#also also soft boy Luke is going to be THE DEATH OF ME

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (7/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, mutual masturbation, targcets stuff, infidelity, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence, some kind of sexual harassment (unwanted touch), death threats, bad things ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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Waiting for the arrival of his betrothed in the courtyard of the Red Keep, forced to do the deed by his mother, he thought, staring blankly ahead, that he longed to be anywhere else.

In his bed, in the Small Council chamber, on the back of Vhagar flying through the skies.

Even the vision of an evening spent with his cousin in the library teaching her the language of Old Valyria did not sound as awful as the prospect of what he would now have to do.

He was not good at pretending or lying – false flirting, sweet gestures and gifts to win the heart of a beloved woman were not his domain and aroused his pity. Conversing about nothing or romantic walks were also not what he wanted or needed.

He should be planning the war with Criston Cole, not courting a woman who was indifferent to him.

Worse, now that he had managed to forget what he had done to his nephew, he knew that along with Floris Baratheon's face all the memories, nightmares and unbearable pain in his eye socket would return.

He sighed, straightening up, standing with his hands folded behind his back as a couple of carriages drove through the gate, one with only the chests, the other surely with the person to whom they belonged.

Gods, how long was she going to stay here?

The door opened and he moved ahead reluctantly, needing to show at least a bit of courtesy, giving her his hand – Floris smiled at him gratefully and placed her soft palm on his, stepping out the carriage like the princess she surely longed to be.

"My Lady. Welcome to the Red Keep." He said, letting go of her hand, folding it behind him again.

A squeal and a cry of a little boy before Luke was swallowed by the Vhagar's maw.

He swallowed heavily, feeling a cold sweat on the back of his neck and an unpleasant stab of pain in his eye socket.

His betrothed bowed before him.

"My Prince. I am tired after my journey. Please, guide me to my chamber." She said, and he nodded, hoping that she was very tired and would not require any other effort from him.

He took a breath, surprised, feeling discomfort when they moved ahead and her fingers slid under his arm right away, snuggling into his side as if they were a pair of lovers.

He closed his eye and swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in his throat, rage, humiliation and shame, aware that the guards and servants might have been watching and mocking him, knowing how much he hated such familiarity.

For her, however, what was more important was not how he felt, but what she imagined in her head.

He was only to adapt to her fantasies.

As they walked into the chamber his mother had specially chosen for her, Floris smiled – her windows looked out onto the harbour itself, the beautiful sea and the sun.

He hummed, wondering if he would be able to escape.

"Get some rest, my Lady. I will see you at the supper." He said, wanting to take a step back and leave, but he heard her sigh quickly, seeing out of the corner of his eye her furrowed brow.

"I was hoping that we would get to know each other more closely. That you were also looking forward to this moment like I was. We could take a walk in the royal gardens and talk." She said with a hopefulness that made him feel a discomfort in his stomach.

He thought that he had not been waiting for this moment at all.

His brother had told him to get Borros Baratheon's daughter, and he did.

It was a decision dictated by politics, not the desire of his heart.

Deep down, he wished that as soon as the war was over their betrothal would be undone.

Storm's End would then no longer be of any use to them.

But he couldn't tell her that.

He finally looked at her, seeing her gaze full of desire but also excitement, as if she had already imagined what this marriage would give her – that he would surely slowly fall in love with her, that his behaviour was only due to embarrassment and his shy nature.

It didn't even occur to her that she could be indifferent to him, and that was exactly the case.

How was he supposed to make something out of nothing?

"What would you like to discuss with me?" He asked, wanting to shift the burden of this awkward exchange of words onto her.

His betrothed exhaled quietly, as if comforted that he hadn't left, though she smiled, something in her gaze that he didn't like.

"My heart broke when I learned of your lonely expedition. I understand, my Prince, that you did it for the good of the Kingdom, but you must know how awful and difficult the experience was for me, knowing that there was a young, unmarried woman at your side." She said in a way that indicated, in his opinion, that she was not sad because of it, but angry and irritated.

He hated it when someone did not say directly what was on their mind.

"At my brother's request, the Maester has dispelled your doubts, my Lady. My cousin remains untouched." He said coldly, however his grin was wide, menacing – he knew by the look on her face that she understood that she had frustrated him.

She, however, instead of accepting his explanation or negating it, decided to probe deeper into the subject.

"But did you touch her, my Prince? With your hands or your mouth?" She asked, looking at him proudly, as if she recognised that these questions were necessary for her to feel that her position remained unthreatened.

She felt his hands clench into fists behind his back.

"I touched her with my hands. It's hard not to when you're flying together on the back of a dragon."

"So I also want to fly with you on the back of a dragon." She communicated, like a child demanding the same toy from him.

He felt his teeth clench in his jaw, his heart pounding like mad in his chest with rage.

Who was she to demand anything from him?

Stupid cunt.

"I cannot agree to this, my Lady, for the sake of your safety. Your father has placed you under our protection." He said lightly, smiling so that for a moment he exposed his teeth, as if he wanted to bite through her artery.

"With you, I will certainly be safe." She didn't give up, clearly annoyed that he was denying her what he had given to another woman.

"I do not agree. Rest, my Lady. I will see you during supper." He replied and, without waiting for her farewell or a word, left the chamber with a slam of the door.

He felt like shouting, hitting someone, a guard or a servant, beating them until they lost consciousness.

And then he remembered.

Tyland Lannister's fucking servant.

It was time to make him pay for his lack of discretion.

"Robert is no longer serving in the fortress, Your Highness. He was moved to Casterly Rock by Lord Lannister." Said one of the boys when asked where he could find him.

His brother knew what he would want to do and removed the man from his sight so that he could not take revenge on him for his betrayal.

Fucking bastard.

He pounded his palms on the top of his table and cursed in rage, feeling like he was about to explode – he had the urge to ride to Vhagar, get on her back and burn everything he came across in his path.

He closed his hands into fists and leaned forward, panting heavily, feeling like a caged animal.

Why were there traps waiting for him on every side, set for him by his mother and his brother?

Why did he still experience from them the two feelings that caused him such pain: rejection and humiliation?

Sitting at the great table among the lords and their families, staring blankly ahead, pretending not to see the expectant glances of his betrothed in his direction, hoping for any kind of conversation, he thought for the first time in his life that he wished he simply didn't exist.

He wanted to disappear so that he didn't have to deal with all this.

What did he get in return?

A sad, disappointed look from his mother and a sneer from his older brother.

"What's that grave look, brother? Do you not rejoice at the sight of your chosen one, Lady Floris? She has come a long way to see your displeased face." Said Aegon and laughed, licking his lips, none, however, echoed him.

If it had been the first time, or the fiftieth time, but he could no longer count how many times he had humiliated him in this way in the presence of others, and he always, every time, felt the same squeeze in his throat, sadness and emptiness.

Why didn't he instead take him aside, ask him what was happening?

Doesn't he need help?

His brotherly understanding, advice, support?

Was he not worthy of this honour?

He sighed, deciding it didn't matter, when he heard the chamber door open and his King's attention turned to another guest.

"Ah, here is my dear, fearless cousin. Come here, my Lady, I have assigned you a seat next to my brother. Perhaps your presence will lift his spirits." His brother called out, and he closed his eyes and swallowed hard, not even bothering to look at the expression on his betrothed's face, hearing her twist next to him in her chair.

He wondered if it wouldn't be better if he just killed him.

He heard her footsteps behind his back, and a moment later he smelled her pleasant, floral scent – the servant had pushed back her chair for her. She sat down beside him, to his right, and for some reason he felt a little better.

She was by his side.

He didn't understand why, but he struggled to restrain himself from slipping his hand under the table and placing it on her thigh, wandering up and down, wordlessly letting her know that he missed her in some strange, twisted way.

She was always honest with him, his little dragon, her and her sweet, sharp tongue that cut like a dagger.

"My Lady." He heard Floris's voice to his left, leaning forward to see her better.

Gods, have mercy, he thought.

She was going to express her jealousy in front of everyone.

"I congratulate you on taming a dragon. No one expected you to succeed." She said with feigned admiration from which he rolled his eyes and shook his head, glancing at his cousin.

She, to his surprise was smiling broadly, her eyes shining dangerously, as if his betrothed amused her but also irritated her at the same time.

"I didn't believe it myself, my Lady. I was convinced that I would burn and become dust." She said with such light-heartedness that he and several people at the table chuckled at her words.

Why did he feel satisfaction?

"The gods have spared you. Will you stand to fight your father?" Floris continued, deliberately changing the subject to one that was uncomfortable for her, to force her to make a mistake and say something she shouldn't.

"Enough." He said impatiently, wanting to spare her this, however, his cousin decided to respond, finding her question surprisingly easy to answer.

"My dragon lacks experience and composure. I will be a mere support for the King and the Prince."

He smirked under his breath, thinking she had been clever in answering politely and cordially, while giving his betrothed no reason to mock or cause him or the King himself to distrust her.

To his relief, Aegon interrupted this exchange of words by ordering music to be played, and he decided to eat something, feeling that, indeed, his cousin's presence by his side had lifted his spirits and restored his appetite.

He pressed his lips together and sighed when Floris's hand brushed his wrist.

Did she have to touch him all the time?

Did she think it was romantic, that she was arousing his desire in this way?

The only feeling he felt was frustration.

"Will you pass me a tray of goose pate, my love?" She asked in a whisper, as if she was telling him some important secret, and he simply nodded, handing her the platter.

"Thank you." She said, but he answered her nothing, concentrating on his roast, hoping she wouldn't make him speak to her with his mouth full.

When he had quenched his thirst and satisfied his appetite, he thought it was time for him and his cousin to leave, however, they could not do so together – that would arouse the displeasure and curiosity of his betrothed, and he did not want that.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, trying to get her attention, but she was focused on cutting the meat, immersed in her own world, not caring about what was going on around her.

The desire to sink his fingers into her thigh returned to him with redoubled force making his manhood pulsate softly in his breeches, but he limited himself to pressing his knee against hers, hoping she would understand what he meant.

He saw that she froze and breathed a sigh of relief when she finally stood up, communicating to all assembled that she would retire to bed, to which his brother-king, already completely drunk, agreed.

He waited a long time before getting up himself.

"My brother. Are you leaving us already?" Aegon asked.

"I am tired." He explained, looking at him coolly.

It was not a lie, he thought.

"I will escort you to your chamber, my Prince." Floris said, immediately rising from her seat, and he nodded, wanting nothing more than to escape from this room as quickly as possible.

This was what his evenings were to be like for days, weeks, months, years, once she became his wife.

He swallowed hard, stepping out into the corridor, feeling the contents of his stomach and the roast he had eaten rise to his throat as if he was about to vomit.

He closed his eyes and pulled away from her as she tried again to grab his arm.

"No." He growled more harshly than he would have liked, feeling his heart pounding like mad as he simply walked ahead.

Her silhouette walked beside him, her face raised at him filled with bitterness.

"Why? We are betrothed. I long to feel your closeness, at least for a moment."

He stopped, looking at her as if he was about to tear her apart, feeling himself breathing loudly through his mouth.

"But I don't want it." He said in a breaking voice, thinking that perhaps if he played the wounded boy it would give him at least a little peace and space.

"It's just a touch of the hand, my love. Nothing bad." She said, against his request touching his arm again, stroking it in a gesture of comfort.

He closed his eyes and grinned coldly, shaking his head, feeling tears of despair under his eyelids.

He thought he hated her.

"Sleep well, my Lady."

"This corridor. This is not the way to your chambers." She said in a trembling voice.

He looked at her over his shoulder, feeling his heart thump harder in his chest.

"I need to do one more thing."

"Do you..."

"That's enough. One more word from you and I'll lose patience. Don't provoke me." He said and turned away, walking towards the library.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he looked over his shoulder and saw that she was gone.

He ran his hand over his face, thinking that he couldn't stand it.

That he had to somehow get rid of her from the Red Keep and his life.

His brother was not worth such a sacrifice.

He felt at home in the library – the old oak bookcases filled to the brim with thick volumes reminded him of his childhood, the years he had spent in that great hall, hiding from the world.

He pulled out a few of the books he had used himself to study, knowing most of them almost by heart, and spread them out on one of the tables where one of the servants had lit some candles.

"You may leave." He said, and the boy nodded and left.

When the door finally opened and he saw her, he froze.

She was wearing his mother's robe thrown over her nightgown, that was certain, however, he did not understand why she had put it on now – that attire should only be worn in the privacy of her own chamber, outside of it being in a degree of negligee.

He swallowed quietly, watching as her girlish figure moved across the floor towards him with a quiet rustling of the shiny, delicate fabric tied at her waist.

He had a feeling that if he pulled at the ribbon, he would reveal her entire beautiful, bare body before his eyes, hidden only beneath the thin layer of her linen shirt.

He grunted as she sat down beside him, smelling her pleasant, fresh scent, sliding a few books towards her.

He knew what he wanted to practice with her and he was doing it deliberately.

He needed to take it out on someone and she had become his victim.

"We'll start with the basics. The most important and simplest terms." He said, pointing his finger at one of the words.

"Jelmor." He hummed. "North."

"Jelmor." She whispered, her voice soft and calm, clearly focused on her task.

She really wanted to learn, he thought with surprise and pride.

The heritage she so despised had become dear to her.

He felt a pleasant warmth in his lower abdomen and satisfaction at the thought.

"Ñāqon. East."

"Nāqon." She said, however, with a mistake, not making the right sound at the beginning of the word.

"No. Roll your tongue at the n." He explained, and she swallowed hard, as if gathering the courage to say it again.

"Ñāqon." She said, slightly better this time.

"Better. Vēzor. South."

"Vēzor."

"Endia. West."

"Endia."

"Muña. Mother." He hummed, looking at her intently, and saw exactly what he wanted.

She froze completely, and her body tensed all over as if he had hit her.

"Muña." She said softly, warmly, her voice trembling slightly, betraying the pain she felt.

"Mmm. Kepa. Father." He said, and she looked at him in a way from which his manhood instantly swelled and pulsed hard, causing his lips to part in a sigh.

Her brown eyes were glazed from tears, her eyebrows arched in pain as if she was asking him why he was doing this to her.

"Repeat." He whispered.

"Kepa." She said, as if she was praying to one of the gods.

Kepa.

A single, lonely tear ran down her cheek, a sign that she still loved him, her father who had abandoned her, after all these years remaining a small child craving attention and praise, helpless and powerless, beautiful in her suffering.

Noble.

He lifted his hand to her cheek, for some reason wanting to relieve her, to let her know that he understood her, that he didn't think what she felt was a cause for shame.

She shuddered as his thumb brushed the wet mark from her plump cheek, the gaze of her doe eyes fixed on him, only on him.

"Trēsy. Son." He said softly, quietly, as if he was afraid to frighten her, his index finger running over her jaw, admiring the shape of her smooth face.

"Tresy."

"No." He said. "Trēsy. The letter 'ē' needs to be read deeper, as if you want to sing."

"Trēsy."

"Tala. Daugther."

He saw her shake her head, pressing her lips together as if to tell him that she was incapable of doing it, of uttering a word the meaning of which remained foreign to her.

She didn't know what it meant to be someone's daughter, just as he didn't know what it meant to be someone's betrothed, someone's son, someone's brother.

He pressed his forehead against hers, sinking his hand into the back of her neck, stroking soothingly her soft skin, feeling himself grow hard, his breath deep and uneven, filled with desire.

Her closeness was never forced, he thought with tenderness, to which his heart thumped harder in his chest.

Just like with her dragon, she allowed him to approach her when he wished, watching her from afar, circling around her until he himself, of his own accord, fell again and again into her arms.

"Tala."

"Hāedar." He hummed, feeling his erection throb hard in his breeches, his gaze fixed on her face. "Little sister."

She opened her eyes upon hearing those words, and he saw what he wanted in her hazy, hot gaze.

She was wet.

She merely sighed as his other hand did what he had longed to do since supper, touching her knee, travelling lazily upwards to her place of pleasure.

"Hāedar." She exhaled, her puffy, pink lips parted sweetly, her hard nipples peeking through her robe.

Gods, how he craved her.

I'm going to caress her, he thought, and then I'll take her here, on this table.

"Lēkia." He breathed out in a trembling voice, closing his hand over her womanhood, her eyebrows arching in disbelief as a quiet, innocent moan broke from her throat. "Older brother."

Say it, he thought, feeling his cock twitch in his breeches in impatience, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"Lēkia." She moaned as if calling out to him, begging him to end her suffering, and his hand immediately clenched in her hair allowing his mouth, swollen with desire, to close on hers in a greedy, hot kiss.

She gasped in his throat as their one lustful kiss turned into a second, a third and a fourth – a surprised murmur of delight broke from his lips as her soft hand touch his cheek, combing through his hair at last, her closeness so unforced, tender, warm, innocent, desired.

He thought he had never allowed himself to be kissed on the mouth by Madam, while his lips sank again and again into her helpless sobs of pleasure, breathing hard with the loud clicks of their saliva, his impatient, slick tongue forced its way deep into her hot throat as his hand lifted the material of her robe higher.

She mewled and shuddered all over, clasping her hands on his body as his fingertips finally dug into the leaking, silken structure of her folds – he groaned low, surprised to feel her cunt pulsing all over, hot and moist under his fingers, ready for his further caresses.

She wanted this.

She wanted him inside her.

He thought his cock was about to burst with desire, but he knew he couldn't take her yet, so in an act of desperation he grabbed one of her hands and pressed it against the throbbing, hard bulge in his breeches.

They both groaned, panting into each other's mouths, teasing each other with the tips of their wet tongues as, while his fingers circled around her little pearl, she trailed over his long, swollen manhood.

He pulled her to him, embracing her around the waist, feeling her sweet nipples pushing against the material of his tunic as her swollen lips and soft thighs parted invitingly before him with her cry of pleasure, the tips of his fingers pushing against her slit, ready to slide into her and feel how tight and warm she was.

A voice stuck in their throats and they both pulled away from each other as if burned, terrified when they heard someone open the door – in some subconscious, involuntary reflex he wiped his fingers, sticky with her wetness against his breeches, her hands quickly leaving the material of her robe down.

When he saw Floris's grave face he closed his eyes and sighed, feeling his heart pounding like mad in bitterness and disappointment, his cock pulsing and twitching in his trousers, not understanding why he had interrupted their caresses when what he had experienced was so pleasurable.

So right.

"The guards told me I would find you here, my Prince. I did not know you would have company." She said quietly, and he looked ahead with a blank stare, wondering how he could believe that she would just go to sleep, that she would not move after him, suspicious and full of concerns.

Rightful concerns, moreover.

"I am teaching my cousin the language of Old Valyria. It is the only way she can communicate with her dragon." He said, feeling only weariness and fatigue, not having the strength to look at her or speak to her.

He knew he had been cruel, but there was nothing he could do about it.

If she had been wiser, she would have seen that he did not care about her or her welfare and would have asked her father herself to break off their betrothal, not wanting to suffer such humiliation.

She, however, preferred to remain the prince's betrothed, even if unwanted one.

Floris walked over to the table and flipped through one of the pages, pretending to understand anything of what was written there.

"May I join you? I would also like to learn the language of your ancestors, my love." She said, and although he clearly asked her not to touch him, her hand laid on his shoulder.

He closed his eyes, feeling an unpleasant shudder.

Her hand on his shoulder or between his thighs, what difference did it make?

"I will not be able to concentrate with you standing by my side, my Lady." He whispered in a weak voice, for some reason feeling humiliated, having the urge to cry like a child.

Take your hand off me, he thought, but her hand slipped lower, to his forearm.

"Does my presence disturb you, my love?" She asked, but more than her question, his attention was drawn to the fact that his cousin wanted to get up from her seat.

"I'll leave you alone. With your permission." She said, and he pressed his lips together, feeling panic.

No, he thought.

Don't leave me alone with her.

"Daor, hāedar."

She looked at him in shock, her lips parted slightly in disbelief, her eyebrows arched in pain, in her eyes warmth, tenderness and something else from which he felt a pleasant tingling in his fingertips as he watched her sit back in her seat.

She stayed.

"What did you say, my love?" Floris asked, and he licked his lower lip, feeling impatience.

"I don't allow it. We are not finished yet. Soon her dragon will move to fight at my side and she must be ready. I ask that you never interrupt us again. If you wish, we will take a walk around the royal gardens tomorrow, just as you desire." He said, willing to give her what she wanted as long as she left him alone and took her hand off him.

"Is it because she is your cousin? Like any Targaryen you prefer your own kin?" His betrothed asked with anger, and something snapped inside him – his fists hit the table with all his might, both of them jumping as he stood up like an enraged lion, thinking he was going to kill this whore with his own hands.

Who the fuck was she to speak to him like that?

He could have had her tongue for that and sent it in a small casket to her father as a warning so that none of his daughters would appear in the Red Keep again.

"Lēkia." He heard her pleading voice, her soft hand gently touching his arm in an attempt to stop him.

He looked at her, at his hāedar, at her sweet face red with emotion, her gaze full of request, her puffy lips parted in an uneven, deep breath.

If he could, he would kiss her again, her moist lips, her long neck, her plump breasts, her hard nipples, her smooth stomach, to finally sink his face into her leaking, soft cunt.

For a moment he considered doing this, he decided, however, that doing so would humiliate her, and he did not want that.

Her hand let go of him when she saw that the first wave of his anger had passed, replaced by a second, much more threatening one.

He looked at his betrothed, at her face twisted in a grimace of anger and pain, at her eyes filled with tears.

She had come to marry the image of a man, not him.

"I will consider that you never said it, my Lady. Otherwise I would have to recognise that you intended to insult me and my family. And that would mean, in turn, that my betrothed is a fool. Is that how it is, my Lady?" He asked with a sneer in his voice, the corner of his mouth twitching when he saw the frown on her forehead at his words.

"No, my Prince. I am not." She said, looking at his cousin in a way he didn't like, before he could say anything, however, Floris turned and walked away, leaving them alone.

Silence fell – he glanced at his cousin out of the corner of his eye, partly hoping that they would finish what they had started, still half-hard, but he saw that her face was turned away in embarrassment, her figure bent.

Unlike him, she had a sense of shame, he thought regretfully.

"You may leave." He said.

She nodded and moved towards the door, as if she was afraid that if she looked at him she wouldn't hold back and they would both sin even more than they already had.

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard as the door closed behind her – he sat down in his chair, undid the belt from his tunic and untied his breeches, immediately putting his hand inside them.

He groaned throatily and leaned his forehead down, pressing it against the wooden table top, imagining that he was actually cuddling it to her sweet breasts, gripping his erection in his palm.

He imagined how he would do this to her – how gentle his thrusts into her delicate, warm body would be, rocking his hips lazily back and forth, rolling them each time his fingers squeezed the base of his swollen, pink cock, sighing in pleasure.

"– hāedar – oh, fuck –" He exhaled, speeding up, panting hard, imposing a more aggressive, faster pace on himself, squeezing his painfully hard erection with loud smacks of his palm against his stones, feeling that he would reach his peak embarrassingly quickly.

"– ah –" He moaned like a little boy, feeling tears under his eyelids at the thought of how great the relief that shook his body was, his mouth wide open as his pearly, sticky spend trickled down his fingers.

For a moment more he moved his hips in rhythm with his hand, imagining that he was deep inside her, in her warmth, snuggled between her soft breasts, calm and safe.

And then he opened his eyes and felt a squeeze in his throat, seeing the books and the candles all around him, feeling an embarrassing, painful emptiness.

His jaw trembled, his breath became heavy, but he did not allow himself to shed any tears, getting up from his seat, bringing himself to order.

He was just fastening the belt of his tunic when one of the guards suddenly rushed in, terrified.

"My Prince. Your prisoner has been attacked."

He stood over her bed feeling that he was quivering with rage, not hearing his mother's or his brother's discussion, looking at her gentle face immersed in sleep.

"Will she survive? We need her. How the fuck could this happen?" Aegon said, pacing around the room furiously, running his hand over his chin.

"In my opinion, she was hit in the back of the head with a long, heavy object, after which her head hit something hard again, probably the stone floor. This night will determine her death or life. If there has been bleeding inside her skull, nothing can be done." The Maester said, and he looked away, staring at Floris' face, who stood beside his mother, pale, afraid to lift her gaze to him.

For a moment he wondered, sure that it was her doing, whether to expose her in front of his brother, then, however, he decided that she might begin to say something about what she had seen, to spread rumours about his and his cousin's relationship.

He had to deal with her himself.

"We have fucking enemies everywhere. Maybe it was her father who sent someone to get rid of her?" His brother continued, thinking out loud.

Floris looked at him and nodded.

"It is very possible, Your Grace. Certainly Prince Daemon is furious that she managed to tame a dragon. Poor girl." She said, as if she was actually worried and sympathised with her, and he looked at her, grinning broadly.

I'm going to fucking kill you, he thought.

"Aemond. Do you find this amusing?" His mother said to him, snapping him out of his reverie.

"I find it very amusing, mother, because I think I know who did it." He said lightly, glancing at his brother, who spread his arms in a gesture of invitation.

"So tell us this secret." He said, and he looked at his betrothed with a smile.

"As soon as I am sure. Meanwhile, I will escort my betrothed to her chambers. She must surely be tired, and I do not wish to see her suffer a similar fate to my poor cousin." He sneered, cocking his head, stepping towards her.

"No need, my Prince, don't bother." She muttered, panicking, unable to look him in the eye as he towered over her.

"I insist."

Floris Baratheon's head slammed into the wall with all his strength as soon as the door to her chamber closed behind them – he grabbed her by the throat, holding the blade of his dagger against her chin.

"You will return to Storm's End and tell your illiterate father that our betrothal was broken because of you. Furthermore, you will tell him what you did to my cousin. You will say that the Crown could not, because of your unacceptable behaviour, bring about our marriage, but that the agreement between your father and the Realm is still in force. If your father objects, I will come to Storm's End on Vhagar once more, and I promise you that you will meet the fate of my nephew, you dumb, insolent cunt." He growled and let her go – Floris fell to her knees, drew in her air loudly and burst out sobbing, curling up in fear.

"– why are you hurting me? – I have nothing to do with it, I swear –" She mumbled, choking on her own tears.

"– and I swear you that if you insist on becoming my wife, I will hurt you every morning and every evening, for all the days of your life, and then I will fuck my cousin in the chamber next door so that you can listen to what pleasure means, which you will never know from me – you are to leave the Red Keep with the first light –" He said coldly and left, closing the door behind him with a loud slam.

When he returned back to her chamber, there were only the physicians and the Maester, who was supervising their work, laying cold cloths on her forehead.

"Did she get a fever?" He asked, sitting down beside her on the soft bed, touching her cheek.

It was hot.

"Yes." He said, bringing a new bowl of water and ice.

"Leave it. I'll do it myself." He said, rising from his seat, undoing the belt and buckles of his leather tunic, staying only in his white linen shirt tucked into his breeches.

"I will come to examine her again in an hour, my Prince." Said the Maester and bowed to him, leaving him alone with her.

He sat back on the bed beside her, pulling the cloth from her face, sinking it anew into the cold water only to place it on her warm forehead again.

"– umbagon lēda nyke, zaldrītsos (stay with me, little dragon) –" He hummed tenderly, his hand moving from her forehead higher, combing her soft hair with his fingers.

"– kepa –"

He froze, looking at her in pain, her brow arched in misery.

She thought he was Daemon.

He swallowed hard, leaning toward her, stroking her head with his hand as if she were a small child.

"– shhh –" He hushed her, his full lips pressing a soft, warm kiss on her hot forehead. "– you're safe now –"

She opened her eyes – he saw her tears, glistening in the candlelight, running down the sides of her face, as if his words had both hurt and soothed her.

He sighed as her small hand lifted to cup his scarred cheek, the tips of her fingers brushed against his skin.

"– lēkia –" She mumbled, something about the way she said it, the relief he saw in her eyes, made their lips press together in a sticky, tender kiss.

"– mmm –" She sighed as he repeated the caress with a quiet click of their saliva, running his thumb over her jaw and chin, sinking into the moist sweetness of her plump lips again and again, uniting with her in that innocent, intimate way.

They both breathed heavily as he pulled away from her, looking at each other for a moment, his erection pulsing hard in his breeches, letting him know he had to stop.

He couldn't take her now.

He hummed, seeing that she closed her eyes again, stroking her hot, rosy cheek with his thumb, her face nuzzled into his hand.

"– sleep, little sister – your brother will stay by your side –"

[illyrianbrat]

Prisoner (Part 2)

Set: Middle of season 1 to beginning of season 2

Pairing: (kind of) Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon female!reader, (platonic) overprotective!Jacaerys Velaryon x Velaryon female!reader

Warnings: typical westori violence, curse words/spoilers for both seasons but especially season 2, everyone being absolutely stupid, conversations about characters that were offed, major character death, talks of forced marriage, being made prisoner, bruises, scrapes, minor talk about weight and not eating

Plot: One of Viserys Targaryen’s final wishes was to see them married. To please him, Rhaenyra allowed her daughter to stay in the Red Keep alone, not knowing it would be a terrible mistake.

(Part 1)

"The Crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the Crown, then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly." Viserys stood at the head of the table, his gaze sweeping over his family. "For this reason, I would also like to propose a marriage between Aemond and the princess."

Your ears began ringing, not being able to hear what Rhaenyra or Alicent were saying. Your eyes found Aemond's, who wore a sly smirk. Marry? Him? You could feel your family's stares, waiting for an answer. Daemon squeezed your hand in comfort.

Knowing there was nothing he could do or say in this situation, Jace got up and invited Helaena to dance, to Aegon’s dismay, while Luke chatted with Baela and Rhaena.

Aemond sat there, staring at his future wife. He sensed you were displeased by the news, but he did not know what he felt. He had never expressed his true feelings to anyone, but Aemond had been interested in you when you were children. He suppressed those feelings after losing his eye, convinced you now hated him. What he didn't know was that you did harbor resentment toward him, especially after hearing how he spoke to your brothers that night and his attempt to harm Jace.

He banged the table before standing up. "A final tribute. To the health of my nephews, Jace... Luke... and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise... strong," Aemond spoke, barely suppressing a smirk. "Come... let us drain our cups to these three... Strong boys. And to my soon-to-be Strong wife."

"I dare you to say that again," Jace warned him, fists clenched.

"Why? 'Twas only a compliment. Don't you consider yourself Strong?"

Jace punched Aemond, who retaliated by shoving him to the ground. Meanwhile, Aegon pinned Luke down on the table. You stood up, defiantly facing your future husband. With a low chuckle, you raised your hand and slapped him. Before you could say another word or raise your hand again, Daemon grabbed your forearm.

"Why would you say such a thing in front of everyone?" Alicent reprimanded, clearly embarrassed.

"I was merely expressing my pride in my family, Mother," Aemond replied casually. "Though it seems my nephews and niece aren't quite as proud of theirs."

"Wait, wait!" Daemon interjected, raising a cautionary finger toward his children.

"Go to your quarters. All of you, now," Rhaenyra commanded, and they obeyed, not wanting to escalate the situation further. "It's best if we return to Dragonstone," she told Alicent firmly.

"You've only just arrived," Alicent murmured, rubbing Rhaenyra's wrist. "Besides, Helaena wanted to share some things with the princess."

Rhaenyra sighed. "Let me escort the children home. I'll return on dragonback."

---

"My darling," Rhaenyra lamented as you embraced her. "We're going back to Dragonstone. You're to stay here."

"What?" You stuttered, pulling away. "Why?"

"Queen Alicent says Helaena wants to spend time with you. I'll take the children home and come back soon. It'll be alright," Rhaenyra reassured, caressing your cheek and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"No," you pleaded. "Let me come with you."

Rhaenyra hugged you again, holding you close. A worried feeling crept over her. You sat together on the bed, with you clinging to your mother, not wanting to let go. Rhaenyra stayed with you, gently playing with your hair and humming lullabies.

Hours later, after Rhaenyra retired to her quarters, you paced with fists clenched. The events of the day weighed heavily on your mind, especially your betrothal to Aemond.

“Dear wife, are you still thinking about that?” You flinched, turning around. Aemond stood inside your chambers, holding a small box in his hand.

“How dare you come in here after what you said during supper,” you retorted sharply.

“It was only a harmless compliment, no need to make a fuss,” Aemond replied dismissively, ignoring your anger. You scoffed at his audacity. “I wanted to speak to you.”

“Get out, now,” you ordered, but instead of leaving, Aemond swiftly approached you. “Get out!”

“This is for you,” Aemond said casually, opening the box to reveal a ring adorned with rubies, made from Valyrian steel. "I’ve always planned to give you this since we were children. Deep down, I knew the King always wished for us to be married.”

You were bewildered, unsure of his intentions. “What is it you truly want? For me to forget how you, Aegon, and the rest of your family treated mine? How you almost bashed Jace’s head with a rock?”

Aemond merely hummed, slipping the ring onto your finger despite your attempts to pull away. “It suits you.”

You stood in tense silence, locking eyes. After what felt like an eternity, Aemond left the quarters, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You glanced down at the ring on your finger, twiddling it nervously.

---

You woke to daylight streaming into your room. As you prepared to meet with Helaena, you tried to open the door, only to find it locked. Confused, you pulled at it again and knocked loudly, expecting the guard to correct the mistake. “Ser? The door is locked!”

“I cannot let you out, princess,” a knight’s voice came from the other side.

“Why not?” you asked, growing annoyed. “Open the door.”

“You are to remain in your quarters until further notice. This is King Aegon’s order.”

Your eyes widened. “King Aegon?”

The knight did not respond, indifferent to the banging on the door.

You had not seen anyone all day, only a maid who brought you meals and quickly exited the quarters.

It was late, and the absence of the moon made the air feel thick, almost suffocating. "Lucerys is dead," Alicent informed you, her tone dry and lacking sympathy. “It happened last night, above Storm’s End.”

You remained still, though you felt your body shaking as tears filled your eyes. As soon as Alicent exited, your knees buckled. You wept, Lucerys Velaryon was gone.

Your sobs echoed through the Red Keep.

Queen Alicent began to worry about the possible consequences, fearing that Rhaenyra would retaliate for the throne and the death of her son. She also worried because you were refusing to eat, lying in your bed, and crying yourself to sleep.

Aemond hadn't visited you either.

It felt as if they had forgotten about you.

Part 3

[cherryheairt]

Dragon Dreamer pt. XII

going forward, I will be changing a lot of events. ik GRRM HATES to see me coming. Some will be small, others will be big. I want Daenys to play a much bigger role in the Dance, and take creative liberties on stuff the show did not show us or stuff that would be in s3.

tags: @beebeechaos @r-3dlips @emery-aka-emmy @watermel0nsugarhigh @delaynew @hueanhdang @purple-1995 @fall-winter-heart97 @thelastemzy @saintkittykat @littleblackcatinwonderland @pedro-pascal-love @reyndaisy @theadharablack @thatkindofgurl @alexandra-001 i missed y'all its been almost a week

When Daenys learned that Corlys, her grandsire, was severely injured and may be on his deathbed, she was distraught. Her main concern wasn't for Corlys, she knew that since he survived such a brutal attack to his throat, he would endure well. Salt and sea, the Velayron man was. The sea did not take him that day, nor would it for many years. She did not forsee it, nor did she feel the impending doom of death when she thought of him.

The impending doom did not come from Corlys, who lie in a comatose state in Driftmark, but from Vaemond Velayron. The aura of black and blue surrounded him like a defensive shield, striking out when another got near. Never married or siring any legitimate children, Vaemond only cared for himself and his power-hungry interests.

While she resented being forced to come along to King's Landing while Rhaenyra defended Luke's claim to Driftmark, she was glad to support her brother. If anyone would make a good leader, it would be Lucerys.

She was vulnerable here, in the snakepit that was the capitol. Even in the crowd surrounding the throne, filled with the people who would testify either for or against Lucerys' claim, she felt many different eyes on her.

Alicent Hightower, her soft brown eyes hardened at the sight of Rhaenyra and her children. Every time Daenys glanced her way, even briefly, she looked down upon the younger lady with a scornful sneer. Similar looks were cast to Rhaenyra, who clutched her boys protectively. Daemon stood next to his wife, in between Daenys and Rhaenyra, respectively. An amused smile was placed on his lips during the whole precession.

Aegon Targaryen, who's gaze flitted around the room in ever-increasing boredom. Occasionally, he stared at Daenys, but with a blank look in his eyes that gave away his zoned out mind. He would rather be anywhere but here.

Helena Targaryen, who Daenys missed greatly in their time apart. Ravens had not been enough, she missed her company. Whenever Daenys met Helena's eyes, the bored look that Helena also held brightened, and she smiled across the aisle at her niece.

Aemond Targaryen, who's one eye had not left Daenys the whole time. The dark purple hue seemed to be a void of emotion, with Aemond giving away none of his feelings on his face. He had grown taller and leaner since their time in Driftmark. A true dragonrider. Daenys had only sent him one letter, apologizing profoundly for Luke's actions, sending him an embroidered eyepatch for good measure. An image of Vhagar, though condensed greatly to fit on the small black leather canvas. Aemond had never sent any letters back, to her knowledge. Perhaps he was looking at her with blame and distain, an emotion he didn't hide while looking at Daenys' brother.

Across the aisle, a ways behind Vaemond, who stood in the middle, Rhaenys stood with her ward Baela and her twin Rhaena. Through the years, Daenys had grown much closer to Rhaena since she had lived on Dragonstone with Daemon and them. They had grown to become true sisters, a strong connection between the two. Rhaena was quiet compared to her twin but grew more outgoing during her years at Dragonstone. Baela, during her ward with their grandmother, unfortunately grew distant with her sister and father unintentionally.

Rhaenys greeted Daenys with a hug and kissed the young girl's head during their walk inside the Red Keep. They exchanged many letters after Laenor's passing, bond growing from their mutual loss. Rhaenys was quite lonely, only having Baela on Driftmark for company while Corlys was out at sea for years at a time.

When Otto Hightower summoned Rhaenyra to vie for her son's claim, she began strong.

"I would start by reminding you all that twenty years ago, in this very room—"

The grand doors opened, revealing a guard who announced, "King Viserys Targaryen; King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and protector of the realm."

The court held their breath while Viserys staggered down the aisle. Bedridden for years, Viserys had not attended court in half a decade. Daenys grimaced at the sight of her grandsire, though she refused to look away respectfully. Alicent and her father stiffened at the sight of Viserys, thinking that they had the processesion going exactly the way they planned—in their favor.

Viserys would defend his firstborn, no matter what.

Rhaenyra gave her father a grateful look, relief coming from her in waves as she stood back to her original spot. The rest of Rhaenys' and Viserys' words were tuned out to Daenys. All she cared for was the betrothal announcements between her brothers and stepsisters. The rest was useless, knowing that Viserys would establish Luke as heir to driftmark firmly and without question.

Vaemond's yell tore her from her thoughts. "Her children...are BASTARDS!" He screamed to the courts, making Luke and Jace flinch in Rhaenyra's hold.

Daenys shuffled uncomfortably next to Daemon, while he stepped subtlely in front of her. "Say it." He hissed out quietly, urging Vaemond on as he clutched Dark Sister's black pommel.

Vaemond took the bait, turning to Rhaenyra spitefully. "And she. is. a whore." Every word was enunciated strongly.

Viserys, wheezing, stood from the Iron Throne with his dagger clutched in his bony hand. "I will have your tongue for that."

A sudden 'splat!' caught everyone's attention first. Helena gasped, covering her ears and shutting her eyes tight at the bloody sight. Daemon had cut off Vaemond's head, leaving it to drop to the floor, followed by the rest of his body. Daenys held a gag at the sight and smell of fresh blood, turning her eyes away from the gore.

Aemond, across from her, finally lifted his pursed hips into a smirk, eye gleaming at he stared at Daemon.

"Seize his weapons!" Otto Hightower demanded, though Daemon was swift to clean off his sword and sheath it again.

"No need." He said as if nothing had happened.

When Viserys started to shake and wheeze again, attentions were transfixed to the King once more. "Fetch the maesters!" Alicent called out, genuine concern cracking her voice. Perhaps the once good thing about the Queen was her love for her family and husband.

Rhaenyra ushered her kids out swiftly, leaving the room behind. Passing her uncles and aunt, Daenys glanced briefly towards each one.

Aegon finally held an amused expression, looking around the room for reactions and having no concern for his father's condition.

Helena, still covering her ears and turned from Vaemond, followed after Daenys.

Aemond held her stare as she passed, though he did not move so much as a muscle.

Daenys split from her mother and grandmother, telling them she would return for supper. Supposedly, the Hightower-Targaryen family would sup all together for the first time in years after Viserys rested.

Helena led her niece to a spacious and well-lit room by the hand. The floor was littered with toys, though it still appeared clean. Daenys gasped, met with the sight of two white-haired children quietly playing together on a rug.

Helena proudly smiled, removing her other hand from her ear finally and squeezing Daenys' hand. "This is Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. I know I've written to you about them, but I wished for you to meet them, too."

Daenys nodded enthusiastically, earning the attentions of the twins below. Helena and Daenys kneeled together, quite in sync for two ladies who have spent years apart, to greet them.

Daenys introduced herself as 'Aunt Daenys' although she was technically not. Jaehaera seemed to accept the new presence immediately, holding out a wooden wolf for Daenys to take and play with her, another carving of a dragon clutched in her other chubby palm.

Jaehaerys was decidedly more shy, crawling into his mother's lap while he watched his twin and aunt play. Daenys delighted in the activity, knowing her little brothers must be lonely back at Dragonstone, only in the company of their nursemaids. Helena and her chatted through the rounds of playing while Jaehaera dug through a box of toys, inviting Jaehaerys to pick new ones with her.

Hours passed and well into the afternoon, as Helena and Daenys took turns switching off embroidery pieces to find ways to continue each other's art and add to it (their little tradition since they were both young girls). Both were saddened to hear that they were summoned for supper, eager to finish their work before the day ended. Helena's original work was a centipede, Daenys had continuted the piece by making it weave through a field of grass and flowers. Daenys' started with a blue dragon, much like Dreamfyre, and Helena added a snowy white one intertwined with it, a likeness to Morningstar.

"Perhaps I could convince mother to stay an extra few days in the Red Keep, and return on my own on dragonback." Daenys offered Helena as they walked.

She hated the Keep, but never knew how much she truly missed Helena's company until she spent time with her again. She would bear a few nights here, knowing she could avoid everyone and only spend time in the nursery. Daenys was older now, a woman grown. Surely she could handle such things better.

"I should like that," Helena murmured, arms interlaced with Daenys as they walked towards the table. It was only half-filled with members of their family. A spot was left in the very middle for Viserys, occupied on the sides of his space by Alicent and Rhaenyra.

Aemond sat at one head, while Luke and Rhaena took the opposite.

The table seemed to naturally divide by sides, though Daenys chose to sit between Helena and Aemond rather than next to Jace, lest she also be forced next to Aegon.

Alicent offered to pray before they ate, to which Viserys complied with a pleasant smile for his wife. Having never prayed at supper before, Daenys sat awkwardly as others either clasped their hands and closed their eyes, or politely looked down at their plates while Alicent prayed for Vaemond to rest in peace. Daenys had chosen the latter, though she did so in a much nicer way than Daemon did. He held in a snort at the Queen's words, holding no regret for his murder.

The first to make a toast before dinner was served was Viserys. "My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins Baela and Rhaena. A toast to the young princes."

"Hear, hear!" Daemon was first to say in support. Perhaps he benefited the most. He would be King, then his firstborn daughter would be Queen right after through her marriage.

Goblets clinked in toast to the marriage. Many murmured their congratulations, besides the side that Daenys sat in. She felt out of place with her short cheer.

Viserys clanked his cane to the cobble floor, standing up on shaky knees while leaning against the table for assistance. "It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow. The faces most dear to me in all the world—yet grown so distant from each other."

He unclasped his golden half-mask, revealing a missing eye and half rotted face. Daenys struggled to hold her stare, not wanting to displease her grandsire or offend him. "My own face is no longer a handsome one. If it ever was." He jested weakly. "I wish you to see me as I am. Not as your king, but as your father. Your brother. Your husband. Your grandsire. Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts." He pleaded with the people around him, earning either uncomfortable stares or bittersweet ones.

He sat with a heavy sigh, regaining his breath.

Rhaenyra toasted next, voice youthful and strong. "I wish to raise my cup to Queen Alicent. I love my father, but she has tended to him with unfailing devotion and for that she has my gratitude." She faced the queen with a reminiscent smile gracing her face.

Once Rhaenyra sat, Alicent was quick to take her turn. "I raise my cup to you and your house. You will make a fine queen. To further solidify our alliance and newfound love for one another," Alicent rubbed her husband's shoulder sweetly, smiling down at him. "I wish to propose a marriage. Though Aegon is already wed, as our eldest son, Aemond's hand remains free. As does your eldest daughter's."

Daenys stiffened in her seat, meeting Aemond's eye, which remainded composed and unsurprised. Had be brought this to Alicent? Or did Alicent demand it of him?

Viserys' face lifted at the suggestion, placing his hand over Alicent's and looking to Rhaenyra. Not even bothing to look at Daenys or Aemond. "I think it would be a most wonderful idea. Daenys could live here again, and perhaps all of you could come back, too." He hinted.

Rhaenyra was still in her seat, glancing between her father, Alicent, and the two seated at the end. Daenys held a pleading look in her eyes, urging her mother to not agree immediately.

Rhaenyra nodded subtly, sending a placating smile towards the two next to her. Beside her, Daemon scowled and rolled his eyes. "That is a generous offer. I will take some time to consider it."

Alicent nodded her agreement, sitting once more. Daenys forced her heart to stop its rapid beating, knowing her mother had delayed what might become her life's misery. Daenys would not mind Aemond much, nor living with Helena again. But Alicent and Aegon were two figures she could not bear to live with, nor the court that followed their Queen so blindly.

A silence filled the room, as everyone sipped their wine to the many toasts. Aegon lifted himself from his seat with a coy smirk, flitting to the space between Baela and Jace, whispering something that Daenys was not privy to. Jace slammed his hands to the table angrily, startling its occupants. He cleared his throat lightly while Aegon sat himself back in his seat.

Aemond stood, taller than Jacaerys at full height, staring him down from across the table. A warning to Jace that woefully went ignored as the younger started to speak.

"To Prince Aegon and...Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. As men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family's good health, dear uncles." He raised his cup, concluding his shockingly nice speech. Daenys was surprised that he composed himself so well.

"To you as well." Aegon sighed, forced to politeness. Aemond sat, as Helena whispered beside Daenys.

"Beware the beast beneath the boards." No one else must have heard her, and if they did, they decided to ignore her. Helena didn't even seem like she realized that she spoke.

"I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. And perhaps, Daenys, if she does choose to marry my brother." She smiled genuinely to each in turn, a breath of fresh air compared to the tense atmosphere. "They'll be married soon. It isn't so bad, mostly he just ignores you—except sometimes when he's drunk." Her words were meant to be comforting to the bethrothed women, but she clearly had no affectionate experiences in her own marriage, so she could not offer such comforts.

Daenys raised her glass high to her stepsisters, following Helena's toast while Aegon melted into his seat. "Yes, to Baela and Rhaena. We will truly be sisters, soon." She grinned to them, earning raised cups back.

Viserys ordered the music to be started, and immediately Jacaerys stood to action. Daenys looked at him warily, wondering if he had meant his speech as a ploy to lower Aegon and Aemond's guard. He stood behind Daenys' seat, offering a hand to Helena. She took it, slightly confused, while he led to the dance floor from Aegon's side.

The two young aunt and nephew jumped and danced around the empty space near the table, with their parents watching on happily. Daenys watched, too, laughing and clapping at their display. Had they ever had a dinner go so well before?

Aemond stood next to her, sighing through his nose. He offered a hand out to Daenys, too. "I didn't think you would dance." She whispered to him, though did not reject his hand.

"I don't." He said simply. His hand was calloused from years of sword training, though unscarred from no real battle experience. Aemond led her past the young dancers, leading her into a more refined and graceful ballroom dance. Further from the table, they could speak lowly without worry of being overheard.

"Did you receive my letter?" Daenys started, avoiding his intense stare. Even with only one eye, he managed to share a similar look that Daemon had when looking at his niece. Possessive and controlling. He was a far cry from the sweet boy he once was.

"Just the one. All those years ago." He said, narrowing his eye down at her. "Though none of mine have been graced with an answer."

She faultered, "I was unaware that you sent any back."

Aemond pursed his lips, "of course. They must be keeping such things from you. Ever sheltered by Rhaenyra and Daemon on that rock, you remain."

Daenys, though embarrassed, knew he was right. She was quite sheltered, more than most ladies who were presenting themselves to court for suitors. But she did not need to trouble herself with such things. She didn't need a husband.

Daenys moved on, "who's idea was the marriage proposal? Last time there was one between our families, Alicent shot it down."

Aemond glanced at the table towards her family. "I did. My mother had a change of heart, perhaps. It would be beneficial to finally have a reason for our families to bridge this distance between us."

He sounded like he didn't believe his own words, like he was reading from a script.

"Indeed...though I doubt it would be so simple. Things never are between us." She sighed.

"They can be."

She scoffed lightly, looking to her mother and Alicent, who were conversing with soft smiles gracing their features. "They are in good moods now, while Viserys is here to be a deterrent. Even if we married, his death will split us apart."

"Marriage is sacred. Your husband and his children would be whom your loyalties lie with." Aemond stated.

"I would never choose a man over my family." She narrowed her eyes, pausing her practiced steps. "Is that what you want? My loyalties to be pledged to you and your family?"

He stayed silent during her barrage, only clenching his jaw as he listened.

"Or perhaps it is my dragon you want?" She challenged. "I thought you were above the manipulations of your mother and grandsire. Smarter than your dimwitted brother. I was wrong."

"Daenys—" Aemond started to speak, but she pulled her arm from his loose grasp and strided out of the dining hall. She had no reason to listen to his words. Years ago, she had sought a friend in Aemond, the one who shared in her torment. Now, she knew he was just like his mother, calculating and deceitful.

That night, as Rhaenyra and her family headed back to Dragonstone following a tiff between all of their children, Daenys did not dream of Viserys' demise. Rhaenys had stayed the night at the Red Keep alone, being locked in her guest chambers while Aegon was being crowned King. After her escape with the Red Queen Meleys, Rhaenys told Rhaenyra of the news.

Visenya was lost that day.

Daenys was unsure why she didn't see such a catastrophic event like the King's death—but for once she did not blame herself. She blamed the Hightowers and their lust for power.

🗡

Most of the day passed fairly quickly. Cregan and Daenys spent it in solitude, only each other as company. She thought of bringing Cregan back to Dragonstone and returning alone, but wished selfishly for some more time with her bethrothed before she left him. One more day together wouldn't hurt.

After their prayer with the weirwood, Daenys felt invigorated with the sunny weather the day had provided. She turned to Cregan, who eyed her excitement with mock suspicion.

"We should swim," she suggested to him, with an excited glint to her violet eyes.

"Swim? Do you mean at the God's Eye?" Cregan asked. It was the only body of water so close to Harrenhall, but she could always fly to another one of her choosing.

"Yes, I did say that I would bring you swimming one day."

"You said that you wished to." He corrected. "I'm afraid I wouldn't know how, I won't be the most pleasant company."

Daenys snickered, "perhaps I might ask Davos, then. A Riverlander would most definitely enjoy a swim on a day like this one."

He gave her a scorned look, pitful grey puppy eyes downtrodden at the mention of her choosing another man over him for company.

She grabbed his hand, giggling all the while at his expression as she led him outside. "I merely jest, Cregan. You can stay on the shore and watch me." She shrugged playfully.

Cregan hummed, looking her up and down pointedly. "In your dress? We have brought no swimclothes with us."

"I have my shift, I'll make due." She brushed his concern off, lifting her skirts with her spare hand to save them from grass stains. She'd hate to dishonor the lady who previously wore them, after all.

Cregan swallowed beside her, nodding. It's not like he hadn't seen her in her shift, or less than that, but the context was different—he was too worried for her life to concern himself with such frivolous thoughts. Now, both spending their leisure time together, they were free to do as they pleased.

According to courting and bethrothal customs, unmarried men and women shouldn't be without a chaperone. However, it was much too late for either to start caring for traditions.

The walk to the God's eye was brief, though the sun shining on them had earned thin sheens of sweat and flushed faces. Daenys was eager to get into the cooling water, oblivious to Cregan's mental struggles beside her. At the shore of the massive span of water, Daenys began to rid herself of her dress, folding it neatly and placing it on a rock, along with her stockings. Left only in a sheer white shift, she stepped into the water, turning to face Cregan, who was still fully clothed and avoiding eye contact.

"You're sweating buckets, Cregan." She stated, amused at his stubbornness. "At least take your tunic off and dip your feet in. It'll help you cool off."

While ladies were made to wear uncomfortable corsets and dragging dresses, Daenys was always grateful that at least they were cooler than men's many layers. Sometimes up to five or six for a day-to-day outfit, not even mentioning the ones presentable enough for court. Jacaerys oft complained about the heat of King's Landing back when they lived at the arid Keep, though he was relieved by Dragonstone's much more appeasing climates.

Cregan, with his thicker layers meant for permanent chills, must be near passing out. Perhaps she got too excited. They could've enjoyed a nice day in Harrenhall's walls. Maybe.

He obliged when she sent him a secondary beseeching look. He shrugged off his heavy tunic, left in a much lighter cotton undershirt. It hung off his frame much looser, allowing him to acclimatize much faster. The unbuttoned 'V' shape of his neckline hung much lower than that of his tunic, revealing the smooth skin of his chest.

Daenys turned back to hide her expression from him, knowing if he saw it, he would think her uncouth. She waded through the swallow water, soaking herself with the cold water. It was a great relief for the Princess, taking away the uncomfortable sweaty stickiness from her body and replacing it with fresh, cold water. Though she'd never swam in the Riverland lake, it still brought back many fond memories of her father Laenor, a simpler time when she swam almost every sennight. Now, it had been months since she last found time to.

With the water up to her shoulders, she dunked her head in and dived under, eyes quickly adjusting to the freshwater. Unlike the saltiness sting that the ocean always gave her, the lake was much more accommodating. By the time she had emerged, silver hair clinging to her body in the same way her shift did, Cregan was sat in the grainy sand, legs dipped into the water as he watched on.

He grinned when she resurfaced. "Refreshed, my Princess?"

"It would be nicer if you joined." Daenys mused, sharing in his light mood.

"I am perfectly content watching." He avoided her offer with a placating smile. Hands resting leisurely over his knees, simply relaxing in the sun and cooling water's contrast, Cregan really did look content. His face was free of worry, and his rigidly straight posture softened.

She hummed her acknowledgment, knowing she couldn't get him to swim with her this time. One day, she would succeed. Daenys did, after all, comvince an ever-stubborn man of Stark blood to ride a dragon.

After some diving and searching for whatever pretty trinket caught her eye, Daenys dained herself to simply float on top of the water, hands rested on her belly. In one of them, clutched protectively, lie a small grey pearl. In the sunlight, it gleamed a rainbow iridescence. In the shade of her palm, it was perfectly grey. It had taken her an umpteenth amount of tries to find, which she stopped counting after the seventh try, and perhaps a hundred dud pearls that she deemed unworthy. One thing she had learned during her escapades was that she had not lost her touch for the water, still able to hold her breath for long periods of time and open her eyes easily. Still, she was no match for her father's abilities. He took to the water like a true Velayron, disappearing under its depths for minutes at a time.

Daenys wondered when she would get chances to swim up in the cold North. Only when she visited her family, once they had reclaimed the capitol? Such sacrifices were the baselines of marriage for women. She would be more fortunate than most with her dragon as an aid to travel—most women who went so far for marriage never saw their homes again. Cregan clearly held no love for the water. How could he? He was not raised being surrounded by it, instead by mountains of snow and dense woods. She did love the wood, too. The serenity and quietness.

The sun had long since left her skin kissed with light brown freckles, the time apart from lengths in the sun having long since faded her previous ones. When she felt the heat start to irritate her eyelids, she opened them and squinted toward Cregan, who lifted his head from his arms and gaze from the gently waving water to her.

Daenys outstretched an arm lazily to him, beckoning wordlessly for assistance. Perfectly capable of swimming herself the few feet she was from the shallow sand, she felt knackered from the warmth and expending activity.

Cregan chuckled at her reaching, shaking his head teasingly. "You just swam laps around the God's Eye, I'm sure you can manage a few more feet on your own."

"Can't." Daenys said simply.

He raised a brow, smiling, "I'm sorry?"

"I'm incapacitated. Cannot move." She elaborated slowly.

He nodded, even slower, leaning back on his forearms. She forced her eyes not to leave his at the movement and sudden shift of his shirt. "I guess we're stuck here, my Lady."

"Seems that way."

They were at an impasse. One waiting for the other to give up. Stubbon Stark and conquering Targaryen. Eventually, one had to cave. Daenys was confident that she could stay in place for hours, even in the sun, while he would eventually burn up and regret even taking a step from Harrenhall's stone walls.

She relaxed in the water again, rolling the grey pearl between her fingertips idly. Cregan watched on, admiring the glow the sun provided her skin It was afternoon already, they had spent almost all day outdoors. Neither complained, though, for the much-needed distraction.

Daenys was reminded of the simplicities of life that the commonfolk lived. Not the ones in King's Landing, who often were criminals or victims of criminals, working day and night with little reward. No, not them. The ones who lived far from courtly society and its selfish royals. Those who lived in small villages far from big cities, who relied on one another and loved their neighbors like family. Worked hard on their family-owned farms and shops, retiring for the afternoon in their homes and laughed with their loved ones while they feasted on breads and cheeses their neighbors traded to them for handcrafted clothes. Those are the people Daenys envied, who lived full lives and never stopped to wonder what their life might be like in another's place.

She would be very content, she thought, to live a simple life like that. With Cregan as her swordsmith husband, and her as a fisherman. Both returning home at the end of their work days to a gaggle of children running around at their feet, squaking loudly about what they had learned that day. People would come nosing their way into their house over the evening, bringing food and smiles into the house while friends and family sat together. Sara and her husband first, living right next to them. Then, Daenys' mother and Daemon, bringing young Aegon and Viserys in their arms to play with their nieces and nephews. Corlys and Rhaenys, telling tales of how their two children were out enjoying a long voyage together on the open seas. The last ones to join would be Jacaerys and Lucerys, with Baela and Rhaena respectively.

The entire family would sit and talk of their days, as they had every night before that, and retell tales that all have listened to a million times before but never interrupt the joyous expression the storyteller held while speaking. The children would all have their own table, though eventually want to be a part of the adult's conversation and squeeze themselves on top of their parent's laps. The adults, after playfully scolding their babes, would still allow it with a gentle kiss on top of fluffy heads.

The perfect life. One that none of Daenys' loved ones could ever achieve.

The sound of sloshing in the water forced Daenys to focus once more, glancing up to meet Cregan's face staring down at her. Gently, he grabbed her hands and slightly dragged her close to himself, turning her to face him. She grinned up at him, "that was fast."

"I've enjoyed the view all day. I'm not so stubborn as to scorch myself for the sake of pride." Cregan chided. With a large hand resting itself on the dip of her waist, the Lord brought her to the shallowest parts before lifting her to her feet. "Now, is the Princess still too tired to walk, or does she require assistance?"

Daenys steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders, narrowly avoiding touching any bare skin on his chest, though it tempted her. His touch was hot on her waist, burning through even her wet shift. She felt breathless despite her lack of movement, forgetting to speak for a long pause of time.

"Daenys," he murmured lowly, brushing his thumb over the soft skin of her stomach. She was reminded of his size—a true testiment of his ancient Stark blood. Looking down at her past his straight nose, hands large enough to engulf her midsection from the curve of her waist to her belly buttom. From behind Cregan, one might not be able to see Daenys, his broad shoulders and height a perfect sheild.

The touch made her shiver, though she brushed it off as the wet cotton clinging to her skin. "I...Yes, I can walk." She finally managed to mumble out. He smiled once more, leading her out of the water by the hand, though he noticed she switched the pearl to the other to be able to grasp his.

"What have you found, my lady sailor?" He asked, leaning down to squeeze water from his trousers and half of his shirt.

She lifted her palm for him to see the grey pearl, showing it off like a dragon would show its prized treasure. Morningstar, too, had oft stolen whatever shiny thing caught her eye during flights, bringing them to Dragonstone's pit and waiting for Daenys to come down to see it. She had her own little pile of knickknacks, though some of the smaller ones lay in Daenys' chambers. Strangely, none of the others (apart from Syrax) had the same interest in material things.

He straightened, lifting the ball to his eyeline. Daenys bit her cheek to stop her grin from getting any bigger. It was a perfect match to his own eye. She only kept the pearl for the theory, being too far from Cregan to keep bringing little pearls back and bother him with silly comparisons. She simply went off her memory, which seemed to serve her perfectly.

"It's a...?" He left space for an answer, not entirely sure of it himself. Right, she thought. He'd never left the North. They don't eat much seafood there, so there's no cause to learn about sea life besides the few species of fish that graced their waters.

"I forgot, you've never been so far down before." She hummed. "A pearl. Formed in clams or muscles—I like to keep any that catch my interest."

"I've heard of them. Used for necklaces, right?" He asked, placing the pearl in her palm again after she twisted her own skirts.

Daenys nodded. "I've made a few of my own, though I can't wear them to court. Too juvenile, my mother says. Sometimes, I can put them into my hair, but the process takes too long to make it a common accessory."

"I'd like to see that." Cregan said softly, admiring the way she scrunched her hair to attempt to dry it quicker. With the retained water, the silver hair looked a darker milky grey. It made the purple hue of her eyes stand out more, especially in the daylight.

Twisting the bottom of her skirts, Daenys laughed. "My maid won't be happy to hear that. Perhaps I'll have to teach you how to put them into braids, if you'd truly like to see it."

He handed the pearl back to her once she finished. "I would be happy to learn, if only to ease the burden of your poor maid."

Daenys picked up her dress from its place on the rock, finding it pleasently warmed. She didn't put it back on, knowing it would only get wet from her shift. She'd have to be swift when returning to her chambers, lest Davos, Simon, or any of Simon's sons see her in such a state. Cregan did the same, carrying both of their clothes bundled up under an elbow.

As they walked, Cregan spoke up. "I have been to the capitol. Once, briefly, but that visit was enough to last a lifetime."

Daenys perked up, turning to Cregan as they walked together. "I've never seen you before. Was it recent?"

He shook his head. "Actually, it was for your nameday tourney."

She groaned. "Of course. I hated those every year, but my grandsire insisted that all of his children and grandchildren got a tourney for their nameday celebrations. Starks do not typically attend tourneys, seeing as they happen so often. What made you come?"

At her complaint, he snorted briefly. "I was one and ten at the time, two years before my father passed. He insisted that I was old enough to attend court at the capitol, and it had been many years since he had attended himself—the last being to swear an oath to your mother.

I was a young, excited boy who was ill-equipped to handle the secret meanings behind Southerner's words. I took everything literally, not knowing that everyone I spoke to was insulting me to my face."

Daenys hummed sympathetically. "Yes, it is a nasty habit. Whatever could they have insulted you for?" She asked, curious.

He blushed slightly, a tinging of red dusting his ears. "My accent, my looks, whatever they saw that seemed 'different'. Back then, I was all gangly limbs and height, not yet experienced in swordtraining. They hid such distastes in compliments, something I was not aware of until I told my father, and he warned me to both speak and listen carefully in the Crownlands."

"Your looks?" She was bemused by the implication. Surely, no one would find Cregan uncomely. Even in the awkward youth years. Or his accent, a small part of her mind said. His accent was perhaps her favorite part of Cregan, it made her mind go hazy whenever he spoke more than his usual curt sentences. Another Stark trait was to not speak more than necessary.

He shrugged, "Starks have prominent genes. We've always had dark hair, straight noses, long faces, and perhaps taller frames than most men. We are not bred to be pretty, like some are."

Her mind went to the peacocking men that were born and bred in the Crownlands and the places attached to it. Of course, ladies of the realm were meant to be pretty, and if they were not, then at least they were trained to act elegantly. Though, the men were often 'pretty' too. The Hightowers, for example, were a picture of good genetics. Otto Hightower's two children, Alicent and Gwayne, were both considered beautiful with their auburn hair and dark eyes. Though Gwayne was a knight, he was sought after by many. The two must have taken after their mother Alerie since Otto looked nothing like either. The Tyrells, too, were considered blooming flowers of beauty, well-groomed and mannered.

The Targaryens, Velayrons, and Daynes all held traits that the realm agreed to be most beautiful. Whores dyed their hair silver just to be paid more, and men sought after them twice as much as a regular looking woman. Tales were written of Valyrion women, even by those who've never laid eyes on one. Songs were sung by bards, poems written by romantics, gossip spread like wildfire when another was presented to court. Daenys had heard a few about herself, to her surprise. Though the realm did not hold her in high regard, her beauty was apparently taken the opposite. A song had once called her 'The Dawn's Light' for her silver waves and lighter-than-most violet eyes. A poem called her 'The Dreamer Reborn' but moreso as a statement than a compliment. She scarsely heard any gossip since her leave from the capitol, so any other poems or songs in her name went unknown. Similar to her mother, 'The Realm's Delight' she was given such titles as a young girl. Women did not earn their titles from great accomplishments but rather their looks alone, most of the time.

The Valyrion-featured men, too, were hauntingly charming in looks just as their female counterparts were. Aemond was considered a handsome young prince before being named 'Aemond One-Eye'. Aegon, too, was conventionally handsome when his mouth was shut. Daenys was quite unsure of Daemon or Viserys' looks, seeing as they were both no longer in their prime youth at the time Daenys was born. Though she was sure her father Laenor was widely known to be a charmingly handsome man, for his sailing adventures had proven him a popular figure to men and women alike.

"Perhaps you are not pretty." She started, smirking up at him. "No Northern men could be, with their laborious lives. Handsome is more fitting, I would say. Though mayhaps other ladies can only assume a Northern man to be a brutish and unrefined beasts of men, simply because they are unused to different appearences."

Truly, Cregan was taller and broader than most, even more impressive for his young age. He would surely make most Andal men question their own masculinity, to which the Andals would turn to insults to counter their insecurities.

Cregan hummed thoughtfully, holding an almost bashful smile. "Not many southern ladies would consider a Stark 'handsome'. Especially a Velayron. None from the North have married a Valyrion." He mentioned.

"We are the first, then."

"Indeed," he took her hand in his, forgoing joining arms for the warmth of their hands. His hand, even interlaced with her own, was calloused and large. Quite like a paw, she bit back from saying. Without his leather gloves that he had to don in the cold, she felt the safety of his protection right in his palm.

"How was the tourney beside the cold welcome you received? I remember that my father Laenor fought in it, as he only cared for those dreadful tourneys when it was one of our namedays."

A part of her wished to have met him back then. Perhaps she could have made a friend, her first one that was not of her own blood.

"More boring than I expected. As a boy, I wished to be a great jouster to show off my house pride, but it wasn't at all what I expected." He said. "Also, I was quite disappointed to find that the star of the tourney was missing from the Royal Pavillion."

Daenys blushed, unable to meet his amused look. "I only stayed to watch my father's joust. I made appearances, then left when no one's eyes were on me."

"Everyone's eyes are on you, Princess." He chuckled.

She nodded slightly. "Unfortunately. That is something I dreaded during those days. Who did end up winning that tourney? I forget."

Cregan shrugged once more, "I don't know either. I didn't stay til the end."

At her confused glance, he continued. "I got bored of watching men fall from horses. So, I wondered off to explore the 'Great Red Keep' I had heard so many things about. I got lost in the halls—which are much too big for one family, in my opinion—and stumbled upon the very princess that was missing."

Daenys furrowed her brows together, trying to recall ever meeting a young Cregan Stark. "I don't think I remember speaking to you."

Cregan shook his head. "I never found the courage to approach you. But I knew who you were, even from afar. You sat at a windowsil, overlooking the crowds of people. You looked so lonely, with that wistful look in your eyes."

"Why didn't you talk to me, then?" She asked him.

"I was scared that you might think of me the same way the other young ladies did. Though you looked lonely, you also had a peaceful aura that I could not dare to disturb."

She nodded her agreement. "I have grown used to enjoying my own company. Though, I have grown to enjoy yours, more."

He squeezed her hand lightly. "You shall not be alone anymore, ever. If I have a say in it."

They reached Harrenhall at a more leisure pace than they had left with. The sun was starting to set now, and their bellies were rumbling with hunger. Daenys and Cregan jogged through the halls of Harrenhall, luckily not running into any people on the way. They shut the door to Daenys' room behind them, giggling and laughing like a pair of juveniles sneaking under their parent's noses. Cregan and Daenys politely turned while changing together, underclothes long since drying during their walk.

Daenys sat at the creaky vanity she was provided, unbothered by the water rotted wood. If it worked, it worked. At least the mirror was clean. She worked to brush through her drying hair, a plain giveaway to her activities. Her hair was famously hard to dry, her vigerous routine for her hair alone taking hours each week. Without any of the oils and soaps that she had on Dragonstone, Daenys found that her hair dulled slightly in the North, only being restored when she returned home. She hoped it would not do so again at Harrenhall. Though she did not think herself to be a vain woman, she cared for her hair greatly. It was something she had grown for years, having not cut it since her father passed.

The last haircut she had was done by her father, who taught her how to take the best care of it and always styled it despite her maids being well able to. Daenys knew she'd eventually have to trim it again, but she'd prolonged it for years already in a weak attempt to keep his every memory.

The pearl sat next to the brush while she started to plait her hair up in a braided romantic tuck, which would leave no hair cascading down her hair. If it was all so bunched up, none would notice its dampness.

Cregan sat himself on her bed, tunic placed loosely on in his idleness. There was no need to trap himself fully in his warm clothing until they needed to be presentable. His eyes never left her as she threaded expertly through her hair, seemingly zoning out as he did.

She finished as fast as she could, perhaps a little sloppy. But, she didn't wish for Cregan to be left waiting in boredom too long. Daenys stood from her stool, turning to her bethrothed. She patted her hair down slightly, brushing over it to neaten it. "Im sorry, I worked as fast as I could."

Smiling patiently, Cregan stood and took her hands from her hair, kissing her knuckles tenderly. "Don't worry. I have never seen such perfection, my beautiful Daenys."

Taken aback, Daenys found herself utterly speachless. Where had that come from?

"Thank you, Cregan." She murmured, finding only enough propriety to unconsciously respond to a compliment. My?

His smile seemed to deepen at her pause, taking her by the same hand he kissed and leading her outside of the room. "Let's have our supper, I'm sure the other guests of Harrenhall are wondering where we are."

Daenys nodded, following at his side to the dining room. The halls had started to become familiar to Daenys, even though it had only been barely two days since they arrived. Around the table already sat the majority of Harrenhall's residents. Simon, of course, and his small family, who mostly stayed quiet as mice. Davos, who sat slouched back in his seat, spinning his utensil upon the table with a frustrated expression. Daemon, too, though he looked drowsy still. Slightly faraway, like he was in a permanent waking dream.

As Daenys passed him, he glanced up at her. His eyes cleared slightly, a nearly horrified look on his face. "Rhaenyra?" He asked, sitting up in his seat.

Daenys exchanged a glance with Cregan, staring down at her stepfather afterwards. "Rhaenyra is still at Dragonstone." She said carefully.

In their shared native tongue, Daenys could speak without giving anything away to the others in the room, who stared at them in bemusement.

Daemon squinted at her for a few more seconds, sitting back into his seat once more and blinking harshly. He nodded, saying nothing else.

Daenys needed to visit Alys again. Perhaps she would know something about Daemon's strange behavior. Or perhaps she was the reason for it. The tea was something she did not partake in and would not attempt to now that she saw Daemon's weariness. But, she would not yet point any fingers until she confronted the woman.

Daenys sat herself between Davos and Cregan, prepared to soothe the impaitients and frustration that she knew Davos was experiencing.

"It has been a full day, Your Grace." Davos shifted in his seat, restless. "I have not heard word of what you intend to do for my father in terms of the Bracken's treason."

Daemon rubbed at his temples. "I will fly out on Caraxes tomorrow. No later than noon. I sent a raven to Lord Willem already, he and the Bracken Lord will meet me in a sectioned place of my choosing."

"Are we to be privvy of this meeting? Or must it be held in such secrecy? Davos asked. Daenys agreed with him. Who knows what the combined tempers Willem and Daemon will bring together. Though she would not say that in front of Willem's own son.

"I will act alone." Daemon glanced at her. "As I have since I arrived in Harrenhall."

"What great that has done us." Daenys muttered. "We seem to be at the verge of turning swords against us rather than rallying them together."

"I will not sugarcoat my demands for a child, this is war." He spat back.

"Telling a boy to kill his grandsire for the sake of expediting his own control is certainly no way to gain loyalty." Daenys sipped her wine, not feeling a heavy appetite when no one else was eating besides Simon's sons.

Davos looked at her bewilderedly as if to ask if he really said that. Daenys smiled into her cup shortly, wiping it off her face before she set the cup down.

"What do you intend to do with the Brackens?" She continued.

"You need not concern yourself with my business. It will be delt with accordingly."

Daenys sighed quietly. "At least answer me this. Will you recruit or burn the Brackens?"

The room silented further. Daemon stared between Davos and Daenys.

"I will do what I must to obtain the best men for our Queen's cause." Was his answer. "While I fly out on Caraxes, you should pay a visit to the Tullys. To...ascertain their Lord's condition. Perhaps things have changed."

"Since the day before?" She scoffed.

Daemon gave her a harsh look. "We do not have time to wait for an old and withered fool to die in order to get the Tully bannermen."

"We certainly had time to wait for Viserys to die." Though her words were unnecessarily cruel, especially towards Viserys' own brother, Daenys couldn't find it in her to care. She was never close with her grandsire, but scorned the way his own closest kin abandoned him to the Hightower snakes' clutches.

"Watch your tongue." Daemon leaned forward in his seat.

"I would not let war change me."

"You've not seen war yet, daughter."

Daemon often called her that. Something he did not share with her brothers when he merely referred to them by their names. It frustrated Daenys, knowing he had no right to call her his daughter when he appeared so suddenly in her life. She was nothing like her stepfather. He was the last man who could be her father.

He's the one who got rid of Laenor. Manipulated Rhaenyra into sending the father of her four eldest children away. Daemon, alone, was the reason she mourned her father for years. Rhaenyra would never have done such a thing to her children if her uncle was not so cunning.

"I will not." She said finally. There was no room for argument in her tone. "Tomorrow, I will deliver the Master of War to the Queen's council, then return to Harrenhall and await the news you bring."

"Fine. Sit idly here as the council and I make moves to take back the throne. It is not like you'd be much use at Dragonstone, either." Daemon leaned forward in his seat, closer to the faces across from him before taking his leave to his chambers.

Seething, Daenys chose not to make a scene in front of the other occupants in the room. Instead, she quickly turned to Davos. "I hope to see you returning to your family soon, Ser Davos. I hate to see you stuck here for menial reasons, I think your father and Daemon will work something out with the Brackens on the morrow."

Davos smiled weakly. "It's only been a day and I feel my mind melting with the idleness. I wish to be on the battlefield, marching with my Aunt Alysanne."

She nodded. "I understand. We share that sentiment, at least."

Dinner passed by quickly, with Simon taking hold of the conversation and switching it to a more appropriate topic. Tension did not leave the air all night, however. When Daenys big goodnight to Davos, Simon, and the rest, she allowed Cregan to lead her to her chambers.

A distant feeling nagged at the back of Daenys' mind, as if warning her something would happen soon. It was a miserable impending feeling that she could not answer. "Goodnight, Cregan." She said before he could stop to check on her, knowing that look on his face meant he was worried for her.

She settled into her sheets, knowing that a dream was awaiting her. It was best to get it over with, to see it, and wake up again to be able to prepare for whatever would happen.

Daenys was correct. She had begun to get better at predicting when she would dream. This time, she was landlocked on a rolling grassy hill, watching hundreds of soldiers holding up Green Targaryen banners marching towards an unknown destination. Greenery surrounded her on all sides, through forests and healthy grass. She followed after the leagues of men, who did not see her, and mapped out every possible landmark in her mind. Eventually, the men reached a treeline where they stopped. For cover, most likely.

Men did not hide in forests from other men, but from a dragon's birdeye view.

Daenys spotted a large castle nearby, the destination that the men must have in mind. Behind her, more men rolled up with large crossbows that had to be dragged with multiple horses. The arrows they held were almost as tall as Daenys. Men from the castle were sent out to defend their home, a meager number compared to the ones marching upon them. But, like any loyal knights, they would all die protecting their Lord and his house.

Men did not hide in forests from other men, but from a dragon's birdeye view. Men did not need to kill other men with five-foot-long arrows. She saw Criston Cole, flanked by Ser Gwayne Hightower, and she knew. They were waiting for a dragon.

🗡

Daenys shot out of bed quickly, finding no time to dress herself in the dress laid out for her. It was just after dawn, the sun was already peaking out over Daenys' bed through the windows and cracks in the roof.

She rushed out to the dining hall, where Davos was whispering hushedly to Ser Simon. "Simon, Davos!" Daenys commanded their attention, making them both swing around on the balls of their feet to see their panicked Princess.

In her white shift, completely inappropriate for wandering strange halls, she earned stares with differing looks. Simon, with concern that only a father could hold, and Davos with a hand at his sword's pommel, ready to defend his Princess if need be.

"Princess?" Simon asked.

"In the Riverlands—What castle holds a tower slightly higher than the rest with a sphere on top?" She panted out. "Forests and grassy hills around it, it is slightly smaller than Harrenhall in size but longer."

The two glanced at each other, Davos answering first. "That sounds like Rook's Rest. It is right between us and Dragonstone. May I ask why, my Lady?"

Of course. Rook's Rest, a perfect spot for the Green's to take and cut off Dragonstone from the land.

"I must go. See to it that Cregan Stark stays here while I am gone, Ser Simon."

"But, Princess—!" She didn't stay, running off to Daemon's chambers.

She pushed at the doors, grunting when she was met with resistance. A clanging was heard, she knew he must have barred the doors with something. She continued to push and pull aggressively at the doors, eventually making the protective bar he put up fall to the ground. By the time she yanked them open, Daemon stood in front of the doors with a sword held high to her face.

"Daemon," She started, gritting her teeth. "You must come with me. We will ride to Rook's Rest, where an amush has been laid for Rhaenyra's dragons."

Daemon did not lower his sword, stuck in that same hazy mindspace that she had seen him in before. "Begone, witch. I will hear no more of this."

"Daemon!" She pleaded, stepping closer. "I need you, now. I don't know who is waiting or who Rhaenyra is sending. What if it is Baela, or Jace? Their dragons are too small and young to fight like ours—Come on!"

Daemon scowled at her, as if he were looking right past her. He stepped forward, too, til his Valyrion steel blade was touching her neck. "You are not Rhaenyra." He said, convincing himself that he was merely dreaming.

She swallowed harshly, shaking her head. She had no time to wait for him to find his own mind. Daenys would not be his mother, she couldn't stand idle as a dragon and its rider unknowingly flew to its own death.

She stepped away, nodding. "If I do not return, Daemon, you can tell your wife that you have doomed me."

In her own chambers, she hastily put on the dress that was laid out for her. A pale grey, resembling a misty morning like the one that graced the Riverlands this morning. It would be harder to see today, Daenys knew, she must be vigilant to guide Morningstar.

Morningstar flew with a vigor, right below the cloudbanks, to be able to see everything. It was a fast flight to Rook's Rest, passing over mountains of green trees before the fields opened up to the plains that the castle stood on. Below, men were fighting already. Shouts were heard from below as Morningstar crossed Cole's forces towards Rook's Rest, where she circled briefly.

She ran outside, calling Morningstar to her at the door. Caraxes followed, though only roared frustratedly as he knew he could not fly with them. They sensed her urgency and fear. On top of Morningstar, Daenys could see Cregan start to race outside, barely dressed himself. He shouted after her only when she shouted her command. Daenys glanced back at him apologetically, knowing he would advise against such reckless actions. She would not let herself be stopped, not this time. She waited too long for Jaehaerys and was only a minute too late to save the boy.

She tried to ignore the helpless look on Cregan's face as she turned away.

There.

It was Rhaenys and Meleys, coming from across the sea to defend Lord Staunton's keep. A breath of relief left Daenys, knowing that her mother had sent the most capable fighter she had available. "Grandmother!" She shouted over the men below, grinning at the sight of the Red Queen. Selfishly, she was glad it was not Jacaerys or Baela.

Rhaenys did not share her joy, instead falling into place beside Morningstar with a worried shout of her own. "Go back, Daenys! This is not your battle!"

In her grand dragonscale and steel armor, she looked just like a Queen. Her commanding presence solidified it even more so. "It is a trap, Rhaenys, I cannot leave you to face a dragon alone," Daenys told her stubbornly. She would not leave Rhaenys, there was no argument about it.

Rhaenys stared long and hard at her granddaughter, an image of herself and her niece. Finally, she nodded curtly in acceptance. It was futile to argue with the young Targaryen.

Together, they spun their dragons around to hover right over the plains. Dragonfire spit out from Meleys and Morningstar both, showering over the enemies in a display of glowing orange and blue. Screams of agony were heard as the fire spread from man to man, no steel armor able to save them from flames so hot.

Daenys cringed at the sounds and the smells. She was killing men by the hundreds, perhaps, it was uncountable over the distance and flames. Only weeks ago, she had wondered if she would be able to use fire against her enemies in such a violent way, now she was doing it without question or mercy.

They did not deserve mercy, but Daenys did not wish to kill. She held in gags at the overstimulating sounds and smells around her, staying firm and strong as Rhaenys was. Her grandmother did not flinch nor faulter, a confident Princess with her experienced dragon, a bond that could never be broken.

Repeatingly, the two dragons lifted and found new targets on any men who dared to still be out in the fields, and any who were too slow to retreat into the woods. When Daenys noticed a steady march of the majority of the men creeping out from their cover, she lifted her gaze to the skies. In the distance, a dragon was flying toward them at top speed from the direction of the capitol.

She squinted, meeting Meleys' turnaround from above the water. "It's Sunfyre!" She shouted to Rhaenys, who silently nodded and ordered Meleys to meet The Golden.

"Angōs, Meleys." She commanded her dragon with a fierce determination. The red dragoness roared in response, speeding up to meet the usurper. Morningstar, perfectly meeting her stride, trilled with excitement.

They were mere yards apart when Daenys heard, "Dracarys!" From Aegon. Immediately, Sunfyre spit his own orange dragonfire at the two. Meleys swooped down, taking the fire to her advantage, knowing it blinded Aegon momentarily. Morningstar flew up sharply, turning to follow behind Sunfyre. That fool.

In the midst of his confusion, Aegon turned his head every which way to locate his enemy counterparts, yelping when Sunfrye was grasped from below by Meleys. The Red Queen dug her sharp talons into the younger dragon's chest, digging deep gouges right through the scales. She tossed Sunfyre down, watching him fumble to steady himself.

Daenys found herself at an impasse. Sunfyre was too small to tagteam in a way that would leave Morningstar's ally unharmed. If either shot fire, they would risk hurting each other and not Aegon. Sunfyre managed to right himself, flying just over the grass and spraying buckets of boiling hot blood on Aegon's own men.

Sunfyre whined in pain the entire ascent back into the air. Daenys felt sympathy for the poor thing. It was only doing as he was bid by his rider. Meleys didn't let him get far, biting at Sunfyre's wing in the air and dragging him across. Morningstar finally took the opportunity to join, Daenys noting that bites and scratches were much easier to aim than fire. Her dragon latched onto the other wing's thin membrane, leaving Sunfyre unable to fly himself and instead hang lamely between the two beasts.

Sunfyre managed to angle his neck wildly, hanging on to Meleys' horn with his jaw. He tore it clean off of the dragoness, throwing it down to the ground. A deep grumble caught Daenys' attention as Morningstar let go of the bloodied and ripped wing. "It's Vhagar!" She shouted to Rhaenys, who turned to see the great behemoth approaching with Aemond.

"Thank the Gods!" Aegon shouted in relief, even as Meleys held Sunfrye's neck in a fearsome grip.

Morningstar sharply flew up to get out of the line of fire, howling out for Meleys to follow her.

A shout was heard from Aemond, though Daenys could not decipher it over the sounds of growls and wings flapping. Fire shot from Vhagar indiscriminately, shooting right at Aegon.

Was Rhaenys even the target for that? Daenys thought to herself, horrified at the sight below her. Sunfyre's ripped wings both caught fire, the blood exposing the insides enough to be lacking shield as they usually would. Rhaenys swiftly met Morningstar in the higher skies, watching with Daenys as the rider and dragon fell to the trees.

Vhagar continued on, Aemond not attempting to check on his older brother.

Meleys and Morningstar flew side by side, both riders turned to assess the situation. Panting, they worked to catch their breath. Daenys pet Morningstar's neck, checking her for injuries. Luckily, she went unharmed from her brief fight with the smaller dragon. Meleys had sustained few injuries, too, bar from the missing horn.

"Grandmother, we can keep going to Dragonstone. Or Harrenhall, even! Vhagar is thrice our size, we should get Caraxes and Daemon."

Her words seemed to go through one ear and out the other to her grandmother. Rhaenys sat straight and proud, ever a picture of grace even in battle. "I will not be leaving this battle, Daenys." She told her solemnly. "But you will. Continue on, without me." She commanded.

Daenys shook her head vehemently, shocked at the implication. "I will not leave you, grandmother. I cannot."

Rhaenys met her eyeline with a pleading look, though only got a determined one in return. "I will follow you into battle." Her granddaughter continued, blinking away watery eyes.

The Queen Who Never Was nodded, only once. "Angōs, Meleys." She murmured to her dragon, who made a similar hollow sound.

"Naejot, Ñāqatubis qēlos!" Daenys shouted, earning a more invigorated sound from Morningstar. Her blood ran hot, nearly burning through the saddle and Daenys' legs if they had touched the scales. She didn't want to back down, and neither did Meleys.

Rhaenys buckled herself into her saddle. Daenys narrowed her eyes at her grandmother but did not speak out against her. She simply followed her actions. She was the more experienced rider, after all.

Ahead of them, Vhagar had her back turned to them. Aemond has thought they fled when Sunfyre went down, they both had the speed to outfly Vhagar easily. He turned in his saddle, cursing. Roaring, Meleys sped up and angled herself to fly upside down, Morningstar quick to mimic her movements more clumsily. Both dragons matched their actions, moving to latch both of their feet to one of Vhagar's. All three dragons jerked at the stop, spinning in circles as if merely dancing in the air.

Though, the fire and roars told the onlookers otherwise. Daenys felt dizzy at being upsidedown and spinning, but held herself steady. "Do not fire, Morningstar! Bite!" She yelled her command, fearful of burning her grandmother. From this angle, it would be hard for flames to reach Aemond anyway. Flames only served to blind the other dragon. Morningstar grumbled but obeyed, forcing fire back down her throat. She bit at any green limbs or scales flying her way, finally managing to latch onto Vhagar's thick tail and biting down hard.

Beside her, Meleys clawed at Vhagar's chest successfully, searing blood running down all of the Dragon's scales as they spun. Vhagar roared in pain and anger, releasing a wave of hot flames into the air.

With Morningstar's grip on the tail's end, she lost control of her talon's grip and loosened it enough to lose it entirely. The now free claw kicked at Morningstar, sending her away and to find her grounding in the air again. Though, it did not come as a success to Vhagar. Lying limp in Morningstar's massive maw was nearly eight feet of her tail. Bit off entirely.

Though it would not kill Vhagar, she dragoness would never fly completely straight or as fluid as she once did. Tails were vital for balance. Morningstar trilled in victory as Meleys threw Vhagar to the ground, both flying up again as the larger was forced to get a running start in order to fly again.

Daenys panted slightly, seeing Rhaenys fly in sync next to her.

"Are you and Morningstar okay?" She asked, rising above the smoke and also out of breath.

She nodded, looking around her briefly. "I think so. Are you two?" Meleys had lost quite a bit of blood from her chest scratch, though did not look any less strong as she flew.

Meleys turned to Rhaenys, whining softly as she glanced at her rider. Rhaenys smiled solemnly, comforting her dragon. It did not go unnoticed by Daenys that she had chosen to stay silent rather than answer.

"Grandmother." Daenys said. "This is a victory. We have injured Vhagar greatly, and Sunfyre and Aegon might be dead as we speak."

Both turned to fly towards the open water, and Daenys breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She would take her grandmother home safely, where she could continue to advise her mother in Daenys' temporary absence.

They flew over Rook Rest's tallest tower, relieved to see that Vhagar had fled.

Meleys, ahead of Morningstar, was suddenly thrown up into the air. Morningstar roared and halted her flight with angled wings as the other two ascended high into the air. Meleys was trapped by the neck in Vhagar's maw now, unable to do anything but cry out in agony. As Morningstar flew up to try and meet them, hot blood poured down onto the dragon and rider. It burned, though Daenys forced herself to wipe it away and cover her eyes with a hand. Morningstar faultered slightly, blindly flying and shaking blood from her face.

High above Rook's Rest, Vhagar let go of Meleys, dropping her down to the shore. Go after Rhaenys or finish off Aemond from behind? Daenys had no time to think, she simply moved on instinct. "Grab her!" She shouted towards Morningstar, who swopped down and grabbed Meleys' heavy body by the sides. The dragon screeched in pain again, though still could not manage the strength to fly again. Morningstar grunted with the effort, barely able to carry Meleys in her claws. She would not be able to save Meleys. She was bigger than Morningstar and too heavy to be carried anywhere but the hover she held her in.

Rhaenys stared up at her granddaughter with apology already written across her face. She was content to die with her dragon, but heartbroken to leave her grandchildren and husband in the living world.

Daenys unbuckled herself swiftly, reaching down and maneuvering her body to hang off the saddle with all but a leg and arm holding her up. "Climb up, hurry!" She begged her grandmother, who was only attached to Meleys through her own buckle. Her hands were at her sides, already accepting her honorable dragonrider's death.

Daenys could not accept such a thing.

Daenys sobbed at the look, shaking her head. Tears fell towards Rhaenys, landing on or past her ashen face. "Grandmother, please—!" Vhagar had returned.

Morningstar was thrown by Vhagar's talons, losing her grin on The Red Queen. Daenys couldn't even watch her fall, spinning around in the air as Morningstar fought to find air. Above, Vhagar roared as Daenys screamed.

"Go!" She pleaded as Morningstar finally straightened out, immediately fleeing towards Harrenhall.

Vhagar did not follow this time, instead clumsily landing near Sunfyre's fallen spot. Daenys panted heavily, looking below and behind her desperately to spot Meleys. The dragon had fallen to the shores below, where the land met sea. So close to Dragonstone. They were so close to Dragonstone.

Daenys numbly looked forward, releasing her death grip on the saddle's handles. Red poured out from Morningstar's scaled side, revealing the damage Vhagar's throw had done to her. "I'm sorry, Morningstar." She whispered, leaning lamely over the saddle and staying like that for her entire flight.

🗡

Upon landing, Morningstar had been silent. Perhaps mourning Meleys just as much as Daenys was mourning Rhaenys. They had lived close together, flying often to Driftmark and Dragonstone as all the other dragons who got along did.

Daenys saw Caraxes waiting by the entrance, where she had left him. Weakly, she couldn't even greet the Blood Wrym as he called out for the dragon and rider. Cregan, too, waited for her. Dressed now, it seemed like he waited outside the entire time since she had left, with no way to follow her.

The thought vaguely registered in her mind as Morningstar huffed and leaned down. Through bleary eyes, she saw Cregan climb her wing and reach out to hold Daenys' face in his hand. He wiped a spot of blood from her brow, frowning.

Her sleeves had burnt off entirely, leaving small bits of fabric to conseal her modesty. The last thing she cared for at the moment, if she were honest. Dragon blood smeared across her as if it were her own: covering her face, hair, neck, arms, and dress. She did not have time to go to Dragonstone and don her scaled armor.

"What has happened?" He asked softly, working with the cuff of his sleeve to gently wipe away at her face. It was in vain, though, only working to smear it further when it had already dried. Daenys slumped her head into Cregan's neck, shaking her head defeatedly. He clutched her in his arms immediately, lifting her from her saddle and carefully bringing her down the wing and to the grass. He glanced at the wounded dragon behind him, who seemed to nod encouragingly at him as she continued laying down.

With only Ser Simon at the entrance, Cregan passed by the older man with a shared concerned glance. Davos had left after Daenys did that morning, to meet with Willem Blackwood and the Brackens before Caraxes and Daemon set off. Horseback was much slower, after all.

His return depended on his father's command, but if he did, it wouldn't be until later that night.

"Have someone bring food and a bowl of clean water to the Princess' chambers." Cregan told Simon, who nodded and went off to find a servant.

Daenys hung in his arms as if she were dead, despite being uninjured. She did not want to live, not with the sins that weighed so heavily on her soul. Three deaths, she was indirectly responsible for.

Two people Aemond had directly taken from her. Kinslayer, twice over. Mayhaps three, if Aegon did not survive his injuries.

Two deaths that Daemon did not intend for, but would be held responsible for by Daenys.

Luke, Jaehaerys, Rhaenys. The three names twirled around her mind like the ghosts themselves coming back to haunt her. She had finally learned to trust herself—trust her mind. And all she had gotten was a front seat view of the death instead of the ability to change it.

No, perhaps she could change it still. She just wasn't trying hard enough. She didn't push Rhaenys hard enough to retreat, nor fought Vhagar hard enough when she had the chance. Rhaenys died for her mistakes.

Morningstar almost did, too. Perhaps Aemond only gave her mercy to torment her with her guilt. He knew she couldn't kill him. Not like she could all those soldiers in front of the castle.

Ik I said Thursday for update day, but I got stopped a lot for various things. I hope this chapter didn't disappoint, wanted some cute and some action.

She was not a kinslayer, not directly. Even so, she had witnessed the deaths of four of her kin. Four would not be the last, not in this dance of dragons. It would not stop until all the dragons and their riders were dead.

🗡

Ñāqatubis qēlos - Morning Star

or Tubis qēlos, I was getting two different answers

Half of this chapter is me trying to make a cute day out. Beach episode! 😋 and procrastinating the process for the last half, which was a nightmare to write. Born to write whimical dreams and drama, forced to write dragons fighting to the death or whatever.

Will Cregan be mad that Daenys didn't come to him first? Left him, waiting for news of her death on dragonback?

Did anyone get the little Phantom of the Opera quote?

Every time I see Vhagar compared to other dragons, the reality of her ACTUALLY being the biggest is still so jarring. She isn't just a bit bigger by technicalities, but a behemoth compared to them. She makes Meleys, the third biggest in the world, look like a baby dragon compared to her. When she crushed those men to basically nothing with her hind foot, damn. Makes me wonder how big Balerion was and why every dragon after the Doom grew smaller and smaller. Probably due to some magic only available in Old Valyria, I would adore a show purely about the dragon country. I love dragons sm, I wish we had more live actions media for them 😪

Daenys talks about her perfect life with Cregan and all of their loved ones. I wonder how Winterfell functions as a society, being less formal than the south but still holding its own type of regality. I think the Starks in GOT were quite like the image she pictured, pre-show. Tight-knit though the siblings squabbled like true siblings do, but always having family dinner and telling each other about their days. They never got to get a normal ending, but I think if they had and the sons and daughters eventually married off, everyone would still visit Winterfell often to have get togethers and see each other. Take Ned Stark's parenting and compare it to Tywin, Robert, Stannis, etc. Very indifferent and detached, only seeing their kids as succesors and political pieces rather than kids to love and cherish.

Did Rhae Rhae name Daenys after her dreamer ancestor or after her father disguised with her ancestor's name, no one will know except for her (every time I type Daemon it trys to correct to Daenys PLS).

Daenys not wanting to seem thirsty for cregan, meanwhile he's getting the opposite idea and thinking she looked away because she was totally indifferent and he's like 🙁 i lost my touch (the winterfell ladies are DEFINITELY all over their Lord Stark) and maybe thinking she doesn't care for his looks, being a different standard of beauty from southern men.

Can you tell I love the gentlemanly hand kiss thing? It's a lost art, not even considered romantic most of the time and simply being a polite greeting or farewell gesture, but its so intimate in its own way compared to a hug or handshake.

ALSO thinking about Silverwing/Vermithor size difference. Silverwing is pretty small, like Syrax size. Vermithor is HUGE and is completely a different size category than the dragons below him including his lovely dragon wife. Syrax and Caraxes are similar sizes. It reminds me of that meme with the tiny male rabbit looking up at his humongous fem rabbit wife and its kinda reversed for Silver and Vermithor, and also mirroring Daenys and Cregan slightly with their size difference and color schemes.

One thing I've unintentionally done is make Daenys insecure about her being deemed mad and unsociable by others, but one thing she's never been insecure about is her looks. In fact, she doesn't deny when Cregan or a bard calls her beautiful or something of the like. I think that part of her character kind of ran away from me and did itself. Shes surprised when someone finds her tolerable to be around and seeks her conpany, but only happy when someone compliments looks. There's a lot of insecure MCs who worry about their looks (no shade to that, it makes characters more relatable) but I think Daenys hasn't been insecure of her appearances, only her actions.

I google a million stupid questions per chapter. This chapter's: can pearls be found in lakes? Of course they can, Cherry, muscles and clams still live in lakes.

[n-i-m-u-e]

Lucemond bodyswap!AU

This plot was quite popular when I was a teenager (before the dinosaurs), but I've hardly ever seen it in this fandom. And a few days ago I literally had this dream (yes, I resumed taking antidepressants this month and usually when you start taking them, you have very vivid, detailed and interesting dreams at first) I couldn't let go of the idea.

Let's imagine that Rhaenyra and her family stay in KL until Viserys' death to prevent the usurper from taking her throne, and then just stay there because she's now queen. And so, with the help of some bizarre Valyrian magic really don't care the causes, only the effects, Luke and Aemond swap bodies and, according to the classic of the genre, cannot tell anyone about it (although Helaena knows anyway). And of coooourse, they have to work together to get everything back to the way it was.

-----------------------∞----------------------

for me, this is such an inexhaustible endless source of dramedy:

Aemond’s first thought when he looks in the mirror and sees his nephew's reflection is 'What can I do with this horribly messy hair?'

Luke wakes up in Aemond’s chambers and struggles with his new size, bumping into and tripping over everything until he finally reaches the room he’d fallen asleep in the night before, already covered in bruises. There, he sees himself—or is it his body?—turning the room upside down, searching for something. Luke timidly asks what Aemond is looking for, and with a look of wild madness in his eye, Aemond barks: “A comb!”

Luke, on the other hand, doesn't care about Aemond’s hair at all. It annoyed him how long it is, although he's mesmerized by its softness and color. Especially the color, since he’s imagined countless times what it would be like if he’d been born with Targaryen hair. But he can’t deal with the long strands and just ties them into a messy… something. Aemond nearly has a stroke when he sees this vandalism for the first time.

They agree to call a truce until they find out how it happened, but they constantly fight for various reasons. Mostly because Aemond is the one who panics dramatising overreacts about the situation. Luke, as an empathetic child without emotional constipation, even tries to calm him down. But, as expected, only encounters rudeness in return. The uncle says that he has never felt so defective before, even after he had lost an eye. He also says that he is very worried that Luke-in-his-body will now disgrace Aemond with ‘such idiotic expressions’ after Luke-in-his-body cannot hide the obvious resentment on his face.

Their attempts to behave like the other are rather clumsy. Mainly because Lucerys has never really hidden his emotions, while Aemond has never really shown his.

Aemond is shocked to find that in his sister’s family, displays of physical affection without any serious reason are perfectly normal. On the first dinner of being Luke, Aemond reflexively twists Jace’s arm when he tries to ruffle his hair unexpectedly. Later, when Rhaenyra, noticing something is off with "her sweet boy", pulls him close in a gentle hug to figure out what’s wrong, Aemond is beyond errored. And let’s not even talk about how the poor guy feels when Daemon slaps him on the back and asks for his opinion on something. Yes, used to being fairly distant from his own family, Aemond is really stunned by the intensity of the interconnectedness in his older sister's household.

After all this, he goes to complain to Luke, who is also in shock and distressed about 'Aemond's day', but it's more of a ‘Damn Bitch, You Live Like This?’. He hasn't seen any of his uncle's family all day and no one has even looked for him, except for Sir Christon (and it's a pretty enough nightmare). He tells Aemond that maybe understands why he's such a prick - because he hasn't ever been hugged enough.

Aemond, who can't come up with a plausible reason for not training with Jace, decides that he will quickly defeat his older nephew. But he is annoyed to realise that Luke's body is not as strong and trained as he is used to, and he cannot hold a sword of the weight that Aemond is used to. The fact that Jace is only gently encouraging his “brother” irritates him even more.

In the early morning, Aemond forces his nephew to train with him to learn how to use his new body—instead, Aemond cringes as watches Luke struggle to cope with his own. But after a little while, using each other's advice, they have a good sparring. Aemond is very excited about the possibility that having both eyes and the agility of a small body opens up—is triumphant at his victory. Luke look like he doesn't cares (he really doesn't, because he'd rather be in bed at this hour).

But the real hit for Aemond comes when Damon meets him later that morning and tells him that he saw the fight between him and Luke and is really proud of him because he has ‘unexpectedly good technique’. Aemond's fangirl-daddy-issues-emotions run high, and even the warning that ‘needs to be careful with this one-eyed Hightower cunt, because his extreme niceness is too alarming’ doesn't diminish them. By the end of the day, Aemond is mentally running around with the fact that ‘the Rogue Prince praised my fighting skills.’

Luke laughs for a very long time when hears about this conversation. Because ‘Daemon saw me beat you, and according to him, I fight only slightly better than Joff. Joff is six, uncle. Daemon thought "you" went easy on "me".’

They try to find some information on how to get back into their own bodies in Valyrian manuscripts, but Luke discovers just how terrible his uncle’s pronunciation is when he tries reading something aloud. The search is soon forgotten, as their impromptu speaking lesson stretches late into the evening.

The amount of time they’ve been spending together lately doesn’t go unnoticed and starts raising questions. So, the boys decide to split up for a while and conduct their searches separately.

Luke, who is unbearably bored being Aemond and lacking his discipline, decides to find some entertainment. He’d normally call Jace to fly or invite Rhaena for a walk, but obviously, that’s not an option now. So, he heads to see Helaena, who is delighted to have him visit. Luke confirms that his "quirky aunt" is really sweet, but freezes when she declares she’s 'so glad Aemond can see the underside’.

Later, Luke encounters Aegon too, who makes a comment about Aemond-Luke’s hairstyle. And boy, out of habit, reacts in much the same way as he would if something similar happened between him and Jace—he responds with some kind of small joke. Aegon stares at him as if he’s grown a second head—or at least regrown his second eye. Slowly, Lucerys realizes that his stoic, cold uncle is really just wearing a mask. After all, truly coldblooded people don’t flare up at every little remark.

Aemond, who’s genuinely trying to solve the problem, finds a reference to a book that might be in Dragonstone’s library. Without thinking twice, he decides to fly there. Based on who he looks like now, he thinks no one will find it odd if Lucerys Velaryon spends a few hours in the library at his own home. He heads to the dragonpit to ride Lucerys Velaryon dragon.

But dragons are not humans. Arrax is not at all pleased when some suspicious guy—no matter how much he looks like his rider (this no less suspicious point also needs to be clarified)—tries to approach him and decides to take a few bites out of the pretender. Aemond is rescued by Luke, who is on his way to visit his dragon. Unlike his uncle, he did not assume that Arrax could be fooled by appearances.

Luke angrily tells his uncle that he 'tried to steal someone else's dragon again and almost got hurt.' For the first time since they switched bodies, they get into a real fight, almost ending in blows. But when Aemond sweeps Luke off his feet with a well-placed strike from his “blind side” and and falls on top of him, they have some feelings that are… let's say not typical of a fight, which makes Aemond embarrassed and run away. What can you do—they still teenagers🤷‍♀️

And speaking of teenagers. If you wake up with morning wood while in someone else’s body, is jerking off in such a situation still considered masturbation or already sex? Just asking.

Aemond, isolated from his usual routine and still holding a grudge against Luke, decides to “gather some information on the enemy camp,” as he calls it. In reality, he's simply finding out how Luke is treated by his family. And this simultaneously makes him envious and angry on behalf of his nephew. Because he doesn't like the condescending attitude that thrives on Luke. Now it becomes clearer to him why he once thought the boy was weak and foolish, though in recent days, he’s realised that’s not the case at all. But this condescension causes Lucerys’ impostor syndrome to progress. It doesn't allow him to become stronger.

Also, unexpectedly for himself, Aemond finds that he actually likes his cousins, and even little Joffrey is “a decent kid.” Jacerys stops provoking a dull irritation as long as he’s either silent or far enough away that his words can’t be heard.

For a few days, Aemond and Luke avoid each other. But eventually, Luke comes to make peace and finally apologizes to his uncle, not just for the recent incident, but for everything.

They decide to fly to Dragonstone together because Luke knows how to sneak into the castle. After all, he has slipped out countless times with Jace, Rhaena, and on his own.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[ilycosy]

❝ FIGHT FOR ME ❞ | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing : luke castellan x child of athena!reader

summary — while being a child of athena, you've never been one for athletics or academics. you never succeeded in capture the flag, or gotten anything above a c+. it seemed that the only thing you were good at was being supportive, which luke never seemed to mind.

warnings : toxic!luke , enabler!reader , reader is bullied and insecure abt it , luke is a bad guy and reader thinks he's hot for it .

aﾉn — back w another work B) hope u guys enjoy !! i personally love when my men r a little crazy + protective over me <3 this is based on this , requests r open :) so feel free to req stuff !!!

being a demigod was hard as it was, constantly fighting monsters left and right never knowing when it'd end. most of the time, it ending in a painful and anticlimactic death, the pressure was constant and only grew.

now, being a child of athena, it really should've came naturally to you. maybe not reading, but still, being wise and strong was what should've came with the deal. at last— it didn't, and that really wasn't something that you could get over at a camp that relies so heavily on glory.

'glory', better known as kleos here, was something that every demigod craved even you. which is why you tried so hard to learn, sword fighting with anybody who would bother, attempting to plan for things with your half-siblings. but it never worked.

at first you were angry, angry at the world, angry at your mother. how could she claim such a screw up? you'd ask, and others would agree with you. taunting and sticking up their noses as if they were better, in a way, they were. not completely— but in the ways that mattered, they were.

then, you became bitter. you had met your shining star during this stage, at the age fourteen you were introduced to a boy your age, luke castellan. he came to the camp with a young girl, talking of stories about life outside the camp and the monsters he killed. holding onto the memory of a forbidden child he fought by, you were envious.

until he took a interest in you, constantly talking to you trying to make you laugh or smile. at one point he fell into a lake while trying to get your attention, it was endearing— and stupid. you never understood why he cared so much, or why he wanted to be friends so bad.

at sixteen, you accepted the offer. not having many friends due to everybody seeing you as useless— just another child that must've gotten accidentally claimed. you allowed him into your life, slowly but surely breaking down your walls until by seventeen there's nothing left to talk about.

the bitterness lingers, though he could never relate— until the quest. that awful quest that you cried to him about going on, wanting him to stay, half in fear of him dying but also the fear of the ridicule you'd face without him there. the lack of his reputation to protect you.

you had gotten harassed while he was gone, the constant remarks about how you were the pretty face of the cabin was back-handed at best to you. but you always sneaked off to his bed in hermes' cabin, crying into his pillow when you were sure nobody else was awake.

but when he returned, everything was different. it was like he finally understood you on a deeper level than before— your frustrations with your mother, not living up to the expectations of her, he understood. he understood and more, he was angry for you, for himself and every other camper.

he talked very little of the quest, the only genuine emotions he allowed himself to feel around you being happiness and anger. brief words of anger for his father and your mother, then hushed whispers of adoration for you in the nape of your neck.

you never fully knew when luke became your boyfriend, but it was never a secret. his head buried in your shoulder during breakfast, the hand on your back when he was hiking with you and other campers, even the soft kisses he gave your wrists publicly.

so he never understood why people had grown so confident— arrogant enough to ridicule you while he stands so close by. their loud laughs mixing in with the barely concealed hisses of their disapproval for you, talking about how you're the shame of athena cabin. how you've never used your brain, or a weapon in your whole life.

nobody knew when luke had snapped, all everybody could say was that it was bloody. the beloved camp counselor defending his loves honor— by pounding in another boys face, leaving him bruised and bleeding on the hard dirt.

all he remembers was being dragged away by chris, the ringing in his ears being too loud to hear anything other than "you got him luke calm down!" and "mr. castellan, meet me after you're done with the medic." before he was hauled off to the apollo children.

he remembers waiting, a long time. being patched up by an apollo girl, her harsh words of how stupid he was and how girls don't like violent men barely processed in his brain. he was on autopilot without you— he barely ate or drank until you were allowed in the medic office.

you had waited for what felt like years before you were allowed in, you couldn't help but bask in the spotlight for a moment after the fight, just thriving from the fear he had caused for you. you rushed to him as soon as you could, running your fingertips gently over his scar and down his jaw.

his jaw unclenched when he realized it was you, leaning into your touch he presses soft kisses from your palms to your wrists. he swears on the gods that he'd kill for you if it meant you touched him as if he was this delicate for all eternity.

"luke," you say, as if your lungs can't take in enough air. "are you okay?"

he almost laughs at how dumb the question is, is he okay? he feels awesome right now, a sense of pride resonating deep within him from the adrenaline and the attention you feed him as you sit on the medic cott.

"im fine, baby." he rasps out, running his hands up the tops of your thighs until he can pull you by your hips. your body flushed against his. "are you alright?" he whispers against your neck, the bandages on his face tickling you.

you barely know how to respond, you're not okay but at the same time you've never felt better. "im hurt," you mumble, being honest with your feelings even though you know his are bottled. "but im glad."

he feels another spike of anger, your perfect self should never have to be touched by the ugliness of others words. but he tilts his head to the side, almost as if to realize and ask why you're glad.

"you defended me," you whisper, quietly as if you're ashamed of how you feel. you bite the inside of your lip in shame before pressing a soft kiss to his head. "you fought for me, and im thankful."

his hands lightly trail from your hips and up your sides, gently leaving adoring touches in his wake before cupping your face. he leans his forehead against yours, looking at your lips before focusing on your eyes.

"id kill the gods for you," he whispers, his eyes darkening as your eyes light up. "just say the word, baby."

[gh0stsp1d3r]

I HAVE A REQUEST THAT HAS BEEN HAUNTING MY DREAMS (in a good way.)

Luke Castellan sleeping with (and lowkey manipulating) Chris’s gf so she’ll join them on the princess andromeda. (Chris would def not be able to convince anyone to do anything without Luke’s help tbh)

omg I LUV THISSS ?? all characters r 18 + 💗 💗

𝒫𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒸ℯ𝓈𝓈 𝒜𝓃𝒹𝓇ℴ𝓂ℯ𝒹𝒶

Warnings: mentions of hooking up, manipulation, dark!luke

A million thoughts ran in your head as you laid down next to him, you shook your head to yourself. This was bad.

You slept with your boyfriends half brother, who was also a traitor to the camp you were currently in. It wasn’t looking good for you at all.

You pulled the covers over your body, not even wanting to look at Luke. You’ve known him for a while now, and you’d admit it, you had a crush on him when you were younger.

But now you were with Chris.

“Luke-“ you began, turning to look at him. He was already looking at you when you turned.

“I want you to know something about Chris.” He told you, interrupting you before you could talk.

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“He’s a spy. For me. I mean, why do you think he’s been avoiding you for a little now?”

Your jaw dropped, you didn’t know how to reply. That made so much more sense.

His face contorted into a sick smile, his head leaning against the pillows. “I want you to join us.”

“No, Luke.” You immediately stood up, shaking your head as you looked around from your clothes. “I told you once, and I’ll tell you again, I can’t.”

He stood up as well, putting on his boxers before standing in front of the door that you were about to reach for.

“Move, Luke.”

“Come with us.” He repeated, his hand going to your jaw, lightly tracing over your skin. His touch was soft, gentle, as if you were glass he would break.

You shook your head, heart racing as you stared up at the boy. “No.”

He still had a smile on his face, his thumb moved towards the center of your face, his skin pulling down your bottom lip. You trembled in fear at the man in front of you.

“You can be free. Away from the restraints of the gods and the camp. You can be with us.”

“I don’t want to be, Luke.” You said his name shakily.

“Think about it,” he spoke, pulling his hand away for your face, squinting his eyes as he walked closer towards you. “No siblings, no kids, you’ll be on the winning side of the war. It’ll just be me, and you.”

“Does Chris know about this?”

“He’s the one who suggested we recruit you. He didn’t say how.” He shrugged.

You let out a shaky exhale.

“C’mon… you know you want to.”

He had you backed up into the wall now, your legs feeling like they were gonna give out.

“Who are the ones who always mistreated you? Huh?” He questioned. “Who are the ones who never helped you or anyone else? Who are the ones that,” he laughed, “when you were in the infirmary, on your death bed, didn’t help? Who, y/n?”

“The gods.” You said, your voice a whisper as you came to the realization, you looked down at your shoes.

“Exactly. Now you’re getting it. Y/n, do you really want to be on their side? No. Kronos- he’ll give you anything you could possibly fuckin’ want.”

You swallowed the lump you had in your throat, he grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.

“So, what’s it gonna be, y/n?” He was playing with your feelings. He knew you liked him, and he used that to his advantage. Of course you didn’t need to know that.

“I’ll join you.” You told him quietly, he smiled again, leaning in to kiss you.

[writingonleaves]

got lovestruck, went straight to my head (got lovesick all over my bed) - nico hischier

universe: nico hischier x clementine sandoval (the blue au)

warnings: swearing, mentions of stuff you'd typically see in the hospital (death, etc), author has never been to switzerland (but wants to!!), fluff! angst if you squint

title: "slut!" by taylor swift

word count: 23k (originally 27k but had to be cut down bc tumblr apparently has a limit of blocks per post??? lol)

author's note: long anticipated (official) part two to this little ditty. takes place pretty much right where the first part left off and goes until january 2025. i love clem. i love clem and nico. i love this whole world, and it loves all of you right back. thanks for all the love, truly. it means so much. here are some more slice of life moments that will probably rot your teeth because they're so sweet! enjoy and please let me know your thoughts!!

~*~*~

Devils fans love Nico Hischier, Clementine realizes, as she waits in a cafe across the back entrance of The Rock, looking outside as Nico takes the time to sign things and take pictures with the fans.

To some extent, after being in Jersey for a full season now, she knows how adored he is — the multitude of 13 jerseys during every game and how she has never heard a single bad thing said about him, whether that be as a person, captain or player. But right now, she’s smiling as he thanks the fans for their support when she knows he was devastated less than 48 hours prior. 

This team, their fans and this community love their captain. They’d go to the ends of the world for him, she’s convinced. 

She feels her phone buzz in her pocket. She pulls it out with a smile. 

Nico Hischier 

Meet me at my car in 5 mins? ❤️

She smiles, just liking the text before slinging her bag over her shoulders, grabbing her half finished coffee and going back to the counter to order a cappuccino for Nico. She thanks the barista when he’s done, grabs the cappuccino and goes back down to the parking garage. 

Nico’s leaning against his car on his phone, but puts it away when he sees her walking to him. She shuffles over quickly and gives him a quick kiss. She doesn’t think she’ll get used to that. 

“Hi.” 

“Hey.” The fondness tinged at the short greeting isn’t new, Clementine knows now, but it makes her smile all the same. “Thanks for the coffee. Sorry I took so long,” he says, taking his coffee and opening the passenger door. 

“You’re good,” she slides in and waits for him to get to the driver’s seat. “You doing alright?”

He starts the engine and looks over at her with a soft smile. “Yeah.”

“You sure?”

He reaches over to give her thigh a comforting squeeze after backing out. ‘I’m sure. I promise. Play some music.”

“Do you even like my music?”

“I listen to anything. You know that.”

She chuckles, plugging in her phone. “They love you.”

“Hm?”

“The fans. I was watching outside the windows of the cafe.”

He shrugs. “They’re always great. Have been good to me since I came into the league and have stuck by us.”

She looks at him thoughtfully. “They also have nothing but respect for their captain, who led them through the season extraordinarily well despite all the downs.” She leans her head on his arm for a few seconds. “I know it’s hard, but try not to blame yourself too much. You can’t and shouldn’t carry all that weight. The boys know that. The fans know that.”

He nods and looks over at her with a smile. “Gotten good at that throughout the years, hey? Comforting people after big losses.”

“Tell me about it.” She thinks back to when Quinn and Jack lost the gold medal match in 2019 at World Juniors and both times Luke’s dream of winning a national championship with Michigan fell short. And those are just the ones she can think of off the top of her head. “I’m serious though. It’ll come for you guys. I know it will.”

“Thanks, Schätzli.” Oh. That’s also a new development. The first time it slipped out, Nico had almost taken it back with wide, panicked eyes. But Clementine had promptly pulled him down to kiss her. 

The team all chipped in to rent out a rooftop bar in Tribeca tonight to celebrate their season, the multitude of birthdays that occurred during the last part of the season that they couldn’t really celebrate at the time, and to just hang out before people start dispersing for the off-season. Therefore, Clementine purposefully volunteered for the overnight shift the day before and took a four hour nap before she tagged along to locker cleanout. She hid out in the cafe while they all had to do their end-of-season duties.

But they have a few hours to kill before heading into Manhattan, so the new couple spend the afternoon at Liberty State Park, enjoying the rare instance since the night of their first kiss where they’ve both been free. Clementine’s packed a small cooler with some tiny sandwiches, fruit and small bottles of wine. Nico lays out a blanket and Clementine toes off her sandals. It’s beautiful outside, and after she’s done munching on the food, she finds herself laying her head in Nico’s lap as he plays with her hair, talking about everything and nothing. Occasionally he just leans down to place a kiss on her forehead or cheek and she feels her throat closing up everytime at the sweetness of the gesture. 

They have limited time before Nico heads back home to Switzerland. She’ll take all the moments she can get.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Uh oh,” she jokes. “Should I be nervous?”

“No, no, no. It’s just..maybe a bit of a weird question.”

“Nico. I deal with kids on a daily basis. And other residents who have no sense of boundaries. And Jack and Luke where all social cues are nonexistent. Almost nothing fazes me at this point.”

“Well, of course I’ve seen you around Jack and Luke so I know what your relationship is like with them. But how are you with Quinn?”

“Huh. Why do you ask?”

Nico twirls a piece of her hair around his finger. “They’ve mentioned a couple of times how I remind them of Quinn sometimes, which you know, I think is a compliment. I respect Quinn a lot as a player and he did a great job captaining that team this year. But, I don’t know. I’m just curious.” 

Clementine smiles easily. “Luke’s my baby and Jack’s like the most annoying little brother you could ask for, but yeah. Quinn is..he’s also like a little brother, but he’s also my best friend. I think Quinn and I are the most similar in terms of how we think. So I guess that leads to a sense of…understanding? Like, on a different level than with Luke and Jack. And if you think I’m protective of Jack and Luke, I’m probably even worse with Quinn. He’s just always so busy looking after the other two that he sometimes forgets he needs to look out for himself too.”

“Then who looks after you?”

“Hm?”

“If you’re busy looking after those three, who looks after you?”

She sits up as he lets her hair fall from his fingers. She plops a strawberry in his mouth. “I don’t need anyone to look after me.”

“Those three don’t need anyone to look after them.” He points out. 

“Lies. You think Luke and Jack are annoying now? They were ten times worse before. And you think Luca and Nina don’t still feel a responsibility to look after their little brother? I haven’t even met them and I think I know the answer.” She shrugs, hooking her chin on his shoulder. “I don’t mind, really. They also, in a way, look after me as well, especially as we’ve gotten older. But I don’t think I answered your question. I guess you’ll have to see Quinny and I together and see for yourself.”

He hums, kissing her forehead twice. “You gotta take some time to look after yourself too. You’re no use to them if you don’t.”

“I know. I think I’ve managed the balance well. And you’re partially right. I don’t need to look after them as much anymore, especially since now Quinny has a girlfriend who I still haven’t met and you look after Jack and Luke plenty.”

Nico snorts. “I’m sure you’ll get to meet Quinn’s girlfriend this summer.”

“If the fucker answered my calls, that would be a start,” she says. “Are you all packed to go yet?”

“Not at all.”

He literally leaves in two days. “God, you all really are the same breed. I bet I could pack all your shit in an hour. Maybe even less.”

He smirks. “Is that a challenge?”

“No. Pack your own stuff. You’re a grown man.”

He laughs, and they switch positions. Now his head is in her lap and she’s running her hand through his hair. She’s still learning things about Nico, but she’s pretty sure that he likes her playing with his hair more than she likes him playing with hers. He clears his throat. “And, um, I don’t need to pack yet. I’m staying in Jersey a bit longer.”

“Yeah? How much longer?”

“Like, June 7? So what is that..three weeks?”

She blinks. “Nico, I don’t-”

“This has nothing to do with you,” he says, before grimacing. “That’s not what I mean. It actually has a lot to do with you. But it was my choice. I’m in no rush to get back, in terms of training and all that. Plus, a bunch of the guys are staying for a bit too. And I want to spend time with you, because I do have…what did you say? ‘Impeccably shit timing.’”

“I just want to make it clear that you don’t have to stay just for me,” she assures softly. “I know you miss home and I understand the importance of an off season.”

He looks up at her earnestly, “Spending time with you is also important to me.”

Her heart soars as she traces his lips with her thumb. He catches her hand and kisses her knuckles. “Well, I’m not gonna complain about that.”

The rooftop bar that night is a fun time, even if she feels very much out of her tax bracket. She chats with pretty much everyone, much more comfortable than she was at the start of the season. People egg her on to share childhood stories of Jack and Luke, which she has plenty of. And even if they both groan and act embarrassed, she knows they love it. The drinks are plentiful and she likes seeing everyone let loose the way they can’t during the season. She’s sure the team is still disappointed from their season to some extent, so it’s nice to see them all smile and laugh and generally have a good time. 

At some point in the night, she’s sitting by herself for some space, admiring the skyline with a ginger ale in her hands, taking a break from the alcohol she’s consumed tonight. 

“Social butterfly finally tired out?”

She looks up to see Jack, cheeks flushed and hair adorably tousled, staring down at her. She scooches over to offer him a seat. “A bit. It just hit me that I’m running on four hours of sleep.”

He snorts, sitting down. “Yeah, that’ll do it.” He tucks himself into her side like he used to do as a kid, taking her arm and using it as a pillow. “We still on for dinner tomorrow? Just me, you and Lukey?”

“Of course. I gotta get my fix in before you all leave me to hang with all your friends.”

Jack shoves her lightly. “We’re literally staying in Jersey until the end of the month. Or the Northeast, at least.”

“Okay, and Trevor literally flies in in two days. And then you and Luke’s friends are gonna rotate in and out. I’ll be lucky if I get a second of quiet at the apartment.”

Jack laughs, but then a worried look crosses his face. “I told them that under no circumstance can they enter your room without your permission. I don’t want them being here to fuck up your schedule.”

She waves him off. “It’s fine, Jack. I promise. Besides, I’ll just hide out at Nico’s if I need. Did he tell you that he’s staying a bit longer?”

His smirks. “He did. Mom invited him to spend the long weekend with us up in New Hampshire.”

“He didn’t mention that.”

“Probably because I literally just told him an hour ago when Mom texted me. You know this means he’s gonna be meeting Maeve, right?”

She blinks. “Shit, yeah. A bit soon, no?”

To her surprise, instead of agreeing or making fun of her, Jack just shrugs. “I don’t think so. You and Nico are the real deal.”

Her mouth drops open a bit in shock. “Oh.” 

Jack just shoots her an award-winning grin. “And Maeve is gonna love him.”

That, Clementine thinks, is most definitely true,

As they drive home, she’s in the passenger seat with Luke and Jack in the back, quietly dozing off. Nico’s hand is on her thigh as she’s queuing songs up on her phone. Even after living in the city for almost a year now, she still finds herself in awe at the NYC skyline, especially on the rare chance she gets to see it from the angle of leaving the city in a car this late. Her attention is brought elsewhere when she feels a squeeze on her thigh. She looks at Nico and smiles. 

(It’s hard to not smile when she looks at Nico)

“You have fun?” He asks softly, careful not to disturb the brothers in the back. 

“Lots,” she responds. “Thanks for having me.”

“Of course,” he says. “I think there would have been an uproar if you hadn’t come. Everyone loves having you around.”

“Jack told me you’re invited to Memorial Day weekend celebrations in New Hampshire.”

“Yeah. It was sweet of Ellen to invite me. It’ll be fun to experience a classic summer weekend out here.” He suddenly looks at her, worried. “That’s okay, right? I don’t wanna intrude.”

“What? Of course it’s fine. It’s gonna be a chill weekend with good food and a lot of sun. You know you’re gonna be meeting my mom, right?”

“Is that a problem? Moms usually like me. Ellen likes me, I think.”

Clementine rolls her eyes. “No, I just, as long as you know.”

Nico looks over at her. “Your mom’s clearly important to you and raised a beautiful woman. I’m excited to meet her.” She swallows roughly. Nico changes topics easily. “Have you figured out your plans for the summer? How much vacation time do you have?”

“Not much. Maybe, like, two weeks at most. I’m still trying to figure it out. The boys invited me to Michigan, which would be fun. I haven’t been back there for a bit. Some of my friends from med school are going to meet back up in California at some point.”

“Two very different options.”

“Yeah. I probably need to figure it out soon though so I can request the leave.”

“Have you thought about Switzerland?”

She’s looking out her window, so she doesn’t see the hesitant but honest look on his face. “Showing me your hometown already, Cap?” She jokes

“If you want.” She whips her head to look at him. Oh. He’s serious. He backtracks. “I-I get if you think it’s too soon, but you’ve mentioned that you wanna go back. And I could show you around. Or we could go to other places in Europe too. I-I feel bad that I’m about to leave when we haven’t gotten quality time together which I know is partially my fault-”

She pushes her chin into his arm, looking up at him as he briefly looks down at her before focusing back on the road. “You’d be okay with that? Me coming to your hometown?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“We just started dating officially..what, like a month ago? Not even?” She looks to the backseat to ensure that Jack and Luke are still asleep, or are at least faking it to give them some sort of privacy. They are. She turns back around. “I don’t…I just don’t want you to feel like you- I-you’re really important to me,” she admits with a swallow. “I don’t wanna mess it up by moving too fast.”

“You’re not messing anything up,” Nico takes her hand and kisses the back of it. “I’m not gonna push you. It’s ultimately your decision. But I would absolutely love to show you around where I grew up and spend more time together.”

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course,” he assures. “Take all the time you need.”

She leans to kiss his cheek. 

…..

“Switzerland?” Luke practically screeches. “To introduce you to his family?”

Clementine rolls her eyes, sliding him a glass of orange juice across the counter. Trevor giggles into his coffee and without looking, she smacks the back of his head. 

“Switzerland because it’s beautiful and to spend time with my boyfriend,” Clementine says pointedly. 

“Go frolic in Europe with your new boyfriend,” Trevor grins. “You deserve it. Jacky tells me you’re barely home.”

“I’m trying to become a doctor, Trev. I signed up for not having a life.”

“Exactly, which is an even better reason to go visit your hot boyfriend in Europe.” Jack and Luke give their old friend a weird look. Trevor just shrugs. “What? Your captain’s a good looking guy, and you’re delusional if you think differently.”

“I don’t care if Nico is the hottest person in the world. He’s kissing my sister. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.” Luke says with a wrinkled nose. 

Jack chuckles, ruffling his little brother’s hair. “Well, get used to it, Moose. And it’s kinda our fault. I mean, we’re the ones who wanted this all season. It’s fucking hilarious that they decided to start a relationship when they did though.” He comes up behind Clementine and pokes her side, rinsing his plate before putting it in the dishwasher. “Z’s right. You should go. Even if that means you wouldn’t be able to come to Michigan.”

“Aw, Clemmy’s missing the Michigan trip again?” Trevor whines. “Nevermind. Fuck your boyfriend.”

“I haven’t been to Michigan in three years so I don’t know what you’re whining about,” Clementine snorts. “And you can’t get rid of me that quickly. Especially because I, you know, live here and y’all are going to be around for who knows how long.” She taps Trevor’s phone on the counter to check the time. “Alright, I gotta head to the hospital. See you guys later.”

“Bye!”

“Love you.”

“See you tonight? What time will you be back?”

“11? Midnight the latest,” she grabs her pasta salad lunch from the fridge into her tote bag. “Have fun. Call if you need me. The usual.”

“Be safe,” Jack calls out. She clicks the door shut. 

Her phone buzzes in her hand. She laughs out loud. 

Quinny Hughes

Heard you’re going to Switzerland? 

She rolls her eyes. It’s nice to know the brothers’ group chat is still as active and rapid as ever.

Clementine Sandoval 

all three of you are actually the worst

and i’m older than all of you don’t be trying to parent me

Quinny Hughes

So you are going. 

At least get us some good chocolate then.

Clementine Sandoval

lol i miss you

did you ever figure out if you’re coming to nh for memorial day?

it’s literally in two days i hope you have an answer

Quinny Hughes

Yeah I am. Especially now that you aren’t coming to Michigan this summer. Jack and Luke get to see you all the time it’s my turn.

And I’ll get to interrogate your new boyfriend.

Clementine Sandoval

sigh 

are you at least bringing lauren

Quinny Hughes

Yup.

Clementine Sandoval 

fantastic

finally another fucking girl

Quinny Hughes

Lol. See you soon❤️

Clementine smiles before starting her car. 

…..

Two days later, Jack, Luke, Trevor, Nico and Clementine pile into Jack’s car to head up to the Hughes family’s lakehouse to spend the long weekend. She lets Luke have the passenger seat because it’s a five hour drive and he has the longest legs. Additionally, she finds great amusement in seeing Nico and Trevor interact and getting to sit in the middle of them and put her head on Nico’s shoulder and her legs over Trevor’s lap. Though, with Trevor’s constant yapping, Nico’s surprisingly unhinged stories, Jack’s loud laughter and Luke’s tendency to make a comment on everything, the drive goes by so damn slow that by the time they roll into the driveway, Clementine is practically shoving Trevor to get out of the car.

At the front door, Ellen’s laughing and Clementine rushes over to her second mother to give her a big hug. 

Ellen rocks her back and forth. “It’s so good to see you, my girl.”

“You literally saw her three weeks ago?” Jack says, coming up behind them.

“Hide your jealousy better, Jacky,” Clementine teases. “It’s always good to see you, Ellen.” Jim comes up behind his wife and she beams. “Hi Jimmy!”

He laughs, wrapping her in a fatherly hug. “Hi Sunshine. El made sangria for everyone, and it’s still cold.”

Clementine lights up. “Oh amazing. I’ll grab a glass after I get my stuff.” She turns around to see Nico coming up the stairs with both his and her bags in his hands. 

A knowing smile appears on Jim’s face. “Think that’s already covered.” She rushes to help him out but Nico just swats her away. Jim nods at Nico. “Good to see you again, Nico.”

“Good to see you too, Mr. Hughes,” he puts his bags down to shake Jim’s hand and hug Ellen, as Jack, Luke and Trevor clamber into the house. “Thank you both so much for having me.”

“Anytime, Nico!” Ellen beams. “And please, call us by our first names. You’re family, especially after recent developments.” 

Clementine rolls her eyes as Nico immediately becomes flustered. “Really? Mom’s not even here yet.”

“Oh can you blame me, Clementine? Now I don’t have to hear Jack and Luke whine about when their sister and captain are going to get together.” Ellen says. “But I’ll be cool for now. Why don’t you show Nico up to your room and drop all your stuff off? Your mom picked up Quinn and Lauren from Logan and should be here any minute. Boys!” She calls out and Jack, Luke and Trevor magically appear and Clementine rolls her eyes. “Take your stuff up to your rooms so no one trips over your things. Trevor and Jack, you’re sharing.”

Trevor turns to Jack with a kissy face and Jack grimaces. “You and me, Jacky boy! Just like old times.”

“Get the fuck away from me,” Jack says dryly as Luke chuckles. Jack glares at his younger brother. “How come you get a solo room?”

“Because Quinn and Lauren are getting the other room.”

“And where is Maeve staying?”

“Probably in the basement so she doesn’t have to deal with all you guys.” Clementine retorts. 

Jack turns to his parents. “You’re letting Clee and Nico share a room? And Quinn and Lauren?”

“We’re adults, you know?” Clementine sighs, pinching her nose. “You guys are exhausting. Move out of my way so we can get through.” She hears Nico stifle a laugh as they reluctantly clear a pathway. “Somehow they’re even more annoying during off-season than during the season,” she says as they climb up the stairs.

“It’s fine,” Nico chuckles. “It’s nice. The chaos, I mean. Tells a lot about who you are.”

“Don’t associate me with those fools,” Clementine says with no heat as she pushes open the door to the room in this house that’s always been designated as hers. “Here we are.”

Nico puts the bags down and immediately scans some of the photos framed on the wall. He ‘aww’s and she turns around to find him staring at the one of her and the boys during her UCLA graduation. “You guys are such babies here.”

“A week before Jack got drafted,” Clementine recalls fondly. “The boys surprised me. I didn’t think they were gonna come because they had so much hockey stuff going on.”

“You went to all their drafts, right?” Nico says. Clementine nods. “So of course they were there during one of your biggest moments.” Nico points to another photo of both families when they were all at this exact lake house. Her dad’s in this one. “When was this taken?”

“2013.” Clementine smiles sadly. “It was the last summer my dad came here. I know it’s one of Ellen’s favorites. Mine too.”

Nico hums, kissing her temple gently before scanning the rest of the room. It’s mostly white with some rustic elements, splashes of tan and ocean blue in the comforter and the sparse decorations.  “Would I be right in assuming that this room hasn’t changed much since you were young?”

“It’s definitely cleaner,” Clementine laughs. “I know Jim and El use it as a guest room, but whenever I get the chance to come back, they say it’s mine.” There’s the sound of the front door opening and a cacophony of greetings floating through the room. She turns her body towards him and looks up at him. “Are you sure about this?”

“Well, even if I wasn’t, it’s a bit too late now, isn’t it?” He says. She pokes him in the side. He leans down to gently peck her lips twice. “Why are you so nervous? Shouldn’t I be the one who’s nervous?” 

She chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right. Let’s go down.”

They walk down the stairs, Nico close behind her but not quite touching her. Clementine beams as she watches her mom hug Luke and put her hands on his cheeks before greeting Jack in the same way. She knows her mom doesn’t ever miss seeing the Devils or the Canucks when they’re playing the Bruins in Boston, but that only totals to usually only three games a season. 

Clementine thinks a lot about how she sees Jim and Ellen as her parents. It’s during these moments does she remember that the boys see her mom the exact same way. 

Maeve’s eyes flit up to the stairs and she raises an eyebrow. “My beautiful daughter. You look exhausted.”

Clementine snorts. “Thanks, Mom.” She descends down the last step and hugs her mother tightly, breathing in the scent that has comforted her on the best and worst days. She catches Quinn’s eye over Maeve’s shoulder as Trevor is chatting in his ear and she can’t help but grin. 

Maeve pulls away and eyes Nico, a half smile on her face. “And you must be the infamous Nico.”

Nico chuckles, eyes widening momentarily as Maeve pulls him into a hearty hug. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Sandoval.”

Maeve lets out an affronted noise. “None of that. Call me Maeve. You European boys and your politeness.” Clementine laughs under her breath. “It’s so nice to meet you! My daughter hasn’t mentioned how handsome you are.”

“Probably because she’s the one carrying in the looks department of the relationship.” Nico grins charmingly and Clementine feels so fucking fond.

She then begins to leave her boyfriend and her mom to converse and turns to Quinn. Time with Quinn is always scarce. She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck. “Hey Q.”

“Hey Clem.” 

Clementine turns to the beautiful girl next to him. “And you must be Lauren. It’s nice to finally meet you.” She also pulls the girl into a hug. “Quinn’s been keeping you away from me.”

Quinn shoots his older sister a dirty look. “That’s not true. It’s not my fault you don’t live in California any more.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Lauren says softly. “Quinn’s told me so much about you. I love your pants.”

Clementine looks down at her cream flowy pants with a wide smile. “Oh thank you! You’re gorgeous. How in the world did Quinn land you?”

Lauren laughs as Quinn groans. “Clem.”

“I’m kidding!” She ruffles his hair. “Damn, let me have my fun. I don’t get to do this often. And don’t pretend that you’re not about to grill Nico this entire weekend.”

“She’s got you there,” Lauren says with a laugh.

Trevor comes up inbetween the girls. “Have you met this one yet?” Clementine asks.

Lauren nods. “I have. Kinda. Hi Trevor. Quinn’s also told me a lot about you.”

Trevor’s eyes widen as he pulls Lauren into a side hug. “Never listen to anything Quinn says about me. He’s mean to me.”

“You guys are all mean to each other,” Clementine rolls her eyes. “I don’t know what point you’re trying to make.” 

Maeve claps her hands. “Out of the doorway and into the backyard, everyone! El made sangria and it’s too nice to be inside.” She picks up her bags but is swatted away by Luke, who takes the bags from her hands. Maeve kisses him on the cheek. “Thanks, honey.”

Jack rolls his eyes as they all start walking towards the kitchen. “We get it, Maeve. Luke is your favorite.” Ellen gives him a warning look as Quinn snorts. 

“You know,” Maeve starts. “I was about to tell you how glad I am to see you. But with that comment, I’ll abstain.” Jack pouts and Maeve rolls her eyes but messes up his hair fondly. 

Nico places his hand on Clementine’s back and leans down to mutter in her ear. “I see where you get your sass from.”

Clementine chuckles under her breath. “You gotta have some sass to deal with them. My mom’s the blueprint.”

Everyone grabs a glass of sangria before they migrate outside. Clementine finds herself sitting in between Lauren and Luke, Nico sitting by her legs with everyone else in various chairs or on the grass in some sort of circle. Clementine automatically carding her fingers though Nico’s hair as she speaks to Lauren and Quinn. She still can’t believe they’ve been dating for over a year and she’s only met Lauren now. 

If she was still in California, she would’ve flown her ass to Vancouver and parked herself at Quinn’s apartment at the first chance she had. 

While she’s listening in on a conversation between Nico, Quinn and Trevor, she catches both her mom and Ellen’s eyes on her. She narrows her eyes. She sees her mom not-so-subtly eyeing her hand in Nico’s hair and him leaning back against her legs. 

Jack notices, looking between the two of them with a smirk. “Thoughts, Maeve?”

“Jack,” Clementine says in a warning tone. Nico squeezes her ankle in reassurance. 

“I didn’t even say anything!” 

Maeve chuckles, and Clementine sees her smile, the same smile that everyone says she also has. “Nothing in particular. Just thinking about how fun your time in Jersey has probably been so far.”

Clementine bites her lip, closed lipped-smile threatening to burst through the seams. “It could be worse.” 

As expected, Jack rolls his eyes and Luke gives her a dirty look. “Well, what could make it better?” Luke asks. 

“If you guys cooked more for me.”

Quinn looks at his brothers with a disapproving look. “You’re making Clem cook for all of you? Guys, come on. She’s busier than all of us combined.”

Jack’s jaw drops wide open as Trevor cackles. “That’s not even true! We cook for you. Just not as much because you’re just a better cook. And you always have leftovers.” Jack reaches over to whack Clementine’s shoulder. “Stop making us look like bad roommates.”

Clementine chuckles to herself. She has a lot of favorite things in life, but making fun of her brothers and throwing them under the bus has to be at the top. 

Nico looks up at her and she has to stop herself from leaning down and kissing him silly. “That cake you baked me for my birthday is still the best dessert I’ve had in awhile.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re just being nice. And, I baked another one for Jack and Luke, which circles back to my point.”

Ellen starts lightly scolding her two youngest for not cooking more and Clementine snickers as she feels Nico’s shoulders shake as he’s trying to hold back his laugh. She drops his hands from his hair and instead leans forward, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. He automatically grabs her wrists and keeps his hands there. She places a quick kiss to the side of his head. 

(Without their knowledge, Maeve catches the romantic motion. She doesn’t even bother to hide her smile.)

It’s not the first time she’s seen Nico around the people she loves, but that whole weekend, she watches him and her mom get along so well, him offer to help out Ellen and Jim for meals, him shove Trevor into the lake when he’s being an absolute pest, him sitting down with Quinn by the fire one night a bit away from everyone to talk about something that neither Quinn or Nico will tell her about so she knows it’s about her. 

He slips so easily into the most important part of her life. Clementine doesn’t quite love him yet, but she’s real close. 

Their last night, as they’re getting ready to sleep, Clementine's just staring at Nico from her bed as he’s in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He catches her eye in the mirror and smiles, but toothpaste dribbles down his chins causing him to curse and her to laugh. 

When he climbs under the covers, she places her head on his chest. “Thanks.” 

“For?” 

“Coming here. I’m sure it’s a lot.” 

“It’s not,” he assures gently. “Why would it be?” 

She shrugs, because he’s right, in a sense. “Families are always a lot, no matter how good they are. And I know Quinn and Jimmy grilled you way more than necessary.” 

“Baby,” he rubs up and down her arm. “I knew that was gonna happen as soon as I was invited here. They were more than fine. Jack and Luke’s threats were way worse.”

“They’re annoying.” 

“They love you,” he says. “And they’re protective of you. I get it. I’m the same way with Nina.” 

She shifts so she’s eye level with him. “About that…” 

“Hm?” 

“I got the okay from my supervisors to take two weeks off.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Can I still come to see you in Switzerland?” She asks, biting her lip, nervous all of a sudden. 

Nico kisses her soundly. “Of course,” he mutters against her lips. “Yes. When?”

“I was thinking early July?” 

“To spend your birthday?” 

“If you’ll have me.” 

He squeezes her exaggeratingly, making her giggle. “You’re silly. Of course. Is there anywhere you really wanna go?” 

“I mean, I’ll go anywhere.”

“I can take you all around Switzerland. Give you the grand tour.”

“That sounds perfect,” she swallows before bringing up something that’s very important to her. “I’m paying half.” 

Nico counters back immediately. “One third.” 

She scoffs. She was prepared for this disagreement. “Half.” 

“Hey,” he kisses the top of her head. “You’re coming to see me. The least I can do is handle all of that.” 

“You’re housing me and taking me around. I’m paying for half.” 

“Nope.”

“Nico. I am perfectly capable of paying for myself.” 

“You pay for your own plane tickets and I got the rest.” 

“I pay for my own plane tickets and meals and then you got the rest.” 

“Schätzli. Let me take care of it, yeah? I want to. And I’m perfectly capable of doing so.” 

“I don’t want you to think I’m a gold digger,” Clementine says with a bit of a whine, making Nico snort. 

“I know you’re not a gold digger. If you were, you’d actually let Jack pay for you more. You know he makes more than I do, right?”

“Weird flex.”

“You pay for your plane tickets and some meals,” he compromises. “Save the rest up for something else. Buy Luke a new suit for his birthday or something.” 

She chuckles. “He does need one.” 

“Exactly.” 

Clementine lets out relenting a sigh. She’ll just have to sneak her card in here or there. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Yeah. I just really don’t want you to think I’m mooching off you or anything.” 

“I’ve never thought of it like that at all, I promise,” he assures. She settles back against his chest again. “I’m so excited for you to come.” 

“I hope your family doesn’t hate me.” 

“They won’t.” And he says it so confidently that she has to believe him. “No one could hate you. Besides, Nina’s been dying to meet you and Luca wants to know the ‘girl who’s voluntarily dealing with my shit.’”

She laughs, turning to shut off the lamp. “Still. You’re their baby brother.” 

He pouts. “I’m not a baby.” 

She rolls her eyes. “I’m convinced.” She yawns, tossing a blanket over them both. “We should sleep. Gotta have energy to deal with the hooligans in the car tomorrow.” 

He laughs, kissing her forehead. “Goodnight.” 

*****

Clementine offers to drive Nico to the airport before she goes to the hospital, even though he tries to vehemently fight her on it. Clementine ultimately wins the argument, wanting to spend as much time as possible before he leaves. 

“It’s only a month,” she reminds him as she kills the engine at the curbside of the departure terminal at Newark Liberty International Airport, biting her lip to also assure herself. 

He leans over the console to kiss her sweetly. “I know,” he murmurs against her lips. “That’s a long time though.”

She runs a hand through his hair. He leans into it instinctively. “I’ll be there with you before you know it. You’ll be having too much fun catching up with family and friends to even think about me.”

“Not true.” She rolls her eyes with a smile as they both climb out of the car. Nico finishes unloading his luggage from the trunk as he carries it to the curb. Clementine’s amazed that no one has yelled at them for parking by the curbside too long yet.

She wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly, leaning her head on his chest and breathing in deeply, trying to memorize his scent. “I’ll miss you.”

“I miss you already,” he mutters into her hair. “I’ll call.”

“You fucking better,” she shoots back with no bite. “Have fun, okay? Enjoy your time off.”

He kisses her one more time, which turns into three more times. Clementine bites her lower lip as he backs away to try not to cry. He brushes his thumb against her cheek. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

She nods with a shaky smile. “Yeah. Text me before you take off.”

“Of course.” He clasps his hand on his suitcase handles and backs away with a sweet smile. “Bye, baby.”

After he walks through the doors, she promptly drives herself to the train station, music playing louder than normal to hopefully drown out her own loud thoughts. She parks to see a text from Nico saying that he’s at the gate, a horribly-angled selfie of him and a coffee he must’ve bought. 

Clementine saves it.

…..

It’s only been eleven days since Nico flew back to Switzerland. They text everyday and FaceTime when the time differences allow. She always wakes up to a good morning text and a mini photo dump of pictures he’s taken that day. Sometimes they’re of the beautiful sights of Bern or Naters or wherever he is. Sometimes they’re literally just a picture of his toast for breakfast. But they’re nice to receive. And at his urging, she sends similar photo dumps back. His favorites are the selfies she takes at work. Bonus points if she’s wearing the scrubs he got her for Christmas. 

She goes to the hospital. She spends sporadic time with Quinn, Jack, Luke and other stragglers who show up at the apartment before they all head back to Michigan or wherever else. Nico relaxes with his friends and family. 

She misses him like a limb. 

…..

Clementine’s phone rings as she’s sipping on her coffee while sitting at a cafe by the hospital. She raises an eyebrow when she sees who’s calling. 

“Quinn. Hey.”

“Hi Clem. Are you busy?”

“You have me for about 15 minutes. What’s up?” She hears a sniffle and immediately she sits up straighter. “Quinny? Is everything okay?”

“Lauren and I broke up.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “Fuck. Oh Quinn, I’m so sorry. When did this happen?”

“Earlier this morning. She-she called it off. Over the phone.”

“Over the phone?” Clementine tries to level her voice and judgment. “Wasn’t she just in Michigan?”

“She left last week.”

“Fuck, Quinn. How are you feeling?”

“I just, I’m just really sad, I guess. And a bit confused.” She gives him a moment to think. “I know she was voicing concerns about the distance and stuff, but we had talked about it and I thought we had come to a conclusion. I guess we left that conversation feeling very differently.”

Clementine picks at her nails, “What was her reasoning? Did she have any?”

“She said the distance wasn’t worth it anymore.” Quinn trails off and Clementine puts it together, her heart breaking for him as she finishes the thought for him. 

That Quinn wasn’t worth it anymore. 

Clementine grinds her teeth together. “Fuck her,” she says. “I know that’s not what you want to hear right now, but I’m serious. What the fuck? She just suddenly decided that after dating for over a year that she couldn’t do it anymore?”

“Yeah. I’m confused about that too. When she was talking and explaining her reasoning over the phone I was just, like, shell-shocked. I think I froze. She was bringing up things that she hadn’t ever brought up before and I don’t know, it just felt like she had made the decision to break up with me before I even picked up the phone. It wouldn’t have mattered what I said.”

“That’s shitty, Quinny. How unfair.”

“I mean,” she knows he’s shrugging on the other side of the phone. She wishes she could hug him. “I know I wasn’t the perfect boyfriend and there were underlying issues, but I-I tried my best.”

“I know, Quinn. I know,” Clementine sighs. How do you comfort one of your best friends through heartbreak when you can’t actually be there? “Q, I’m so sorry. I have to head back to work, but I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Oh. That’s okay. You don’t have to. Thanks for listening anyways.”

“I’ll call you back tonight. I promise. I love you. Hang in there.”

“Thanks, Clem. Love you too.”

Clementine manages to do one thing she does very well, which is push something out of her mind and focus on the task at hand. The second she clocks out of the hospital, on her commute back to Hoboken, she thinks through how she wants to talk this through with Quinn. It’s not her first time talking someone through a break-up, so she’s learned a few tricks and phrases here and there. Like most things, it just comes with repetition.  

But this is also Quinn. Her best friend. All her previous experience might not work and might not even matter.

She calls him as soon as she finishes her shower. She lets him talk for over two hours to the point where she has to adjust her position on the couch to be near an outlet so her phone can charge. 

There’s nothing really to say in a situation like this, as Quinn details what sounds a lot like heartbreak. She wishes she was in Michigan and could give him the tightest hug. Watching and hearing his sniffles through the phone has her throat closing up and all she can do is listen.

But as she climbs into her bed that night, she lets out a breath. She’s sure it hurts so much now, but Quinn will find a way. 

He always does. 

…..

Clementine’s phone reads 6:28 a.m. local time when she lands in Zurich. She yawns as she watches the plane taxi to their gate, Taylor Swift’s “august” playing softly in her ears. Somehow, the two seats next to her were empty so she had her own row the whole flight, meaning she got to go up and pee without bothering a single person. 

She turns on her phone, and texts the chat with the Hughes / Sandoval families that she’s landed, before thumbing over to her thread with Nico. He sent a text eight minutes ago. 

Nico Hischier 

At the arrivals area. Can’t wait to see you ❤️

Clementine Sandoval 

just landed!!! can’t wait to squeeze you 

Immigration and customs goes quickly, even if Clementine finds herself tapping her foot in line. She can already feel the heat of the Switzerland summer air seeping into her skin and she tugs off her sweatshirt, happy that she has a t-shirt underneath. Once she grabs her luggage from the carousel, she takes a deep breath, wheeling her suitcase through to the arrivals hall. Her eyes dart around to try and spot her boyfriend. It doesn’t take long. 

The grin spreads on her face when she sees Nico. He’s wearing an olive green t-shirt that’s seen better days and dark jeans topped off with those scuffed up Nikes that he always seems to wear. 

He’s holding a bouquet of wildflowers wrapped in newspaper, the sweetest smile peeking over. Clementine feels her heart threatening to burst out of her chest. 

She almost knocks her suitcase over as she throws her arms around him. She feels him chuckle and place a kiss on the side of her head. “Hi Schätzli,” he says softly. 

“Hi,” she pulls back and kisses him. But they’re both grinning too much to kiss properly. She holds his cheeks in her hand, happy to just be around him after a month. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you more,” he grins. “You look so beautiful.”

Clementine snorts because her Stanford t-shirt tied with her hair tie in the front and the black leggings with her Adidas definitely scream ‘I’ve been on a transatlantic flight and I need to shower.’

“I look like I just was on a plane for 8 hours,” she says dryly. 

“Beautiful,” Nico says firmly as he takes the backpack off her shoulders and grabs her suitcase, giving her the flowers to hold. “For you”

She sniffs the flowers and smiles. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me these. They’re so pretty.”

“You’re so pretty,” he replies simply. That’s twice in 30 seconds. He turns to look at her again as they walk out to the parking lot. “I’m so happy you’re here.” 

“Thank you for driving all this way. I know it’s early and far.”

“Of course. I just want to see you.”

It doesn’t feel like it’s been a month as Nico starts the drive to Bern to his sister’s place where they’re staying for a few days. The sun’s high in the sky despite the early hour, and Clementine happily sips on the coffee and munches on the croissant Nico had graciously gotten her. They catch up on each other’s weeks like they have been over the phone when they’ve been almost 4,000 miles apart. They talk about the teenager who recognized Nico the other day when Nico and his friends were playing a game of pick-up soccer and how they all played until sundown and Clementine having to step in to assist in a higher than average number of surgeries the last month, as well as having to work the Fourth of July. She holds his hand the entire time and both of them can’t seem to stop the smile from spreading across their lips. 

She’s here. In the most beautiful country. With the most wonderful person. 

“How are you feeling?” Nico asks. “Are you really tired?”

“I’m okay.” She yawns. “Even if I am, I’m not sleeping until at least 9 tonight. I’m not wasting time here by being jetlagged and sleeping at weird times.”

Nico laughs. “Fair. But it’s okay if you’re tired for a few days. I always am.”

“No wasted time,” she says, poking his shoulder on every word. 

“If you say so,” he grins. “My mom’s making a huge breakfast for us when we get back and everyone’s excited to meet you.”

Suddenly, Clementine is nervous again. “She didn’t have to do that.”

“She wanted to,” he assures. “I haven’t brought a girl back home in…ever, really. They’re probably more excited to meet you than you are to meet them.”

“No pressure at all,” she says dryly. 

He looks over at her and squeezes her hand. “You’ll win them over in minutes.” Clementine hums before Nico continues. “If Jack could somehow have them all liking him in a day, you’re gonna be perfectly fine. You’re all the best parts of him and more anyways.” She reaches over to fix a strand of his hair and she wants to smirk at the light blush that paints his cheeks. He clears his throat, “I was thinking of taking it easy today, just walking around the town and exploring the area a bit. And then dinner at my favorite place in town?”

“Sounds perfect to me.” 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he says breathily. “I, just…I can’t believe it.”

She grins, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “Well believe it, pretty boy.”

(His stomach flips at being called ‘pretty boy.’ She hasn’t said that one yet. Two months after they’ve officially started dating and he still feels like a teenage boy with the biggest crush on the prettiest girl in school)

They pull up to Nina’s place and Clementine feels like she’s in a dream. Bern is beautiful everywhere you look. It’s almost like she’s in a picture book of a fairytale. She stretches and rises on her tiptoes to kiss Nico on the cheek to thank him for grabbing her luggage. She tugs at his t-shirt and he stops to turn to her, momentarily confused. She just wrap her arms around his waist again, wanting to feel him before they’re surrounded by his family. He chuckles, rubbing her back and kissing the top of her head three times. 

As they’re walking up the steps to the front door, it swings open as Katja, Nico’s mother, beams. “You guys made it! Hello!”

Clementine can’t help but smile back. “Hi,” she shifts the flowers so that she can shake Katja’s hand, but Katja doesn’t bother and just wraps her into a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Hischier. Thank you so much for having me.”

“Thank you for coming all this way,” Katja’s eyes shift to Nico, who’s a few steps behind with Clementine’s luggage. “Nico tells us good things.”

She chuckles and ducks her head. “I think your son is a bit too nice to me.”

“Ignore her, Mama,” Nico says as they all walk into the house. “The only person who doesn’t know she’s the best is herself.” 

There’s footsteps coming down the stairs. Clementine’s met immediately with Nina’s smile. It’s the exact same as her mother and her brother’s and she is absolutely stunning. Luca is behind his sister as well with a matching grin. And Rino, who Clementine suddenly realizes is where Nico gets so many of his facial features from, just stands to the side with a small smile. 

“You’re here!” Nina exclaims. Nico says something quick in Swiss German which Nina rolls her eyes at before she pulls Clementine into a tight hug. “It’s so nice to meet you, Clementine. We’ve heard so much.”

“Yeah,” Luca echoes. “I’ve never seen Nico so excited about someone.”

Nico groans and Clementine hugs Luca with a giggle before nudging her boyfriend. “He’s not so bad either.” She turns to shake Rino’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Hischier. Thank you for having me.” Rino shakes her hand with a warm smile before Nico pinches her side and pulls her closer. 

“Okay, breakfast is almost ready!” Katja claps her hands. “Nico, why don’t you show Clementine to your room? Luca and Nina, come help me finish up. Oh! I can take those flowers from you. Did Nico get you those?”

Clementine giggles as she hands them over. “He did.”

Katja pats Nico’s cheek in such a motherly way that it makes Clementine’s heart ache in the best way. “I did raise a sweet one.”

Nico groans. “Mama.” Clementine makes eye contact with Nina and they both burst out laughing. “Come on. You can take a quick shower and then we’ll come back down.”

Clementine shoots a quick grin at Katja, Rino, Nina and Luca before following Nico upstairs. She decides to jump into the shower quickly and rinse off, partially to wake her up, mostly to wash the grime of the plane off of her. Nico’s sitting on the bed scrolling through her phone when she comes back out, hair wet and dressed in a light sweater and linen shorts. 

“The fact that there’s a window in the shower looking over the mountains is so unfair,” she says, combing her fingers through her wet hair. 

Nico chuckles. “Pretty, hey?”

“Very,” she yawns. “Come on. Don’t wanna leave your family waiting.”

Breakfast is absolutely delicious and filled with warm conversation, mainly filled with the Hischier family asking Clementine questions about herself, which she happily answers inbetween way too much bread, butter and coffee. Nico tries to intercept a few times (“This isn’t an interrogation, Luca”) but she just waves him off. It’s not like she likes talking about herself, but when being surrounded by people everyday who know the ins and outs of her career, it’s refreshing to have people take interest in what she does who don’t work in the medical field at all. 

After breakfast, Clementine and Nico venture into the town and Clementine is all smiles. The sun is out but it’s not too hot where she aches for shade like she does back in the US. She had changed into a dress after breakfast and doesn’t regret it, resisting the urge to twirl around the streets. It doesn’t hurt that Nico looks at her in a way that makes her giddy.

As they’re walking through the scenic old town, it’s obvious how relaxed Nico is. Away from New Jersey and the expectations that come with being the captain of the sole professional sports team from Garden State, Nico looks like every other guy in his mid twenties. It’s not like he isn’t happy in New Jersey, but there’s something freeing in the way he walks, his shoulders free from the weight he carries during the season. 

They walk in the sun leisurely, stop by a few shops that look interesting to Clementine and grab coffee and pastries from a cafe that Nico apparently frequents often, judging by how friendly he is with the staff. She hasn’t really gotten to hear Nico speak his native language that often so she enjoys hearing him switch so effortlessly.

“You look happy,” Nico comments as they’re taking a break and sitting on a bench to people watch. 

She tears her eyes away from an adorable family to meet Nico’s warm, brown eyes. “Do I?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I am. Are you?”

He presses a kiss to her temple and she leans her cheek against his shoulder. “Very much so.”

“Did I pass the test?” She teases. “Your family doesn't hate me?”

“Stop,” he says with a smile. “They love you. I can tell. I think my mom fell in love with you the second you talked about growing up with the boys.”

“Really?”

“She has a soft spot for sibling relationships. She always tells us how she’s glad me, Luca and Nina get along so well.”

“They’re great, by the way, your family,” she says. “Much less chaotic than mine, which is definitely a good thing. But really, really cool. I…” She trails off at the sight of a stray soccer ball. 

Nico’s eyebrows furrow before he follows her eyeline. He chuckles and gets up, holding out a hand for her. “Come on. Let’s do some passing.”

She lights up at the idea of passing around a ball with the mountains in the background on a fairly large, grassy area. The most picturesque image you could find, she thinks. She takes his hand and scurries over, getting her feet familiar with the ball as he backs away a few feet. 

They start some basic passing as they’re mindful of the fact that she’s wearing a dress. Clementine never saw soccer as more than a form of exercise in her youth, but she sometimes wishes she had time to join a rec league or something of that level in college and afterwards. The few people she keeps in touch with still in Toronto are mostly thanks to her club soccer days. 

She’s definitely rusty, but it’s good to go through the familiar motions again. She wrinkles her nose when Nico pulls off an impressive move. “This is unfair. Are you good at every sport?”

He just shrugs modestly, before passing the ball back to her. “I definitely don’t look at ease with this ball on my feet like you do. How long did you play for?”

“Like, over 10 years?” She executes some footwork and smiles in satisfaction. “Played pretty intensely all the way up until I was 18.”

“I can tell,” he smiles. “My dad would be impressed.”

She snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous. I was never good enough to play at the collegiate level, much less professional.”

“It’s interesting that you do that.”

She stops the ball with her foot. “Do what?”

“Downplay your achievements.”

Clementine blinks a few times. “What do you mean?” But she knows exactly what he means. 

Nico lets out a light snort, “You know what I mean. You’re probably the smartest and most interesting and talented person I’ve ever met. Even when you were talking to my family about your residency, you were talking about it like it isn’t a big deal. But it is a big deal. And it’s really fucking cool. And you’re so smart and quick and…I don’t know. I wish you would show off more, even though I know that’s not your style.”

She smirks. “You want me to show off?” Without waiting for an answer, she concentrates on the ball at her feet and looks up at the goal. She dribbles the ball a few seconds before striking it in the top right corner. She huffs, satisfied that she didn’t whiff it, laughing as Nico tackles her and lifts her up in a hug. 

The next two days are spent in Bern, as Clementine fights the jetlag while her camera roll fills up. The Hischier siblings bring her around and she just soaks up the sunshine, views, and attractions. She especially loves flowing down the river on boats like the most seamless lazy river that just runs through the city, because you can’t really get that in the US. Nico continues bringing her around to his favorite hidden spots and to his favorite shops and restaurants, all with his hand in hers and the most beautiful smile on his face. 

After Clementine says goodbye to Katja and Rino, the four of them take two cars to Zurich, Luca and Nina staying with friends while her and Nico rent out their own place. They arrive at a beautiful, spacious apartment that overlooks the center of Zurich. Clementine’s birthday is tomorrow and she has no idea what the plan is because she trusted Nico when he said he would handle it, but she’s a planner, so she can’t help but bring it up as they’re relaxing before heading out for dinner.

“Nico?”

“Yeah?” He calls out from the bathroom. 

“Can you give me a hint on what we’re doing tomorrow?”

He peeks his head out of the bathroom with a smile. “I was wondering when you were gonna ask.”

She shrugs. “I trust you. But you know I’m nosy.”

Nico chuckles. “Yeah,” he comes out of the bathroom and takes his phone out of his pocket. Once unlocked, he tosses it at her. He’s lucky she has okay reflexes. 

She raises an eyebrow at him before looking at his phone. Immediately, she gasps and drops the phone as it lands on the carpet on the floor. “Nico.”

“Yeah?”

“Nico,” she repeats, breathless. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“Taylor Swift? How long have you had these? How did you even get them?”

He comes over to sit on the arm of the sofa. “Nina’s a big fan. When you said you were gonna coming here for your birthday, she mentioned that Taylor Swift was gonna be in town at the same time. I pulled a few strings.”

She picks up the phone and swipes through the tickets, shellshocked. “Seven tickets?”

“Me, you, Nina, one of her friends, Luca and two of his friends. I guess they’re all kind of my friends too. I hope that’s okay?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed worriedly. 

“Nico, shut up. I’m gonna see my favorite artist live and I wanna meet your friends. Of course it’s okay,” she tackles him onto the couch as he laughs. “I-I can’t believe…thank you. Oh my god.”

“Good birthday present?” He jokes. 

She kisses him fondly. “I don’t know how I’m gonna beat this for yours.”

“Stop,” he murmurs, deepening the kiss. “I’m supposed to ask you if you have something to wear and if not, that you and Nina can find something tonight or tomorrow morning.”

She thinks of the light pink sequin dress she had thrown into her suitcase last minute, grateful for her past self’s decision. “I think I have something, but if I see something when we’re walking around later, I’ll let you know.” She holds his face in her hands. “Thank you. Seriously. First the whole trip and then this. I’ll pay you back for the tickets as-”

“No you won’t,” he says against her lips. She pulls back and gives him an unimpressed look. “I barely paid for them. It would be unfair to ask you to. It’s your birthday. It’s my present to you.”

Let other people do things for you for once, Clem, Quinn’s voice echoes through her head. He’s said multiple iterations of it throughout the years, but this one in particular she can envision, at dinner right after the Canucks played San Jose back in her Stanford days. That was about something simpler — arguing over who was paying for dinner — but the sentiment remains the same. 

“Fine. But I’m paying for everyone’s dinner tonight.”

“Of course,” he beams. 

“I mean it,” she warns. 

“I know.”

She slaps his shoulder with a smile. “You fucker. I can’t believe you got those tickets.”

“27 is gonna be a good year, hey?”

She launches herself into his arms. 

Yeah, it is.

…..

Clementine wakes up on her birthday to Nico pressing kisses all over her face as she squeals and wiggles around. She stretches and her arm whacks him in the face, causing him to groan. She kisses him as an apology. 

“Happy birthday, honey,” he says, hovering over her with a light smile. “I can hear your bones cracking already.”

“I will push you off the bed.”

“Empty threats.”

She yawns. “How much time before everyone gets here?”

“Like, two hours? Why?”

“Perfect,” she says, pulling him closer to kiss him feverishly. He lets out a soft moan and she melts into a puddle

An hour and a half later, Clementine fiddles with the coffee maker in the kitchen as everyone starts filing in. Nina is first to bounce over and gives Clementine a big hug, wishing her a happy birthday. She meets their friends and glares at Luca as he places a large bag on the table with tissue paper peeking out of it. She doesn’t need birthday presents. But it’s sweet they thought of her anyways. 

After lunch at a nearby outdoor cafe that Clementine falls in love with, everyone heads back. The guys venture out to the balcony while she, Nina and Anika, Nina’s friend, quickly make some friendship bracelets and start getting ready. Clementine’s almost done curling Nina’s hair when Nico peeks his head in, lighting up at the open box of beads on the table. He scurries in to grab the supplies and takes them outside without a word.

Anika, who’s been doing Nina’s makeup while Clementine’s been doing her hair, grins. “You two are cute together.”

“Oh, thank you.” Clementine looks up to flash a quick smile before focusing on not burning Nina or herself. 

“I’ve known Nico since he was a baby,” Anika says. “Always the younger one, he was chasing us all the time. Wanted to do everything we were doing. But it was Nico and he was so sweet, so we never said no.”

Clementine chuckles. “Yeah, I get that feeling. Not that my brothers necessarily wanted to do everything I did, but they were never far behind me when we were young.”

“Right,” Anika dabs the liquid blush on Nina’s cheeks. “That’s how you and Nico met, right? Your brothers play with him in New Jersey?”

“Yeah.”

Clementine’s taken aback tone must show because Nina smiles at her through the mirror. “My brother has talked about you quite a bit since he’s come back.”

That makes Clementine look down a bit abashed. “I guess they aren’t technically my brothers,” she clarifies. “I just grew up with them.”

“So like me and Nina here.”

“Yeah. Exactly like that.”

“Do you play hockey?” Anika asks, stepping back as she finishes Nina’s makeup. 

Clementine snorts, spraying hairspray into Nina’s hair. “No. You do not want to see me on skates. I played soccer. Or football, I guess.”

“But you enjoy watching it?” 

The conversation momentarily pauses as Clementine is ushered into the hot seat. Nina unplugs the curler and plugs in the straightener (“I want to try something”) as Anika takes a look at Clementine’s makeup products. 

“I do,” Clementine says. “Enjoy watching hockey, I mean. I don’t know if that would be the same if I wasn’t so closely connected with the sport personally, but I do enjoy it. It’s more comforting now than anything.”

“I still remember the day Nico got drafted,” Nina says wistfully. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”

“And I remember everyone here staying up to watch it,” Anika adds. “There were people piling into the streets after in celebration.”

Clementine grins. “Yeah, I get that. I still remember Quinn, Jack and Luke’s draft days. It’s an extremely weird moment. Like, it’s wonderful of course, but also strange?”

“That makes sense,” Nina says. “It’s really cool to see how things have turned out since then, but it’s an interesting moment for sure. Especially when you remember Nico, or in your case, Quinn, Jack and Luke, as little boys just being little boys.”

“Nico’s really happy with you, I can tell,” Anika says. “And I don’t just say that to say that. His smile looks lighter. Freer.”

“I think that just might be because he’s home.”

“It’s because of you,” Nina says in a tone that leaves room for no argument. 

When she slips into her pink dress and puts the bracelets on her wrist as they’re about to head out, it hits her what’s really about to happen. She’s about to see her favorite artist. She still remembers being gifted a CD of Taylor’s debut album from her father, Teardrops On My Guitar on repeat. After the Eras Tour sold out in seconds and the resale tickets were way too high, she lost hope on ever seeing Taylor on tour, at least this go-around. 

She walks down the stairs and the first thing she sees is Nico. Dressed up in a light pink button up with khaki shorts, a backwards hat placed on his head, laughter etched in the lines on his face as he converses with his friends and siblings in his native language, she swallows. He looks up as she reaches the last step and his smile turns softer. Nina’s previous words echo her mind as she easily presses against his side. 

Clementine wrinkles her nose as she looks up at him. “You really do love your hats.”

“You don’t?”

“They’re fine. I just like your hair more.” Without argument, he takes his hat off and tosses it on a nearby couch. She gives him a look but he just kisses the top of her head. 

The closer they reach Letzigrund, a football stadium, Luca had said, she marvels at how large it is. She’s been to large concerts before, but as they park and make their way through the gates, she’s taken aback. Nico gently tugs their hands so she doesn’t get lost in the ground as they go find their seats. Turns out Nico pulling a few strings means tickets on the floor, not too close to the action where they would get pushed but at a vantage point where they’re in the center and can see everything. She turns to look at him bewildered and he just shrugs, a wry smile playing at his lips.

She pokes him. “Best birthday present ever.”

He takes a sip of his beer casually. “I’m glad. You know I prepared for this.”

“How?”

“I’ve been listening to Taylor Swift non-stop the last month.”

“I know we haven’t been dating for a long time, but all I do is play Taylor Swift.”

“True. But I didn’t realize how many songs she actually has. And you’re probably gonna know all of them.”

“Probably,” she admits. She’s definitely the biggest fan among the group right along with Anika. “But you don’t have to know all of them to have a good time.”

“I know. I heard she puts on a good show.” They watch Yannis, one of their friends, exchange bracelets with a stranger before Nico nudges her lightly. “I’m also just, I don’t know, excited because you’re excited.”

She snorts. “You’re a sap.”

What she wants to say, really, is “I love you.” But she refrains. 

Throughout the whole concert — which in itself is a highlight of her life and something she won’t ever forget — Clementine wants to tell him she loves him. When Taylor appears in her colorful, sparkly bodysuit and sings ‘Lover’ while Nico’s arms find their way around her waist as he’s standing behind her swaying them lightly, she wants to tell him. When she, Nina and Anika loop their arms around each other screaming ‘You Belong With Me’ and he simply points his phone at them with a laugh, she wants to tell him. Right before the bridge of ‘Champagne Problems,’ when he whispers a soft “wow,” eyes glued on Taylor on stage as she sings one of Clementine’s favorite songs of hers, she wants to tell him. When he quickly leaves and comes back in the middle of ‘Delicate’ with a beer for her and a water for them to share, she wants to tell him. 

When ‘Long Live’ comes on and she sees his eyes light up in recognition, before he pulls his phone out to record the end — her favorite part and the fact that he knows that is something in itself  — she wants to tell him. When he and the boys scream ‘22’ so incredibly out of tune and she can’t stop laughing, she wants to tell him. When she fully loses her voice screaming out ‘Illicit Affairs’ and he can’t hide his grimace at his eardrums bursting, she wants to tell him. As they both watch Anika practically collapse when the opening notes of ‘Style’ ring out — she had come into the concert blind to the setlist somehow — and Clementine can’t help but shake her hips while singing along, she wants to tell him. 

When he presses a kiss on her temple multiple times during the surprise songs as she is tearing up, she wants to tell him. When Taylor closes out the show with ‘Karma’ and Nico is visibly in awe of all the colors, fireworks, confetti and overall grand finale, she wants to tell him. 

She leans into his side as they walk to their cars. She loves him. They bid farewell to everyone. She loves him. When they get back to their place, they decide to rinse off the sweat and grime together and he gently rubs massages shampoo into her hair. She loves him. 

As Nico falls fast asleep next to her, arm wrapped securely around her waist, she’s about to lock her phone when she sees that she has a few text messages. They’re from Nina, who has already speedily downloaded the pictures she took on her digital camera from tonight. She thumbs through them quickly, smiling at all of them. 

She stops at one of her and Nico taken before the show in front of the stage. They’re both not looking at the camera but at each other. She’s in the middle of talking — about what, she can’t remember — as Nico is just smiling at her. 

She looks down at the sleeping man next to her. She loves him so fucking much. 

…..

(She does end up telling Nico that she loves him a few days later, as they’re weaving through a farmer’s market in Lucerne, him carrying the bags filled with fresh vegetables and other groceries that they’re using to make dinner tonight.  She thinks he doesn't hear her at first, but he tugs them towards the side and drops the bags so he can cup her face in his hands and kiss her. 

“You love me?” He murmurs. 

“Yeah,” she whispers. “I-I know it’s soon and you don’t have to say it back-”

He shakes his head with a grin, “Shut up.” He kisses her again. “I love you, Schatz.”

“Really?” She swallows. “You’re not just saying that?”

“I love you,” he repeats firmly. “I adore you, if we’re gonna be honest. You’re getting really close to be one of the best things that Jersey has brought me.”

“Well, now you’re just being stupid. How about, oh I don’t know, your entire career?”

He picks up their bags again, tossing an arm over her shoulder. “One of the best. Love you.”

She lets out a happy sigh, momentarily leaning her head on his shoulder as the sun hits their skin)

…..

The Switzerland tour is wrapped up in the best way, in Nico’s hometown of Naters, right by the mountains. Seriously, how is one country allowed to be this beautiful? She gets to hear the stories that litter these streets, the memories associated with the air interlacing with the wind, from a man who she loves and loves her. She tries not to think about how this is the last moments they’ll have until he comes back to New Jersey in September. 

The night before she takes off, they go out to dinner at a fancy enough place that Clementine’s pulling out one of her more formal dresses. The candlelight illuminates Nico reverently, his brown eyes not tearing away from her for more than 15 seconds the whole night. The attention would be overwhelming, but Clementine just lets herself sink into it. 

This feeling of being loved like this? It’s new. And she’s fully aware that it’s fragile and it could crumble any minute. But not right now. Not with Nico looking at her like she’s the only person in the room. 

When he drops her off at Zurich airport the next day, she hugs him for a full minute. She doesn’t cry, but there’s a pull at her heart that plants the silly idea of staying here forever just so that she doesn’t have to leave him. But she pulls away, kisses him one more time, runs a hand through his hair, before grabbing her things and walking through the automatic doors. 

…..

Clementine’s about to take a shower when she hears a key click into place. Seconds later, she’s sandwiched between Jack and Luke, uncontrollably laughing. She’s missed them dearly. 

Luke smacks a kiss on her cheek. Jack ruffles her hair. She scolds them about leaving their bags in the front door where anyone could trip on them. 

They’re back for another season, albeit a bit early to spend their last few summer days in the city. Nico lands tomorrow. Her Google Calendar has been synched with the Devils and Canucks game schedules.

Suddenly, the heat wave that’s hit New York / New Jersey doesn’t feel so constricting anymore.

…..

She might’ve had to bribe Ben to switch shifts with her, but there was no way she was gonna miss the home opener. Even if she’s extremely tired.

Clementine somehow makes it home before Jack and Luke are due to be at the rink earlier than normal for the carpet and other things. They’re both dressed and ready to head out. It’s a reminder that if Clementine sits on her couch for even 5 minutes, she will fall asleep. So she shouldn’t do that. 

Not even a minute after she shut the front door, there’s a knock. Jack calls out that it’s open and Nico walks in. 

If this were a few months ago, Clementine would blame just getting back from a long day of work for her eyes literally popping open. But it’s not, and she calls the man who walked through the door her boyfriend. Yet here she is, in her scrubs with her messy ponytail and smelling of hospital, just staring.

Holy. Shit. Nico looks hot. Which, like, yeah, he always does. Clementine is well aware that her boyfriend is a very attractive man. But something about the new green three piece suit that she had helped him pick out over FaceTime when he was still in Switzerland and his hair and the overall look has her literally speechless. 

Luke, like the bitch he is, takes note and just laughs. “Cat got your tongue, Clemmy?”

She finds her voice. “Fuck off.” 

Nico just smirks as he hugs Jack and Luke before walking over to give her a peck, “Hi.”

“Absolutely not,” she backs away when Nico reaches for a hug. He pouts but she shakes her head. “I just worked for 12 hours in a hospital. You do not want to hug me.” 

“Of course I want to hug you. I love you.” 

Somewhere behind them, she hears a gag. Gags, actually. She sticks out her middle finger behind her back before leaning in to give him another kiss. “I’ll hug you after the game when I’m clean.” He ignores her and just smothers her in a hug as she squeals. He presses exaggerated kisses all over her face as she tries to slither out of his hold. “Stop!” She breathes out in between laughs. “I’m literally so gross.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Can you two not?” Luke deadpans. 

The couple both roll their eyes. “This is nothing,” Clementine retorts. 

“I know, which makes it worse.”

Jack snorts as he grabs his water bottle and keys. “You two ready to go? We’re cutting it close.”

“Yeah,” Nico tosses Jack his eyes. “You guys go down first. I’ll be a second.”

Jack looks between his captain and sister with a subtle glare. “Five minutes.”

“We are older than you,” Clementine retorts. Jack rolls his eyes before exaggeratedly blowing a kiss to Clementine. She scoffs but blows him and Luke a kiss as they walk out the front door. “They’re annoying.”

Nico chuckles, before brushing a stray piece of her hair behind her ear. “How was your day?”

“Fucking brilliant,” she deadpans. “You can’t tell by my messy hair and eye bags?”

His eyebrows furrow. “If you’re too tired to come to the game, you don’t-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence. I’m not missing the home opener. Are you insane? I’ll be good after a shower and a beer or two.” She places her hands and gently straightens his jacket into place. “You look incredibly hot.”

“Yeah?”

She kisses the smirk off his face. “Oh please. Like you don’t know.”

“It’s a good ego boost hearing that from the person’s opinion I care about the most.”

She gently brushes her hand through his hair. “I’m a very lucky woman.”

“I’m the lucky one,” he presses one last kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you after?”

She tilts her head to the side and pouts a bit. “Thought I was going home with you after no matter what, Captain.”

Nico’s eyes darken the slightest bit. Bingo. “Careful, baby.”

Clementine shrugs nonchalantly. “Have fun. Maybe score a goal or two for me?”

“What do I get if I do?”

“Careful, baby,” she echoes with a smirk. “You should head out before Jack and Luke storm back in here. And you know they will.”

He groans. “You ruined the moment.”

She chuckles, gently shoving him back. “Good luck. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

…..

It’s not like anything is wrong, perse. 

Clementine doesn’t often get into her overthinking moods. Frankly, she doesn’t have time for it. Since she was 18, it was study hard, let herself be dragged out once in awhile by her friends away from the books, listen to her own gut when it told her she actually needed a break, feel herself falling more in love with medicine and patients and caring for them, rinse and repeat. She’s 27 now, and the contours of that thinking have adjusted to whatever moment she’s in, but her core is still the same. 

But when she finds herself in these overthinking moods, it consumes her. Her mom once told her it causes her to think irrationally, and Clementine had snapped back, even though deep down, she knew it was true. 

These overthinking moods could be about anything, and have been about anything. From grades, to the overwhelming ache of missing her father, to questioning if the path she’s worked so hard for is worth it, to questioning if going to California for eight years and away from everyone was the best choice or just the convenient excuse she could use when in reality, she was running from her problems. From watching Quinn, Jack and Luke from right next to them but also from so, so far away, to making sure her mother still enjoys and loves life even though it’s been almost ten years since she lost her partner, to her own self worth and if she’s as good of a person that everyone always tells her she is and how that can be true if sometimes she feels like she’s grasping at straws. 

The point is, Clementine knows herself well enough to know when one of these moods is coming. 

It hits her full force on her commute the way to the hospital, because of course it does. Last night had been really fun with the season home opener. She sat with all the significant others for the first time and the vibe was high. When Nico had scored, the girls had all cheered and pointed to her as she finished off a beer. Some of the fans had given her high fives and maybe had caught on, she thinks, especially because she was wearing a 13 jersey and Nico had pointed in her direction after he scored. But Devils fans are also just really nice, so it also could’ve been nothing. 

She already had a lot of the other women’s phone numbers from last year’s Friendsgiving, but she was officially added into the group chat because she’s not just Jack and Luke’s pseudo-sister who lives with them anymore. She’s also the captain’s girlfriend. 

Something about that has her mind racing this morning as she watches the streets of New York City at 7:29 a.m. outside the bus window. Now she’s thinking about whether she should be doing more because of that title. In the grand scheme of things, her and Nico haven’t been dating for that long. Realistically, she knows no one is expecting her to do anything more. She venmoed Nicole immediately yesterday when she had casually mentioned the money pool all the significant others have for various things like events, gifts and other things. But should Clementine be the one spearheading that because her boyfriend’s the captain? She just got here. She has no fucking idea.

She always thought being surrounded by hockey her whole life would help her in most of these situations. Not this one. 

When the time comes — if the time comes and her and Nico even last as long as she wants to — and off-season comes back around, is he gonna expect her to spend it in Switzerland with him? Obviously, that didn’t happen this summer because they had literally just started dating, but what about the future? She wouldn’t ever ask him to move his training closer to her, but how would off-seasons work in different countries when the regular season is already crazy enough?  She knows All-Star breaks and off-season vacations are a thing, but with her inflexible work schedule, how is all that going to work? Will he be upset that she probably won’t be able to join him? What if, somehow, Nico is traded to another team? Clementine’s home for the next four years is going to be New Jersey / New York. And then, vice versa, what happens if her future leads her to yet another part of the country?

Yeah, she’s majorly overthinking now. 

Usually, she would talk to someone about it, but in a rare instance, her mind comes up blank. Her mom and Ellen would just tell her to slow down and that she’s being silly. Emilia and her other friends at the hospital would listen, but wouldn't really get it. The other significant others are nice, but she doesn’t feel particularly close enough with any of them yet to voice her intrusive thoughts. No way is she talking to Quinn, Jack or Luke about this. 

That would leave Nico. But there’s something about that that feels off too. 

She’s also been told multiple times that she can’t keep things to herself. And she really does think she’s gotten better at it throughout the years. But old habits die hard. So she also does something she’s really good at. Putting it all away the second she walks into the hospital 

The next time she thinks about it is during a quick break she has inbetween patients, when she checks her phone and sees the notifications from the significant other group chat. Nothing important as she thumbs through quickly, but it still leaves her with a weird feeling in her stomach. 

And again, she wills those thoughts to go away as she steps back out into the hallway. 

The next few days, Clementine doesn’t see Nico much. She’s at the hospital and he’s busy with the new season starting and getting back into the swing of things, making sure his team is doing well on and off the ice and making sure new guys are acclimating. It’s nothing out of the ordinary — it’s not like she’s seeing Jack and Luke that much either while living with them. But she also knows deep down that it’s more than that. 

A week and a half after the season opener, Nico texts her to see if she wants to come over to his after her shift and they can make dinner together. Despite whatever weird things she’s thinking, she says yes. It hits her like a brick that they haven’t seen each other since Nico kissed her goodnight after the season opener.

She can tell something is on his mind immediately, or maybe that he knows something is on her mind, but they both don’t mention it the whole night. Instead, they loosely follow a steak dinner recipe Nico found online and keep the topics light. 

But she can’t help but feel like something is off the whole night. Clementine knows she should ask him. Talk to him about it. 

She doesn’t. 

Her stomach remains in weird knots for the next few days when she lets herself think even for a second about her boyfriend, who’s supposed to be the person she can talk to these things about, right? Clementine’s a bit out of practice — it’s been over three years since she’s had anything sembling a relationship — but goddamn, she doesn’t think this is normal. 

But she doesn’t want to burden Nico. He’s already overwhelmed enough with everything on his plate. She can see the wheels constantly turning in his mind. She doesn’t want to add onto that. 

So, Clementine avoids. 

…..

More patients. More long hours. The Devils first road trip. She should’ve known the people she lives with would pick up on something sooner than later.

“Are you and Schao fighting?”

Clementine has no idea where that nickname came from and has never asked. Hockey players are weird creatures, the nicknames they give their teammates included. 

She keeps her head down, putting the chicken pot pies in the oven. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I asked if he wanted to come by for dinner and he made some shitty excuse about calling his family or something.”

“Calling family is not a shitty excuse,” Clementine says automatically. Her back is towards them, but she knows Luke always beelines directly towards the bathroom to rinse off right after practice. So Jack’s the one who’s dropping their bags loudly on the floor. “Bags against the wall, Jacky.”

He grumbles and Clementine smirks to herself in satisfaction as she hears Jack move the bags. “So? Trouble in paradise?”

“None of your business.”

“Dude.”

“I mean it. None of your business.”

She doesn’t exactly snap — somehow, Quinn, Jack and Luke have never annoyed her enough to make her want to — but it’s something close to it. Silence, and then she hears Jack rounding the kitchen island. He tugs at her arm. “Do I need to beat him up? I know he’s my captain or whatever, but I will.”

“Absolutely not.” She finally makes eye contact with him and is taken aback at how serious Jack looks. “I’m not fucking with your team chemistry.”

“Who cares about team chemistry?” Jack asks, watching as she stirs the glazed carrots. “You’re my sister. So I’ll ask again. Do I need to whoop his ass?”

She sighs, leaning her hip against the counter. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shrugs. “There’s nothing much to it. Just a bump in the road, I guess.”

“About?” Jack presses lightly. 

Clementine bites her lip. One part of her is telling her that she shouldn’t talk to Jack — or Luke — about her relationship troubles simply due to the fact that Nico’s their captain and friend and teammate and rock and all of that. But the other part of her does want to finally talk to someone. “I think we’re trying to figure out how to be together with both our busy schedules and it’s…tougher than we anticipated.”

Jack hums, “I see.”

Despite herself, Clementine snorts. “I’m not getting relationship advice from my younger brother. I’m not stooping that low.”

“Lame,” Jack shoots back. “Your loss. I think I could give you some decent Nico advice. I’ve known him much longer than you have, you know.”

He does have a point. She watches him blow a piece of hair out of his face in thought. Then, Luke walks in with his damp hair. 

“What are you guys talking about?” Luke asks. 

“Nothing.”

“Nico.” She glares at Jack, who just shrugs with a smirk. 

Luke sits down across from her. “Oh wonderful. We’re talking about how miserable he’s been lately?”

Clementine busies herself by pouring him out a glass of water. “Nico’s been miserable?”

“Uh, yeah.” Luke says in a know-it-all voice that has her wanting to smack him on the head. “Besides, like, maybe a few smiles on the ice after a good play or game or whatever, he’s just had those sad eyes.”

Ah, yes. Those sad eyes. Clementine’s acquainted herself with those, even last season when they weren’t together. They come out after every loss. They’ve never come because of her. 

She shrugs, trying to be casual about it. She can feel Jack’s eyes narrowing and knows that his brain is moving. People don’t give Jack enough credit for how perceptive he can be. He tugs at her sleeve again, and Clementine sighs, lowering the flame so she can give him his full attention. 

“Do I need to talk to him?” Jack asks softly. “I don’t like seeing either of you sad.”

“Wait, hold on,” Luke interrupts. “You can’t talk to him if you don’t know what’s going on, Jacky.”

“No one is talking to anyone,” she says. “We just haven’t been able to see each other much lately. Or don’t want to. I don’t know.” 

“Clee.” Jack says flatly. 

She finally cracks, swallowing. “Obviously, I know what a season looks like. I mean, fuck, I lived with you two last year and I literally grew up with hockey all around me. I know it’s busy and I know he’s even busier because he’s captain or whatever. But shit, sometimes it feels like…I don’t know.”

“It feels like what?” Jack presses. 

She puts her head in her hands for a few moments before looking back up, squeezing her eyes together to keep the frustrated tears at bay. “Sometimes it feels like he doesn’t even want to be around me. Like we’re strangers or just friends or whatever”

“What?” Luke deadpans. “Clemmy, that’s…what?”

Jack throws his brother a dirty look. “Let her finish.”

“And it’s on me too,” she continues as if they hadn’t interrupted. “Like, yeah, he’s busy, but so am I. And I’ve been taking extra shifts and staying at the hospital to study longer because things are getting harder but, I don’t know. I guess now that we’re actually in the season it’s a whole other thing. I know I’m being unreasonable. Maybe I’m just not cut out for a relationship or whatever.”

She knows the last sentence is an intrusive thought. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t have some semblance of meaning.

“That’s stupid,” Jack says. Clementine looks up from the table to look at him sadly. He has a look of fire in his eyes. “The last part, I mean. Not cut out for a relationship? What does that even mean?”

“If that’s not it, what is?” She huffs out. “I just feel like, I’m losing him? Assuming that I had him in the first place, I guess.”

“Clementine,” Luke starts. He never calls her by her government name. “What are you talking about? That boy is head over heels for you. You’ve had him since the moment you two met, I’m pretty sure.”

“Have you guys talked about this?” Jack asks. “Like, actually sat down and talked about how you’re feeling and why you’re upset.”

“How can we talk when I don’t even know why I’m upset?”

“It doesn't need to be, like, extremely coherent. Even if it doesn’t come out pretty or whatever, at least he’d know and stop making assumptions. And as someone who knows Nico, he’s definitely doing that, but probably not talking to you about it because he thinks he’ll just burden you with it.”

Clementine groans. “That’s the crux of it, I think. We’re not talking about the things that matter. We should be able to do that. Because I also think I’m burdening him with my unnecessary problems.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Luke starts. “Cap’s miserable and you’re miserable because you’re not…talking to each other?”

“Well, when you put it like that, I sound like a dumbass.” She picks at her nails. “It’s also more than that. A lot of factors involved.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Jack promises. 

Clementine glares at him. “No. Stay out of it, Jacky. You too, Luke. I’m not putting you guys in the middle of our shit when you have to play with him.”

“I’m not gonna say anything bad,” Jack says. “You said that you feel like he doesn’t wanna talk to you, right? Which I know is a load of bullshit. He, again, probably just thinks he’s bothering you with his shit because that’s how Nico operates. He’s a great captain and will listen to anyone else’s problems, but thinks that no one wants to hear his, which, like you said, is stupid, especially when it comes down to you two. I’ll talk to him, Clee. Give him a little push. And then you two need to talk.”

She turns towards Luke — since when does she trust Luke enough to determine a good idea from a bad one? — who shrugs. “It wouldn’t hurt,” Luke says. “Jack has a way of getting through to Nico like no one else can.”

“Yeah, but that’s on ice stuff. This is off-ice stuff. And something that doesn't involve you guys.”

Jack lets out a little noise at that. “Hate to say it, but the second you guys started dating, we were already involved.”

She sighs. Because he’s right. Again. “I love him,” she says. 

“I know. And he loves you too. No one’s doubting that,” Jack says. The oven beeps and before she can move, Luke rushes to gather the pies. “I won’t overstep, I promise.” 

They let the topic go for the rest of dinner. 

…..

Clementine doesn’t even get the chance to fully swing open the door the next afternoon before Nico’s pulling her into a tight hug. She freezes for a few seconds before melting into his embrace, rubbing her thumbs against the back of his neck as he rests his head on her shoulder. He mumbles something and she asks him to repeat it. 

He straightens up, hands still wrapped around her and clears his throat. “I always want to be around you.”

She blinks, before sighing in realization. “Whatever Jack said, it’s-”

“It’s not about what he said,” Nico says, closing the door behind him. “Not entirely. He just…lit a fire up my ass a bit.”

“A bit too bluntly and with so little tact that would seem rude if it wasn’t coming from Jack?”

Nico snickers. “Yeah.” He calms down and looks at her seriously. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she responds automatically.

“No, I mean,” he pauses and swallows. Clementine knows his wheels are turning. Even after being in North America for almost a decade, sometimes his English fails him and it takes a few moments for him to formulate what he wants to say. “I love you. I always want to be around you. I want to hear about your days at the hospital and I want to kiss you after every win and to hug you after every loss. But most importantly, I want to hear about your thoughts and feelings about everything, and that includes us. I’m sorry that you haven’t felt comfortable to do that lately.”

Her heart lurches and she places her hands on his cheeks. She can’t take the sad, watery eyes. “Hey. Hey. It’s okay. It’s alright. It’s on me too.”

He vehemently shakes his head, his hands reaching to wrap around her wrists. “No, it’s not. I-I’m the one with- you’ve given me so much control, with the season and everything, when you’re just as busy. Probably even busier than me. Shit, you’re literally a doctor. That’s nothing compared to what I do.” 

“Nico-“ 

“I know I need to work on communicating and letting people in. It’s been an issue my whole life. Just ask Nina. I, you know, the team is wonderful and supportive, but I still feel the need to not let them know too much about my struggles, you know? Because I’m supposed to be the leader. But you’re not part of the team. Not in that way. You’re my girlfriend. My best friend. And I need to work on talking things through with you instead of my instinct of shutting down or dealing with it myself.” 

Clementine blinks, taking it in. She’s always known Nico to be self aware, but this is a whole new level. 

He kisses her gently, before pressing his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry. I’ll be better. That’s a promise. You can come to me with anything, even if you don’t think it’ll be something I want to hear. You can trust me. Rely on me. I’ll prove it to you everyday.”

“You don’t need to prove anything to me,” she says, rubbing his cheekbones with her thumbs. “Just…please talk to me? And I also need to work on doing that with you. I know we’re both busy and have our own separate lives-”

“You are a part of my life,” Nico assures. “A huge part. Like yeah, it’s separate with the fact that you have the hospital and your people there and I have hockey and the people there, but not really. We’re a team, right?”

She smiles at him repeating her words back to her face. She had said that once in their phone calls over the summer where she started rambling about how she’s always seen romantic relationships as more than just sweeping each other off their feet. ‘If the two people aren’t on the same team, then what’s the point? Then it’s just two people with a whole lot of feelings who never truly see each other eye to eye’ she had said. 

“Yeah. We’re a team. Since we’re a team, can I propose something?”

“Anything,” Nico rushes out. And it’s so nice to know for sure that he means it. 

“Can we try to do one night a week? Just for us? Unless you’re on a road trip or I have a weird shift schedule for some reason. Obviously, more would be great, but one at the bare minimum?”

Nico hums. “One guaranteed date night with you every week? I think I can manage.”

“You think?” she pokes his side. 

“It’s perfect,” he says with pure sincerity. “You’re perfect.”

She rolls her eyes. “Far from it.”

“False,” he beams, sneaking another kiss. Clementine’s heart feels the lightest it’s felt in weeks. “I can’t believe Jack was right.”

She snorts. “About? Jack’s never right.”

“I know,” he rolls his eyes, before looking at her in a way that makes butterflies flutter in her stomach. “But he was right this time.”

Oh. They’re not talking about the fight anymore. 

…..

(Clementine finally tells Nico everything that day about the overthinking — the tendencies and the topics she was overthinking about this time. He’s rubbing her knee as she talks about how she feels like she has to be setting an example or something because she’s dating him. She knows he wants to interrupt and assure her. She appreciates that he waits until she finishes. 

He reassures her, which is nice, but he realizes that that’s not necessarily what she needs. Clementine just needs someone to listen. And Nico thinks everything she says is always worth listening to. 

But Clementine also likes to be proactive and have tangible next steps, something she and him have in common. So they both come up with the first step: Clementine sends a text to Kristen Haula, who has a lot of experience of just … being the significant other to a professional athlete. Kristen responds quickly and kindly, asking when Clementine has a day off from work where she can come over and they can chat. 

It’s always a breath of relief knowing people want to help with problems that she thinks are stupid. Because they’re usually not stupid. Nico’s there to assure her of that. 

She goes to sleep that night with a smile.)

…..

That conversation is just the start. Because you can say all you want in a relationship, say you need to improve things, but until things are actually done, it doesn’t mean squat. 

She can tell there’s something on Nico’s mind, even in the short phone call as he’s heading to the rink before a game and she’s heading home from the hospital. Clementine asks multiple times if he’s sure he’s okay and he tells her he’s fine, so she lets it go, wishing him good luck and assuring him she’ll be watching. 

The Devils lose 5-1 to Vegas, and it’s so tough to watch that she almost wants to turn it off before it ends, especially after the camera pans to Nico’s face and Jack breaking his stick on the boards in frustration after the final buzzer sounds. A four game losing streak. 

After giving Jack and Luke extra long hugs, Luke burying his face into her shoulder and Jack clutching her t-shirt, she calls Nico as she’s climbing into bed.

“Hey baby.”

“Hi.”

“Don’t beat yourself up too much, okay? Are you back at your place?”

“Yeah. What are you doing awake?”

She swallows at his blunt tone. “I wanted to catch you afterwards.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Get some sleep.”

“Oh. Okay. Are you sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

A rustle on his end. “I’m sure.”

“Want me to come by tomorrow morning? I don’t have to head in until the afternoon.”

Silence. “Yeah?” The raspy voice he’s gotten from yelling during the game momentarily makes her smile because she’s always found it so attractive. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“Okay,” she thinks his voice softens. “Yeah. I’d love that.”

“Great. Goodnight, then. I’ll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams. I love you.”

“Goodnight, Schätzli. I love you.”

The next morning, she punches in Nico’s code and walks in to him pouring out a cup of coffee for her. He’s dressed in his typical day off attire: a random t-shirt that she thinks looks unfairly good on him, gray sweatpants and his hair is all messed up. She paddles over to the kitchen.

From behind, she wraps her arms around his waist. “Hi baby.”

“Hey,” he turns in her arms to peck her lips. “You eat yet?” He asks. 

“Mmhmm.”

He hums, following her to the couch and sinking down right next to her. He tucks himself into the blanket with an involuntary hum, burying himself into the pillow, dragging her down so that she’s laying on his chest. She breathes in his scent and automatically smiles. She feels him physically relax. 

“How’s the hospital been?”

Clementine shrugs. “The usual.”

“Tell me more.”

She blinks. Oh, she realizes. And she then talks about random details of her week that don’t actually matter but she’s figured out that sometimes he just likes to listen to her voice. Whether to ground himself, get himself out of his own head or both. He hums in all the right places to show he’s listening, but she also doesn’t really need him to listen about the workplace drama of people having a theory that two of her coworkers are hooking up. 

There’s a lull in the conversation as she listens to his heartbeat. She thinks he might have fallen asleep. She doesn’t dare move to check.

“Eight.”

So he’s not asleep. She taps her fingers on his chest. “Hm?”r

“This is my eighth season in the league. Eighth in Jersey. And I have nothing to show for it.” She swallows. She debates sitting up so she can see him, but she stays still. He sighs. “I feel like we’re just never going to have a good start to the season, and it’s just like this every year and I’m not doing anything right. I can’t shoot. I can’t score. I can’t lead this team.” 

“Nico-“ 

“At this point, if we’re not the team that’s gonna get Jersey to the cup, then who is? It’s always been about potential and things falling into place and sometimes I feel like all of it has and then we end up falling short anyways.” He starts breathing faster and Clementine sits up, holding his hands. She can see the storm in his eyes. “Fuck, I’m the captain. Part of my job is to make sure this doesn’t happen and that when we gain momentum, that we don’t lose it. But it feels like we can’t even gain that momentum so we’re stuck in whatever the hell we’re stuck in. It’s starting to remind me of my first few seasons here, which really fucking sucks and just shouldn’t be where we’re at. Are the pieces ever going to come together like everyone has been saying it will?”

(In the back of her mind, Clementine’s stomach drops because Nico rarely swears, and he just dropped two f bombs in the last 15 seconds)

She squeezes his hands. “Nico. Please listen to me when I say this. It is not all on you. Captain or not, no one is expecting you to carry all of that on your shoulders.” He opens his mouth to counter but she’s quicker. “Nope. I don’t want to hear it. If I’ve learned anything from growing up with three hockey-playing brothers, is that hockey is a team sport. You win together. You lose together. Everything you go through? You go through together.”

“But I feel like I’m not doing anything right.”

“If any single one of your teammates heard you right now, I know they’d smack you in the face.” Clementine says bluntly. “Even before we were dating, from day one of training camp in Jack’s rookie year, when you didn’t even have the C yet, he was already raving to me about how good of a role model you were. You didn’t just get that C just because, Nico. You were and are the best option. I fully believe it. Your teammates respect you so much, baby. I see it with my own eyes every game. And they love and respect you enough to know that this is not all on you. You lead your team so beautifully. It is your team. And fuck the media and what they’re saying. Half of them can’t even hold a stick in their hand or skate. Literally who cares what they think? The outside noise is all bullshit anyways.” She rubs his cheekbones with her thumbs. “I know my words can’t fix the slump you guys are in. But I refuse to let you believe that any of this is entirely your fault. It is anything but. I refuse you to let you believe you’re anything but a good leader. You are the best leader. But you need to put less pressure on yourself over things that are out of your control.”

She lets her words wash over him, as he nods. One of her favorite things about him is that he’s always so expressive, especially in the domestic environment of his apartment under the maroon blanket she knitted him for Christmas. Here he is, not under any arena lights, just in his home away from home, trying to find some grounding. She places a kiss on his forehead and he practically falls into her touch.

“Everything about you always helps,” Nico whispers. “Thank you.”

“No need,” she smiles as his cheek rests on her stomach, arms wrapped around her waist in a tight embrace. “It’s okay to be frustrated and upset, honey. I get it. But you’re gonna drive yourself insane if you keep holding all this weight on your shoulders. Share it with others. Share it with your teammates. Share it with me. It’s what we’re here for.” Nico mutters something in German and she snorts. “English, please.”

“I don’t want to share it with you if it means I’m gonna explode and scare you. That’s the last thing I want to do.”

Clementine blinks, digesting that statement. She picks her words carefully. “It’s more than okay to show emotions. Any psychologist would tell you it’s healthy to do so. The fact that you’re afraid at the idea of scaring me is probably a good indicator that you won’t. And please. Give me some credit. I don’t get scared easily.” She leans down to press a kiss in his hair. “I mean it. Share the burdens, baby. We all want to help.” 

He hums and she lets him play with her fingers before she has to go to work. 

…..

There were cons to not living near the boys for eight years — missing big moments and not having their presence around all the time being the two biggest ones. 

But there were pros too. Such as, not being a part of moments that she would rather be anywhere else for. She doesn’t know who gave the three boys the sex talk (it probably was Quinn, but who gave it to him?) and she knows that if she had been in Toronto or Michigan during that time, she would’ve begrudgingly done it and hated every second. 

If she thinks about it too much, it’s kinda incredible how she hasn’t encountered this particular situation yet. 

This particular situation being this: Clementine’s just come back from an overnight shift she got let off early from, exhausted to her bones but not exhausted enough to be immobile. On the drive back from the station, she was debating whether to stop by her favorite deli or make her own brunch. She ultimately decided that there are too many things in the fridge to justify her going to the deli. Maybe next week. 

So now here she is, preparing her feta egg bake thing that she saw on TikTok, a mix of vegetables drizzled in olive oil and various herbs sitting on the counter on another tray, ready to go into the oven. She hears the front door open and glaces at the clock on the microwave. Morning skate must’ve been earlier than normal today. 

“Hello?” Luke’s voice calls out. 

“In the kitchen!”

She hears two pairs of footsteps come closer, assuming that Jack is with him. Though if she had stopped to think about it, she would’ve automatically thought it was weird that he didn’t call out a greeting either. She turns around, half smile planted on her face. The half smile doesn’t exactly drop at the sight of the unknown blonde girl next to him. Just turns more confused. Before Clementine can say anything, Luke speaks up. 

“Hey. I didn’t think you’d be home until later.”

“They let me out early,” she searches her mind quickly, trying to see how to ask who the fuck is in their kitchen without sounding like a bitch. 

Luckily, Luke does it for her. He clears his throat. “Uh, Clemmy, this is Ava. Ava, Clemmy. Or, Clementine, I guess.”

Clementine decides to put him out of his misery a bit. She hopes her smile is friendly enough. “Nice to meet you, Ava.”

“Same here. Are you Jack’s girlfriend?”

Before she can stop herself, she snickers. “He fucking wishes.”

“That’s Amelie,” Luke corrects. “Clemmy’s dating Nico, my captain.”

Ava’s eyes widen. “Oh. I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Clementine waves away her apology easily. “A lot of names. A lot of characters. Speaking of, where is Jack?”

“Dropped him off at Amelie’s after practice, actually. She’s totally gonna kill me though. I think she has to head to Philly later.”

“She’s definitely gonna kill you. Have you two eaten yet?” She asks politely. 

Ava nods. “We did. Thank you so much though.”

“Anytime.” Luke makes a move to lead Ava to his room and Clementine immediately gets the hint. “If you change your mind, our fridge is open to all. I live here, which means there should be something edible.”

“Hey!” Luke protests. The two girls laugh. “Thanks though. Are you heading to Cap’s?”

Clementine shrugs. “I was going to eat, nap and maybe head over later, but I also didn’t know your morning skate was earlier than normal. Maybe I’ll go over to his and use him as my pillow.”

“Don’t drive if you’re too tired,” Luke warns, sounding entirely too much like Jack. “Hisch can wait if needed.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She waves her spatula at them. “Alright. I’m off an overnight shift, so you know what that means.”

Luke rolls his eyes as Ava looks between them curiously. “Your social battery is at its lowest and you’ll start snapping soon.” Ava looks amused and Clementine grins. “C’mon, Ava. Let’s go to my room.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Ava says. 

“Likewise,” Clementine responds. The second Luke’s door shuts, she puts the feta egg bake and the vegetables in the oven and immediately grabs her phone, thumbing over to her text chain with Nico. 

Clementine Sandoval 

lol just had a major big sister moment 

She gets a reply in seconds. 

Nico Hischier 

???

A moment you haven’t already experienced?

Clementine Sandoval 

luke just came home with a girl I’ve never met before 

Nico Hischier 

In the day time? Lol

Does Jack know about this? 

Clementine Sandoval 

lol i’m assuming not

i def would’ve heard about it by now 

luke’s not that stupid if he wanted to keep it quiet (which it seems like he does) jack would be the last person he’d tell 

Nico Hischier 

You do realize I’m their captain, right? 

I could very well be with Jack right now. He could be looking over my shoulder

Clementine Sandoval 

please i’m not an amateur 

luke already told me he dumped jack at amelie’s 

what are you doing the rest of the day?

Nico Hischier 

Sitting on my coach and staring at the wall waiting for my beautiful girlfriend to come by after she takes her nap  

Clementine Sandoval 

whipped 

any chance i can come by earlier and nap at yours? didn’t know you guys had an earlier skate 

Nico Hischier 

Door will be unlocked ❤️

Clementine Sandoval

???? your door has a code 

but thanks 🩵🩵 i’ll come by after i eat

After her food is cooked thoroughly, she eats quickly, flicking through emails on her laptop. She can hear a movie playing through Luke’s laptop in his room and murmured voices through the door. As she’s cleaning up and getting ready to head out, she debates on whether she should tell Luke or not. She probably should, because then he’ll start worrying, which is something that she’s noticed all the brothers have done more as they’ve gotten older. 

“Luke!” She calls, “I’m heading out.”

“Okay,” she hears his voice through his door. “Are you coming back for dinner?”

“Not sure yet. I’ll text you.”

“Okay!”

Clementine chuckles before grabbing her stuff and closing the front door behind herself. 

Nico snorts as she’s retelling what happened, sipping on a cup of coffee. Clementine’s rambling to the max, sitting up on his kitchen counter and swinging her legs, not stopping even as Nico slips himself inbetween them and plants his hands on her thighs. 

Suddenly, she trails off with a yawn. He chuckles softly before engulfing her in a hug, kissing her neck softly. “Couch or bed?” 

“You don’t like just lounging on your bed.”

“But it’s your nap time and you like my bed.”

She plays with his hair, placing her cup of coffee down carefully. “Couch.”

“Okay,” he hums, helping her off the counter. “Is there anything I need to wake you up for later?”

“I made some sort of promise a few days ago that I’d cook Jack and Luke dinner, and I feel bad that I haven’t done it yet.”

“They can come over here and we can both cook them something.”

“You have groceries in your fridge?”

He gives her a look as she giggles. He tosses a blanket over her. “Sleep before you start getting sassier on me.”

Clementine hums, eyes already drooping. She tugs at his shirt as he’s about to leave. “Stay.”

“Baby-”

“Just until I fall asleep,” she grins as he climbs in, immediately burying her head into his chest as his arm wraps around her. She hums, eyes already shut. “I love you,” she murmurs against the cotton of his shirt.

She feels the gentlest kiss on her forehead before drifting off to sleep.

…..

Clementine loves being able to switch her brain during a live hockey game. Unless she gets a call from anyone at the hospital — which hasn’t happened yet — any good hockey game can turn her often overtired and overstimulated brain off. 

So when Sarah, one of the staffers she frequently runs into at Devils games, comes up to her row, Clementine’s immediately standing up. “Sarah? What are you doing up here?”

“Can you come with me for a second?” At Clementine’s concerned stare, Sarah continues quickly. “Nothing bad! Just want your help on something medical related.” 

“Medical related?” Clementine stands up and starts following Sarah. 

“One of the kids in the Islanders box hurt herself and I’m pretty sure it’s just a sprained ankle, but you work with kids so I figured you could give another opinion and calm her down, maybe? If you don’t mind, of course.”

Clementine breathes out a sigh of relief. This she can handle. “I don’t mind at all. Jesus, Sarah. I thought it was something more serious.”

Sarah grimaces. “Sorry. Again, I just want a second opinion. I’m sorry to interrupt you watching the-”

“I get it. And hey, I’ve watched dozens of games by now.” They arrive at the visitor’s suite and somehow, Clementine feels immediately at home even though there’s an adorable blonde girl crying on the floor with her mother kneeling down next to her. 

Clementine bends down and sits on the back of her heels. “Hi cutie. My name is Clementine. I’m here to help you, okay?” The mom, who is drop dead gorgeous, mutters some encouraging words to her daughter. “Can you tell me what happened, sweetie?”

Inbetween hiccups, the young girl explains that she was running around because her dad had just scored a goal but had run into a chair and had fallen backwards and now her ankle really hurts and if it’s broken she won’t get to play with her friends at recess. Clementine softly shushes her and calms her down before asking if she can take a look. The young girl nods and Clementine gingerly takes her ankle, rolling up her jeans. She speaks to the girl softly (who Clementine learns is named Winnie), asking about who she’s here to see and the game and anything else to keep her distracted while she does her routine checks. 

Clementine taps her ankle. “Well, good news, Winnie. It’s only swollen, which won’t require going to the hospital. I’m just gonna wrap it up for you and get you some ice to keep on it, okay? And lots of rest, which means no running around for a bit.” She nods thankfully at Sarah, who runs to grab some bandages and an ice pack. 

“Does that mean I get to watch Disney all day tomorrow?” Winnie asks. 

Clementine laughs. “That’s gonna be a decision your mama has to make.” She turns to the gorgeous blonde again with a smile. “Everything’s all fine. Just lots of rest and ice and she’ll be good in no time. You can give her children’s motrin if she complains that it hurts too much, but it shouldn’t if she isn’t moving it around.”

“Thank you so much,” she says gratefully, putting her hand out. “I’m Sydney. It’s nice to meet you. I’m really sorry for interrupting your game.”

Clementine waves her away. “It’s no problem at all. I’ve seen a bunch of these, so I’m not too pressed.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“Not yet technically. I’m in my second year of residency with pediatrics and ER. But I promise I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh, no! I trust you, don’t worry. You have a very calming presence.”

“Well, your daughter is super sweet. So I’m sure you have a lot to do with that.”

Sydney beams. “You’re so sweet! Thank you.” 

“Who are you here for?”

“Number 17. Matt Martin. He’s my husband. How about you?”

Clementine chuckles, as Sarah comes back with the supplies and Clementine wraps the bandage around Winnie’s ankle. “Depends who you ask.”

“Oh?”

“Well, I grew up with Luke and Jack. 43 and 86. But I’m dating Nico. Number 13.”

“That’s the captain, right?”

“It is.” 

Clementine’s surprise must show through her voice because Sydney laughs. “Honestly, I don’t know why I know that. I blame my past journalist self who picks up on details quickly. Or the Devils and Islanders being in the same division.”

“That’s completely fair. I feel like I know too much about hockey for someone who never played.”

“It’s an added layer when we choose who we surround ourselves with, right?” Sydney says and Clementine nods with a smile. “Where are you doing your residency?”

“I’m mainly at NYC Health and Hospitals / Bellevue. First and 28th.”

“Do you live in the city?”

“Oh, no. Though that’s probably smarter, right?” They both laugh. “No, I live with Jack and Luke in Hoboken. They kinda begged, and it saves me money, and I don’t mind the commute.”

Sydney looks around for Winnie, who’s hanging out with one of the other Isles wives and is occupied. “Am I keeping you from someone? Thank you again for all your help.”

“No, not at all! Decided to come out solo tonight.”

Sydney then nods to two empty seats against the glass. “Come sit with me?”

Clementine just smiles and follows her to the seat as Winnie runs at her legs. The two women laugh as Clementine picks her up and sits her on her hip. 

She leaves that night with a new number in her phone. Jack whines about her “befriending the enemy” as Luke cackles. Nico just grins, because he knows what it’s like to be captivated by her energy instantly. 

*****

Clementine’s reading on Nico’s couch when she hears him groan loudly from the kitchen. When she doesn’t hear an explanation, she finishes the sentence and looks up. 

“Everything okay?” 

“No,” he grumbles, walking back in and typing something rapidly on his phone. “The rookies and the young guys went out and got way too drunk and called me by accident. I literally couldn’t understand more than two words of what Shea was saying.” 

“How are they getting home?” 

Nico sighs and picks up his keys. “I’m getting them. I don’t trust them to not puke all over an Uber right now.” 

“But you trust them to not puke in your car?”

“I’ll tell them to aim out the window.” 

Clementine snorts, standing up. “You drank earlier. I’ll drive.” 

Nico blinks. “I didn’t drink that much.” 

“Don’t care. I’m driving. How many of them are there?” 

Nico looks at his phone, presumably his texts, to confirm. “Five. But apparently Luke called Jack so he’s coming too.” Nico laughs, reading another text. “And Amelie. Must be a similar vibe at the Hughes apartment tonight.” 

“It was. Amelie told me they were having a chill date night too.” She quickly goes to Nico’s room to toss on one of his Devils sweatshirts. She comes back out and sticks her hand out as Nico slips on his shoes. “Keys. And grab a few trash bags, please.”  

Nico obeys before they’re both out the door, his hand naturally brushing against her back as they wait for the elevator. “I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“All of this.”

She snorts as the elevators doors shut. “Don’t need to apologize for your teammates acting their age.”

“Yeah, but it’s not your responsibility to deal with that.”

“It’s yours though.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “I’m not following.”

She rises on her tiptoes to kiss him, to which he responds with enthusiasm despite his confusion. “Your boys, my boys, no?” She murmurs against his lips, letting him steal two more kisses. “I’m dating you. You’re the captain of an NHL team. You look out for the guys. Therefore, so do I.”

Nico shakes his head with a fond smile as the elevator doors open and he shuffles them both to the garage, his hands steadily on her hips. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Been told that once or twice in my life,” she dodges his pokes as they walk to the car. 

It only takes them 15 minutes before they’re in front of a bar. Nico pulls in right next to Jack’s car and Clementine laughs as all four of them get out of their cars at the same time. One look at Amelie tells her that she probably was dragged out of bed to come here.

She nods at the younger girl as they trail behind their boyfriends walking into the bar. “Chauffeur?” 

Amelie smiles wryly, handing her a few bottles of water for whoever is coming in Nico’s car. “No. I’m the one who actually opened the wine tonight. But I don’t trust Jack to wrangle these guys by himself. Also, he promised he’d get me lunch from my favorite place tomorrow before I have to drive to Long Island.”

Clementine whistles. “Good girlfriend you are.”

Amelie tosses an arm around Clementine’s shoulders, which makes the latter grin. Amelie had been a bit shyer when they met at the start of the season, but she likes to think she’s cracked the photographer’s exterior a bit. They walk into the bar and just follow the guys, who quickly find their teammates. Clementine only raises an eyebrow as Seamus stumbles to give Nico a hug, almost taking out Simon in the process, who looks like he’s about to either fall asleep or throw up any minute. Jack is subtly steering glasses of alcohol away from Alex as he’s chatting away to Luke. Clementine’s half convinced he’s speaking Swedish and Luke’s too drunk to realize. She scans the bar to find the last straggler and chuckles when she sees Nico (little Nico, she affectionately calls him) come out of the bathroom. He brightens up when he sees the older girl and Clementine laughs loudly as he almost falls into her arms. 

She, Nico, Jack and Amelie corral everyone into the two cars — Luke, Alex and Nico riding with Jack and Amelie and Seamus and Simon with Clementine and Nico, all purely based on proximity. Clementine gives both Amelie and Jack hugs before climbing into the drivers seat. She gives Seamus and Simon each bottles of water as she starts the engine. 

“Drink. The whole thing. Both of you.” She commands. She peeks through the rearview mirror to make sure they do. 

“I’m waiting for the lecture, Mrs. Cap.” Seamus groans out.

Clementine snorts. “No lecture from me. But you guys do remember that you have a team meeting tomorrow, do you?”

“How do you know that?” 

Nico snorts as an answer as Clementine rolls her eyes. “How much did you guys have?”

“I stopped counting after the third round of shots,” Seamus says. Simon might have fallen asleep for all she knows.  

“And who bought that round?” Nico asks. 

“Luke,” Seamus and Clementine say simultaneously. She hears Simon groan, so he’s not asleep. Nico just chuckles. 

It only takes 30 minutes to get them both safely home and to get back to Nico’s apartment. It’s almost 2 a.m. by the time they get back. Clementine gets comfortable fast, with Nico’s body pressed up against hers. The last conscious thought she has before drifting off to sleep is that she wants to do this with him for the rest of her life. 

The first thing she hears when she wakes up is a bunch of male voices. She squints at her phone. 10:27 a.m. Team meeting started at 10. She yawns and rolls out of bed, washing her face and brushing her teeth before deciding to go fix up a quick breakfast for herself before locking herself in Nico’s room so the team can do whatever they do during team meetings. 

The voices all halt as she nears the living room. Any other situation she would be a bit embarrassed perhaps, but frankly, they all know and should’ve expected this. And they’re in her apartment. Or Nico’s. But it also might as well be ours. 

She offers a lazy salute. “Morning boys.” A chorus of greetings echoes and Clementine chuckles. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be out of your hair in a second.”

“You can stay,” Nico says softly with a smile from where he’s standing behind the couch. She just waves him off, pours out a cup of coffee, quickly fixes herself some hummus toast with feta on top and slips back into his room. 

She sets her food down carefully on the bedside table and eats while scrolling through her email and social media. She even puts her headphones in so she’s not tempted to listen to the guys through the wall.

It’s about a half an hour later when she hears a faint knock on the door. She calls out a “come in” and takes out her Airpods with a smile when Nico peeks his head in.

“Hi Schatz.”

“Hey. What’s up?”

“The boys wanna say hi,” she opens her mouth to protest but he beats to her to it. “We’re pretty much done. Pizza’s coming any minute so we’re just chilling out now.”

Clementine grabs her empty plate and mug, rising up to her toes to press a kiss on his cheek. “Breaking the diet?”

“We just won a tough back to back. We deserve it.”

“Sure you do,” she chuckles as he playfully swats her butt. They walk back out into the living room together and she rolls her eyes as everyone cheers. Nico heads back to the living room as she heads into the kitchen to start another pot of coffee, politely nudging Dawson and Dougie out of her way. 

Nico’s apartment is spacious, but twenty plus hockey players all crowding around make it feel much smaller than normal. Clementine decides to swing herself on top of the counter to chat with Luke and John, mostly content with listening to them talk.

When she hears a chorus of laughter, she turns to the living room to see what’s going on to already see quite a few of the guys looking at her. She raises an eyebrow at Nico, who she swears has a slight blush painting his cheeks. But he doesn’t shy away and beams at her instead. With some boldness, she bounces over to him, squeezing in beside him on the couch. He leans into her touch automatically. She wonders if this is a side of their captain his team hasn’t seen much before. 

That last thought has her hesitant for a second, but as if Nico can sense it, he takes her hand off his shoulder and kisses the back of it before going back to a previous conversation with Jesper. Her hand remains in his. She catches Timo’s close-lipped smile and Nate’s visible delight. Clementine just sends them a wink before leaning into Nico’s side. 

Without missing a beat in laughing at something Jesper says, Nico places a kiss in her hair. 

(Later, as the team is starting to filter out of Nico’s apartment, Jonas pulls him aside. Nico is immediately on high alert when Jonas decidedly switches to their native language. They don’t do that often during the season.

“She’s great. Clementine,” Jonas starts.

Nico’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Yeah? You think so?”

“Yeah,” they both look over to the other side of the living room, where she’s in the midst of a playful debate about something with Jack and Jesper. Though from the way she punches Jack in the arm, maybe it’s not so playful. “I know we met at the end of last season, but I wanted to give it some time. She’s weirdly perfect for you.”

“Spit it out, Jonas,” Nico stares at him. 

Jonas just stares back for a bit before letting out a small chuckle. “I’m really happy for you, truly. You deserve someone like her.”

“Like her?”

“Yeah. Someone smart, beautiful and who will be just as all in as you are.” 

Nico looks down at his feet, heat rising up his neck all of a sudden. “She’s the best, really. Kinda keeps me sane without even trying.”

“That’s all you can ask for from a partner,” Jonas pats his shoulder once before calling out a goodbye to everyone. 

Clementine rushes over to give Jonas a quick goodbye hug. Nico feels himself falling and not wanting anyone to catch him.)

…..

The universe is on their side for the 10 year anniversary of Miguel’s death, with the Canucks scheduled to play in town the day after. Ellen, Jim, Quinn, Jack, Amelie, Luke, Maeve, Clementine and Nico all go out to brunch on New Year’s Day, before heading to the cemetery. 

They’re all bundled up as they lay out a few blankets, lay down their flowers and some of Miguel’s favorite food and snacks. The cemetery is quiet, but it’s quickly filled with everyone’s laughter as they share their favorite memories and reminisce. Quite a few tears are shed and the tissue box is passed around often. 

When they’re about to leave, everyone gets their individual moments by his tombstone to pay their last respects. Clementine and Maeve let the Hughes’s go first, hands intertwined with each other. Then, Clementine and Maeve step up and the young woman swallows, her mom’s head falling on her shoulder. With one last squeeze, Maeve steps back and gently ushers Nico to stand next to his girlfriend despite his gentle protests. 

The second she feels Nico’s arm draping across her back, Clementine lets out a sob as she buries part of her face into his jacket. It’s not a sad sob, but it’s not a happy one. She’s happy he’s here with her. She wishes her dad could meet him and love him as much as she knows he would. 

Once they reach the bottom of the hill, Quinn reaches out to squeeze her hand. She keeps her right hand in his as Nico’s pressed against her left side. She stares ahead at her mother pressed between Ellen and Jim with Jack, Amelie and Luke right behind them in a similar embrace.

The birds are chirping. The sound of the wind is made even more noticeable as it whistles through the leaves. The sun is shining, not a single cloud in the sky.

Clementine feels peace settle into her heart.

[sena-seastar]

The Dragon's Gold

Chapter Ten

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Aerys Reyne (male oc)

Summary: Aerys Reyne, son of Naerys Targaryen, the second-born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, has been best friends with Aegon since childhood. As boys, they had been inseparable. Many said that it reminded them of the early days of King Jaehaerys reign. When the princes Aemon and Baelon were still children. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. That was until forbidden desires of the heart forced a wedge between them. After the death of his grandsire, King Viserys, Aerys finds himself torn between two sides: stand by his oldest friend or stand by the only mother he has ever known.

Warning: angst, mentions of Jaehaerys, child loss, grief

a/n: Aerys kinda makes a new friend. Aegon isn't used to people being nice to him. No beta, so I apologize for grammar and spelling mistakes. Also, if anyone wishes to be tagged in future updates, just let me know!

Aerys

The sound of glass shattering on the stone floor woke Aerys, forcing him to sit upright. A thin layer of sweat covered his skin, and his heart hammered away in his chest. His eyes scanned the room for potential dangers. During his search, they fell upon a woman standing beside the bathtub in his chamber. It was the maid—the one in charge of delivering his food.

“I apologize, m’lord,” she bowed her head.

Aerys nodded, watching quietly as she bent down to pick up the shards of what he assumed had once been a flagon. She was a short, large woman with dark eyes, limp brown hair, and an ample bosom. 

“I’ve prepared you a bath,” she said, dropping the shards into a brown bucket, “Though you’ll have to wait for it to cool down a bit.”

Aerys said nothing. He looked down at his hands resting on the soft wool blanket covering his lap. So, he was not going mad. Someone had covered him up. He turned his head upward, looking to the window. It appeared to be late in the afternoon. The events of last night suddenly came back to him. Unconsciously, he reached a hand up to touch his throat. He flinched; the skin of his throat was tender and sore. 

Aerys stood up, letting the blanket fall to the floor. He moved over to the new mirror in the corner of his room. It had to be replaced, as he had shattered the first one after being told of Luke’s death. He lifted his hair out of the way, observing the red marks that covered his throat. The bruising was only in the beginning stages. But if he looked hard enough, he believed he could make out the shape of Aegon’s hands. 

“Should I fetch the maester?” The maid asked timidly.

“No,” he replied, his voice hoarse.

Aerys dropped his hair, letting it cover the red marks as best as it could. He turned around, eyes focusing on the steam rising from the bath. Aerys walked forward, shedding his clothes along the way. The maid released a short gasp and quickly averted her gaze. Aerys paid her no mind, tossing his clothes to the ground. He could smell the fragrant oils that had been placed in the water.

“It’s too hot, m’lord!” The woman warned.

Aerys ignored her words, lowering himself into the scalding hot water. He did not cry out or flinch. He enjoyed the heat against his skin. It made him feel clean, pure. Though he knew he was far from it. Aerys pulled his knees to his chest, watching the steam rise around him. Something had happened, something terrible. However, he did not know what. The look in Aegon’s eyes as he had his hands wrapped around Aerys’ throat haunted him. There was anger and fury, yes, but there was something else, something more. A deep, painful look of despair, of loss. Something that Aerys was not unfamiliar with.

“What has happened?” He asked the maid.

The woman approached slowly, sitting on a stool beside the tub.

“The prince Jaehaerys has been slain,” she answered woefully.

His eyes widened, and water splashed onto the floor as he quickly turned to look at her. He stared into her eyes, desperately searching for some indication of a lie, but there was none. The woman spoke the truth.

“And Jaehaera? Helaena?” Aerys asked hurriedly. Panic filled his chest, and he found it getting increasingly difficult for him to breathe.

“They live.”

A small wave of relief washed over him. Aerys nodded, turning back around. He dropped his head to stare at the water around him. 

“How did it happen?”

“Assassins snuck into the castle. The boy was...,” she paused, her voice cracking, “beheaded in his bed.”

Aerys closed his eyes, swallowing back the bile rising in his throat. Jaehaerys is dead. Aegon’s words rang loudly in his ears. Did you have something to do with this?! Did you know?! They were words spoken in anger- in grief, but they still felt like a knife stabbing at his heart. Surely, Aegon did not believe Aerys would take part in such an egregious act. To strike down an innocent child in their bed was cowardice. It was an act that only the basest of villains would commit. 

“They say it was the Princess Rhaenyra who sent them. In retribution for her son.”

Aerys shook his head. No, he could not—would not believe that Nyra was behind this or that she had even known of it. She was a mother herself, one who had just lost a son. He could not imagine the woman would want to inflict that same pain on anyone, especially Helaena. Nyra had never been close to her siblings, but she held no ill will against them, least of all Helaena. If this was indeed an act of retribution for Luke, why go after Jaehaerys? The boy played no part in what his uncle had done. Aerys doubted the boy even knew of Luke’s existence. It is a lie. It has to be. No, someone else was responsible for this treachery. To butcher a child in their bed like some kind of animal... that was a different kind of brutality. One that Aerys could not even begin to fathom.

Tears fell from his eyes, dripping into the water. The boy's death saddened him, yes, but he worried more for the boy's parents. He worried for the boy’s mother, who would never be able to see or hold her firstborn child again. He worried for the boy’s father, who would seek revenge for the son stolen from him. He worried for the boy’s twin sister, Jaehaera, who would be forced to grow up without her other half at her side. If she even made it to adulthood, that is. War was imminent. Luke and Jaehaerys were the first to die but would not be the last. Many innocents will meet their ends, both low and high-born. 

Aerys flinched as water poured down his back, droplets trickling from his long tendrils into the bath.

“I’m sorry m’lord. I thought you would want help washing your hair.” The woman apologized, her voice quivering slightly.

“It’s fine. Continue,” Aerys sniffled, wiping his eyes.

“Yes, m’lord.” The woman whispered, continuing her work.

Aerys leaned his head back, allowing her to pour water over the top of his head. She hummed absentmindedly as she threaded her fingers through his hair. Aerys sat quietly. He closed his eyes, trying to relax. His body ached all over. No doubt the results of sleeping on the bare stone floor. His stomach clenched almost painfully and released a rather loud growl. Aerys felt the heat rising on his face.

“Will you fetch me something to eat?” He asked timorously.

The woman stopped, a small smile spread across her round face.

“Of course, m’lord.”

Aerys nodded, listening as she left the room. He waited until the door locked behind her before laying back in the tub. He took a quick breath before sinking into the water, allowing it to submerge his head completely.

–

Aerys nibbled on the bread in his hands while the maid, whose name he discovered was Wylla, brushed his hair. He also found that the woman had a fondness for talking. Aerys had only asked which region of the realm she had come from, and now he knew that she had a brother who herds goats in the Riverlands, a sister whose husband owns an inn in the Reach, and apparently, they are descendants of some long-vanished king of the First Men.

He had stayed silent as she droned on and on, only letting out the occasional hum to let her know he was still listening. It was better than being trapped alone within the confines of his mind. The skin of his neck was sore; even the slightest touch made him cringe. Wylla had said the bruise was darkening already, with slight purple hues appearing with the red.

His mind drifted to Agana. The man missed her deeply. He missed the warmth of her scales on his skin, the wind blowing through his hair as they flew through the skies, and most of all, he missed the strength she gave him, the courage she made him feel. He needed that courage now more than ever.

“Your grace,” Wylla gasped.

Aerys turned his head, watching as Wylla bowed before the dowager queen. Alicent nodded, dismissing the maid. Wylla took the hint, quickly leaving the room. A white cloak that Aerys did not recognize closed the door behind her. Leaving him alone with the dowager queen. Alicent stood a few feet away, looking as regal as ever. She stared at him, toying with the skin around her fingernails. Aerys sighed before standing, turning around so they were face to face.

“I am sorry for your loss, Lady Alicent.”

“Thank you, Aerys,” she spoke quietly, a slight quiver in her voice.

He was being sincere. The woman had just lost a grandchild. He could not imagine that was an easy pain to bear. She cleared her throat, pushing her shoulders back to appear taller.

“But my grief is not the reason I am here.”

Aerys scrunched his brows, tilting his head slightly to the side. It took only a moment before the meaning of her words dawned on him.

“How is he?”

“Angry,” she sighed, “eager for vengeance.”

“And Helaena?” He asked.

The woman froze, her eyes staring at him. He watched as they welled with tears. Her bottom lip trembled as she let out a shaky breath. The woman cleared her throat, quickly hardening her face. It saddened him to see how quickly she internalized her pain. How quickly she buried it in her heart to put on the brave face that was expected of her. 

“She’s alive.” She answered. 

The mixture of relief and sorrow in her voice was not lost on him. Helaena was alive but would now have to live with the turmoil of losing a child, her first child. She would bear that pain- that loss for the rest of her life. Would that truly be a life worth living?

“What is it that you need from me?” Aerys asked.

The woman took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling. She clasped her hands together and placed them in front of her—an array of conflicting emotions crossed over her glossy eyes. She averted her gaze, lowering her head slightly.

“He needs you,” she answered, with a slightly reluctant tone. “To offer him the solace I cannot.”

Aerys turned away from her. He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. His lips quivered, and his face contorted as he tried to fight back his tears. The skin of his neck grew hot as he remembered Aegon’s hands around his throat. He did not think Aegon truly meant to hurt him. It was an act done in haste while processing the death of his son. He could not blame him for it. Aerys took a deep breath, spinning back around to face the woman. She stared at him, her eyes trying to gauge his answer. He gave a simple nod.

“Ser Thorne shall escort you to the king,” she said before leaving the room.

The white cloak he did not recognize, Ser Thorne stood at the door. Aerys quickly put on his boots before walking to meet the man. He slowly stepped into the hall. His eyes searched the hall as if this were some sort of trap. Ser Thorne slammed the door shut and began walking. Aerys quickly followed. The castle was dark and quiet. Aerys noted that there were more guards than usual. Looking around in confusion, he realized Ser Thorne was leading him to his grandsire’s bedchamber. However, he quickly realized the reason for this. They crowned Aegon king. Where else would he be besides the king's apartments? Ser Thorne held up a hand, signaling Aerys to stop. 

Dread and worry crept into his mind as he realized only a wooden door kept him and Aegon separate. Ser Throne pushed open the door, standing to the side so that Aerys could pass him. Aerys nodded his head as he did so. He watched as the knight closed the door behind him. 

Heartwrenching cries pull Aerys away from his thoughts. Painful sobs and even more painful-sounding hiccups echo in the air. The sound broke his heart. He turns around, searching for Aegon. He finds the man hunched over in a chair, fiddling with his ring before the hearth. A tightness filled his chest like there was a hand squeezing his heart. Aerys was familiar with grief, but the grief of losing a child was another matter entirely. Something he had no experience with. It was something he never wanted to experience. He did not think he would be able to survive such a loss.

Lost in his grief, Aegon seemed utterly unaware of his presence. Aerys walked over to the man’s side. He raised his hand, hovering it over Aegon’s shoulder. Perhaps this was a mistake. Their last encounter was not a positive one. Would Aegon even want to see him? Would he want his comfort? Or would his presence merely anger him?

Aegon’s body jerked with each painful gasp that escaped his throat. His head hung low, concealing his face. Aerys took a deep breath, placing a firm hand on Aegon’s shoulder. He was willing to risk facing the man’s wrath. If Aegon wanted to scream at or hurt him, Aerys would let him. Whatever Aegon wanted from him, Aerys would provide it.

Alarmed, Aegon turns his head upwards to find the intruder. His eyes are red and puffy, but he still tries his best to look fierce. Perhaps he was afraid someone had come for his head next. When he realized it was none other than Aerys, his eyes softened. His face crumpled, and he burst into inconsolable tears. Aegon’s hands grabbed Aerys by the hips, pulling him closer. Aerys did not fight or cry out when Aegon’s fingers dug painfully into his skin. Aegon buried his face into Aerys’ clothed stomach, howling like a wounded animal. Aerys used one hand to thread his fingers through Aegon’s hair. The other, he used to rub the man’s back.

“My boy,” Aegon cried, “they killed my boy!”

Aerys dropped his head, closing his eyes. He bit his bottom lip to stop himself from crying. He needed to be strong for Aegon. The man needed someone to lean on now, more than ever. 

“I saw,” Aegon gasped. “I-I saw him. I h-held his little-little body,” he stammered between sobs. 

Aerys rubbed Aegon’s back, trying to soothe him. The man only cried harder. Aerys could feel his tunic clinging to his skin. The result of Aegon’s tears, though Aerys did not mind it. 

“I’m so sorry, Aegon...” Aerys whispered through tears.

Aegon shook his head. Aerys stumbled as the man suddenly pushed him away. He watched Aegon pace the room back and forth, shaking his head and muttering. 

“Aegon,” Aerys called, trying to catch his attention.

“They took his head,” Aegon whimpered. “They took his fucking head!” He shouted, grabbing a nearby goblet and throwing the glass with all his might.

Aerys flinched as the glass shattered against the wall. He watched helplessly as Aegon slumped to his knees, crying in his hands. Aerys kneeled beside him, pulling the man into his arms. Aegon buried his face in Aerys’ shoulder, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. Aerys pressed a soft kiss to Aegon’s hair. One hand held the back of Aegon’s neck while the other rested on his back. No words were spoken as they cried and clung to each other for dear life.

Aerys felt Aegon press wet kisses to the side of his neck. He winced; the bruises on his neck pained him. Aegon pulled away, his eyes observing the bruising on Aerys’ neck.

“I hurt you,” he whimpered, his face contorting in anguish.

“Shh,” Aerys shook his head, “I’ll be fine.”

Aerys pulled him closer, resting their heads together. Aegon leaned forward, pressing their lips together. Aerys did not stop him. The kisses are rough and desperate. Aerys feels a hand run down his body, cupping his clothed cock. He pulls back, grabs the hand, and pushes it away. Aegon whimpers, trying to capture Aerys’ lip again, but Aerys shakes his head.

“Just let me hold you,” he says softly.

Aegon stills; his violet eyes are unsure, and he looks almost afraid. Aerys sits on the floor, stretching out his legs. Hesitantly, Aegon lays down, resting his head on Aerys’ lap. He flinches when Aerys lifts his hand but relaxes when he feels Aerys run his fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. Aerys continues this even after Aegon falls asleep. His eyes trailed over every inch of Aegon’s face, listening to his friend's soft snores. His back ached from sitting like this, but he did not care. Whatever Aegon needed from him at that moment, he would provide it.

Tags: @saicherry, @willow-red, @sadpuffpuff, @teamavatar13,

[comradekarin]

In your rhaenys post, What do you mean that the male characters around them are smarter than them (alicent and rhaenyra)?

TW. long post……….

what i mean is that in the writers’ pursuit of portraying their female characters as “peacelovers that don’t wish for destruction and bloodshed”, they are also making them appear extremely naive, much to the detriment of their respective factions. lucerys has been murdered by aemond while acting as an envoy. visenya was born pre-maturely after rhaenyra heard the news of viserys’ death and the greens’ usurpation. jaehaerys was killed as a placeholder for aemond due to the rat catchers inability to find the latter. viserys is presumed to have been killed by the greens to even steal the throne from rhaenyra. do we see rhaenyra truly reckoning with all of these events? no. alicent lost her grandson and clearly still does have gripes over aemond losing his eye as a child (i have a personal headcanon that alicent edged the possibility of aemond getting revenge further down the line). alicent is also responsible for spreading those illegitimacy claims about rhaenyra’s three children, and consequently endangering her and her kids’ lives. she is also—albeit indirectly—involved in harwin and lyonel’s death. despite the fact that their families are at war and are killing each other, these women remain firm in keeping peace. yet their stances aren’t cemented because of their losses, but because of the writers’ consistent efforts to erase what has happened to them now and in their past.

rhaenyra goes to kings landing to sue for peace. that in of itself is extremely foolish. she doesn’t tell her council where she’s going, nor does she seem to have a plan if things go sideways. and in her absence, jacaerys and baela are essentially thrown to the wolves mitigating the black council’s frustrations with, again, no info on where rhaenyra even is. rhaenyra goes to KL, speaks to alicent, and by bad writing extreme luck is able to leave unharmed. alicent literally doesn’t tell anyone that nyra infiltrated, OR that she let her go. they come off as silly to the audience, not wise. jacaerys seems to be the only person with common sense, to make matters even worse. there’s even times where you’re thinking that rhaenyra should have listened to daemon.

these women are not allowed to express how they feel about the events happening around them. not only are the writers destroying the complexity of their feelings, but they’re also falsely equating alicent and rhaneyra even though narratively it doesn’t make sense to put them on the same pedestal. rhaenys spoke to alicent herself, who wanted her help to rob rhaneyra of her throne, thus endangering the lives of baela and rhaena due to them being betrothed to jace and luke. yet, a couple of episodes later, we have rhaenys implying that rhaenyra is to blame for jaehaerys’ death and sees the “violence” in the men around alicent, thus urging nyra to go to KL. baela is only being used as a rhaenyra’s cheerleader so far this season, never really having her own thoughts and opinions on this war outside of her support for nyra (which isn’t inherently wrong, her support I mean). and don’t even get me started on helaena’s lack of reaction to her son’s death. i think daemon cried more over that little boy than her. rhaena doesn’t even have enough scenes for me to make an assumption, which is bad in of itself.

lastly, in going this “peaceful women, evil men” route, we also get a lot of contradictions with the writing of these characters. especially so with alicent. no longer is alicent this protective, cunning and bitter woman we saw in season one. now? it’s almost as if the writers are trying to absolve her of the things she did in season one, thus erasing what makes her the character her fans love. whether it’s trying to push the rhaenyra x alicent ship, bad writing, or both, overall, i just think it’s really silly and just soft misogyny to even have this line of thinking when writing women. the writers only have like six anyway, and it’s like they haven’t done any of them justice.

[padawansuggest]

Some hot takes here but I gotta say them, a lightsaber isn’t a Jedi’s life because it’s their weapon, it’s simply coincidence that their weapon of choice happens to have a chunk of their literal soul powering it because kyber is bonding to a life force as a part of it’s very soul which is why I will never forgive Qui-Gon for taking part of Obi-Wan’s soul with him as if he had any RIGHT to it. Not only did he cut the boy’s hair (and again I think that’s disgusting because even if it’s Just Hair, no one in the world has the right to forcibly remove any part of your body from you) but he took Obi-Wan’s saber. His saber, which he built himself, and had a piece of his soul in it. This isn’t even talking about how Qui-Gon left a child DEFENSELESS on a planet in civil war, but he had No Right to take a child’s fractured being with him out of anger.

Conversely let’s talk about a few things here: the fact that Anakin and Obi-Wan (who famously have the exact same blade colour which I think means they have twin crystals) have such similar saber forces, but Obi-Wan couldn’t handle not burying them together when he thought his brother was dead. The fact that even if I hate his guts, Obi-Wan held onto Qui-Gon’s saber after his death because he hoped like the darksaber, maybe a part of it would remain. The fact that Luke carried an actual literal piece of his father’s soul and knew that Anakin Skywalker at his best was light and soft and happy. The fact that Obi-Wan tells Anakin that his saber is his life truly isn’t because it’s a weapon because Obi-Wan uses other weapons all the time in canon, looses that saber a lot, but because he knows what it’s like to miss pieces of your being. That Cody so willingly takes and cares for this piece of his general in the war. How many commanders cared for their general’s soul in the war? The fact that the idea that whoever wields the darksaber is the true ruler of Mandalore and whoever is given it without proof is going to be cursed is actually because Tarre is staring at them all from the afterlife like ‘these bitches are annoying the shit outta me can one of them really treat this position right before I come back just to strangle them???’ The fact that in Star Wars Visions we learn you can temper kyber to match the colour to the wielder and i think it’s also to help bond with it faster if it’s more pliant.

The fact is??? Kyber is so fucking strong okay I just wanna read 7000 books about it and if I was in SW universe I would probably run an obsessive blog about how cool I think kyber is. Also Qui-Gon is a fucknut

[delayed-affection]

Captain

Navigation   Oneshots

Luke Hughes x reader

Warnings: Petname (Beautiful) when said ‘Captain on the ice’ I am talking about team usa 

Word count: 0.8k

You and Luke are at his brother’s lake house, and like any good brothers they gave him a key. Which honestly might not have been the best idea.

He knows where they store the boat’s keys and is currently trying to convince you to take it out with him.

“Come on, Beautiful, it’ll be fun.” He assures, “We’ll never get the chance to do this again.”

“Just because you’re captain on the ice does not mean you can captain the water.” You argue

“Ice is just frozen water.” He states, “So I think we’ll be just fine.”

You grab his face, “Are you even hearing yourself, right now?”

He grabs your wrists, “All I’m hearing is a great idea.”

You drop your hands to your sides, “Then we’re hearing two different things.”

He pulls you into a hug, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes, but if something happens to us or the boat-“

He cuts you off, “Nothing will happen, I promise.”

“How can you be sure?” You question

“Because you’ll be there, Beautiful, and I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.” He says placing a soft kiss on your lips.

This boy is going to be the death of you.

You sigh pulling away from him, “Okay, we can go.”

“Really? Okay, the sun goes down in like twenty minutes.” He says, “I’ll go start up the boat, can you go grab a blanket?”

~

The two of you are now in the middle of the lake, watching as the sun slowly makes its way down.

He moves to sit next to you, “See, I did just fine.”

You laugh, “Other than the fact you took off full speed, yeah you did great.”

He chuckles pulling you closer, “Yeah… I could lie and say I did that purpose…”

“But…” You say

“But…” He drags, “It was an accident, a very funny accident.”

“I’m glad you think me falling on my ass was funny.”

Just thinking about it makes him laugh, “Well maybe you should sit down next time.”

You bring your face close to his, “Well maybe you shouldn’t take off like that next time.”

He smiles, “So there’ll be a next time?”

You give him a quick peck, “Yeah, you driving us back to the dock.”

He groans, “You’re no fun, Beautiful.”

You pull out your phone, “I mean, if I’m no fun, I could always just text your brothers-“

He tries to grab your phone, “No, no, no, no.”

You pull it away from him opening up messages, “Who would be more upset? Jack or Quinn?”

“Beautiful, beautiful, look I’m sorry.” He pleads grabbing for the phone, “Y/n, please.”

You gasp, “Maybe your mom.”

You push his hands away with your free one.

“Stop, come on.” He begs

You’re not actually texting them, you’re texting him but it’s funny to see him squirm.

You get up from your seat and send the text, “Too late.”

He gives you a defeated look, “You did not.”

You hear his phone chime, “You’re right, I didn’t.”

He pulls out his phone and his face breaks out into a smile, “You’re such an ass.”

You stand between his legs, “I love you too, Bookie.”

He laughs, “Bookie? Who’s Bookie? Cause it’s not me.”

“Oh but you are bookie.” You tell him, “You’re also Lukey, Hughesy, Baby, Moose…”

You cup his face and place a sweet and gentle kiss on his lips, “And the newest one, Captain.”

He smiles as you go to kiss him again, “However that’s only on the ice because you have yet to conquer the water.”

“Way to kill the mood.” He replies leaning back, “And I did just fine, you’re just hating for no reason.”

“No, me hating is saying that I would rather have Jack drive. Actually, no, having Trevor drive rather than you.”

He pulls you down next to him, “And that would hurt my feelings. No, no, that would kill me because he sucks at driving.”

“Exactly my point, you did way better than he ever could.” You state, “Don’t tell him or your brothers I said that they’ll throw me overboard.”

He puts his arms around you and leans over the side of the boat, “Oh, you mean like this?”

You hold him tighter, praying that he’s just messing around, “Lu-Luke, you do this and I am breaking up with you!”

He acts like falling back, “Oh, you’d break up with me?”

“Luke Warren Hughes, I swear to god.”

He moves closer to water and loosens his hold on you, “Woah.”

You start to panic, “Please don’t.”

He sits you both up and bursts into a fit laughter.

You scoot away from him, “Oh, I’m so glad you find that funny.”

He pulls you back trying to calm down, “I’m sorry, but I had to get you back.”

“Jackass.” You mutter laying into him.

“Beautiful, I said sorry, I was just messing around.” He says

“I know.” You answer, “But I also know there was a piece of you that wanted to drop me in there.”

He chuckles softly, “You don’t know that.”

You give him a look, telling him to be for real.

He kisses the top of your head, “Okay maybe I did consider actually doing it.”

[sunnflow3rshowers]

Rp Search

In this year of Our Lord 2023, Omegle has fallen. (RIP) So here I am, laying all of this out, desperate to find more rp partners. I am 27, so I am only really interested in rping with people that are 21+. I am interested in both fandom and OC rps, depending on the mood and all of that. I will list the fandoms I'm looking for, as well as who I play, and general themes. I am a third person, literate roleplay, I stick to 1-2 paragraphs, but the length can always fluctuate depending on the roleplay and my roleplay partners. When it comes to RPs, I like them light and soft. I also like them dark and heavy, with lots of Whump, Angst, and Hurt/Comfort, as well as some darker themes that would require trigger warnings, all of which will be discussed privately, of course.

I prefer MxM for fandom rps, although there are some small exceptions for specific ships. I"m more open to MxF and FxF, and other pairings with more OC rps. With most Fandom Rps, I am looking for Shipping Rps, aka a Merthur rp, Kylux Rp, etc

Fandoms!

Fandom: Who I play

Teen wolf: Stiles Stilinski The Old Guard: Nicky Star Wars: Luke Skywalker, Armitage Hux Umbrella Academy: Klaus Stranger Things: Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington The Hobbit: Bilbo Baggins The Witcher: Jaskier Kingsman: Eggsy Unwin ATLA: Sokka Our Flag Means Death: Lucius Spriggs Gotham: Oswald Cobblepot Merlin: Merlin Criminal Minds: Spencer Reid Hannibal: Will Graham Arcane: Viktor Spider-Man: Peter Parker (NOT MCU) GOT: Sansa (only paired with Sandor Clegane) The Eternals: Makkari (only paired with Druig) Detroit Become Human: Connor Good Omens: Aziraphale Agents of Shield: Fitz (as gay and not paired with Simmons) FAHC: Jack (fem) Yugioh: Joey Wheeler Person of Interest: Harold Finch Haikyuu: Suga, kenma X-men: Charles Xavier The Boys: Hughie White Collar: Neal The Goldfinch: Theo Hunter X Hunter: Kurapika, Shalnark Barry: No-ho Hank IT: Eddie Hawaii 5-0: Danny Daredevil (netflix): Foggy, James Wesley Fantastic Beasts: Credence Vikings: Athelstan OC Fandoms! Hit me up if you want to talk about rps in any of these. In these sorts of rps I am 110% down to double up if you play canon against my oc, all of which can be talked and discussed privately! Marvel Xmen GOT Star Wars Barry General Rps! I am a huge fan of brainstorming rps with general themes! Fantasy Horror Drama Sci-fi Cyberpunk Etc! Please please just reach out and I'm always going to be happy to brainstorm! If you made it this far, thank you so much! If you are interested, like this, leave a comment, send me a dm, or add me on discord @ sunnflow3rshowers !

[innytoes]

your dark fantasy/fae au is so fucking cool and I’m going to be thinking about it forever now. I just wanted you to know. that’s all, have a wonderful day <33

Hard same, anon! Have some more headcanons.

-Willie has 100% crashed while skateboarding, walked home with an obviously broken arm, and gone about his day because he still had chores and you have to work through the pain that's just what you do, right?

-NO, and Ray spends a very panicked ride to the ER.

-At least Willie is delighted with his cast and the human tradition of your friends writing and drawing on it. Julie draws a little butterfly for him and he's just delighted.

-The boys all sleep in one room in a giant puppy pile. Ray offered them separate beds but they all looked so betrayed he just... made sure they had enough blankets and pillows instead.

-After the bird funeral, Willie is concerned because Ray's garden is not that big and there are a lot of people in this house and apparently death comes for everyone and he is relieved to learn humans have special gardens for human dead people called cemeteries.

The next time they drive past one on their way to Carlos' baseball game, Willie presses his nose to the car window and informs everyone: "There's dead people in there."

It is quiet in the car (Carlos makes sure to note they can put the 'x days since Willie said something weird' back to 0) before Julie is like: you're not wrong?

-Luke is trying desperately to figure out if in The Modern Era he still needs to ask Ray's permission to Court Julie. After doing a lot of research watching the telly-vision, he concludes he does not, he needs to get Flynn's approval because she is The Bestie.

-Flynn is like: to court Julie you must first complete these quests.

-Reggie would put a stop to it but honestly it's keeping Luke out of trouble when he has to write a song, and fetch Flynn seven sodas, and come catch and release the spider in her room (he brings Willie who politely asks the spider to stay on the other side of her window) and perform Feats Of Strength (help Flynn rearrange her furniture).

-Julie finds out and puts a stop to it of course but to be fair she really likes the song and was very flustered at sweaty Luke in his cut-off t-shirt so... she can't be too mad at Flynn.

(More mature and ridiculous headcanons behind the cut.)

-When the equinox approaches, Willie gets a little distressed. Because Ray hasn't done any preparations. Where are the wines and grapes and cured meats? The honey cakes? The pixie pears? Ray who have you invited? What about the music? What about the revelries, Ray? Are you going to get the couches deep cleaned after the orgies or do you have special soft blankets to cover them?

-Ray goes from mildly confused to very distressed, especially when Willie is like: is that not why you have so many couches???

-What follows is a very distressing day for Ray as he tries to figure out if the boys have sexual abuse trauma on top of the whole 'kidnapped by magical beings' and 'hunted for sport' and 'enslaved to perform for the fairy's amusement' trauma.

-They do not, but just to be sure he has a talk with them about consent and safe sex.

-Willie staring at Ray like: "What do you mean protection? Do humans attack each other during sex? Alex, you never told me this." Luke is trying to calm Ray down like: it's okay Alex and Willie can't get pregnant they don't need to pull out unless they want to. Reggie is coming to the frightening realisation that he is the normal one and has to be the mature one. He is also very, very sorry, Ray. There were just... so many orgies. Or maybe just a few long, long orgies. Time was weird. You get kind of desensitised to it all.

-Willie understanding that Consent is like the magic spell that makes sex okay and starts just asking Alex: Consent? And Alex goes 'okay!' and they happily skip off together.

(Julie: I am traumatised. Reggie: Yeah well blame your dad.)

-Not Reggie quietly pining as he sees Julie and Luke get closer and Willie and Alex carefree and in love and he's just over here... trying not to think of exactly what happened at those orgies and how suddenly he's the one left behind and alone.

[mariejordans]

Listen I adore limoreau they're the first new ship I've had in a long time and I know the show only has 8 eps but omg they're skipping so many important things with them wtf we should've gotten to see flashbacks of their first time where's the convo after all the angst last episode we need more development and depth. I really don't think they anticipated how popular they were gonna be not as a ship but just romance in general they thought it was gonna be like the boys where 99% of the fandom could not care less about who is dating who but this is a college show and the dynamics and potential of the ships is 1000% greater than that of the boys and I LOVE the boys but it's not that show. Also although the boys doesn't kill most of its characters I think gen v is gonna be different we're loosing at least one main the finale and more in s2

okay this post kinda got away from me and i just started rambling (probably nonsense) so please forgive me if none of this makes sense and/or sounds stupid 😭

first off, anon i COMPLETELY agree with you on the first point. like, don’t get me wrong, i’ve loved and appreciated all the limoreau scenes we’ve gotten so far but right now limoreau just feels a bit….underdeveloped ig? i’m not saying that the writers need to take three seasons to get them together (that would be torture), but it feels like there are so many loose ends left with them and i don’t see how they can tie them all up in the final episode, considering it’s supposed to be a tie-in to s4 of the boys and SO MUCH SHIT is happening.

it feels as if the writers shoved in as much limoreau content as they could into the first half of the season and then were like “alright that should be enough” like???? no? we have not seen a proper conversation between jordan and marie about the state of their relationship since, what, episode 5? and they never resolved the issue of jordan being insecure about marie wanting to be with ALL of them, not just their masc self? if the kiss in tonight’s episode is the last limoreau romantic content we get, i’ll be very disappointed bc i feel like they definitely could’ve at least wrapped up that arc in less than eight episodes.

and don’t get me started on what happened during the memory wipe. the two main characters had SEX and we don’t even get to see the build-up to how and why that happened? it’s not as if marie and jordan don’t remember, bc cate literally gave them their memory back, so it kinda feels like we missed a couple steps in this episode 😭 like, yes, the kiss was super cute and soft and adorable and yes i was kicking my feet and giggling, but at the same time it felt a bit “whoa why we going so fucking fast” bc as far as WE know, they haven’t really talked about the kiss or the sex. like, i feel robbed a little bit bc this is supposed to be like THE main couple 😭

i also think you might be onto something with the writers not anticipating how popular limoreau bc the boys (while they do have some beautiful ships kimchie ily) is not exactly a ship/romance-heavy show and ig they expected the audience to take after the boys?? idk if that makes sense but 🤷🏼‍♀️

as for gen v having major characters killed off, i kinda agree, i kinda don’t. i think mostly bc they’ve already killed off two major characters (luke, who i am counting even though he was alive for 1 ep bc his death was a MAJOR plot twist bc he was literally being promoted as a main/lead character, and indira) and then they also killed off dr. cardosa, so i’d say the kill count is pretty high already. i think the characters most likely to die are andre or cate (or andre’s dad but idk if i’d consider him a major death.)

i think marie and jordan are probably the safest of the main characters (KNOCK ON WOOD!!!!!!) and should they survive this season (god willing!!!!) i think they will remain safe, if not safer. limoreau are the biggest draw (for newer viewers who haven’t seen the boys at least) to the show right now in my opinion. almost everyone i encounter who likes this show got into it because of jordan and marie. i got into it bc of jordan and marie. i don’t think it’d be smart of them to kill off their most popular characters (at least, i really really hope they’re smart enough NOT to do that) so (again, KNOCK ON WOOD!!!!!!!) i think they are safe.

cate could go one of three ways i think; 1, she lives and ends up going full villain/anti-hero arc (which works well with the theory that marie is gonna blow off cate’s hands so she can’t use her power); 2, she has a whole redemption arc where she sacrifices herself for the group; and 3, (this one seems the most far-fetched to me idk if they would actually go this route) cate dies and becomes a martyr or symbol of the entire supes lives matter thing or whatever it’s called. either way, cate is going to go through some deep deep shit in the finale.

ppl have been saying emma and sam kinda have death trope written all over them, but idk i just don’t see it. i could MAYBE see one of them dying, but also not bc apparently there was a scene from one of the promo trailers of emma in the woods as a prisoner and considering this hasn’t happened yet, i’m thinking maybe it could be a cliffhanger for the end of the episode into season 2? as for sam, i honestly have no idea what the writers have planned for him. personally, i think it would be cruel to kill him off after what he experienced in the woods, not to mention his brother already is dead so it’d be kinda fucked up to kill both riordan brothers but 🤷🏼‍♀️ anything can happen in this show

as for andre, i hate to say it, but he’s kinda useless. he’s probably the weakest supe of the group if i had to pick one and i could definitely see andre dying being used as a way to either solidify cate’s villain arc or like, shock some sense into her(?) bringing her back to the good side, idk 🤷🏼‍♀️ plus there’s the whole controversy with chance, so unless andre survives and they decide to recast him, i really wouldn’t be that sorry to see him go. also, i think his dad is almost for sure dying, my main question is what the hell happened to him and how did he die bc that was random as hell.

i really just hope limoreau and cate survive, they’re probably the most interesting characters in this entire show (i may be a bit biased but it’s fiiine), plus the actors are so so so great, it’d be such a shame to lose them. i’m a little ambivalent on sam and emma, but i don’t really WANT them to die, and with andre, i kinda just don’t care for reasons explained above.

honestly, i think if they kill off another main character this season, it might lessen the chances of killing off another main character in the second season (unless they add more characters to the main cast), and if they end up surviving all the main characters, someone is def getting killed in s2, idk if it’ll be both, but again, anything can happen in this universe so i guess we’ll have to see 🤷🏼‍♀️

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: "A Princess On Lothal"

Mini Leia is here to lift everyone's spirits, and provide some much-needed hardware to the Rebellion.

Right, so going to have to be careful about the new photo limit, but just one quick cap from the beginning here because awwww the Loth-cat was comforting Ezra!

Oooh the deep glockenspiel adds some interesting texture to this music cue here.

And cue the Hammerhead corvettes. Good thing Leia dropped by when most of the blockade was still sweeping up on Garel.

(They'll be back soon, Lothal and Garel are practically galactic neighbors.)

Lol Lyste sighing in aggravation about "Another delegation from Alderaan." I'm certain Bail and Breha have cultivated quite the bleeding heart reputation as cover for their covert Rebel activities.

I don't think the voice actress they chose is that great. She sounds... way older than 15/16 and I can tell she's trying for the cadence of Carrie Fisher's snark but... I dunno it just lands weird for me. I think they could have gotten away with having her voice sound younger and it would have been okay.

Chopper sticking by Ezra's side. :((((

A slow, mournful version of Ezra's theme. Fitting, as he's going to be grieving the whole episode. Which is a nice bit of continuity. I love it when shows allow time for characters to grieve and adjust to losses they've sustained.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The way Ezra idly thumps the cadet helmet to the side of his head. Just a nice little gesture that adds character and flavor.

Oh shit, that was definitely a Dies Irae in the score there.

(A refresher for those of you just joining this rewatch: The Dies Irae is an old Latin musical sequence that has been used basically since the Gregorian chant days to denote the specter of death in a work of music. Composers from ages past up to the present have referenced it in their compositions. Think of it as like the world's oldest music meme.)

Lot of OT score references in this part, no surprise.

Ezra is noticeably more surly and pissy than usual this episode, at least until his pep talk from Leia. Also no surprise, the boy hides behind his sarcasm and snark like no one's business.

"I don't get to give orders!" Just wait, Ezra, lol. You'll get your turn.

Leia playing Lyste like a damn fiddle lolol.

Mini Leia is really pretty. They did a great job with her design.

Alderaan sits pretty in the "plausible deniability" section. I'm sure the Empire suspected the planet of harboring secret Rebel sympathies but they were never able to have concrete proof of it. Bail, like Mon, probably held out hope that he could stem some of the Empire's tyranny from within, and so that's why he didn't want to lose his seat of government power, not as long as there was a chance he could effect some kind of change, which meant Alderaan had to avoid being directly tied to the Rebellion.

There's some commentary there about the need to work within the system in order to fix it, versus when it's time to break off and burn it down, but I'm not going to go into that right now.

Hngh, Ryder's resignation when the Stormtrooper mentions "termination".

"Hera's here." Hhhnkgjhn that's the happiest we've heard Ezra sound this episode Imma cry.

Luke's theme used per the standard as a bold Big Damn Heroes leitmotif with the Ghost's appearance.

"I'll warn Sabine." Lol how does Ezra know Sabine's the one who's going to be paying attention?

Zeb enjoyed this entirely too much lololol.

Ha ha those two Stormtroopers who are like, "They take prisoners now???"

This man has zero shame lol.

RIGHT, SO THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE UNDERRATED SABEZRA MOMENTS RIGHT HERE AND I HAVE BEEN A VERY GOOD GIRL WITH THE PHOTO LIMIT WHICH MEANS I GET TO CAP THE SCENE IN FULL.

That soft hand on his arm. The way her eyes linger on him as he turns away.

*sobs*

I love it so muuuuuuuuch!

Leia being, well, Leia, immediately discerns that something's really bugging Ezra. I love that the Kenobi show leaned into the inner sixth sense she displays here, that she can pick out a person's thoughts and feelings with the Force just by looking at them.

Kanan discerning that Leia might be able to comment and help Ezra, aww.

Friiiiiiiiick his face.

Leia's theme follows right on the heels of Ezra's theme here, in the score.

"I feel like because I can fight, I have to, for those who cannot." Boy is that isn't the quintessential Jedi and Rebel Alliance motivation right there...

I do like the dynamic between Ezra and Leia. It's very sweet. They bond based on their shared Hero Complex motivations, their mutual desire to fight on behalf of the helpless. Ezra shows off a little bit for her, later, in the way he usually does around girls he likes (the boy has A Type, let's be honest), but it never quite reaches the overtness of his crush on Sabine, so it hits even more quasi-platonic.

I think Leia thought he was cute tho.

Back to the plot, Leia's embarrassing Lyste all over the place here lol.

Ah, wow, the Rebel Alliance theme, haven't heard that in a while.

There is quite a bit of tension in how slowly the Hammerheads take off. The show plays that tension for all it's worth.

Oh you know I gotta comment about this part right here where Ezra goes feral.

For a moment we had all forgotten about the fact that he was clearly grieving, and this outburst caught us off guard. The way this is staged it's framed as concerning, with an edge of danger, Ezra leaping onto the Stormtrooper and clashing beats sounding along with his punches in the score, Kanan reaching towards him with an almost hesitant body posture.

But! Ezra lets out his anger and then contains himself, standing up and just putting his helmet back on. He breathes, regains his composure, and returns to neutral.

*weeps* He's such a good Jedi.

Kanan whipping out his lightsaber to be awesome against the AT-ATs aaaaaah!

(And that implied to be the reason Ryder stayed on Lothal and started up a new Rebel cell there, ONCE AGAIN CATCH ME CRYING ABOUT HOW THE JEDI REPRESENT HOPE TO A HOPELESS GALAXY.)

HHmmmmmmgggh I wanna say this is a recurring leitmotif but I don't know, I love it either way, it's beautiful.

Swish swish and return to first position, aaaah lightsaber choreography is so cool sometimes.

This whole sequence is just... *chef kiss*. The orchestration, the tension, the rapid shot choice...

Lolol Lyste getting thoroughly embarrassed by Leia.

Fun fact: One of the Hammerheads they gathered here in this episode would later go on to be the one that landed THE decisive blow to one of the Star Destroyers guarding the shield gate at Scarif.

PIECE BY PIECE, REBELS SHOWS THE MINUTIA OF SACRIFICES NEEDED TO PUT EVERY ELEMENT INTO PLACE FOR THEIR ULTIMATE VICTORY.

Ryder enters with Ezra, did Ezra have any kind of hand in convincing him to fight for Lothal?

HE LOOKS DIRECTLY AT EZRA I THINK THERE'S A CASE TO BE MADE HERE.

The Force Theme soaring into prominence here as we close out.

This episode is just the kind of break we need to process the events of the previous episode. Leia is almost flawless, willy deflecting suspicion off herself while playing the Imperials all for fools, compassionate and empathetic when she senses someone in pain and turmoil.

Ezra is allowed to grieve throughout the episode, and displays a myriad of conflicted and complex emotions from scene to scene. Kanan almost takes a bit of a backseat to comforting him, letting all the others express sympathy in turn, giving him the space he needs and offering up the distraction of the mission. He handles Ezra really well, all things considered.

It helps that Ezra, unlike Anakin, chooses to deal with and channel his grief in a productive way, rather than destructive. (I have the tag "#ezra is the anti-anakin" for a reason.)

This is a fun episode. Lighter than the previous one, lower stakes, but needed to let the characters breathe and process through the revelations of the plot. I really like it.

We're about to hit the Golden Streak, so stay tuned, I will have more to say later.

[flamingfuzzydice]

‼️NSFW‼️

CAN I GET AWN MY LUKE SKYWALKER HIGH HORSE FOR A MIN

☆NSFW/ 18+, defending luke skywalker being bby grl but not a baby AND a dom w my life☆

some of us, at least what i have seen on tiktok, has gotten into the habit of infantilizing luke. not to say one can’t have their indulgent baby gyal luke hc’s and preferences, but i feel like we’ve almost come to this luke=baby conclusion. this man, admittedly with his soft baby blue eyes, has come a long way from being a whiny farm boy from the first movie. he’s been through the death of his aunt and uncle, the death of uncle ben, and then the death of his father after suffering in his war—where many of his peers DIED— and yet luke was able to guide anakin back to the light anyway. not to mention yoda and how hard he worked to become a jedi !! and not to say you can’t have all this and be a mess in the sheets IM !!JUST SAYIN the fit he absolutely kills in return of the jedi shows a confident, controlled, collected jedi. he’s rather removed from who he was several years ago just joining the resistance and calling ✨the millennium falcon✨ a piece of junk. he’s not that same luke, i even think the de babyfication began when he saw his dead fam just smokin outside their house.

FURTHER MORE it is my fervent belief that while luke is very respectful and polite because he wants to be, i also believe he knows what he wants and he is very good at jedi mind tricks(i wonder why he learned those 🫣🤭🐱🫦). and luke doesn’t need anyone to protect him for sure not physically but emotionally too. he stands up to han all the time and even the emperor of the galaxy !! this mf in his all black ensemble and knee high boots is gonna sweep me awf my feet FR !! he is so assured in himself and i’m swooned

i would also like to state if anyone’s their daddy’s child it’s luke. anakin also very powerful but possessive, over protective, and willing to do literally anything for those he loved(and whiny). they are literally so much alike, luke is like padme’s grace and etiquette with anakin’s need to protect and control(“if it works” head ahh). (i also see this is leia as well but this post is abt luke) but i feel like luke is much more emotionally regulated than anakin, so

also i dabble in the occasional din x luke which is a popular ship and if ANYONE is baby girl even slightly in that relationship it’s din. i swear yall gotta SEE in that show! you gotta focus or you’ll miss it, you gotta see the way those beautiful brown eyes be beggin for someone to grab his waist i can feel it through the mask too i would not lie to y’all TRUST !! ME !!

also this is mainly just purely indulgent preference pls understand but i just can’t buy the totally submissive luke. like y’all do me a favor imagine, theatre of the mind if you will, that kind, controlled jedi but you just make him lose his mind and he has to fight not to go feral around you and just take you for him self like just LISTEN TO ME !! like imagine that gorgeous smile dropping a moment and he just glares at you and a gloved finger motions for you to come where he is, like just a hand gesture with the GLOVE!! y’all gotta think 4th dimensionally with me PLS😭😭

this is all its midnight thirty i gotta go to be but pls understand dom luke is something near and dear to my heart FR !!! also if we could not infantilize him pls (,: