#and I also miss Aemond and I just know this will cheer me up while also giving back to others ❤️

[aemonds-sapphire]

I haven’t been on here much and the joy to write is nearly gone altogether … so I want to read more.

Can someone suggest Aemond writers/fics and/or send your fics, please? 🙏❤️

[eydi-andrius]

Fool Entire III

warnings: none, a flashback, nobles being nobles but none so far

pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Highborn!Reader

summary:

If someone asked you who Prince Aemond was in your life, you probably would have said the love of your life.

Years have passed but still your heart yearns for him. 

But you were no fool.

It was a lesson learned for you not to give your heart to a man who knows nothing but duty. Highly inspired by the song Bitter Water by Oh Hellos.

a/n: well... i don't think i did well on that interview but yeah i did my best. hehe! Anyway, here it is! i'm so excited to share this with you! also, i will not do a tag list anymore as there's no changes with the reads that i have if I have them or not. you may click your notifications on for my page to get new updates

Your comments are really important to me but it is easier for me to see it if you use reblog. It will also help more readers to see my work. Thank you, lovelies! Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV

++++++++++

There was a well-known story about a young lord who was stripped off his title as heir when he pursued his dream of singing. 

He was ridiculed and was later banished. The last time the people of King's Landing heard from him was when he traveled to Essos. 

Since then, no one knows what happened to him. They believed he died singing. At least he was serenaded by his tunes before he was captured and killed by the Dothraki, the whispers have said. 

"Uncle, why are you braiding my hair so slowly?" The girl at a young age of five grumbled and pouted as she tried her best not to move so her uncle could finish fixing her hair. 

"Then why did you come for me to fix your hair? You can always ask your servant to help you with it." The young man said as he picked up the laces to lock her hair. He made sure to tighten it this time to prevent the knot from falling. 

"No way! If I come back with my hair in disarray, they will tell my teacher in etiquette about it. She will hit me again." The girl turned to his uncle with a frown. Cheeks were puffed as she pursed her lips in disapproval. 

The uncle's eyes softened at that and he sat down in front of her so their eyes would meet. 

"Then don't hesitate to come for me again so I can fix your hair, yes?" He smiled and the young one cheered and hugged him tightly. From a hug, he surrounded his arm to her tiny form and picked her up with a groan. 

"Oh darling! You sure are getting heavier!" He grumbled again when he straightened his back and heard a loud pop from the action. 

"She's growing well isn't she?" A woman wearing a gray dress sauntered forward in their direction. She was holding her round huge belly and by the looks of it, she was about to give birth soon. 

"Why are you here? I thought you're not feeling well?" The man asked with a worried look as the girl shouted "mother!" and requested to be put down so she can come running towards her. 

The girl immediately came beside the woman and held her hand. She helped her sit down at a nearby chair. 

"I am fine. I feel suffocated being in the same room for days now. A change of scenery will not hurt the babe." The woman muttered a quiet thank you to the girl with a smile. 

"And also, I missed your voice. Would you sing for me before I could have this child?" The woman smiled at the man. Before he could protest tho, the girl jumped from joy after hearing her mother's request. 

"Would you, uncle?! Please sing the song….Ahhh….that….umhh…Dragon Lullaby!" She said in a high pitched tone as she excitedly requested her new favorite song. 

The man learned that song once while staying on the Red Keep. He doesn't really know what the full meaning of the song was. He just knew that it was sung in Valyrian and it was known as Dragon Lullaby. 

With a smile and a sigh, a sign of him giving up, he opened his mouth and started singing. Soft voice echoed throughout the room. The mother closed her eyes enjoying the song while the girl started humming as she tried to imitate her uncle. 

Drakari pykiros

Tīkummo jemiros

Yn lantyz bartossa

Saelot vāedis

Hen ñuhā elēnī:

Perzyssy vestretis

Se gēlȳn irūdaks

Ānogrose-

However, the song was interrupted as footfalls echoed to the hallway. There stood the father of the girl and husband of the pregnant woman, wearing a smug grin on his face. 

"Wonderful as always brother." He clapped mockingly as he moved forward, standing beside the girl, who looked terrified as she grabbed her mother's hand. The lady cooed her and moved her nearer. 

"Brother, what brings you here?" With a tight lip, the uncle straightened and looked unsure to his younger brother's eyes. 

"Hmmmm….Father was looking for you."

"He does? Do you know why?" 

"You'll see." The younger brother grinned, too happy for the atmosphere he created. 

With an uncertain look, he bid his farewell to the girl and lady. He gulped as he walked past his brother. 

When the younger brother made sure his brother was out of earshot, the man laughed maniacally. Scaring his daughter and wife. 

With a quiver in her voice, the wife boldly asked, "Is there something amusing, dear husband?" 

"Nothing at all. Just prepare yourself to be called the lady of the house soon." He laughed while sharing the good news to her, but terrible news to the wife, who adored the older brother like her true friend. 

"What do you mean?" Eyes-widen, the lady stood up abruptly scaring the young girl beside her more. 

"Throw all of your affections away towards my older brother now. I am sure he will be banished soon." The man gave the lady a sneer before he abruptly left after dropping the announcement that shattered the woman's heart with worry. She tried to calm down her nerves but her breathing became worse.

She was heaving when she sat down and clutched her stomach. A pained groan left the lady's lips as she felt a contraction on her stomach. 

The girl's eyes widened in fear and she immediately went near her mother. She asked her many questions about what she was feeling when she felt her shoes got wet from water that came out of nowhere. She traced down the source of it with her eyes and fear overtook her when she realized where it came from. 

"Run and tell a servant that I am giving birth." Even in pain, her mother managed to tell her what she needed. With a nod, she ran towards the door and out on the hallway looking for help. 

~~~~~

"Uncle……what are you doing here?" She was feeling many emotions at once but the one that resurfaced was confusion as she frowned at the man who looks older now with grayish hair. 

Her family believed he died after he went to Essos. Not that his death was mourned by them, as her family hated him for choosing a foolish dream instead of being a lord. Her mother does though and she remembered she does too, missing his voice and the way he helped her hide that he secretly fixed her hair so the matron will not know she did not behave like a lady that day. 

She thought she'll forget his face when she gets older but she can still recognize him. His father's older brother, his mother's dear friend. He is here. Standing in front of you, alive and well.

The old man opened and closed his mouth, trying to speak but couldn't. His eyes were wide, stance quivering from relief. Until a tear left his eyes and he crumbled in front of you. 

"Oh thank the new gods! I thought of you two as dead. Many have told me to expect it but I did not believe any word they said." As his knees weakened with relief, he fell down on the floor and by instinct, you went to his side and asked for his well-being. 

"I'll go get water." You heard your sister say as she went to the kitchen. You can hear water being poured to a cup but all your attention was on your uncle. 

He was mumbling about almost losing hope he will ever find the both of you. Being a young noble lady, alone to fight the world, the chances of surviving were very slim but he did not give up.

Instead, he searched every corner of Westeros and followed any trail they provided him. He doesn't care about how tiring it was. How expensive. He cannot lose his nieces. The children of her dear friend. 

You helped him to sit back down on the nearby chair and your sister helped him to sip a cup of water to help calm him down. You asked him to breathe, slowly, in and out. And he followed you even with shaky breaths. Once he deems that he is alright, you step back and stand beside your sister. She looked at you, confused and somewhat curious. 

"I apologize for my behavior earlier. Your sister might be confused about who I am. Allow me to reintroduce myself. I am your uncle, your father's brother. The known family shame if they refuse to talk about me properly as I know my family well more than anyone." He introduced himself with a bitter chuckle.

"Oh….you are the…." Your sister raised her finger and looked at you as if asking your permission as she was uncertain to mention something rude. 

"Yes, the one who was supposed to be dead after pursuing his useless dreams. Eaten by the Dorthraki, dismembered, you name it." He said ever so casually.

"Don't be surprised that I know. The people won't stop talking about it for a while. I memorized every tale by now." You can't help but give a low chuckle on how he shared his story. The nobles will never change. And you won't be surprised if he is still under scrutiny. 

Your sister also gave a kind laugh, followed by your uncle as you three looked at each other and understood the struggle that the rumors brought into your lives. 

After a while, you three stopped laughing and you stared at your uncle. You gave him a smile before you ran towards him and gave him the biggest, warmest hug. 

"Oh! I am so glad to see you safe and sound. I myself do believe the rumors that you might be dead but I am thankful that the gods let us see each other again. Come here, Rhea. Meet our uncle. Our mother's closest confidant and friend, who has the voice of an angel and a talent in music." You gesture to your sister to come towards your direction and she did not hesitate to hug him as well. He grunts as he was surprised by your sister's weight as she gave him a tight hug. 

"I know you, uncle! And not by the rumors! Mother won't stop talking about you and she made sure that we will get only the best stories about you." She gave a wolfish grin and proudly shared the stories she heard and believed. 

Your uncle then gave a bashful smile as he made himself humble with the praises your sister keeps throwing his way. Your mother truly loved your uncle, not just a friend but also as a brother. 

However, despite the happy reunion, something keeps bugging inside your mind. As someone who was used to the slum, you must always listen to your gut instinct because it will always save you from harm. It never failed you, not even once. 

That's why after your sister and uncle talked about each other, you can't help but utter the question you wanted to ask. 

"If it was true that you lived a hard life, then I don't understand how you were able to search in every corner of Westeros, if you don't have the gold to help you with finding both of us?" Both of your sister and uncle lost their smiles as you've asked about the obvious. You cannot risk it. When he mentioned about a hard life and still living as much as he can through music, something doesn't seem right. And you have to know about it. Not that you do not trust him but you have been betrayed by the very people who swore to love and cherish you, just to be discarded the next day. You have to know. 

With the question being thrown, the atmosphere changed and your uncle looked more serious.

"I…..Rest assured that it wasn't my intention to hide any of this from the two of you. I thought, maybe, I will share this once I've got to hear your stories and you've got to hear mine but since you have asked and I don't want you to not trust me, I will share how I was able to search every corner of Westeros." His hand tightened holding the wooden cup of water. Uncertain, he tipped it unto his mouth and drank, probably for strength on whatever he had to reveal. 

"It was true that the money I used to search for the two of you came from our family." He continued as he licked his lips.

"That's impossible. The pirates seized all of our own." You denied. 

"I know. But it did come from our riches…..You see when I heard about what happened to our house, I went back to King's Landing and did my best to convince the nobles to help me take it back and find you, my nieces. However, no one batted an eye. All I got was mocking from all of them. Until he came to me." He bit his lips and worry etched on his face. 

"Who?" Curious, you asked.

"He asked me why it must be saved. And I told him the hidden mine, our family heirloom where our riches came from. It will be helpful in bringing stability to the kingdom and also will strengthen our land and sea, aside from the power the sea snake has brought to us. When he asked how I know it will still be intact after my brother's reign, I told him that even my father does not know about that reserved. My grandmother was the one who shared it with me and I hold the map for that hidden treasure. I have to reveal it because I know that's the only one that can save us and our family……I thought at first, he would not believe me, but then the next day came and we looked for it. We found the place and he assisted me in convincing the King to take back our land." He continued the story and you can't help the pang inside your chest. You can feel it gurgling inside you. You are scared of whatever this might be. 

"Who is he, uncle?" You asked again and this time, he looked you in the eye before speaking again.

"You see……the second son had no power nor land on their name. So they have to create their own. I convinced him that if he was able to defeat the pirates and grow our land back, I would give it to him and I would be his aide. And as a promising young man with ambition, he did. He was able to and the land was awarded to him. No one knows tho. As the King and King's hand were scared if he fails but despite winning, he told them to keep it a secret still. But I can't do that to you. I know what you've been through…"

Shaking your head you took a step back with labor breath, not accepting what your uncle was telling you about. 

A promising young man who was able to convince the King and King's hand….. The second son. There is no one that fits that description other than him.

"Don't tell me that you brought him here. To me….?" You asked, frightened about him appearing on your door any time he wants to. Silver hair, body clad with leather armor, eye patch intimidating anyone who crosses his path.

"No! No! No! Don't misunderstand. I never told him about today. I found the two of you by accident and coincidence. I was roaming around the street when I saw a lady wearing a familiar stitched beautiful dress. I asked her who made it because I know that style was from your mother's." He quickly defended himself but you can't help but still worry. 

"I will never force the two of you to come back to court. I know how cruel it was. How much you've suffered. However, I know that being here is much more dangerous than when you were in court. A former noble lady is a good product for a slave. I know because I've seen it first hand in Essos. I am proud of what you have accomplished by yourselves but you also must understand my worry as the streets become riddled with new dangers everyday. I will respect whatever you decide but in my heart, I hope that the three of us will be together and we can protect each other." 

You can't remove the sincere eyes of your uncle as you finally waved him goodbye when he left your home. All of the things he mentioned were true. 

And despite not seeing him for years, something inside you believes that he is being true to his words.

You would lie if you never worry about the safety of your sister as she slowly grows up as a fine lady. 

A poor woman will never survive the streets alone. Dangers will be lurking twice scarier than a man faces everyday.

You can never live with him especially since your uncle was his aide. But you are no fool not to think about it.

You have grown street smart and there's a part of you that thinks maybe living with your uncle is better than starting from the slums. 

You shook your head to remove the thought when you heard your sister's voice from behind. There will be a right time to think about that. 

Right now, you must focus on what you need to do. Finish the dresses and sell them tomorrow. You also need to buy new supplies. You reminded yourself to talk to Simon and help the two of you to carry your things.

Yet, a question remains inside your head, as to why he helped your uncle. Was it truly because of the honor or something else? You laughed at yourself for even thinking he has other motives that include you. That was from your old self, to whom you did your best to bury, who keeps resurging whenever he was mentioned.

He doesn't care.

Best to focus on you and your sister's future. 

[futuristicpenguinwizard]

Can I have some wimp of one of your Lucemond’s fic?

Aemond was severely sick. All the maesters that saw his condition said the same thing. 'The boy is with the flower sickness' which Aemond found to be another name for hormonal problems. But he didn't know why it was so bad, or why it hurted so much. He was five days straight in his bed, he couldn't even get up due to sickness. And on the seventh day it was when they started to think that it might not be a simple sickness condition. What could have caused such a thing? Nobody knew. Queen Alicent refused to let anyone but Aemond's maesters and personal servants into the chamber. She refused to let anyone see him. On the eleventh day in confinement, the whispers began, saying that Aemond had some kind of illness, an illness that can be passed from person to person and therefore the queen would not let anyone, not even her own children, into Aemond's room. And over time, when the servants began to hear the sound of ghostly steps next to the young prince's chambers, up and down the halls, always after lunch and before dinner. Many thought that perhaps the prince had an illness brought on by one of the ghosts of Red keep, but the truth was much simpler than that, Aemond received regular visits from his nephew, Lucerys. 

On that particular afternoon, the steps were tighter, faster, as if someone was in a big hurry. And indeed, Lucerys was in a hurry that day. He wouldn't stay for lunch, he would have to go traveling with his grandsire, Corlys. He was willing to see Aemond before the day after tomorrow, which was when he would finally return. Aemond heard the soft knocks of the wall. The secret knocks between him and Lucerys. He'd be lying if he said the highlight of his day wasn't waiting for Lucerys. He didn't have much to do while confined. Aemond rose from his bed and walked barefoot to where the passageway's door was. The omega then pulled up a chair, a heavy chair that made a squeaky noise when dragged across the floor. The chair stopped along with its feet in front of a wall sconce, he made a point to climb carefully onto the chair and when he stabilized himself in the chair that was shaking from the unevenness of the floor, he pulled the sconce with both hands. 

"Aemond." Lucerys's cheerful voice was quickly present in the chamber as soon as the door was opened.

"Luke, what are you doing here?" Aemond carefully climbed down from his chair. He broke away immediately in a short laugh when he saw Lucerys' smile, who was missing one of his front teeth. Aemond found it funny, especially when he whistled through the hole accidentally.

"I came to see you." Lucerys said "I brought you lemon pie." Aemond looked down at the plate in his nephew's hand. Aemond was confined within the walls of not only his room, but also of the castle, his own walls. He was a stranger to everyone, to himself, but somehow he found comfort in Lucerys, from his jokes and his small gestures. Aemond knew his mother disliked him spending too much time with Lucerys, but he felt very close to his nephew. He felt like he belonged somewhere when they talked, when they spent time together.

"We can't be alone in the room, I'm still in my nightgown."  Aemond said, taking the plate from Lucerys' hand with an almost imperceptible smile. "Give me the fork." He extended his right hand towards the boy who was just watching him carefully. Lucerys with no second thoughts gave him the fork "Thank you." Aemond walked to the couch in his room carefully, staggering a little, due to dizziness. 

"Are you alright?" Lucerys asked. It was obvious that Aemond wasn't well, but nobody told Luke how his uncle was, if he was fine, if he was eating right. People just said Aemond couldn't play with him and Arrax, which made Lucerys sad, not only because he wanted to be close to Aemond, but also because he knew that Aemond liked to be close to Arrax, he knew the boy fantasized about having a dragon, that none of his eggs had hatched so he blamed himself. Lucerys hated to see Aemond sad, maybe that was the worst part of being friends with his uncle. Aemond always carried guilt with him, he felt like he was not enough, and even Lucerys being young he understood that, and that made him as much as sad as Aemond.

"No." Aemond was simple. "My mother said I'm sick with a terrible disease." For a few seconds, Lucerys was afraid this meant the imminent death of the person he considered to be more than his best friend.

[star-girl69]

I Loved You Like the Sun

a/n: guess who sucks at action scenes? me! my apologies for this. but i hope you all enjoy anyways!!

warning: mentions of death, violence, gore, blood, fire, death, incest, swearing, tell me if i missed anything!!

Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Chapter Thirty Nine- The Meaning of Fire

—-

You only know the aftermath of war.

You know the marks on your stomach, the widening of your hips is evidence of your battle in the childbed.

You see the same in Rhaenyra. You also see the way she holds her herself- that reserved thing so unlike the princess you used to know- marred and changed by the war that was losing her mother, brother, and best friend.

You grace the scars on Daemon’s body with your hands, your mouth, your eyes. You pour over each arrow wound, each slash of a sword, demanding to know the story behind each one. He tells you of battle, of war, of death and pain. Before, you admit, it scared you a little.

But then you fought your own battles- your first marriage, child birth, your kidnapping- and you suddenly were not scared any longer. As you dive into battle, you think of your children.

—-

As Cannibal soars over the army of House Staunton, of Rook’s Rest, you feel fear for the first time.

You wonder what your children will do without you, what your husband and wife will do. You know you are not a queen, your brow is adorned with no crown, but you almost feel a possessiveness to the Realm, as well. A protectiveness. And while perhaps you will not do the most of the protecting, the simple fact is you hold Daemon and Rhaenyra’s heart in your hands.

It is simple, for them, to give you everything you want. (Except for permission to put yourself in danger, of course.) A million chocolate cakes will be made upon your word, a thousand men will die if you so choose, and you know you could spend your entire days wrapped up in blankets and pillows, entertained by books and songs, waiting until your dragons returned from their duties. (You think they would prefer the last option, but you are a dragon like them. There is fire in you, fire that they made, and they would do well not to forget it.)

The men below you cheer, the men in front of you cower. You are so close to them- only a few more seconds.

Aemond is most likely hiding, waiting until Cannibal and Meleys have tired themsleves, but he underestimates you.

He kidnapped you, isolated you, watched as a man died in your arms. He disrespected you, forced you to kill a man and feel the blood on your hands. He caused such strife for your family, and then men who serve him would do the same.

Your eyes narrow, your resolve hardens.

You are the Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms. You will have your revenge, just as your paramours do.

Legs bent, looking out over the enemy, the endless ranks of men, it only takes a second for you to say it.

“Dracarys.”

It is one of the first words you learned in High Valyrian. Everyone who hears it knows death will soon be upon them.

Rhaenyra once said that the realm would know the meaning of fire. Instead, you teach it now, uttering your lesson over the sound of men screaming and fire roaring. You ride a dragon, you are a dragon, and you fade into one with the beast below you.

Your fears fade, replaced by the freedom of flying. You feel powerful, drunk on blood, on fire, and you think that now, more than you ever have been, you are truly a Targaryen.

Barely giving the fire time to douse, the Black forces charge, through the fire, through the bloodshed, through to the disarrayed forces of the Greens.

They do not care about the Realm, about their soldiers. When the Blacks send men to their deaths, they do so with remorse and the promise that dragons will be there, so at least the place of their death will be remembered. The Greens let their men burn.

Some of the Green forces remain intact, the sections not burning or bombarded upon by the soldiers you fight with, and you see they ready your weapons as you and Rhaenys circle each other. It is almost foolish that weapons should be able to reach you. Now when you are this high, not when you are closer to gods than men. Not when you are Targaryens.

The arrows and spears come, but Cannibal and Meleys are too large for it to be more than pinpricks. You almost laugh, thinking this is too easy. You would fight everyday if it felt like this. Like freedom, like power.

Vhagar roars, and you can feel Cannibal tense.

“Gīda, Cannibal, gīda.” You coo, and the dragon huffs but heeds your command. (Calm, Cannibal, Calm.)

To him, it is simple. He lost you, and Vhagar was there when you were taken. To him, revenge is easy. Second nature.

It is starting to become like that to you as well.

You feel the heat of fire rise, growing by the second as Meleys breathes more- most likely annoyed by the arrows- you look out to the horizon.

Vhagar rides toward you, Aemond atop her, the sun to his back. If you were not a dragon yourself (with each passing moment, each pained scream, each roar of fire, you become more and more comfortable with that fact) you might be scared.

Instead, you huff, feel Cannibal reel beneath you, practically salivating for your command. You do not even have to say it- he is shooting forward through the sky, forward, forward, forward until you can clearly see Aemond.

You cannot see his expression- but you hope he is scared. You hope his Hightower blood is strong, and he remembers that while he is a dragon- at his core, it is only a lantern that burns. Your viens are practically overfilling with fire, and the red benewth your skin is no longer just blood. It is dragonblood. Your skin is dragonscales, your teeth are dragonteeth, you are fire, fire, fire.

Cannibal stretches his wings, and you are so close to them now, and when you look up you see Aemond’s eye fixed on you.

Vhagar screeches as the tip of Cannibal’s spiked wing trails across her stomach.

You turn, sharply, quickly, facing them. You know better than to turn your back to a dragon. Vhagar does the same, and suddenly you are careening towards the old dragon, so fast you can feel the wind whistling in your ears. Vhagar breathes a puff of fire, but you are coming too fast, and it is a weak plume, a last ditch attempt, and you fleeting think that it will finally happen.

Cannibal will rip out Vhagar’s throat, and Aemond would fall to the ground with her. The Greens would lose their biggest advantage. Rhaenyra and Daemon would forgive you- would have to forgive you, because you are the Queen and it is not a crime to protect your realm, protect Rhaenyra’s crown.

Even as you willing fly towards Vhagar, you are still thinking of them. Still hoping they forgive you. Still hoping they see your side.

You can just make out Aemond’s face, but not the expression on it, when suddenly Cannibal roars and dives down, toward the ground, and you suddenly realize it is you who will die.

You are foolish, thinking you could win a battle, thinking you could do anything other than be a pretty face with a meaningless crown on your heard, anything more than a womb and something for them to take their frustrations out on.

But you don’t die.

Instead, Cannibal lifts up and turns, and you are met with Vhagar, lazy in her turn, and…

Sunfyre.

You gasp, look around anxiously for Rhaenys, knowing that in this fight, you stand no chance. But she is beside you, suddenly, and Meleys is hissing and clicking. Cannibal roars again, and you look over your shoulder to see a bite mark in his leg.

Suddenly, the fire inside is raging, swirling and roaring, and you are bracing yourself and looking at Rhaenys. You can barely make out her hand raising before you are urging Cannibal forward, cutting through the wind.

The two traitors wait for you, making you come for them, and it only makes your brow furrow and your bottom lip curl in pure anger. They will know the meaning of fire.

“Dracarys!” You scream just as you reach them, and they are both bathed in flame for one precious moment, before it falls and it is your opening. They are disoriented, blinded by the blast, and you slam into Vhagar so fast you cannot even blink.

Cannibal bites into the meat of her shoulder, and she howls, and you almost feel bad, but then you remember that if you do not kill her, she will kill you.

Vhagar throws her head back, just as the force of Meleys and Sunfyre collide into the two of you. And suddenly you are all falling, wings of dragons flapping wildly, the sound of screaming, of various shouts in High Valyrian, the wind whistling in your ears, when suddenly Cannibal manages to unfurl his wings, and the pure surface area of them slows your descent just that much.

The mess of dragons is falling below you know, only yards from the ground, when Meleys suddenly throws herself to the side and the two brothers are left to slam to the ground on their own.

Meleys slams to the ground next, and you follow on Cannibal, ash in your hair and your face, the slam of him under you causing your grip to slip, but you just manage to hang on.

You do not know if Aegon and Aemond are dead. Of Sunfyre and Vhagar are. You do not even know if Rhaenys and Meleys are alive.

You see a red dragon circle above you, but the neck is too long to be Meleys. Caraxes has come for you, and so has his rider.

—-

taglist:

@wondergal2001 @akiraquote @a-lil-bit-nuts @anginoguera @thatkinkylesgirl1 @stitchattacks @honeypillowsblog @kaloafd @blackhoodlea @softtina @wallace02sblog @tetgod @hotd-fanfic @rxscpctals @iramagnus