. 

When Theon sailed for the Iron Islands with the message from Robb, he thought of taking you behind your brother’s back. Make you his salt wife. By the time your brother discovers the news, it would be too late. The chance may not have presented itself now, but it presented itself when he encountered you at Winterfell after he captured it. 

While he would not hesitate to force you to be his there and then, you begging for your brother's lives was an opportunity not to be missed. He ignores maester Luwin’s pleadings as he weds you to him. Your lungs filled with smoke under the rain. Theon then drags you into the chambers that once belonged to the lord and lady of Winterfell. He eagerly tears off your clothes as he tells you how long he has been waiting for this day.

[gay-dorito-dust]

would you be able to do an aemond x reader where she's high born and good at fighting etc and defends aemond by threatening others

A/n: this was incredibly rushed, no solid idea seem to stick to my brain, like at all. Also this is me choosing to make Ser Criston Cole even more of a dickhead.

“A highborn should never dirty their hands, there are those who are more then willing to make a name for themselves.” Was your parents response when you voiced your desire to pick up a sword. They saw it unbecoming and a hindrance towards potential suitors from more predominant houses such as House Targaryen and House Stark. Your parents counsel didn’t deter you from going behind their backs and descend to the training grounds dressed as a man; For had you went as yourself, the knights would be inclined to go easier on you or outright deny you the chance to train in due to your gender.

However those days were forcibly drawn to a close once you were sent off to your new home at the Red Keep in KingsLanding. Yet that didn’t meant you couldn’t descend to the courtyard every morning to watch Aemond train with Ser Criston Cole from the archway. To everyone in attendance you were just fulfilling your duty as the future wife of the young prince by being supportive. You manage to have everyone fooled, everyone except for Aemond, who noticed a sadness in your eyes as though you were mourning the missing part of your heart as blades cross in a flash of silver; He even took note of how you’d instinctively rub at certain spots of your arms when he managed to nick his opponent as though you were expecting the same pain. Or as though old wounds were reopening upon a sense of old memories resurfacing. Needless to say he grew curious about the contents of the habits you indulge in your spare time.

Aemond seemed to be so caught up in his thoughts that he almost forgot that he was still in the training grounds until Ser Criston Cole managed to take advantage of this and disarm him swiftly. “Had this been a proper battle my prince, you would’ve been slain on multiple occasions.” The knights eyes shifted over to the archway where you stood, cross armed and all before they shifted back to Aemond who’s jaw clenched at the implications that Criston was placing upon you. “It’s best to not be distracted by menial things.” Criston said with a carefree tone that told Aemond that he did not care for what was to happen to him as he was intentionally trying to provoke him. Aemond’s anger didn’t quell silently as it only boiled beneath his skin, like the raging lava of a dormant volcano ready to burst forth in blinding fury.

Meanwhile you were unfazed by the knights comments. It was blatantly obvious that he never felt the genuine loving touch of a woman despite coming from one. You genuinely wondered what his poor mother would think if she were to see her son making a fool out of himself and his family name; You certainly wouldn’t stand for it and you’d like to believe that neither would she. Aemond knew how to handle these sorts of situations himself, so you refrained from intervening in something that ‘didn’t involve you’ when it clearly did given Criston’s unsubtle and unprovoked jab. Neither you nor Aemond wanted to give the man any satisfaction whatsoever. Yet you noted in the way Aemond held the handle of his word, he was clearly close to severing Ser Criston’s tongue from his mouth.

“Don’t be provoked by him Aemond, the man speaks with a mouthful of shit.” You told the prince, causing a brief chuckle to pass his lips at your crude words. See Criston however didn’t find this as hilarious, “your foul mouthed bitch needs to keep her trap shut. It’s unbecoming of a lady,” he pauses to laugh nastily, “though then again if I were to say, it seems that between you and her, she’s more of a man then you are to speak to others in such a manor.” The small smile gracing Aemond’s face was quickly wiped clean off in exchange for one of pure anger. The courtyard that heard Criston, fell silent. You on the other hand, finally had enough of sitting on the sidelines and decided to step up to defend your husband to be; Marching up to Aemond and snatching his sword from his hand before quickly knocking Ser Criston’s feet out from under him, causing him to fall backwards on his arse and then poising the end of Aemond’s blade at his throat.

“My Aemond is more of a man then you’ll ever be,” you hissed venously, “you should be gracious that I don’t cut your tongue out right here and now for your impudence behaves should the current circumstances been any different, I’d make certain to drag your decaying carcass to the dragonpits to be fed upon.” You leaned closer to his face, pressing the blades tip just underneath his chin, “do I make myself clear Ser Criston.” “Crystal clear Lady y/n.” The knight merely murmured under his breath, embarrassed that he had gotten overwhelmed by a woman in front of an audience who would certainly let word spread throughout KingsLanding and beyond. He could already envision the smug smirks upon both Daemon and Rhaenyra’s faces which only made his blood boil even more. You smirked, having this fight won with ease whilst high on Ser Criston’s humiliation.

“Good, I would offer a hand but I feel as though your more suited right where you are.” You said snidely before looking back at Aemond who’s only eye beamed with pride as you expertly handed over his sword. “You didn’t inform me that you were well versed in the art of the sword my dearly betrothed.” He says as he sheaths his sword and escorting you back into the Red Keep, “Though I must say, It would’ve ruined the surprise had I known beforehand.” He adds. “Highborns aren’t meant to take up the sword but I always found swordsmanship to be quite the therapeutic stress reliever.” You responded, beaming with self pride and relief that Aemond didn’t think of you any less because of it. “Then perhaps we should train together sometime?” The prince inquired. You smiled as you reached for his calloused hand, “only if you won’t become a sore loser when I hand your royal ass to you.” Aemond couldn’t help but laugh at your pride as he stopped you to lean on close to your face. “If that’s your way of claiming a challenge my beloved,” he says in his velvety soft voice that housed a hint of mischief, “then I accept wholeheartedly.”

[pinkydevil16]

Sunshine Aemond Targaryen x reader: part 22

Y/n did not leave Halaena's side as she grieved, her sister going deeper into herself and refusing to let anyone near her children. Y/n felt herself grieving for her sister, Aemond came by regularly to check on his wife and sister, Aegon could not face his wife. He did not drink, engaging only with those who could plan his attack on the blacks, he wanted their unpure blood to run through the streets of kingslanding. It would take time to plan as they needed to grow more support and build their army's the same as Rhaenyra, Aegon wanted to burn through dragonstone. Aemond felt the same, he did not trust anyone to be around his family, Y/n and Halaena sleeping in the same chambers with guards at every post. Aemond barely slept as he waited for another attack, the lords advice on war was not what he wished to hear, he wanted to lay waste to dragonstone and all the people supporting Rhaenyra. 

Y/n's stomach began to show more as the moons rose and fell, she was 8 months along when the war finally began to take charge of the families. Aemond had trained many new soldiers, allies coming from across westeros to show their support as many did for Rhaenyra too. Aemond flew often around kingslanding, calling out in high valerian daring a black to strike whilst he preyed from above, Cannibal would often take flights with Vhagar a menacing dark shadow with no rider protecting kingslanding. 

Aegon sent his army to Harenhaal to begin destroying any supporters of Rhaenyra, within three days of burning and killing the lords villages, people and live stock Rhaenyra finally responded to her allies begs to help him. Rhaenys was sent with her dragon to help fight the army, the graceful older woman burning at Aegon's soldiers. Aemond smirked as he flew Vhagar down, her large claws dragging along the red dragons back as SunFyre descended from the skies. The two dragons roared at Rhaenys before ripping into her dragon, Rhaenys fought as much as she could but the two dragons were too much. Aegon felt immense pride as Rhaenys and her dragon lay in a burning pile, they did not leave without injuries but it satisfied him greatly to see the traitorous woman burn. Aemond knew the message they were sending was one of mass destruction, and in that moment all he saw was his wife and child safe without fear of the blacks. Aegon had sustained few injuries but SunFyre's wing was almost ripped completely on one side, the dragon still flying as well as one could without fully having a wing. Vhagar a few deep cuts but she was a war dragon, this was her path and she could do it whilst blinded without fear. 

The two drank heavily that night, Aegon finally finding himself  able to face Halaena, his sister could not find comfort in him but he tried his best. Holding her close and promising her he would keep their children safe until his last dying breath, the two sleeping in peace together for perhaps the first time in their marriage. Aemond returned to Y/n, he smelt of smoke and blood, allowing her to wash him clean and tend to his minor wounds. A loving smile on her face as she was happy he avenged their lost nephew, she had become hardened watching Halaena grieve for her son in such a sorrowful way. 

"I will burn this world down before i allow someone to hurt you or our child." He whispered into her hair, his hand holding her swollen stomach as they cuddled under the sheets, legs tangled together. Y/n brought his hand to her mouth, kissing his palm and placing it back on her growing stomach.

"I love you more than anything Aemond, please keep yourself safe i cannot bare to raise this child without you. I will not do it, i will not live without you. I beg of you to be careful, you sustained only minor injuries but Vhagar is not invincible." Y/n kissed him gently turning back and cuddling into him, his body heat warming her nicely and lulling her to sleep. She felt whole again sleeping next to him, for moons now she had felt alone without him close by. The victory of war bringing him back to her, something she could not agree with wholly but she could not say she was unhappy with their decisions. 

Daemon was furious as he arrived at Harenhaal, the burnt body of the Queen who never was next to Meleyes, the red dragon ripped to pieces from the brutal attack. Caraxes circled the battlefield before returning to dragonstone, Daemon marching through the halls until he arrived to his wife. Rhaenyra looking up from her battle plans saw her husbands harsh features, an eyebrow raising in question of his anger.

"That usurper cunt and one eyed bastard have killed Rhaenys and Meleyese." He shouted as he threw down his helmet, they had not heard from Harenhaal 3 nights after Rhaenys left and without her returning Aemond had gone to see what was taking so long, only to be met with blood and fire. Rhaenyra scowled as she dismissed the Lords and advisors, clutching Daemon's face and placing her forehead on his. The two breathing until Daemon calmed enough to explain what he had heard from the people left after the battle and his own eyes, Rhaenyra sighed going over to her battle plans. Removing and altering it to fit what she now had at her disposal, they would have to inform Corlys of his wife's demise which would surely spur him to be irrational. 

"We need to kill Aemond and Vhagar. We have little options left." She declared as she moved her pieces into position, a perfect plan to bombard him. 

"What about Y/n and her beast?" Daemon spat out, reaching to collect the largest piece they had not placed, putting it beside Aemond's.

"I hear news she is pregnant, almost ready to birth the babe. Aemond took my daughter, almost took my son and so we took Aegon's son. It seems only fair he lose a child too." She pushed the large piece onto the floor, she did not see Y/n as a threat if she were to be grieving a babe and a husband she would most likely die a dragon riders death. Daemon's eyebrow rose slightly, since Rhaenyra lost their daughter she had become malicious and cruel, he did not find it unappealing, she was revealing her true self and she was the true queen he wanted on the throne. 

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[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Honor him. Younger Mercenary Oberyn Martell x f!reader fanfic. #Writer Wednesday 05/26/2021

Summary: You receive the worst news, Oberyn Martell died, your first lover and the first adventure you lived.

Once when you were younger you ran away from your house escaping an unhappy engagement and the promise of a dull life. But your family hired an elite force of mercenaries to find you not knowing that their leader is a Prince of Dorne.

Word count: 6,5k (ups sorry)

Warning: Blood, violence, Oberyn’s death is mentioned as canon in the book and show, Ophidiophobia(fear of snakes), unhappy arranged marriage, alcohol. +18 SMUT (it means no minors, pls) virgen f!reader, oral sex (f¡ receiving descriptive, male receiving mentioned) p in v sex (unprotected cos there’s no durex in Essos BUT USE PROTECTION IN REAL LIFE PEOPLE) grieving.

A/N: I'M SORRY I'M LATE this is for #Writer Wednesday, the challenge created by @autumnleaves1991-blog

I read the books a long time ago, yep, I’m one of those people that said “I’ll finish them when George publish them all” so I got ASOIAF wiki and run with it, so buckle up for some bad geography from Essos and inaccurate cultural stuff. I think this is the longest thing I’ve written and the smuttiest, so sorry if it’s cringy.

Honor him

“Apparently he won the combat but the wounds were too severe and he died”

You raise your eyes from the book. One of the young servants whispers to another collecting the dead leaves on the ground.

“What is it?”

They rise from the ground nervously expecting that you will scold them for gossiping

“We heard the news from the world. A bard was chanting them on the market, my lady” she approaches the fountain; you’re seated on the ceramic tile, feet inside the water, refreshing from the blazing sun in this part of Essos.

“And what did he say?”

“He said there was a trial in Kingslanding. For the death of king Joffrey, and it was his cousin...”

“His uncle, the imp” clarifies the other and the other girl rolls her eyes

“Yes, his uncle was on trial for his murder. And Prince Oberyn from Dorne was his champion”

“The imp asked for a trial by combat, you see, my lady” adds the other

“He battled the Mountain; he crushed the prince’s skull apparently”

“But! but! His blade had poison on it so the Mountain died too” says the other girl excitedly

“Oberyn died?” you mutter, your hands are limp and you don’t realize that you have drop your book until you hear the “blop” sound in the water and it splashed your tunic

Your mind travels to years past in an instant: A journey through the vast empty lands of this continent and how you loved for the first time.

The pages of your book are getting more and more transparent while the black trickles of ink disappear in the water. You wish to scream, to rip your clothes and your hair out of your scalp but you do nothing.

“Are you alright, my lady?” the girls look at each other when you don’t move or try to retrieve your book from the water.

You always thought the greatest pain he gave you was leaving you at your father’s door many years ago, but now he’s gone forever. You always thought, while looking from your window at night, that you will see him one day, coming back on his dark horse ready to steal you away again, but now that he’s dead that small hope, that tiny flame that you kept in your heart is gone.

Your childish hopes and dreams of reviving your first love are shattered. It’s true that your life has changed, you’re a grown woman now, wiser and experience but you still fantasize over him, seeing his face and his hands on your lovers.

“We should call physician” you heard them whisper, but so far away

“Where is he anyway?”

“At his clinic, you silly girl, run”

“You do not need to call him” you mutter “I’m fine. Excuse me”

Not caring for splashing water all over the house, you run to your chambers and collapse into your bed. Buried in the soft pillows, you cried, muffling your howls with them so nobody could hear. Late in the night the moon and stars shine bright casting bluish shadows in your room.

Your body is tired but restless and in the night shade a timid ray of white light illuminates that small scar in your forearm in the shape of a half-moon. And you kiss it, at least you will always have something of his carved in your skin.

Many years ago. Essos.

“You’re cheating, boy” the big man slams the table, the wooden pieces and the coins that all the players have laid at the center fall down. He points at you spitting from a mouth full of crooked black teeth “Show me your arms, boy, I know you’re lying”

“I’m just lucky, sir” you raise your blouse’s sleeves and your arms up innocently and somehow it makes him angrier

He insults you in whatever language he speaks and slams the table up, the players run and the loud tavern suddenly gets quite, waiting for the next movement. You’re an ant in front of that enormous giant, when he stands tall and walks menacingly towards you, you freeze, he doesn’t listen to you when you apologize, it doesn’t matter anyway, you just did to gain time and look for an exit but the room is too crowded.

“Here, boy, I’ve also many tricks under my sleeve” he has a dirty bag hanging from his belt and takes it and throws it at you. It lands at your feet and for a second you smirk not knowing what a bag could do to you, but then it moves and in a blur you see a green and yellow thing twisting until you feel it pressing and slithering over your body. The snake, a beautiful, shiny creature with vibrant colors faces you hissing and shows its fangs. Everything happens to fast. Out of instinct you protect your face with your arms and the animal understands this as a threat and it bites. The pain rings like a bell all over your body every nerve in your body aflame.

In a second, cold blood wets your face and you gasp when you see the snake’s head slide to the side separated from its body with a clean cut.

“I’m sorry for the demise of your little friend” A tall lean man stands beside the giant. You can’t see his face, since he’s covered with black turban and his body is in full armor. One of his arms still holds a curved sword that has snake blood on it; the other has a dagger pointed to your enemy’s neck.

“That viper was worth more than you or your little friend and you will pay for it”

“I doubt it. You know my little friend here” and he points his sword to you “it’s worth a lot and if I don’t tend to her wound rapidly she will die and that’s a shame. So, decide now, do you want to be a setback or do you want to keep living your stinky life longer?”

By brute force, the giant decides his fate and tries to disarm the man who in a swift movement cuts his throat and his blood and destiny joints that of his pet.

“You’ve been quite difficult to find, child” he opens the fabric covering his face. His eyes are dark, dark beard covers his defined jaw line and an amused smirk graces his handsome face. “Let me see that arm” he lowers his weapons, shamelessly cleaning his dagger on the back of the dead tall man and walks to you until your back is pressed against one of the tavern columns. Sheathing his sword, his hand takes yours and raises your arm, evaluating the wound and he hums deeply “Oh, sweet child”

“Am I going to die?” you cry

“Probably”

“If it’s my father who commands you to find me, I beg you to let me die; I do not wish to go back. Death is better than that dreadful place” you shake your head determined but terrified at the same time. He looks at you with his brow troubled

“Death is never better than anything” and he drags your arm to his face. His dark gaze fix on you while he sucks on the wound so hard that for a moment you think he’s drinking your life away. But then he lets you go and spits to the ground “Let’s hope that’s enough. You will come with me so I can give you the antidote”

“I told you, I have no desire to return to my home”

“It’s a pity, then, that I don’t care about that” he grins.

He gave you so many small jars to drink. Some tasted sweet some bitter and some other made you want to vomit and not drink or eat ever again. But you’re alive. A few hours passed, and then a day, then two, and you’re irrevocably getting back home.

You’ve learnt that your father, in an attempt to find you, has commissioned this elite group of mercenaries to retrieve you; and he’s the leader. It’s a small company but that doesn’t make them any less dangerous. All of them seemed to have many different skills, weapons hidden at every corner of their body, they speak languages you don’t know and you ride your horse tied to it watching each one of them with a suspicious look. After two days riding with them you have decided that there’s no way you could escape now. There’s always one of them standing guard and just a small glare your way gets every thought of escaping out of your head. So, even if it’s dramatic, you decided that your best option is to die. A few days in the desert without water and food and your father will receive a corpse.

“Drink, little girl, you’re withering like a flower” the leader, the man that saved you, says handing you the waterskin

“No, thank you” you turn your head, seated under the shadow of a very thin and dry bush. The orange and violet light announces the immanent sunset where you have stopped for the day.

“You’ve been refusing water all day. You have to drink” he says and pushes the waterskin to your face once more.

“No, thank you” you repeat and he sighs. Thinking you’ve won as he throws the waterskin by his side, you smile subtly until he’s close, crouched down, knees over the sand, looking at you.

“Maybe being a spoiled little flower works for your father, but not to me. Drink or I will make you” He takes your chin and raises it to meet his eyes

“I’m not thirsty” you say, your lips are already dry and they hurt, your tongue is thick inside your mouth and your body screams for just one drop.

“Don’t challenge me, child” he lowers his voice and you gulp

“I’m not a child” you protest, he keeps calling you that and honestly you don’t think he’s much older that you

“Then why do you behave like one? Drink, for the last time” His mouth is a fine line now and his grip on your chin is a little bit firmer

When you don’t answer he opens the waterskin and tucking on your lower lip he pours a small trickle of water in your mouth. The liquid taste sweet, your body works on it own and you open your mouth to drink more with desperation.

“So you weren’t thirsty...stubborn girl” he smirks and you want to slap his smug and beautiful face

He stops pouring water and laughs when you rise up drinking the last drops before he puts the cap on it.

“Look at you, not a withering flower anymore” the mercenary brushes his knuckles over you cheek and you feel them burn “What else do you want?” his thumb caress your chin gathering the small drops of water on your skin and spreads it over your lower lip.

You feel your bones burning, a tension in your lower belly that you haven’t feel many times and that makes you ask for something you don’t even know, so you just answer a timid yes and let him guide you to the fire and the rest of the company.

One of the mercenary is skinning some rabbits, methodically pulling the skin off with blood hands and a deathly gaze fix on you “So she decided to join us” she says

“Oberyn can be really persuasive” another, a big bald man with a beard tinted in blue, adds

So his name is Oberyn, where have you heard that name before?

“Remember that her father is paying for the whole of her, untouched he said” a lean blonde woman, with her face full of black and blue tattoos, is lounged over the bags sharpening her knives

“Well, I hope he doesn’t see her arm, that viper left her with a beautiful scar” Oberyn sits down and helps the mercenary skinning the animals and impales them and puts them to roast on the fire

“I’m not talking about that kind of viper...” she says and the company laughs

“I’m right here” they stop laughing looking at you as if you have done something they deem impossible

“So she speaks” the bearded man says

“She does but it may take some convincing” Oberyn smiles at you over the flames that illuminate his striking and sharp features “If you wish to eat, sweet flower, why don’t tell us how did you escape? We love a good story while we camp”

“Your father was convinced some ragged boy had stole you from your palace” adds the blonde woman

You smile, feeling some kind of pride for your plan, that, looking at it from perspective, did not grant you what you wanted but at least you had a good run. You tell them about how you disguised as a ragged boy lurking a few nights prior your escape so that the servants suspected about somebody being guilty of your disappearing. And how you ran away the night of your betrothal and made it look as if somebody had kidnapped you.

“I ran out of money in Lys so I had to beg, or steal, or gamble for a few coins. And then you found me” you finish your tale, sucking on your fingers, the meat is the best you ever tasted but yet again it must be the hunger from this days refusing to eat or drink.

“I’m almost tempted to let you go, young one, you seem a very resourceful girl” the beard man that you now know as Uhlan smiles at you proudly

“Think about the money” the blonde woman, Rikan, chew on a bone and toss it to the fire

“I’m always thinking about it, why do you think I’m a sellsword?” he jests

“Because you were a street rat with a broad back as broad as your stupidity and it’s the only thing you can do” Rikan spits and Uhlan laughs, a deep and low chuckle that resonates as a thunder.

“She’s a little princess, she couldn’t have survived much longer” the other woman, Shifa adds, the rest of the company has changed the way they look at you, but her. She still squints at you

“There’re princes that have survived worse” Uhlan counters and suddenly there’s a heavy and uncomfortable silence over them. You look at all of them trying to understand and you see Oberyn looking at his feet until he claps his hands together “Let’s get some sleep, we have a long way ahead”

It’s surprising what food, water and company can achieve. You’re smiling more, you almost forget that you will be delivered to your father and future husband within days, Uhlan tells you about his many adventures, how he almost die in Yiti, how he rode once with a Khalassar and that he had seen the great shadow in the East. Rikan has gifted you a knife “a girl needs to defend herself” she said and proceed to show you how to kill a man in many different ways “If you want to kill your husband though, you must ask Oberyn, he’s the one that knows about poisons and how to kill somebody without raising suspicions”

“How does he know that?” you ask, leaning to the right so you get close to her horse, Oberyn rides beside Shifa before you; both of them speaking in a language you don’t understand

“He has studied many things; he’s been all over the world. He was almost a Maester once, but preferred to travel, fight and fuck the world before he gets back to his duties”

“Duties?”

“He’s a prince” she whispers a mischievous smile on her lips “he doesn’t want to talk about it, because it makes people treat him differently or underestimate him. So don’t tell him it was me, blame the big rat”

“Did somebody call me?” Uhlan screams at the back

“You do have a sharp ear when you want, my friend”

You arrive to Myr at dusk. The city is still vibrating, the merchants offering everything you could imagine and the streets smell like thousands spices. And you absorb it all with wide eyes and open mouth.

“It’s a beautiful world, my sweet flower, and you wanted to end your life” Oberyn raises his voice over the people chatting and selling stuff

“If only it could always be like this” you answer, your smile dies in your mouth remembering this is a passing thing. The adventure will be over soon.

“Life gives us many opportunities to dwell in its pleasures; you have only to acquire a keen eye to recognize the perfect moment to seize it”

“Are you implying that I will have another chance to escape?” you scoff

“Maybe...if that is what you want or maybe to enjoy your life as a married woman, who knows”

You sigh deeply trying to ignore the thoughts about your future husband, that drunken bastard, boring and dull that your father chose.

“Or you could run away and avoid your responsibilities; you can create your own destiny, my sweet flower”

“And that’s what you are doing? Avoiding your duties?” you stop in your tracks and he watches you for a moment, chewing on his lower lip

“Maybe” he answers finally

“I’m tired of being treated as if I was overreacting being a spoiled child while you are here doing exactly what I did, ran away, from the duties of a noble life. I’m not overreacting; all I want is to decide if I want to live my life bearing children for my fool husband and maybe die giving birth or out of boredom and disappointment or try my luck in the wild world. Isn’t that what you are doing? Travel, fight and fuck the world? What’s the difference between me and you?” The people surround you, the company has already enter the tavern in front of you knowing they shouldn’t meddle

“Travel, fight and fuck the world seem a pretty good title for a book. Maybe when I’m old I will write my adventures under that title” he laughs

“I’m glad I amuse you” you spat with your arms crossed

“I apologize if I made you feel that I was underestimating you. Do not confuse my laughter with mockery, I know how you feel and I understand.” He comes close to you, each hand on your arms, pressing them lightly “Believe me, I wouldn’t have accepted this job if your father didn’t pay so well. I have to get back home and I want to leave my company with enough resources so they can continue on their own” he explains, he bends his neck so you are so close you can smell his scent, leather, horse and the dessert. “But that doesn’t mean we cannot enjoy ourselves while it lasts” Oberyn smiles and passes his arm over your shoulders “Have you tasted the wine from Myr?” you shake your head “It’s the sweetest”

The wine is starting to play with your mind, your smile falls languidly over the corner of your lips and you don’t know why you’re laughing but whatever song Uhlan is singing is the funniest thing you’ve heard. Rikan laughs by your side, her laugh is actually sweet and high making her look less menacing. Shifa is the only one that doesn’t look amused at all and he drinks from her goblet eyeing the tavern, especially you, with hatred.

“C’mon, Shifa, we know you can smile” Uhlan grabs her in a bear hug but she squeezes herself out of it

“Let me alone, you brute”

“You haven’t talked much since we retrieve the little girl over here, tell us what’s going on in that little twisted mind of yours?” the man jokes and the other mercenary glares at him

“I’m going to my chamber” She drinks the rest of her drink and strides to the rooms, pushing the drunken people in her way

“Leave her, Uhlan! She’s just jealous that her prince is not directing his attentions only to her lately” Rikan says winking at you

Oberyn has been absent having a conversation in another table until he comes back with a serious expression

“I’m partially offended that you think our company it’s not worth your time” Uhlan says sliding to give him enough space to seat by his side

“Huh, so I guess Shifa is not the only one jealous” Rikan drinks looking at him over her goblet

“Shut up!”

“Where is she?” Oberyn asks

“She went to her chamber” Uhlan serves him wine “So what was about those ugly bastards that got your attention; I thought you had a very refined taste”

“Those are Westerosi men; I wanted to get news of the world. Some of us still appreciate the pursuit of knowledge, my friend” Oberyn taps on his big shoulder

“I appreciate the pursuit of a good fuck better, my friend. Let’s see if those Westerosi want to share some news with me, Rikan are you coming? I’m always lucky with you around”

“I don’t like Westerosi” she snarls

“I don’t care, I just need you to be there so they take a good look at your ugly face and they get convinced that fucking with me is the good option of the two of us” he jokes with one of those thunder like chuckles

Rikan laughs and she follows him, waddling towards the men’s table.

“I should go to my room” you say, rising too fast and the whole room twists and turns

“You liked the wine, I see” he observes you grab the wooden table for your dear life until you find your balance

“Too sweet, I haven’t noticed it until it was too late”

“Let me guide you then”

Oberyn grabs you by your waist and helps you climb the stairs to the second floor. People gather around the aisle, laughter and moans fill the air and the heat of Oberyn skin over yours and the boldness giving by the alcohol make you pressed your body against his a little tighter than its necessary.

“This is you” he says opening the door for you

“Is it true what you said about creating our own destiny?” you collapse on his firm chest, your hands brushing over his neck

“Yes, sweet flower”

“Sweet flower” you mimic his accent “Say it one more time” your glossy lips, sticky with wine, leave a kiss on the tan uncover skin of his chest. His laugh makes you raise your head

“You need to sleep, child”

“No, no!” you slap his hand away when he tries to push you inside the room “Don’t call me that, I’m not a child. I’m a woman” you try to fix your posture to seem taller but you body stumbles to one side almost falling down

“What you are is a very inebriated girl. Good night, my sweet flower” he says closing the door

“Are you going to Shifa’s room?” the words escape your lips before you can think and he lingers on the door with an eyebrow raised

“Why do you ask that?”

“I don’t want you to go to her” again the words are out before you process them

“And what do you want me to do?” Oberyn closes the door behind him. And you breathe deeply a mixture of excitement and fear.

“Stay with me” you mutter

“Believe me I would, but you don’t know what you are asking. It is the wine speaking”

“No it’s not” you pout again falling into his arms, hearing how you sound like a spoiled little girl, you cough “It’s not” you repeat

“Right, let me take you to bed then”

You gasp looking at him with wide eyes. Oberyn hugs your body and walks towards the simple bed at the corner until you both fall down on the soft mattress

“Oberyn” you whisper “I have to tell you something before we...”

“Tell me, sweet flower” He lays beside you, posing his head over his fist

“I’m...I’ve never...” you stutter

“No need to worry” with his free hand he starts to brush his index finger from your brow to the tip of your nose so slowly and softly that you feel your eyes closing down

“Are you trying to make me sleep as if I was a puppy?” you slur

“Shh” he continues until the room goes dark and you cannot open your eyes for much that you try

“Sweet dreams, sweet flower” you hear before you blank out.

The sun pierces your eyes as if its rays were daggers. The company laughs at your expense, but yet again, Shifa hisses and insults you in some language but it’s evident that she said something nasty because Oberyn glares at her.

“No more Myr wine for you, little girl” Uhlan laughs helping you get on your horse

“Never” you murmur

The pain in the back of your head and the unstoppable thirst you have makes you moody, and it doesn’t help that you know you’re one day away from your home. But everything is worse with the hard sting of jealousy. It’s not that Oberyn does much, but he rides along side her, speaking in that stupid language you don’t understand, and she makes him laugh, he watches with attention whatever she points at during the way. He looks at her, talks to her. All you want is to rush your stupid horse and take her place.

It gets worse when Shifa sees you observing them; knowing damn well what you feel, she becomes softer, leaving touches on his skin, whispers things on his ear. And you can see the intimacy, the camaraderie that they share and that you will never have. And she’s a woman not a little girl, fierce, independent, and strong; and you cannot stop comparing yourself to her.

You arrive to a small town in between the domains of the two free cities, just hours away from the gates of Pentos.

“We will spent the night here, we need to be presentable for tomorrow”

The town has a small and humble bath house. The simple exterior made of red brick doesn’t show the beauty it has in its interior. The garden inside is made of brick and ceramic creating beautiful arches that frame the pool in the middle; green vines crept over the walls and the tender murmur of water is the only sound you can hear.

“We have rooms to accommodate you for the night once you’re done with your baths” the lady, owner of the house, announces and snaps her fingers towards the servants so they get everything ready.

“Thank you” Oberyn says bowing his head “Wash away the dust of our journey, my friends. Specially you, Uhlan” he jokes, slapping the big man’s belly

“You’re as stinky as me, my prince, but the Gods didn’t give me a beautiful face”

The company strips shamelessly, you think that they’re so comfortable around each other that they don’t think twice before submerge their naked bodies in the fresh water.

You stay by the side, taking off your shoes and rolling your sleeves so you can wash your feet and face. You avert your eyes when you see that Oberyn’s armor is on the floor. Your eyes fixed on the water and the blue tiles at the bottom, but you cannot stop from raising your eyes just a little.

His magnificent, strong, and tight body, his beautiful golden skin is marked in scars in some parts, you see the muscles on his legs tensing and relaxing as he gets in the pool. Your eyes travel through the room to avoid seeing him in his full grace.

“C’mon child, you don’t want to be stinky when you meet your father” Rikan splash water at you

“I-I”

“Let her be, she’s scare of my big cock” Uhlan laughs

“That thing that you can barely get up? C’mon, child, it is harmless” The blonde mercenary swims towards you and grabs your hand to pull you in

“Rikan, leave her, let’s finish and we will leave her some privacy” Oberyn says under the small waterfall brushing his skin with a small piece of soap

“Your husband’s eyes will be the only ones that will see you naked” Shifa says and she swims towards Oberyn. Her body is toned and muscular. She joints him under the water stream and when she tries to touch him, he moves away.

You don’t want to smile, but you do, until you remember that he refused you the other night and tonight is the last night you’ll spend with them. Shifa will have him for whatever time she wants.

Eventually they leave the pool, putting on some fresh clothes and rubbing some scent oils on their skins and they look different, less mercenary and more like elite warriors with a thousand adventures to tell. You will miss them; they are the only friends you have ever had.

“Thank you” you say stopping their banter over who’s going to take which room, they look at you confused “Thank you for rescuing me” you say with a trembling voice

“It’s nothing, child” Uhlan says and you see his big eyes shine

“We will give you some privacy” Rikan nods

When they are away you take off those stinky clothes you’ve been wearing since you escape. You moan feeling the water soften your muscle and you enjoy the strong cascade of water hitting your back until your bones feel like liquid inside your skin.

“I never expected you to thank us for getting you to your father” his voice gets you out of the trance, and you don’t open your eyes when you hear the soft sound of clothes hitting the ground and the splash of water when he gets inside the pool again.

“I didn’t thank you for that, but for rescuing me” you answer still your eyes closed under the waterfall “And saving my life” you pass your hand over the now healed wound, a moon shape scar where he suck the venom out of you.

Oberyn fingers grab your wrist, raising your arm towards his lips and planting kisses alongside your veins until he arrives to the thicker skin of the scar, sucking again on it.

“Do you still believe that it was better to let you die from the snake’s bite than to be back home?” he whispers against your skin, his beard tickling you over your pulse

“I still can run away” you open one eye. Oberyn looks amused at you

“Will you?” he asks saving the distance between you

“I don’t know. Will you come get me if I do?” You approach him, intertwining your hands on his neck

“The world is big and beautiful; it will be a shame that a sweet flower like you rots in a place like this all her life” he turns his head and leaves a kiss on each of your arms

“So that’s a no” you laugh but the pain in your heart is real

“I have to leave Essos soon, I guess the time for adventures is up” he exhales deeply

“Just the last one then” you’re surprised of your boldness when you rise on your tiptoes to kiss his lips

It is soft at first. Just tasting him, tempting him to show you more, and he does. Oberyn opens his mouth and sucks on your lower lip and when your mouth is open he savors you with his tongue. He holds your face on his large palms guiding you softly until the kiss deepens and your hands leave his neck roaming through his back and he reciprocates. His hand caresses every inch from your neck to your arms. You moan in protest when he breaks the kiss but then his kisses move to your neck nibbling your skin. He pampers every part of you with his attention, soft kisses and bites over the top of you breast.You cry out laughing when he grabs you and rise by the waist so he can access your tits. You circle his waist with your legs and you hold yourself on his shoulders.

Any good sense in you, any coherent thought gets lost one his mouth sucks on your nipples and you kiss his head trying to control your panting. The sounds that come out of you seem so far away, his low grunts and moans over your breast melt you and you feel the heat gathering between your legs.

“My sweet flower, you have the sweetest tits” he moans and he lowers you so he can kiss you one more time. You run your fingers over his dark hair, his impossibly close to you but you need more. You need him like those drops of water he poured in you the first time. The hunger, the jealousy and desire you felt these past days have reached its peak and you think your heart will collapse. You repeat his name on his lips like a plea.

Oberyn carries you to the side of the pool, and you feel your cheeks burning, your body in goose flesh feeling exposed and at his mercy now that the water is not covering you. He takes his time admiring you, his brow eyes eating every pore of your skin. Kissing your legs he parts them grabbing you by the hips he positions you just at the edge of the pool. He palms your breasts one more time, gracing each nipple with a small pinch that makes you moan loudly. You get flustered, gaining a bit of your conscience back

“No need to be shy, my love, let go. I wish to hear every sweet moan, drink every drop of this sweet cunt” he plants a kiss on your navel, before lowering his face. His first lick between your lips makes you marvel of the unknown sensation. His eyes are fixed on you while he licks faster and sucks between your small lips, when you tense, every single fiber of your body burning, he changes his rhythm, lapping languidly all your sex and back again, fast and slow, and never too much. Until you’re gasping for air and pushing him away

“Please, it’s too much”

“Let me show you, trust me” his wet mouth bites you inner thigh before he starts again. This time you reach the point of no return faster. A wide abyss before you where you skin burns and you heart beat faster until you fall, crying his name. And he holds you, planting kisses all over you body, every part he can reach. The gasps lead to laughter

“What happe...how?” you ask

“I have many things to show you my sweet flower” he smiles

Oberyn lets you in his room. The warm night breeze moves the white curtains and the moonshine casts its rays so you can see him get on top of you with the warmest of smiles.

“Do you still want this, my flower?” he asks

You grab him by the neck and let your lips answer for you. Lowering your touch you push his back so he presses his body against you even tighter.

“Please, please” you beg on his ear

He reaches between your bodies and brushes the tip of his cock on your lips coating it in your arousal, before pushing gently. You gasp at the intrusion; it’s not pain what you feel but definitively a bit uncomfortable at first

“Let me in, my sweet, relax for me” Oberyn bends his neck to kiss and bite your tits. The pleasure turns your body into a withering mess until you’re full of him.

He moves lazily at first letting you grow used to his length and width while he observes your face

“Is it alright my love?”

“I need more” you murmur

“More?” He rises, pressing the weight of his body on his knees and opens you wider grabbing the soft skin on your hips “Like this?” he thrusts deep and fast with each word and you nod biting your lip. His pace is unforgiving, and you cannot think, all you can feel is him, and his sweet words and praises combined with the slaps of wet skin and the creaks of this old bed. Your fingers scratch softly on his chest trying to hold into something when you feel that abyss again, but this time you let it go and it hits you harder. Oberyn collapses over you letting your cunt squeeze him even tighter, slowly dragging himself in and out until he sense his release coming and he pushes harder once, twice until he spills his warm seed.

You kiss his brow, wet from exhaustion and the pool, in a way the cage he’s forming with his body pressed against the mattress is the freest you have ever felt.

The dawn wakes you up, many years later, a harrowing pain in your chest remembering how he kissed you a thousand times, how you slept caged in his arms for a few hours and then woke up with his face between your thighs

“Does it hurt?” he asked and you flinched, feeling the swollen and sensitive skin “I will kiss it better” he said. And you made love again, he moved you in the bed showing how to touch your body and how to touch him, how to pleasure him with your mouth as he did to you. Until the sun invaded the room and crashed your safe space between the shadows. You could no longer hide from your destiny, it was time to go.

He left you, a small and decent kiss on your hand and bid you farewell wishing you a happy life.

You remember running, not paying attention to your father’s complaints and your mother’s cries while you soon-to-be husband drank wine unbothered by the whole thing. You ran to the balcony watching his dark horse taking him out of the city.

He never looked back, and with his parting figure you promised you will live your life happy even if you have to run for it. That you will live adventures on your own until life gives you the last drop of its joy and pleasure. In a way you promised to honor him without knowing one day it will come true.

So you woke up, older, wiser, in your own house, after many adventures lived, and after a sleepless night mourning him, you grab paper and ink and write:

“Travel, fight and fuck the world: the Adventures of an Unusual Lady”

[crispmarshmallow]

and it’s so gut wrenching

Love me with your worst intentions. 

It had been a wedding gift from her brothers - a beautiful dagger commissioned by Doran and crafted by the blacksmith in Sunspear and bejeweled with the most precious stones Oberyn had acquired from across the Narrow Sea. They gifted it to her in a small chest as decorated as the weapon it carried before she left for Kingslanding. 

Elia had picked up the dagger from the velvet inside of the chest and relished in the feeling of it between her fingers when they handed it over to her. She had loved it. Daggers were one of the few weapons she had learned to use. One of the few that her delicate health allowed her to possess. I do not think I will need it. She had said to them. I will be a Princess of the Realm with many a sword and a Prince sworn to my protection. Doran and Oberyn insisted nonetheless - they would sleep easier if they knew she was not unarmed.

And she had not had any need for it. She took it with her wherever she travelled - from Dragonstone to Kingslanding and back - but she rarely took it out of its chest. Rare occasions being the ones when she had it lightly polished so it would not lose its lustre.

Elia had never felt the need for it. Until she did - at Harrenhal. Rhaegar had crowned another who was not her. And she knew - just knew - what precarious protection that her husband promised her within the Sept of Baelor was no more. 

Rhaegar rode past her after his victory against Selmy and though she felt insulted and neglected she kept her face neutral. She had perfected her mask as a princess far before she could even remember. She watched Rhaegar hand over the woven crown of winter roses to Lyanna Stark. She watched the uproar he caused. And she knew. Rhaegar had always been so cautious - he would risk so much for so little.

It did not matter that she carried his child within her - a child that could possibly be his heir. It was the last child that she would likely ever bear according to Pycelle. She had given Rhaegar Rhaenys and soon she will give another. The dragon must have three heads. Isn’t that what he always whispered to her? And she could not bear a third. 

Elia had noticed how his sweet little promises of love had grown far less frequent after the diagnosis by Pycelle. And she suddenly knew that was the reason - knew that was why he spurned her before all of Westeros for a woman already betrothed. She could no longer be an instrument in his precious prophecy. 

And so Elia took the dagger out its chest that night and slept with it under her pillow. She continued to do so after they left Harrenhal. 

Painted us a happy ending

She could not sweep Rhaegar’s actions under the rug. Elia had her pride and dignity to salvage. He had insulted her. House Martell. Dorne. And even his own children by neglecting her before the entire realm.

However, Elia and the little babe within her and Rhaenys held little power outside Dorne without Rhaegar. And so she could do no more than be as cold as the winters the House of his little Lyanna liked to warn of. Oh, a part of her wanted to do so much more. She wanted to coat her precious dagger in the poisons that Oberyn liked to experiment with so much and prick a small wound into her husband. She knew she could not do so though - she depended on him far too much. Moreover, it would tear her heart into two. 

It took an effort on her part, even with those dark thoughts, to be so cold to him. Somewhere along all the sweet promises he used to whisper when she had some use to him had made her grow to love him. Her coldness towards him and Aerys’ continued descent into madness was taking a toll on her. 

Pycelle had begun to worry for the child. And that made Rhaegar come seeking for forgiveness. Until then, he took her treatment with silence - ignoring anything out of the ordinary. Until then.

Rhaegar had apologized and kissed her tears of fury away. He whispered to her of how Lyanna Stark had been the Knight of the Laughing Tree and that his act had only been a reward for her valor and bravery and nothing more. He whisked Elia and Rhaenys away from Kingslanding to Dragonstone and catered to her every need.

And Elia had begun to believe his acts of repentance. He had looked so proud of her when she gave birth to little Aegon and how a comet shone over them as she did. He sang little Aegon a beautiful song. He said that little beautiful Aegon was the Prince that was Promised. 

Elia had begun to believe him and his promises again. She had. Just not enough to put the dagger back into its chest. 

Everytime you burned me down,

She loved him. She believed him. And she cursed herself for it. She wished she buried her dagger into his chest while she had a chance.

Rhaegar had insisted that they return to Kingslanding a month or two after sweet Aegon joined them. They had presented Aegon to Aerys and surprisingly garnered thin approval from the Mad King. 

After that Rhaegar had left Kingslanding with two  of the Kingsguard in tow. I must do this for the realm. He had refused to tell her what. Elia had supposed that it must have something to do with his plans in overthrowing Aerys.

She did not think him foolish enough to go and run off with Lyanna Stark. She didn't think he would risk war for a woman. And yet he did. 

He ran off with her. Brandon Stark demanded justice and he and his father were slaughtered before her eyes and the eyes of the court in a way so brutal that Elia began to have nightmares of her and her children in their place. Burning as Rhaegar watched passively - caring none for his family. 

As he did at the moment. War raged in the realm and no one knew where he was. And so nothing stopped Aerys from mistreating her and her children without Rhaegar in the city. Picking her as his target when he lashed out. 

He hurled insult after insult against her - blaming her for Rhaegar’s indiscretions. He had her humiliated before the court. Elia did her best to ensure that Rhaenys and Aegon were never in the vicinity when Aerys gathered in the Throne Room. She made sure Ashara had whisked them away to some quiet corner in the Keep while Aerys had his attention on her. 

She endured it - for her children. She would do anything for them. As she would have for Rhaegar. As Rhaegar would not have done for them. As he did not do for them. 

And Elia began to sleep at night with the dagger in one hand as Rhaenys curled around her body and she cradled Aegon in the other hand. 

Don’t know how, for a moment it felt like heaven

He came back to head the armies that he neglected for so long. Baratheon bagged victory after victory and Rhaegar could no more ignore his responsibility as the Prince and heir to House Targaryen.

She had not bothered to welcome him. She feigned illness to avoid it -  an excuse that was all too plausible. She did not want to see him after he returned from doing what he did with Lyanna Stark. 

However, Rhaegar saw fit to visit her and his children before he left for the battlefield. He came to Aegon’s nursery where Elia and Rhaenys spent most of their time these days. He came fitted in his armor decked with rubies and jewels and looked every bit the Prince that he was. The sight of him made her chest tighten with sadness and loathing and happiness at seeing him after so long. 

She watched him scoop Rhaenys into his arms and kiss her on the nose and whisper something that made his daughter burst into giggles. It would be so easy for Elia to think that he cared about his children - more than he cared about his stupid prophesy - to think that they could be a happy little family. Eventually, he put Rhaenys down and moved to pick up the sleeping Aegon to press a kiss to his forehead.

He approached Elia next. She curtsied to him and let him embrace her. She basked in its warmth for a moment. He whispered his little promises in her ears and Elia wondered if they always sounded so ridiculous. Lyanna Stark was the ice to his fire. Lyanna Stark was with child in Dorne. Rhaegar took his mistress to the homeland of his wife. 

Elia wanted to scream in fury and unleash the wrath of the Sun onto him - not even a dragon could prevail before the heat of the Sun. She thought of her dagger once more and of the satisfaction she would feel to see it in his heart. But it still remained that Elia was powerless without her husband. So she let him kiss her softly and let him mistake her tears of anger as tears of sadness at seeing him leave for battle. 

“Who do you think he fights for?” She had asked Ser Jaime  - the last of the Kingsguard in Kingslanding - a hostage to ensure the loyalty of his family as she was, as they watched Rhaegar and his host leave the city. . “Do you think he fights to keep Aerys on the Throne? Or to place himself upon it? Or so he can keep little Lyanna Stark? Do you think he fights for Aegon and Rhaenys?”

Jaime had hesitated. “He fights for you all, Princess.” It was an empty answer. Elia knew that the young knight almost worshipped the ground that Rhaegar walked upon. 

All? Elia had scoffed. “And yet he does not fight for me.” He never has and never will.

Rhaegar did not see fit to update her of his wellbeing or the state of war and the little news she received was always from Varys or Jaime. 

And a day came where Varys told her that her husband fell on the battlefield at the hands of Robert Baratheon - the name of Lyanna Stark on his tongue. Elia’s heart mourned while the darker parts of her soul rejoiced to see the man die at the hands of little Lyanna’s betrothed.

However, with his death it became more evident than ever how her position had depended on Rhaegar. Aerys blamed the Dornish for Rhaegar’s fate. He kept Elia and her children as he sent Viserys and Rhaella to Dragonstone - but not before stripping Aegon of his status as heir and handing it over to Viserys. 

Elia lost almost everything after her husband died - the husband that had thought not of his children or wife in his last moments. 

All Elia thought was of her children and she walked the corridors of the Red Keep with her dagger tucked into the sleeves of her dress with the two of them always by her side.

And it’s so gut wrenching, 

Aerys opened the gates for Tywin Lannister and Elia knew there was no hope. All she could think of as she rushed through the corridors of Maegor’s Holdfast with Rhaenys holding on to her hand and a babe in her other was that she was thankful that Aegon was away and safe with Varys. 

Elia did not trust Varys - he had simply been her only choice to keep her babe alive. If Robert Baratheon and Tywin Lannister did not kill Aegon, Elia knew Aerys would. So she had let Varys take him to safety and she hated him with every part of her being for not taking Rhaenys too.

She hid them in the chambers of her dead husband as she could hear the chaos coming closer and closer. She tried to keep her tears of fury and fear and helplessness at bay as she told Rhaenys to hide beneath her father’s bed as if the piece of furniture would protect her as her father should have. She let her take Balerion with her - her little black kitten. Elia could only wish that the kitten was as powerful as its namesake. Alas, she could only wish as the noise got louder.

She slipped her dagger out of her sleeves and clutched it so tightly between her fingers that it hurt. She had none to protect her and Rhaenys and the babe that she held. Jaime was with Aerys and Barristan was captured by the Rebels and the rest were with her husband’s precious Lyanna Stark. 

She murmured to the children in the room as she could hear heavy footsteps itching closer to them  - trying to reassure them and herself. She would not let them be harmed without a fight. She would protect them with the dagger that she thought she would never have to use and all that she had.

She would protect them as the man she loved and their father should have. She would protect Rhaenys and Aegon and even the child that she held and Elia Martell knew that it would still not be enough. 

  Falling in the wrong direction.

Contains lyrics from Wrong Direction by Hailee Steinfeld © Warner Chappell Music, Inc, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

[dwellordream]

You’re Robert Baratheon with all hindsight and you’ve just arrive at kingslanding with Jon Arryn after begin wounded at the trident, finding dead Elia, her children, and areys. Also pycell, Jaime, varys, and Tywin. What do you do? What’s the best way.

Assuming the end goal here is still to have myself on the throne and be widely supported as the king, I need to immediately have Lorch and Clegane arrested and put on trial.

Moving against Tywin himself is going to be a lot harder. My army is exhausted and beaten down from the Trident, his just took the city ‘for me’. I might not be able to immediately remove him from power. Varys and Pycelle both need to be deposed with, either way.

There is no 100% chance of appeasing the Martells. I can execute Lorch and Clegane and send them their heads and the remains of Elia and her children, but Doran and Oberyn know (or will know) damn well who gave the orders.

As a king I am going to have to weigh my personal security and power against the general desire for justice. The rest of Westeros might not particularly care if Tywin is held accountable for this, but Dorne will.

Beyond that, I have to deal with the surviving Targaryens, and even if I promise to spare their lives so long as Viserys goes to the Faith and renounces his claim to the Throne, it’s doubtful whether Rhaella would ever agree to that if she believes she can rally Dorne with a Viserys - Arianne match to put them in power.

[warsofasoiaf]

You’re Robert Baratheon with all hindsight and you’ve just arrive at kingslanding with Jon Arryn after begin wounded at the trident, finding dead Elia, her children, and areys. Also pycell, Jaime, varys, and Tywin. What do you do? What’s the best way.

The most important thing would be to get Jaime to talk about the Wildfire Plot. Part of that is a purely practical concern, as long as the wildfire is placed it’s a significant risk to the city and the people within it. However, it also form a valuable political tool to de-legitimize the Targaryens-in-exile to help secure my rule. Of course, this puts the entire Kingslayer incident with Jaime Lannister in a different light, but it could be a difficult moment that shows the insufficiency of this idea of the Kingsguard as a weapon to point absent the greater points of honor.

Another key thing would be to send Eddard to the Tower of Joy and send someone else to relieve Stannis, and hopefully get her medical care sooner. Praise Stannis’s endurance and resolve before the court, to let him know what a tremendous service he did to me, and give him the recognition he craved. Try to raise Renly not to be such a little shit.

Pycelle has betrayed the Maester’s Oath, so I’d probably turn him over to the Citadel for their own punishment. I’m not sure if the Citadel has their own courts for that sort of thing, but separating Pycelle from the Citadel will help the organization stay loyal. Varys is executed, I already know he’s disloyal and I can easily find a reason for him to swing. Tywin would be put on trial for the murder of Rhaenys and Aegon the Infant, as would the perpetrators Amory Lorch and Gregor Clegane themselves. 

There’d be minor stuff too. I know that there’s a long summer coming later into my reign; investments would be good at the beginning of the summer in order to experience the fruits of greater prosperity. The Night’s Watch will need help too, beefing them up for the disaster that is to come ~300ish. And when the Greyjoy Rebellion comes, Euron’s getting a knife in his eye.

Thanks for the question, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[hellsbellschime]

I agree with you about Tyrion needs a wake-up call to change his course. There was a chapter in which Tyrion dream about killing his siblings and kingslanding burning. In that dream Tyrion had two faces where one was laughing and other was crying. I think his siblings murder just like show will put him in dilemma. Also Tywin did switch sides in Robert rebellion but for his benefits. Tyrion had eyes black n green colors, colors of first DOD factions.

That would definitely make sense, if Jaime were seriously injured or killed because of Tyrion’s actions he definitely would not handle it well. And although he doesn’t care about Myrcella or Tommen in the books in the way that he did in the show, they are innocent and members of his family, and they’re both almost certainly going to die in a different way in the books. If he were responsible for one of their deaths without meaning to be I think that could change his perspective, he is a complete control freak who thinks he’s smarter than everyone so I think that any of his family members that he sort of cares for or at least doesn’t hate wound up suffering or dying because he didn’t foresee those consequences of his actions, he might bail on Dany.

[keladryhawklight]

The Journey

12-16 Sep 627

A low voice came out of the forest, from not far into the shadowed protection the woods offered, "Little human, you're all alone."

Her eyes came up, settling on the green figure in surprise. She almost flinched, realizing exactly who, or rather what addressed her. An older orc appeared grizzled, his skin leather-beaten from years outside as stared at her in a mixture of surprise and wariness. His eyes were oddly thoughtful, betraying an intelligence she knew instinctively not to challenge, not when she was this weakened. "I.. er. G'morning?" she murmured softly, her voice dulled by the weariness that ate away at her.

"Little human, you look unwell," the old orc growled at her. His tusks glinted in the morning light, as he regarded her quietly. Wearing no marker for the horde army, the group he was with appeared as simple civilians. He gestured to her, beckoning her closer to him. Beyond him in the woods was a small camp, she could see. The scent of frying meat reached her senses, but something within her told her to keep moving. Instincts practically screamed at her to move. Could she trust these people? No. NO. The armistice was in place -- they couldn't. Or could they. She couldn't trust them. Paranoia reared its ugly head as the thoughts raced through her, one after the other. No. Not after Kingsland. Not now. They would slice her throat if she dared closed her eyes, she knew. No, Keladry. Move. Keep moving. Do not stop, just go. Her stomach growled loudly at the scent, and in that moment, she almost gave in. Almost conceded to the weakness, exhaustion, hunger and trauma that chased her like the very hounds of hell.

"Come. Eat, rest with us. You might even sleep for a few hours before we move again." His voice was deeply gravelly, and his eyes wary as he watched her. She had never been this close to any member of the Horde, save for the Goblins of Booty Bay, and even then, Horde was the very last thing they would call themselves. A tendril of fear wound through her, breaking through the fevered delirium when he said continued speaking, "I said come along. There is meat and a lone bedroll in our camp for you to make use of for a few brief hours."

"Ah.. That is, I cannot," she murmured quietly, clutching her stick closer to her protectively. "I thank you for your hospitality truly.. but I must decline. Where I must go is not far, and I know the way."

"If that is your choice, human," he acknowledged, nodding his great head. "You will not get far, sickened as you are. Not in these lands."

This was also true. This was a harsh place, not quite known for survival.

"I-it is," she nodded, backing away from the orc slowly. Her eyes never left his, and she knew he more than sensed her nervousness. "I thank you for the offer of hospitality, truly I do. Your kindness is.. truly appreciated." Attempting a smile, she knew it probably didn't reach her face, much as she tried. She simply did not have the energy, much as she wished.

"Go with honor little human," the orc nodded, his voice a deep, gravelly rasp that followed her back through the trails of the forest.

"And you in the Light," she returned softly as she painfully ambled back.

She continued up into the foothills. She was close, she knew it in her soul. Desperate to reach the Aerie, she knew she was but a handful of miles from the road that lead down into the Hinterlands. Precious miles. She had ridden these roads so often as a member of the 57th, alongside Brock and the company, had ridden down them as a militant deputy in-command of the Militants division of the crown, and had ultimately fled down these roads when the Hollow had fallen.

One foot in front of the other, Kel, her thoughts whispered. Almost there. Just a few hours longer. Her body was parched; deprived of rest and sustenance, she teetered. The sun, despite the chillier temperatures of the North, seemed to beat down upon her back. Light above, she thought absently. It's just a little farther. A part of her was quite eager to get away from the orcs, feeling for sure that they absolutely could not have been trusted. Absolutely could not.

One foot in front of the other. Just one step after another. One after the other, she continued slowly down the well worn pathway that led towards the dwarven highlands of the Aerie, growing steadily slower. An hour passed. And then another. Her eyes drooped down to the ground after a time, following the dirt pathway.

The sound of a horse reached her, a sharp whinny against the silence she'd been surrounded by. Her head came up slowly as she drew closer to where the sound had originated. Voices sounded as the forest thinned out, barking orders in an almost otherworldly way. Not a sound that she heard often. But one she had heard. Cautiously, she approached, her eyes catching sight of the flapping blue and black fabric in the wind.

The Ebon Blade. This far south. The infestation of undead must truly be bad. She instinctively reached for the rank insignia on her shoulder, and ripped it from the cloth, tearing away the last vestige of her identity. Her tabard had long been shredded on the journey, and her armour was all but destroyed. Now, she was no one. Just another refugee on the roads leading to safety. The orcs may have given her some quarter, but the Ebon Blade were something entirely different. Her Light, normally in reach deep within typically prickled at the sight of them, but it barely flinched. She had to pass them by. Their camp blocked the road that led up to the Aerie. There was no way around.

"G-good morning," she called quietly as she drew close to the closest knight. Undead.. creature. The man whirled upon her, drawing his sword. As quickly as she had spoken, the camp had come alive, buzzing with a paranoid excitement. And just as quickly, she was put into chains, interrogated about her whereabouts, her reasons for being there.

Her thoughts buzzed blearily. She could lie. Give another name. How safe was her own? Her own name could be found in government rosters. Were these knights hostile to the alliance armies? Would they let her through?

"I.. am.." she sighed, letting the full weight of her exhaustion through. She was a refugee whose village had been attacked. They needn't know any more than that. "I am Keladry Hawklight. I seek passage to the Aerie after my home was attacked a few days prior." Her married name would be the only one contained on any file now. Her maiden was less well-known, and might simply be enough to get her through. "I seek nothing but a safe passage to the Aerie to seek medical care and a safe haven to rest."

"You are denied," the nearest to her hissed. He towered over her, looming ominously as his eyes pinned her like prey on the spot."Our purpose is to prevent the taint from reaching the Peak. You are not permitted to pass until they give you permission to pass this checkpoint." He turned, and thundered, "Aldair!"

A second knight came darting up out of the ranks, one that looked.. junior to the first. "Sir," he acknowledged shortly.

"Ride to the Peak," the first knight spoke curtly. "Petition passage for our.. guest."

Aldair nodded. "Yes, Lord Bainscor. I shall return tomorrow with their decision."

Bainscor smiled grimly, his eyes lit with an indescribable cold light. "Excellent." He turned to Kel, and she felt a shiver pass over the back of her neck as he spoke again. "Remand our guest to a holding cell until Aldair returns. We shall see exactly what mercies the Peak has to offer."

[theyearoftheking]

Book Forty-Nine: Black House

“Here is a true American loner, an internal vagrant, a creature of shabby rooms and cheap diners, of aimless journeys resentfully taken, a collector of wounds and injuries lovingly fingered and refingered. Here is a spy with no cause higher than himself.” 

After almost fifty books, The Talisman still stands at the top of the leader board as my favorite Steve book. It’s richly layered, full of memorable characters and horrible villains, with a satisfying conclusion. It’s the type of book fantasy and horror lovers alike are eager to escape into. 

It’s sometimes hard to embrace the sequel to a book you love so much... I mean, I can be bought, but my criteria are stringent:

Consider setting the book in Wisconsin... perhaps the beautiful, sad, remote, desolate western part of the state right along the Mississippi river.

Maybe a Dahmer reference? 

Scratch that. Instead, go with an old-school serial killer no one really talks about anymore. How about... Albert Fish? He’s pretty gross. 

On second thought, reconsider a Dahmer reference. Maybe an evil spirit that links Dahmer and Fish together? 

TONS of Dark Tower references. 

If Steve and Pete were to consider writing a follow up to The Talisman with all these elements, I might consider reading it. 

Spoiler! 

Dark House contains all this goodness, and more. 

It’s so fucking dark, y’all. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to drive past a long-term care facility and NOT think about an old man inside wanting to eat the buttocks of small children.

Oh hey, trigger warnings for cannibalism, and violence against children. 

So, Dark House is set in fictional Coulee County, Wisconsin (not a place). But Steve and Pete (I need to start giving Peter Straub some shout outs as well) describe the western part of the state magnificently. Not too long ago I had a sales job that required me to travel the entire state, and I always loved my jaunts west. I’d park right along the Mississippi, eat my lunch and just soak up the isolation. I’d much rather make the drive to Pierce county than the Quad Cities, which my current employer is asking of me. *Silent scream for help*

Despite Coulee being fictional, the actual Wisconsin references are thick:

De Pere (where we recently found out Steve spent a few formative years)

The Brewers 

Miller Park 

Kingsland Ale- while fictional, it’s a nod to Wisconsin’s rich brewing history, and favorable climate for microbreweries

Dahmer (several times, actually)

Racine. Y’all. I have no idea what Steve’s obsession is with Racine... it comes up in multiple books. It’s really not that great. Take that from someone who spent a brief period of time working there. Honestly, my favorite thing about Racine is the authentic Thai restaurant right in downtown, Sticky Rice. If you find yourself in Racine, please go check them out... their red devil curry is amaze-balls. 

So, yes... lots of Wisconsin. Also, lots of Dark Tower:

Eye of the King

Crimson King

The Tower

Red roses

Breakers

Little Sisters 

Gunslingers and their weapons

Roland and the ka-tet

Monos! Blaine and Patricia

Chief Breaker Brautigan- who allegedly tells hilarious stories about his escapes. I miss him already. 

I have questions about how Steve convinced Pete to include so many Dark Tower elements into this book...

Steve:  “Pete, bud... I know you might have a different vision for how this book plays out. Buuut what about if we make it part of the Dark Tower universe?”

Pete: Stares for a long minute. “Um, I thought that series was dead in the water. Do we really need to use Dark House to resuscitate it?” 

Steve: “Remember the car accident? You know, the one that almost took my leg?” 

Pete *Oh fuck, he’s bringing up the car accident as a bid for sympathy, and to convince me to make this a Dark Tower book...* “Of course I remember!”

Steve: “Well, it shook some things loose. I’m about ready to finish the series. I just thought it might be fun if we make this book a lead-up to the finale” 

Pete: “It’s intriguing, but I’m not really sure it’s the direction I want to go in. I was thinking more-”

Steve: “I ALMOST DIED IN THAT ACCIDENT!” 

Pete: “Cool, Dark Tower book it is!” 

I should write fan fiction. I’ve obviously got a gift. 

Black House is told from a birds-eye narration view. Literally... there’s this fat, evil crow named Gorg flying all over town, giving us the lay of Coulee County. Bad stuff has been going on: little children have gone missing, and only a few of their bodies have turned back up mutilated and broken. 

The chief of police, Dale Gilbertson, knows he’s in over his head, and keeps trying to convince his pal, retired police detective, Jack “Hollywood” Sawyer to come consult on the case.

Jack isn’t having it. He retired young and moved to Coulee County from Los Angeles after tracking down and arresting serial killer Thorny Kinderling. The majestic beauty of western Wisconsin caught him by surprise, and he happily invested in reasonably priced (read: cheap) real estate with a view. 

Upon moving to Wisconsin, Jack befriended Dale’s blind uncle Henry Leydon; who voices several radio programs, including The Wisconsin Rat, which plays indy screamo bands and has plenty of shock-jock antics. The two hang out together, listen to jazz music, and sometimes Jack reads to Henry. Henry was able to use his elevated senses to study Jack’s speech pattern and figure out Jack’s mom was THE Lily Cavanaugh; the Queen of the B’s. 

While Jack and Henry are reading Bleak House, Charles “Burny” Burnside is wandering around the Maxton Elder Care Facility, pretending to have dementia, and dragging children into The Territories for Lord Malshun to either use as Breakers, or for Burny to snack on if they have no Breaking skills. So, Burny’s a bad dude who did some suspicious things in Chicago; but an evil spirit (the same one who invaded Albert Fish and Jeffrey Dahmer’s bodies) is what’s causing his kidnapping and cannibalistic urges. I know I say this every ten books or so, but Burny might be the worst King villain ever. I was not upset later on when his intestines were violently ripped from his body.

A sweet little boy (with strong Breaker powers) named Tyler Marshall goes missing outside the Maxton Elder Care Facility. While he was being pulled into the bushes by Gorg who kept repeating his name; his mother, Judy receives a taunting package and letter from The Fisherman, which sends her over the brink, and she’s institutionalized. 

Tyler’s disappearance really amps up the town outrage, and Jack agrees to help the police department out. He’s starting to suspect there’s some Territories nonsense going down, and he can help. 

From here, the book goes at break-neck pace and includes everything from micro-brewing bikers, a dog bite that causes one to dissolve into a foamy puddle on the couch, our old friend Speedy Parker showing up as a gunslinger, the world’s most annoying newspaper reporter, plenty of flipping between worlds via the creepy old black house hidden in the woods, and a happy(ish) ending. Honestly, there’s a warning at the end of the book, which allows you to choose your own ending. You can stop reading five pages before the end, and enjoy a happy ending where the good guys win; or you can get the real world ending. Both are satisfying... I recommend reading all the way to the end. 

So, just a few quotes for you... 

“Wolf died of a disease called America.” 

This line gutted me. I didn’t realize how much I loved Wolf as a character, until I had to read a follow-up that didn’t include him. His soul was too clean and beautiful for a fucked-up world like the one we currently live in. 

“He doesn’t like the cell phone to begin with- twenty-first-century slave bracelets, he thinks them...”

No explanation needed. 

“Why must life always demand so much and give so little? Parkus answers her question with a single word: ka.” 

Again, no explanation needed. 

Was this book as good as The Talisman? 

No. 

Did I want more? 

Absolutely.

But was I satisfied with the end?

You bet your (un-chomped on) ass.

Total Wisconsin Mentions: 33

Total Dark Tower References: 50

Book Grade: A-

Rebecca’s Definitive Ranking of Stephen King Books

The Talisman: A+

Wizard and Glass: A+

Needful Things: A+

On Writing: A+

The Green Mile: A+

Hearts in Atlantis: A+

Rose Madder: A+

Misery: A+

Different Seasons: A+

It: A+

Four Past Midnight: A+

The Shining: A-

The Stand: A-

Bag of Bones: A-

Black House: A-

The Wastelands: A-

The Drawing of the Three: A-

Dolores Claiborne: A-

Nightmares in the Sky: B+

The Dark Half: B+

Skeleton Crew: B+

The Dead Zone: B+

Nightmares & Dreamscapes: B+

‘Salem’s Lot: B+

Carrie: B+

Creepshow: B+

The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon: B

Storm of the Century: B-

Cycle of the Werewolf: B-

Danse Macabre: B-

The Running Man: C+

Thinner: C+

Dark Visions: C+

The Eyes of the Dragon: C+

The Long Walk: C+

The Gunslinger: C+

Pet Sematary: C+

Firestarter: C+

Rage: C

Desperation: C-

Insomnia: C-

Cujo: C-

Nightshift: C-

Gerald’s Game: D

Roadwork: D

Christine: D

Dreamcatcher: D

The Regulators: D

The Tommyknockers: D-

Now I move onto From a Buick Eight. I’ve had an advanced reading copy since the book came out, but never had the urge to actually read it. That should tell you everything you need to know about my level of enthusiasm right now. I’m hoping it’s not a Christine 2.0. 

Until next time, Long Days & Pleasant Nights, Rebecca 

[pharmoxdrugs]

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