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an-abyss-of-stars · 2 years ago

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He Saw Her At Daybreak - Part 4

Summary: Even perfect weddings have their bitter endings…

Warnings: SMUTTTT SMUTTY SMUT! Also violence and blood near the end!

Tag list: @minim236 , @bohemiandreams99 , @neocil , @nettysnest , @avidreader73 , @jordanjanellejoy , @azaleapotterblack , @yourlittlehoe , @partypoison00 , (feel free to tell me if you want to be on the taglist or not)

P.S. CRYINGGGG I'M BACKKKK!!

PLEASE I'M SO SORRY IT'S BEEN AGESSS!!

I don't what's been going on with me lately, like I have all these ideas ready to GO! But I just can't seem to really focus and work on them? Like the will and energy to WRITE them has been absent. SO it's got me delivering these chapters super slowly right now. I'm hoping my motivation picks up, because I'd really love to move this fic along a whole lot faster!

Anywaysss LONG AWAITED, here it is! I've been labouring over this one for like a month! I hope it's good! It's a WILD one!

When the golden hour finally fell upon Dragonstone, it broke through the whirling thick storm clouds that currently cascaded the skies. It burned deep orange rays down through the shattered cracks in the sky and here on the Dragon Mound the rays shone brightly. Off in the distance the spotty rays looked hazy and heavenly, as if the Gods were truly bearing witness to this union. For once more, two dragons would vow their lives to one another, bond themselves through fire and blood till the end of their days.

And that's how Aemond stood, dressed in the traditional pale ivory robes of his Valyrian ancestors, the tips of his sleeves and the ends of his robes looked to have been dipped in an intensely red dye, mimicking dried flame-like blood. His long pale hair was left undone, combed neatly, half held back by a golden dragon pin as his black velvet eyepatch stood in stark contrast to everything else.

He'd heard of the robes beforehand, read in great detail as much as he could about the ceremony entirely, but to finally stand here...in the traditional garb...it all felt so fitting for House Targaryen.

Fire and Blood.

There was no real way to explain it, how right it felt to wear these robes. How utterly connected he felt to his roots...to his bloodline...his ancestors, it was like a wave...a surge of energy. For once everything felt right, surrounded by his family, his parents, his siblings as well as his nieces and nephews...he could even see all of their dragons grazing nearby further up the Mound on the grassy plain.

Aemond was not one to be sentimental, but surely if he squinted enough, this was certainly what Old Valyria must have been like. Or maybe even simply just the era afterwards, in the days of Daenys and her bonded Balerion...before Aegon and his sister-wives Rhaenys and Visenya thought to conquer and unite the realm. If he closed his eyes and really listened, listened to the hollow whispers in the evening breeze, The Fourteen Flames all here now, waiting, listening, watching as so many gathered together.

For this ceremony, apparently the whole of their family was required...well everyone of Valyrian heritage...of course with the exception of his mother who had none. Even the little ones were all present, Jaehaera, Jaehaerys, Maelor, Joffrey, Aegon III, Viserys II and Aethan all donning small simple black hoods. While Rhaenyra and his mother had changed into darker toned versions of their gowns they'd worn previously, Lucerys and Jacaerys had both worn similarly deep red doublets and black breeches, while Helaena wore a pale silver shimmering gown as Baela wore a deep rich navy gown. Daeron and Aegon had both worn simple black doublets and breeches. While Rhaenys wore a vibrant sea blue gown that complimented Corlys dark ocean blue doublet.

Although as Aemond suspected, Otto Hightower had not been invited to this ceremony, thankfully so. He couldn't say who made the decision, certainly his mother may not wish to have her father present, but Aemond would wager the final decision had probably rested with Rhaenyra and or Daemon.

And if they knew of Otto's possible plots, then they'd probably both agreed it was best to keep him away.

The waiting was probably the most agitating factor with this ceremony. The Faith's wedding was mostly for show and for the realm’s stamp of legitimacy ; they'd been surrounded by mostly insignificant witnesses who were there just to witness the spectacle of a royal wedding.

But this was the ceremony Aemond had been waiting for.

This was the ceremony that mattered most to him, to their family...to their ancestors. Aemond had already observed the golden talismans for all Fourteen Flames; he'd noticed how vastly different this altar was compared to the altar of The Seven. How several multi-coloured melted candles were scattered upon it, along with other blessed objects and alike. Finally he noticed the elegantly sculpted black chalice and the ornate dragon glass blade.

He recognized most of these objects from his readings, based on either their descriptions or the rough sketched illustrations.

Aemond made sure to keep his shoulders and posture straight as he waited for his wife to join him, with his hands clasped behind his back, the longer he waited, the further up his hands went. Now more or less holding onto his forearms if not his elbows.

The sun was beginning to lower slightly beyond the horizon, when a slight breeze brought the chittering rumble of a dragon that could not be mistaken.

His uncle's legendary mount, the Blood Wyrm, Caraxes.

Shimmering a glorious blood red as he crept and crawled along the grassy plain, he didn't plan on ever telling his uncle...but from the stories he'd heard as a young boy, he'd always thought Caraxes a most magnificent beast. Especially since he lost his eye, the fact that such a large creature who held his own impediments due to birth defects, could still become one of the most fearsome of dragons ever to be known.

It was slightly inspirational.

Feared and rejected by all other dragons... except his precious Syrax.

It seemed even now, Aemond could draw comparisons between himself and the dragon.

But in this moment, it seemed clear that something else was happening here...if Caraxes' attention was drawn...then that meant Daemon was nearby.

And soon enough, just as Aemond thought, finally emerging up onto the mound, Rhaena stepped up the slight inslope with her father at her side, guiding her way with her hand safely tucked on his arm.

Unlike The Faith's ceremony, Aemond couldn't say he knew exactly what to expect here. The history books and hidden ancestors' diaries only say so much, so he planned on keeping a keen eye. Watching as Daemon delivered his daughter to the point of the mound, giving his slightly reluctant nod of approval towards Aemond, and this time, acknowledging the priest with a nod of recognition as well.

Once he had, Daemon made his way over to stand by his wife and children. For his part, he was dressed in a similar set of clothing as he had for the wedding ceremony earlier in the day. Caraxes' settled as soon as his bonded had, allowing Aemond to focus on his betrothed before him.

Dressed in the same robes he was, only...her hair, she'd had her hair cut. Her lovely long silver locs were no more, as now she sported her pale thick ringlet curls at a bob-like length. Stylishly falling over her forehead and framing her face, he found himself staring in awe of her. He knew her natural curls would suit her well...he just was not expecting this…to see her with them only. It seemed like she was glowing and shimmering. Her pale hair was illuminated by the setting sun, as was the golden headdress she wore.

It was plated much like a classic crown of old, with beaded strands that weaved around in Valyrian symbols before looping down the sides of her face.

Once again he felt as if he stood before a living Goddess, illuminescent and glistening.

As if they were standing here, hundreds of years ago back in Old Valyria, and somehow he'd managed to convince a Queen of Old to want him...to love him.

Her gem-like eyes flashed up at him with the smallest of playful smiles, he knew he'd been staring, but now he was certain he must've looked slack jawed and lost in her visage.

Aemond softly cleared his throat, and blinked away from her for just a moment as his cheeks burned and his jaw clenched. In that time the priest, a solemn man with greying hair combed neatly back and a grizzled beard to match, had stepped towards them, dressed in smokey grey robes, with a Valyrian holy symbol embroidered upon his deep tan tunic. He'd already lit the fire pyres with two other darkly robed servants of the faith.

It was time.

The priest stepped towards Rhaena first, with a light bow, he handed her the blade made of dragon glass, as he spoke ceremoniously, "hen lantoti ānogar. Va syndroti väedroma..." blood of two. Joined as one. His words were not projected for their family to hear, in fact the words didn't seem to be entirely directed towards Aemond or Rhaena either. The priest may have been looking upon them, but Aemond could feel that these vows were for the Gods to hear. It was easy to invoke the names of The Seven, but The Fourteen Flames needed true vows...an offering of blood need be made to truly have their blessings.

In that time Rhaena had stepped closer to Aemond, with the blade in hand she raised it to his face. He felt completely at her mercy for while he knew they were to cut one another, he did not know where and how they were to do it. ‘ A cut on the face and hands’ were vague descriptions as far as Aemond was concerned.

Slowly, she brought the blade to his lower lip, letting the cool sharp edge draw metallic blood from him. He did not flinch, he only eyed her intensely as she lowered the blade and pressed the soft pad of her thumb against the fresh wound. Her thumb softly tracing a symbol upon his forehead...the Valryian symbol for 'blood'.

He hadn't realized he'd held his breath as she completed the act, until she was handing him the blade. With a deep breath, it was his turn to return the action. And he did so, taking the blade from her he tentatively drew a cut down the center of her lower lip, before pressing his thumb against the dripping slice and drawing the Valyrian symbol for ‘fire' on the center of her forehead, the one spot her curls weren't covering.

They were allowed a moment, it seemed, to let it all sink in, let the sting of these fresh wounds burn in the evening breeze and the priest continued the spoken vows, "mēro perzot gihoti. Elēdroma iārza sīr. Izulī ampā perzi. Prūmī lanti sēteksi..." ghostly flame. And song of shadows. Two hearts as embers. Forged in fourteen fires .

Maybe it was just his imagination, but the pires seemed to be burning brighter, the sun now halfway set over the horizon burned a deep saturated blood red.

Handing the blade back to Rhaena, he watched as she cut a curving line down the center of her right palm, he then did the same when he took the blade. The priest had initially stepped back as they performed their actions, but soon enough he stepped forward again to receive the blade and place it back upon the altar with great respect and reverence.

He returned with the sculpted black chalice, it looked to be carved from the Dragon Mount itself, the darkest of blacks, shimmering with deeply embedded shards of Obsidian. With a slight nod, Rhaena lifted her wounded hand to meet his, and together they clasped them over the chalice.

Aemond's eye never left hers, her pale amethyst eyes peered into his with an intensity he rarely saw outside of their private more intimate moments. As their blood burned together, mixing and truly bonding...his heart began thumping harshly within his chest.

They kept their hands clasped together as the priest stepped around them, and held the chalice with their shared blood up to the burning pyres, then to the golden talismans of The Fourteen Flames. All while speaking the final verses of their vows, "hen jený māzīlarion. Qēlossa ozundesi. Syndroro ōño jedo. Rý kīvia mazvestraksi..." a future promised in glass. The stars stand witness. The vow spoken through time. Of darkness and light.

When he returned before them, he offered the chalice to Aemond first. With only slight hesitance, he reached for it, and brought the edge to his lips, letting the warm stannic flavour cascade over his tongue and down his throat. He felt his body surge, now fully truly bonded to his dragoness. Once he handed her the chalice, she smoothly did the same, finishing the other half before returning the chalice for the priest.

This time he did not wait for the priest to bid whether it was time or not, he knew it was. He'd felt it long before now, how everything around them burned and soared. With his free hand, he reached down for her cheek and claimed her lips fiercely, tasting their savory shared blood on her tongue. The instant contact alone had his whole body surging with pure ecstasy, sparkling and tingling with what felt like sacred energy.

He could hear Vhagar keen happily in the distance as well as Syrax and Caraxes pleasant chittering. Tesarrion was vocal, as well Sunfrye and Dreamfyre, Tyraxes and Vermax. So many dragons...all accepting of this union.

The Fourteen Flames had certainly blessed them.

When they finally separated, he let out a shuddering breath as he gazed into her eyes. Her soft hand caressing his cheek then chin, her lips pulling into a small smile just as his faintly did the same.

Finally his Valyrian bride...was truly his Valyrian wife. Bonded to each other for the rest of their lives, seen and blessed by all Gods, Old and New.

“Mēre ñelly, mēre prūmia, mēre soul, sir se syt mirre,” One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.

☾

Now, Aemond had meant what he said earlier in the day. The moment their wedding ceremony had concluded, and they'd changed out of their traditional robes, he stole his wife away and snuck her through to the secret tunnels, letting her lead them back to the Dragon Mound.

Dressed now in just a simple black cotton silk shirt and black leather breeches, while his wife had borrowed one of his grey cotton shirts and a long black cloak…per his request. The shirt itself already reached just below her knees, but with the cloak she was entirely covered, not that many would see them slip into the tunnels. But more importantly Aemond was thinking ahead, his grandfather's meddling or potential to meddle, was wearing on him. Surely the old man had missed his chance, but nothing was certain.

The Fourteen Flames had blessed them, of that, he was certain. The flames had burned so bright, so unnaturally hot, it had to be a sign, the way their family's dragons all roared and sung for them…a sound he'd never heard done in such unison.

This was fate, he'd decided it had to be.

All those years of suffering at court surrounded by cruel plain looking Ladies, useless lower born daughters who'd never meant anything to him.

He always knew he deserved better, deep down, he knew. A Valyrian Prince like himself deserved no less than a true Valryian Princess.

And now he had her.

Body and soul, recognized by all. His dragoness, the one woman who was somehow his total opposite…yet he'd found so much comfort and similarity in her all the same. She was his other half, every single moment in her presence proved that. Even when she hated him, she loved him.

And now he could take solace in their shared matching scars, their vows physically engraved on their skin, his true mate.

It was uncertain before her, his future, he'd never cared to think that far ahead since it was always clear to him that his mother and grandfather sought to plan it out for him.

But now it was his…his and his wife's.

And he'd do everything in his power to protect her…protect their union…protect their future. So he had a plan for tonight, well, less of a plan and more of a promise. Wedding nights were usually reserved for claiming maidenheads, rituals and all. But seeing how he'd claimed Rhaena's over a moon ago, tonight would have to be made special another way.

Vhagar would play her part in that.

Aemond had never taken a woman atop Vhagar before, he’d never had any true mistresses and he certainly would have never granted a whore such a luxury. But this was different now, he’d flown with Rhaena before and as he planned to take Rhaena to a small island for the rest of their night, he was certain pleasuring his newly wed Princess upon the beast would be quite memorable. And with her only dressed in one of his shirts…well, in that sense he'd given himself easy access to her.

He had only one goal for their honeymoon, which as far as he was concerned started now. Otto could try and reenact his plan at any moment, and while Aemond knew the rest of his family was vehemently against his grandfather, it would help to have an assurance. And he figured the sooner his Lady could just give him a sign that she was indeed carrying his child…the sooner that assurance would be had. Not that it would stop Otto entirely, if the old man could care less about Aemond as his grandson rather than just a pawn to use, he knew he wouldn’t treat his great-grandchild any differently. But Daemon most certainly would, as much as Aemond wanted Rhaena heavy with his child for personal reasons, the fact itself would add an extra incentive for Daemon to protect both his daughter and grandchild. That applied to Rhaenyra as well, it applied to the rest of his family in various ways to be fair.

As they rounded the last corner, Rhaena’s hand held tightly in his, they stepped outside and began climbing the steep hill up and onto the grassy plains beyond the Dragon Mound. The sky had grown darker, the puffy smokey clouds looking more and more like an oncoming storm was soon to arrive. But those beautiful cracks in the sky still shone through, deeply inked oranges and reds as it cooled in a slight purple-ish tone on the eastern side of the sky.

"You know my grandparents really are coming around on you. I think I even saw my grandmother with tears in her eyes during the ceremony," Rhaena remarked, she'd been a step behind him, so he was made to glance back at her as her soft voice broke their silence.

"Tears of joy or painful heartbreak?" He grinned, a slight vindictive edge to his tone, "I don't recall her being very fond of me to begin with,"

"Well that is what happens when you wound all of one woman's grandchildren on the night of her precious daughter's funeral," she eyed playfully, but her tone was still biting. They may have moved past this, but it still stung at times. He didn't regret the entire night, he couldn't bring himself to do that. But he did regret hurting her specifically that night, that much he could manage.

"Even though I left that fight as the most wounded party…but fair enough. I already apologized to her when I asked for her blessing," he found himself too dazed by his dragoness to be bitter now. Her lovely silver curls, blowing against her cheeks with the evening breeze. He needed to look away if he wished to have any hope of focusing on anything else. He zeroed his gaze on all the dragons in the distance, "if anything I was even more courteous with your grandparents than your father."

"That is true," his Princess hummed, “though seeing as my father held a sword to your throat, it is understandable,” her tone lightened as she moved her pace up, trying to match the long strides he was taking though her shorter legs would not allow her to. Aemond found himself glancing over at her as she naturally leaned into him, smirking knowingly up at him, "stay focused, my Prince. We are surrounded ,"

She was being playful, but she was right. In either case, he was not bothered by it, guiding her with a casual confidence, narrowly slipping through the lazily sleepy and grazing dragons of their family. These dragons knew their scents, could easily sense their blood to be of no threat to them, they were safe enough.

"But she does like you," she whispered a moment later, as if she hoped not to wake the dragons, "my grandmother I mean, I think she especially loves how you remind her of my father, she enjoys how you irritate and provoke him with ease. She's called it divine karma ."

The idea of the cold regal austere Princess Rhaenys Targaryen having any sort of fondness for him certainly felt odd. But the reason behind it seemed humorous enough.

"Is that so," Aemond's voice trailed as he kept his eye out for his mountainous mount, "well at least she no longer lusts for my head on a spike."

That seemed to have made his Princess giggle, the bright airy sound made his blood sing, "Aemond! She hasn’t wished for that…for at least some time now. And it matters not. You're certainly in her good books now. All she cares for is my happiness, and since you very much make me happy…she's grown fonder of you.”

“I’ll take your word for it, sweet girl,” a genuine smile ghosted over his lips as he spotted Vhagar was just up ahead. Further on the hill she kept to herself away from all the other dragons. A lone creature…much like Aemond himself…or at least how he once was.

“Good,” Rhaena smiled over at him, “in either case, she always knew it wasn't my wish to be so far away from my family…or to truly be the future Lady of Driftmark . I think she’s glad our marriage will keep us close, here at Dragonstone, the distance isn’t too far from Driftmark or King’s Landing."

He stopped to face his wife, catching her eye when she realized he was no longer walking. In that moment, the way the fading daylight seemed to glitter over her as she stood in his loose fitting cotton shirt. The way the black cloak hung off her shoulders, contrasting greatly with her illuminating silver curls and her bright violet eyes. It was a wonder he hadn't lost control of himself already, the tantalizing idea of forgoing everything and just taking her in this field surrounded by the ancient beasts of their family.

"What is it," she breathed, eyes beginning to shine with a twinkle of concern. She'd never know what she did to him, just how affected he was sometimes by his Princess.

Aemond swallowed tightly, forgetting the conversation they were having as his eye trailed down to the still fresh cut down the center of her lower lip. A cut he gave her, a permanent mark along with the now wrapped cut on the hand he held. Without thinking he'd reached for her cheek, still not answering her question, as nothing was wrong. He just wanted to stop…for just a moment and let it all sink in. As he caressed her incredibly soft cheek, bringing his thumb to trail along her lip and down to clutch onto her chin.

All the while she'd simply gazed up at him, never flinching away from him, only ever leaning into him, close as ever.

With a small smile, her tongue darted out to the corner of her mouth, "you're wasting daylight, my love," she teased.

"Is that so," he nearly gritted, his jaw hardening as he tilted her chin up. Words repeating in his mind like a mantra: don't take her here in this field, wait at least until you're up in the skies. Patience was key and he could muster just a little bit more.

With a deep sigh, he leaned his forehead down against hers, breathing her in, feeling her warmth, "I've dreamt of this. You, here with me, as my wife officially, entirely mine…" his voice remained low, smooth as silk. To be fair, in his dreams he imagined standing here with her and their child in his arms…but that would come soon enough. For now, he’d closed his eye, just content to live in this moment.

She hummed as her small hands had found their way around his waist, pulling him closer, "it is real now, I am your wife and you are my husband. I am yours and you are mine ."

Her affirmation set him alight, enough to lean himself down and take her soft lips. Feeling the sting of her lips pressing against his sliced lip, her saliva burning him as he tasted sweet wine on her tongue. It took everything in him to pull himself back from her, breathing heavily, willing himself to simply take her hand and guide her towards Vhagar.

Even though the little smile she'd flashed him had sent electricity straight through his body, sparking in his lower abdomen, making his cock stiffen.

A feeling he did his best to ignore for now.

Once they reached Vhagar, his enormous she-beast, a true ancient relic from the old world. She seemed to be napping soundly, loud snores rumbling through her nostrils.

Aemond kept a tight hold on Rhaena's hand, she tended to step away from Vhagar instinctively, even though by now she knew the old dragon was comfortable with her (she always had been) and there was no real danger for her here. He could already feel her tense as they'd weeded their way through the other dragons. And now here standing before Vhagar, she’d all but shielded herself behind him. He knew her relationship with his mount was a complicated one, but he sought to mend things between the two over time. She was slowly beginning to grow more comfortable around the ancient dragon in either case. From his own observation, and as he'd told Rhaena before their first flight. Vhagar could smell her true mother's blood within her, Lady Laena was a respected and beloved mount to Vhagar, of course she remembered and would be fond of any offspring of hers.

Vhagar certainly seemed to always enjoy Rhaena's compliments over his anyhow.

Aemond pulled his little wife in front of him, pressing his hand against the heated neck of his bonded dragon, "Vhagar, ñuha pendagon, nyke gīmigon iksā raqagon aōha ēdrugon..." my wonder, I know you are enjoying your sleep...

He received a rustling grumble as a response, that at least told him she'd awoken. Moving closer, he snaked his arm around his wife's small waist, guiding one of her hands to place against Vhagar, "Nyke maghatan ñuha ābrazȳrys lēda nyke, nyke gīmigon skorkydoso olvie ao hae zirȳla," I brought my wife with me, I know how much you like her . At that Vhagar turned to sniff them, letting out a warm jovial rumble as a sign her approval.

He could feel when Rhaena let out the deep breath she was holding in, as she untangled herself from him and cautiously made her way over to stand in Vhagar's line of sight.

She slid her hood down then held her hands behind her back, softly smiling up at Vhagar as she spoke, "rytsa gevie riña, Skorkydoso glaesā?" hi beautiful girl, how are you? , Vhagar keened and cooed low rumbling purs that seemed very much like an avid response. Ruffling her body, as she shook herself in preparation.

If Aemond found himself fondly watching his little wife speak to his dragon, he didn't draw any attention to it. Leaning casually against the massive side of his mount, he watched with great amusement as his Princess patted and hugged Vhagar's snout.

"Aemond se nyke sia dīnilūks tubī,” Aemond and I were married today , she beamed and swayed, “Iksan sure bona aderī konīr kessa sagon byka ‘zaldrīzoti’ syt ao naejot rhaenagon," I am sure that soon there will be little ‘dragons’ for you to meet , Vhagar nuzzled her snout against his Princess. Although once Rhaena locked eyes with Aemond it seemed she remembered what they came here to do, "oh kessa, kessa īlon sōvegon pār?" oh yes, shall we fly then?

With an agreed rumble, Vhagar lowered herself to be mounted. As Rhaena made her way back over to Aemond, she bit her lip trying to hide her excitement, "I think she was quite happy to see me today,"

"I always tell you she's happy to see you, I'm certain she regards us as her own little hatchlings," he smirked, crossing his arms as she stepped in front of him.

She was certainly a sight, her cloak kept blowing open in the evening breeze and he found she looked far too attractive dressed in his shirt, nearly drowning it yet fitting in it all the same. The way the smooth tawny skin of her calves were all exposed until the tops of her dark leather boots covered the rest of her ankles. He was glad all the other visiting Lords had left earlier in the day...that this sight was all his.

Once she was close enough, he pulled her to him, unable to resist the urge to taste her soft lips again. Letting his fingers slip through her incredibly soft curls as his tongue roved over hers, breaking from her lips long enough to grin, "I think I also just heard you promise to introduce our future children to her,"

"Well...I think it's fair to assume you plan to take our children on many flights upon her," Rhaena panted softly, "if she thinks of us as her hatchlings...she'd want to see her grandchildren ..."

It was the way she said things like that, that made Aemond's body burn, made his heart soar with what he dared to recognize as pure happiness. Every time they'd spoken of children before, it was more about how he'd claimed her, the ultimate form of possession to have her carry his child.

She'd often spur him on with the promise of 'fucking a child into her' .

But this was real...this was an unprompted admission that she truly wanted this with him. A future, a family...she wanted to carry his children...to be the mother of his children. It shouldn't have dawned such a new sense of realization for him, for the past moon all she'd ever done was choose him.

She'd chosen him over everyone and everything else.

Sometimes it was just hard to believe that this was real, cemented as reality, he needn't fantasize anymore.

As his eye flicked over her, drawn back to her hypnotic eyes, he took her lips again. Feeling as her hands caressed his lower back, gripping onto his shirt as she gently pulled herself back with a smile, "I'm not entirely certain what you have planned, but the sun will certainly be gone entirely if we don't leave now."

What she didn't know was that Aemond didn't necessarily need the sun for his plans to succeed, he already had a vague idea of where he'd like to fly her. But he supposed having her witness a true sunset from atop Vhagar was a part of his goal to romance her.

With a reluctant groan, he shifted her hips towards the netted rope that cascaded down Vhagar's side, lifting her a few rows up so she could start climbing from a higher starting point.

He watched her carefully, making sure she had her footing as well as being prepared in case she slipped. When he was sure she was fine, he made his way up behind her.

As Rhaena seated herself atop Vhagar's saddle, Aemond closed the distance, in one smooth motion he'd practiced dozens of times before on his own, he managed to settle himself perfectly behind her. Pressing himself against her soft body, letting his legs cradle around hers as his arms reached around her waist to grasp onto the reins. He could feel as she pressed her back against him, her shoulders resting back against his chest as she placed her hands on his knees. Aemond felt somewhat emboldened in the moment, sitting atop his legendary mount with his Valyrian Princess, his wife, the woman he'd get to spend the rest of his life with.

In an effort to break his longing gaze from her, he moved even closer to her, leaning just slightly so he could press a soft kiss to the side of her exposed neck, "hold on tight to me," he'd whispered against her skin.

Rhaena leaned into him, doing as he bade and gripping into his thighs. Once he felt that they were sufficiently secured, he finally uttered the command, "Sōvēs, Vhagar," fly, Vhagar .

At that, Vhagar's enormous form ruffled and shifted, she took a few heavy earth shaking steps working her momentum enough to spread her wings and lift them into the air. The force of her flight was always intense in the take off, Aemond tightened his grip on the reins with his right hand, as his left hand wrapped around Rhaena's waist, his hand holding her firmly against him.

And with that they were off.

☾

There was always an instant sense of adrenaline that pumped through his veins whenever he took to the skies, flying was a pleasure that seeped through his veins and set his entire being on fire. Having his Princess in his arms only amplified the feeling, burning entirely as the feel of her soft body pressing against him sent sparks trailing up his spine. Aemond tried to will his breaths to remain calm, even as his grip around her waist tightened. His erection was growing by the second, but he did his best to focus his mind on flying for the moment, his voice growing rough with need, "naejot, Vhagar," forward, Vhagar . Pulling on the reins, he guided her up further into the sky.

The chilling wind whipped against them as they soared higher, the air grew thinner but there was a specific sight he wanted to show her.

"Just how high must we fly!" Rhaena tried to speak above the rushing wind, turning slightly as her curls ruffled.

"I'm romancing you, remember. Now close your eyes." he grinned, he leaned into her as Vhagar's wings flapped harder, forcing more power and speed enough to finally break through the surface of the thick storm clouds.

It dampened them just a bit, but with a deep breath, they'd finally reached it. The true sky, bleeding vibrant swirling pinks, oranges and reds, cascading purples to deep indigo... harmonious in its beauty as the last part of the burning crimson sun tipped over the horizon.

A pure sense of calm washed over Aemond as Vhagar evened out her own weight, now soaring peacefully.

"Open your eyes," he whispered huskily by her ear, and once he had, he heard her gasp. Her shoulders rose as her body tensed against him, her grip on his thighs slowly loosening as she looked all around the sky.

"Aemond," her voice was all soft and breathy, full of wonder, completely awestruck. He didn't have to see her face to know that she'd loved this, but hearing her voice as it was certainly made his pride soar. Soon enough he felt her shifting herself, turning in her seat until she could view him truly. That was when he noticed the faint tear streaks on her flushed cheeks, causing his heart to stutter.

Surely these must be good tears.

Like when he gifted her the Valyrian necklace she prized so much.

"It's beautiful. I think this is most lovely... wonderous... perfect... I- I've never seen such beauty," she breathed, reaching for his cheek. Maybe she hadn't, but he was certain everyday he was afforded the pleasure of looking upon her...any time she'd deign to look upon him with the amount of light and love that she had in her eyes at this very moment.

The view of this sky was nice, but his view of her was so much more.

When his Princess pulled him down to her lips with ease, for he would surely not resist her, she'd kissed him so lovingly. Her arm fell over his shoulder as her hand sunk into his loose untied hair. He was already burning for her, his heart crashing within chest all because of her.

Gods, this had to be the moment, the perfect time to pull her onto his lap and take her atop Vhagar.

As his wife moaned against him, he sought her tongue out skillfully, simultaneously distracting her as he loosened his grip on the reins enough to secure her right thigh against his. He let his left hand trail down the curves of her waist, grabbing ahold of her left thigh and draping it over his own, spreading her widely for him. She'd turned enough for her back to rest against the sturdy guard that was his right arm. Through it all, she hadn't stopped to question him, only gripping onto his shoulder with her left hand as he slid his own down her center, smoothly sliding his hand up and underneath her shirt then beneath the waistband of her underclothes.

"Aemond!" she'd finally gasped against his lips, her pale eyes finally locking with his indigo eye, "surely we cannot…not on Vhagar's back..."

Now the whining uncertainty may have been what her lips were saying, but her eyes had shone with something else all together. Undeterred, his fingers ventured on sliding down until he found her core wet and wanting for him. His dragoness, he didn't know why she bothered to attempt denial when her body always told a different story.

She was biting her lip, whimpering and his index finger circled around her sensitive little bud, "mmm, little wife. I promise you Vhagar will not mind it."

He wasn't entirely sure of that, it wasn't as if he'd ever attempted to touch her intimately the last time they flew together on Vhagar. But Aemond was certain that Vhagar, being as old as she was, must have witnessed or known things of this nature to occur. In either case, all of Rhaena’s little whines and whimpers only spurred him on further, her sounds had hardened his cock within his breeches.And watching his dragoness buck against his hand with just the slightest of touches was not helping him keep composure. With her arm slung over his shoulder, now reaching to grasp his silk shirt as her other hand gripped into his thigh.

Surely she wanted more, it was obvious that she did.

"You still wish for me to stop?" he grinned rather cruelly, knowing full well that her answer would be anything but stop . Aemond still wanted so much from her tonight, from the amount of times he expected to make her scream for him…by this night's end, he'd have his little wife begging for him.

"I never said I wanted you to stop," she groaned, leaning her forehead against his shoulder as he purposely ghosted his fingertips over her drenched folds. Playing with her entrance really, as he eyed their surroundings, making sure they were still on track as they flew through the sky.

"Oh? What do you want then?" He resisted the urge to smirk, “use your words, sweet girl,” he eyed her intensely as her own shot to his with the use of sweet girl . Many moons ago he'd used those words strictly to annoy her, now he only meant them in the fondest way possible. It was a shame he didn't have a free hand to caress her cheek, the slightly stunned look on her face, the way her hips had rocked up against his hand, whatever tone he'd spoken in must've surely affected her.

Now he couldn't stop smirking, leaning for her lips just as she breathed heavily, "I want your fingers..."

"Do you?" he goaded, finally teasing his index finger, slipping beyond her dripping folds and into her heated core, her sweet whimper was caught against his lips. Gods, the way her hips tried to move against his hand.

All he could do was think of how he could maneuver her around to have her ride him.

"Aemond…" she whined, gripping into his hair as her hips urged him, "I want more, fuck me with your fingers...please…"

"Such crass words from my pristine Princess," he smiled, sinking two more digits into her all at once, drawing a heavenly sob from his beautiful wife, “your manners seem to be slipping the more time you spend in my presence.”

“Mmm, I said please ,” she gasped and tightened her grip on him as his fingers stroked and stretched her, twisting and curling within her, he could feel how her body shivered against him. It was at this point, he figured she’d be ready to take him here and now. Maybe it was his own indulgence to want her to cum on his cock rather than his hand, especially since earlier in the tunnels he’d been quite gentle with her. Her body should be able to take him.

At a glance, the clouds had begun to shift, swirling angrily below them, a storm was certainly coming. With a skilled hand, Aemond had already begun aiming Vhagar to descend below the clouds' surface with the slightest pull of the reins. They'd reach the small deserted island in just a little bit, he could see it off in the distance. But he could make her cum before then, he was sure the pure adrenaline of dropping down in the sky and soaring altogether, had to have already been heightening her pleasure, especially now that his fingers had properly begun to stroke her. Aemond was sure in his skills, he could make this happen.

Daylight had already faded from them above the clouds, but now below them, the dark grey clouds cast them into further darkness. Eerie tones as the dying daylight illuminated the thick swells of the storm clouds with pale light from the otherside.

Rhaena's hips were rocking up rapidly, colliding with the palm of his hand, adding friction to her sensitive clit. She seemed to be looking for purchase, her right hand trying to clutch onto the edge of the saddle as her body began to tense and spasm. With the final curl of his fingers, he slipped his fingers from her, pulling a most disappointed groan from her lips.

“Skoro syt ēdruta ao jemagon nyke va hae bisa,” why must you lead me on like this , her frustrated grumble was accompanied by her attempting to squirm her way out of his hold. As if she had anywhere else to go, the whole display was certainly comical, especially her pouty Valyrian.

“Ñuha vaoreznuni, ñuha dōna. Yn kesan kostilus ao,” my apologies, my sweet. But I will please you , he laughed, licking her slick off his fingers, he managed to undo the laces of his breeches while directing her to, “gūrogon ziry hen,” take it off , motioning to her underclothes. His Princess eyed him cautiously for only a moment, her chest heaving with each breath she took, her eyes trailing down as he pulled his throbbing member free. The moment her pale eyes widened, she seemed to understand the order, and quickly did as she was told. Now Aemond might’ve watched as his wife frantically look for a place to put her underclothes, not truly reaching the packs on the side of Vhagar’s saddle. In his eagerness he might’ve snatched the cloth garment and tossed it over his shoulder swiftly.

Her eyes shot wide as she gasped, “Aemond!”

“Do you wish to complain about your garment, or would you rather I help you forget about it entirely,” he burned his gaze through her, watching as she breathed deeply, her jaw tightening as she began to turn her body in order to face him properly. Cautiously pulling her legs up, Aemond made sure to guard either side of her so she could safely slip her legs up and around his waist. One of her arms securely draped over his shoulder as she took his hard length in her other hand and stroked it nicely, before slowly working to guide his tip to her entrance. His cock twitched at her touch, with a wince he gripped tightly onto reins, hoping to keep Vhagar steady and soaring as the Island slowly drew closer.

Aemond’s back tensed as his cock finally entered her soaked warmth, a shuddering moan left his Princess as his thick size stretched her sweet little cunt the further he went. He’d groaned from the moment he’d entered her, working one of his hands around her waist, he pulled her up and onto his lap. Sinking into her further, his cock throbbing within her heat, snuggly fitting as she pulled herself even closer. Wrapping both of her arms around his neck, her chest now properly pressed against his as she began to rock against him.

Gods, this is what he wanted.

The pure unbridled pleasure of flying and fucking, he knew it would feel extraordinary. The fire piercing through him as his Princess took his cock in full all mixed with the soaring power of flying with one’s bonded mount, it was phenomenal.

All encompassing, sparking and burning him, it felt almost mythical.

Every thrust coursed flames throughout his body, the feeling matched by Vhagar swerving and winding through the air. He found himself letting his head fall back, closing his eye, soaking in the friction of Rhaena’s writhing hips, her hands gripping onto the back of his shirt, her face buried in the crook of his neck as she gasped and sobbed for him. She was chasing her previous pleasure, the peak she was so close to riding over just moments, he could feel just how vigorous her movements were. His beautiful Goddess was moaning desperately by his ear, the sweetest of sounds, all while she used his cock to reach her own end. And he wanted her to, as the island drew near, he was determined to make her cum before they touched the ground.

Tightening his grip on her waist, he aimed his up hips against hers as best as he could in his seat, her hips rolling fiercely against him as her core started clenching around his cock. With one last aimed thrust, he finally felt her flutter around him, a shrieking moan that carried his name accompanied it all as she clung against him. The beauty of it all was that no effort need be made to muffle her cries, in fact he wanted the way she screamed his name aloud to be enough to carry on the winds that rushed by them.

Let the whole realm hear.

As his Princess came down from her high, breathing heavily as she melted into him, his hand leaving her waist to gently stroke her back as she purred faintly. "It's just not fair," she sighed dreamily, nuzzling her nose against his neck as her hands caressed his upper back, "your fingers always feel far too good...and then your cock…I didn’t know it could all feel so good on dragonback."

Aemond chuckled, in all honesty, he hadn’t known either, he just assumed that it would…he was glad to be right. He could imagine just how magnificent it would feel to cum on that high, though this time he prioritized her climax over his, the next time he ventured to take her like this on dragonback, he would experience it in full. For now he planned on saving his own pleasure for once they’d landed. Finally grasping the reins properly in both hands now, he could see that the small deserted cliff island was just below them, Vhagar was already descending as he guided the reins to follow through on landing here. Aemond let his wife simply stay as she was, safely wrapped around him as Vhagar touched down on the shores of the island.

☾

Once they'd separated from each other, dismounting safely, Vhagar settled herself down near the shore of the island while Aemond guided Rhaena up the slight incline. He'd made sure to have Vhagar set a torch alight before they started walking away from her, as the sky had embraced the darkness of nightfall now. Vhagar turned to hunt fish from the sea while they walked up beyond where the sand faded into a grassy plain area. Once Aemond selected a spot, Rhaena spread the blanket they'd packed as he used their torch to create a stationary fire for them.

By the time he turned back, his dragoness was already laying invitingly on the blanket, completely bare for him as her eyes followed his movements. It was an easy decision to waste no time undressing himself, he did it in a flurry, pulling off his eyepatch last before he joined her. Settling himself between her spread legs, he caressed her plush thighs, drinking her in as the fire light danced along her smooth skin.

"Byka ābrazȳrys, ñuha byka ābrazȳrys," little wife, my little wife , he finally breathed, “ziry iksos issare iā bōsa tubis,” it's been a long day , he was dragging himself down her body, spreading her legs further.

If he was being honest with himself, he'd spent so long wanting Rhaena to be his...it was only in these quiet moments alone with her where he could really let the fact sink in. He’d let it play on repeat if necessary. He'd married her today, his dragoness...his bonded mate...his goddess...his Princess. Until she was his, as much as he wanted her, dreamed of her, hoped for her…he never thought he'd have her.

But he did now.

They'd binded their blood and vowed themselves to each other for the rest of their lives.

He could look upon her, feel her, touch her, kiss her...love her.

'We are nobility, we marry for advantage, for political strategical gain, we do not have the luxury of marrying for love,'

'love is not a necessity, it is a luxury ,'

The upsetting part about his grandfather's words, the thing that truly made them stick and haunt him all the same. Was if he'd heard these words some moons ago, when he still believed his marriage would only be one of duty and political alliances. He might have agreed with his grandfather then...he might have believed him to be right. Living that life, the life his grandfather would have carved out for him...let the infighting between his family implode and destroy itself as they all wounded one another just cause . Killing to hurt each side, for petty revenge, for decades long feuds.

He would've stayed lonely, angry and self sabotaging. Turning inward into something he was not... letting his rage truly consume him, turn him into something wicked and cruel. Becoming the monster the realm already believed him to be.

All to fulfill his role as the family sword .

“Mmm, ziry iksos iēdrosa bē qopsa naejot pāsagon,” it's still almost hard to believe , she hummed, gently carding her fingers through his hair, “olvie Vesteros dīnilūks mōris isse prūmia pryjagon iā lēda iā morghon,” most Westeros weddings end in heartbreak or with a death .

A fact to be sure, but Aemond hoped they’d managed to break that curse. Both of their weddings had succeeded without violence or heartbreak. And even though the night was still young, he hoped to keep it that way.

"Mirre ñuhoso. Ñuha dōna valzȳrys, kessa ao stare rȳ nyke mirre bantis bōsa iā kessa ao mazverdagon jorrāelagon naejot nyke," any way. My sweet husband, will you stare at me all night long or shall you make love to me , his dragoness' eyes pale eyes peered through him as her lips pulled into a playful smirk.

It was her way of teasing him, but he would take her taunt seriously enough, wasting no time as he lowered himself between her legs, licking his lips as happily he eyed just how soaking wet he'd made her sweet cunt. The sight of her slick oozing from her now stretched cavernous quivering core had made him feel quite ravenous. Aemond wouldn't wait any longer, his self control disintegrated instantly as he hungrily dragged his tongue along her opening. The sultriest of moans was torn from her throat as he devoured her, his hands gripping into the soft flesh of her thighs even as her legs threatened to squeeze around him.

He found himself grinning against her as her fingers slipped deeper into his hair, nails scratching his scalp deliciously as he suckled the apex of her sex, her breathy whimpers were followed by her hips slowly rocking up to meet him.

"Oh, Aemond," she moaned, her voice all soft and wispy, "avy jorrāelan…avy jorrāelan sīr olvie," I love you…I love you so much .

His eye snapped up to hers.

Her loving gaze paired with the added inflection of when she'd said 'so much' caused him to pause and swallow thickly. Letting her fingers gently comb his hair for a moment, everything in his mind fading and melting all at once. The sea that surrounded them made the wind on this island far more potent, rustling through the grass around them.

It gusted through her curls and his own hair, time felt suspended as he gazed up at her.

Surely he'd never meant so much to one person.

How was it that she could continue to unmask him with such ease, even when he was certain he knew their relationship clearly…understood it fully. Sometimes he just could not prepare himself for the level of affection she sought to bestow upon him.

Aemond blinked himself back to reality, he’d kept his thumb on her clit, as he slowly moved himself upwards, kissing a heated trail up the curve of stomach. Rhaena's hands slid onto his shoulders as he licked a streak between the swell of her breasts before pressing warm kisses along her neck. Her legs lifted and wrapped around his waist, forcing his already aching tip to drag along her burning wet center.

It was a testament to his own strength that he hadn’t spilled himself with the feel of her alone, he’d edged himself on during their time on Vhagar, it was going to be a nightmare keeping his stamina up. Aemond bit back his groan, his tip certainly weeping precum at this very moment, he instead focused on cradling her face and claiming her lips. Letting his Princess taste herself on his tongue as she explored his mouth with an eager need for him. Pulling him closer as her hand dipped back into his hair, she was making him feel feral, his lips edging down her jaw and neck again as his teeth nicked, nibbled and bit at her soft skin.

Just as a wave of her intoxicating lavender scent washed over him, he heard her moan, "Aemond…I want something from you,"

Gods there it was again, that silky way she’d say his name whenever she wanted him.

As his tongue soothed the mark he'd left on her neck, he nuzzled his nose along her throat, "...anything," his voice rasped. Her soft body had slightly stiffened after he’d responded, he could feel her throat throb as she swallowed, her soft hands reaching down to lift and cradle his face above hers. There was a look in her pale eyes, something pained or extremely vulnerable.

What could she ask of him now that would cause such a reaction…such an expression?

"Aemond, I…" her voice was all soft and melodic, her eyes zeroing in on his left eye, "I wish to see you…without your sapphire." Her soft hand moved in a slow caress along his scarred cheek, her thumb softly tracing the length of his old scar.

Aemond felt his cheeks burning, his jaw tensing as he exhaled evenly through his nose.

His eye lingered on her lips for a moment, he captured them needily, breaking away with a breathy, "...very well," he had promised his dragoness anything after all. With a lasting kiss to the corner of her jaw, he pulled himself back onto his knees, keeping her spread legs draped around him for the added warmth. Or maybe more so for the added comfort it brought him, her eyes shone with deepest affection for him while her facial expression remained gentle.

There was a conflicting heat in the pit of his stomach, cooling ice that threatened to melt with the heat that surrounded it. It was not what his dragoness asked of him that bothered him, for while very few people ever saw him in this way…at his most vulnerable.

His dragoness was free to every part of him…he trusted her with everything he had.

It was just the action itself that held so many weighted memories.

As he straightened his shoulders, he lowered his head to remove the sapphire. The loss of his eye had made his left eye socket rather physically sensitive to the touch, it was occasionally still a rather painful part of his body. While his sapphire was custom made and smoothed down to fit comfortably, removing it could sometimes still be an intense and excruciatingly painful ordeal.

Thankfully it hadn't felt so extreme tonight.

Just mildly uncomfortable, with a skilled twist and a pull, a motion he knew by heart, he managed to get his grip on the jewel and captured it in his hand.

He need only look up at her now…deep in his heart he knew he'd only be met by her beautiful loving eyes. But he could not help but think of the last time he dared show a woman his empty socket, it wasn’t on purpose, he’d taken out his sapphire earlier in the night. But during his rough handling of the whore he was with, his leather patch had fallen off, a whore she may have been, but the pure unbridled terror that emanated throughout her entire being had not been something he’d managed to forget. Even with his sapphire…the sapphire was meant to placate the maidens of court, he once hoped the jewel would soften the dark hopeless vacancy of his lost eye…at least superficially so. But it had only ever done the opposite. And covering it with his leather patch had done no better.

Of course, his Princess had been different.

She always had been.

Rhaena, like the most elegant of flowers, melded with the ferocity of a true dragoness. Supposed beauties of the land could never bear to look at him…and yet the one true Valyrian beauty he knew to exist could. How was she the only woman to ever face him so boldly…so fearlessly. At every turn she'd surprised him, thrown him off guard, his set path, she unmasked him continuously. And now as his wife, she wanted to see more of him…how or why she found his sapphire attractive was still a mystery to him. But the idea of his beautiful Princess still feeling the same way after seeing him without it…the sunken dark missing piece of himself.

He didn't wish to linger on these thoughts any longer. In the time he'd taken to release his jewel, his Lady patiently waited for him. His long pale hair had fallen around him like a protective curtain, but he'd soon remedy that, using his other hand, he combed through his hair and lifted it out of his face.

Gods, he'd let his guard down around her almost always…this was the last barrier he had. The only thing that could make his heart beat so irregularly, each pounding thump felt large and life-threatening, his chest was aching, his lungs failing to inhale properly.

With a somewhat shaky exhale, he lifted his gaze to hers, tightly closing his hand around the sapphire as his free hand released his hair in favour of holding her thigh against him.

He was bracing himself…that unease of not knowing exactly how'd she'd react to this.

As Rhaena's hands began to softly glide along his forearms, he felt her slowly pull him down to her, her bright eyes gazing up into his with only warmth and love. There was something else in her eyes, he couldn't decide if it was pain or regret. But the thought cleared as he lowered himself willingly over her, allowing her hands to cup his cheeks, her thumb caressing his scar gently once again, then she pressed a warm kiss upon it.

Gods, her warmth always made his heart burn, so much so he had to work to unlock his jaw just to manage speaking, his throat felt dry and achy, "...you're not…disgusted or frightened?"

Truthfully the look in her eyes and her gestures told him the answer, but part of him needed to hear it from her lips regardless.

"It's only a wound, my love," she breathed softly, her hand slipping down his jaw and further, careful not to graze the stitches on his neck, "I could not love you any less for having it and I did play my part in you receiving it…I have regretted it ever since,"

"I've told you before I do not blame you. I just…why did you wish for this, Rhaena? For me to remove the sapphire," his lips twisted, as a low growl grew in his throat, this wasn't a topic he wished to revisit now, this was their wedding night. He just wanted to take his wife, he brought her here to spend the night lavishing her not revisiting old scars.

Aemond scanned her face critically, watching any minute expression, slightly annoyed when nothing discernable showed, "why would you want this sight? Here, tonight of all nights."

"Because," she sighed softly, running her fingers through his hair, reaching up to press a kiss to his chin, "it is our wedding night and I want you completely. You are my husband now, and I want to know every bit of you. And here on this island where it is just the two of us…I want to see you as you truly are. My dragon. My Prince. Would you not like to make love to me as such, as you are,"

He couldn't deny her, not when she'd made it all sound so perfect…so right. Not when she spoke of wanting him so badly…wanting all of him, even the broken missing pieces of himself.

Aemond's jaw loosened instantly at her touch, her thumb softly stroking his lower lip as her fingers tilted his chin and guided him down to her lips. He could feel her raising her hips up to his, purposely dragging her wet opening against his hard length. Stoking the flames that had already been burning within him as her tongue languidly roved over his.

It was as if the world around them had begun to blur as her lips grew more wanting, ravenously taking ownership of him. It certainly seemed as if removing his sapphire had indeed unlocked something within his little wife. If that was the case, seeing how he'd given in to her wants, she'd seen him in a way few others had ever and ever would…now he'd take the rest.

At a quick glance, he eyed the eerily iridescent, piercing cool dark blue sapphire that still laid his hand, as if he was putting down a sliver of himself in that moment. He reached and laid it upon the pile of their clothing, instead grabbing ahold of his patch before finally devoting his full attention to the soft body that lay beneath him.

She wouldn't have noticed, not until he managed to draw both her arms up above her head and bind them together with his leather patch. By then Rhaena's eyes slid open, "my love, the bindings were not necessary. I would've been good, I planned on behaving for you," a slow smirk formed on her lips as he pulled himself back, just out of her lip’s reach.

"A risk I won't be taking," his eye burned into hers, "Nyke've issare olvie patient mirre skorkydoso, ñuha zaldrītsos. Yn iksan ēdrugī hen umbagon," I've been most patient anyhow, my little dragon. But I am tired of waiting , he nearly snarled, grazing his teeth along the delicate slope of her neck as his free hand slid down the soft curves of her waist then her hips. Gods, he was itching to sink into her again. He might have rushed it earlier today, tangled in silks and cotton cloths. It was a lament of his that he couldn't simply tear her gown from her then and appreciate every inch of her, something he couldn't exactly do atop Vhagar either, but he meant to remedy that now.

"Mmm skoros kessa gaomā lēda nyke pār, ñuha rōva zaldrīzes," what will you do with me then, my big dragon, her playful smile faded once his fingers slipped between her legs, causing a sweet little whimper to slip from her lips. What would he do with her , he had several ideas in mind. But he wanted her even wetter…he wanted her soaking. He allowed his long slender fingers to toy with her entrance, his thumb starting to torture her sensitive little pearl with the barest of touches.

Only this time he did not miss the opportunity to truly appreciate her, focusing on the way her skin shone in the fading breaks of moonlight and the deep orange flickers of the firelight. All the sweet panting gasps that fell from her lips as he dragged his tongue up the swell of her breast and flicked her pebbling nipple. He repeated the action with her other tit, before capturing her nipple in the heat of his mouth, lavishing her with the swirl of his tongue.

He fucking loved the way her legs tightened around him, the way her cunt quivered and moistened for him. His Princess was trying to fight her binds, but he kept his right hand securely around her wrists. Forcing her breasts to heave against his face with every shaky pleasurable breath she took.

Such a heavenly feeling, he couldn't help but excite himself with the thought of how her breasts would feel when they were heavy and filled with milk for their babe. How it might be to suckle them then, the thought was cut through with the sound of his dragoness' moans. The way she was begging him, the way her hips were writhing, trying desperately to get herself off on his hand.

The attempt itself was nearly admirable, but he couldn't allow it, every orgasm he gave her tonight needed to be caused by his cock. It was his goal, and he would make it so. Moving his hand swiftly and grasping onto her hip instead, he'd managed to slow her movements rather easily.

His eager little wife would be free to move once he was inside of her.

"It looks as if you no longer have any restraint for me, hmm," he teased, grinning up at her. A droning groan and a swift head shake had been his response from her. The look on her face had been all the more satisfying, the way her brows furrowed as she bit her lip in frustration. So beautiful, so perfect…so wanton just for him.

In an instant he covered her again, taking her lips needily as he slowly pressed his weeping tip against her dripping cunt, "mmm my little wife, so ready for me," he panted above her, breaking their kiss.

She was quick to nod vigorously, her eyes gazing deeply into his as she lowered her legs from his waist only to spread them wider for him, clearly she was ever so eager. It was unbelievable really, to think his grandfather would have had him settle for mediocrity when he had perfection in his grasp.

Finally sinking into her soft center felt beyond sublime, hot and burning like it should be with a true dragon. The arousing pleasure he felt stretching her nicely, his cock twitching as he sheathed himself inside her.

Rhaena's head had fallen back as she let loose a piercing moan for him, the sound alone had Aemond growling lowly as he began to pump into her. Drawing back almost entirely before thrusting his entire length back inside her. Her whimpers were so loud, desperate sobbing sounds that only served to embolden him. Especially with the way her legs sought to wrap around him, her feet curling with every thrust.

When he lowered himself back down over her, grazing his teeth along her neck, leaving a scattering of love bites in his wake, he'd only said the words, "my sweet little wife, taking me so well…barely any preparation at all, you're getting better," that alone made her made her little cunt even wetter for him. It was almost instantly, so much so Aemond marveled at the complete control and power he had over her body. Simple praise from him and on immediate impulse she melted for him.

"Oh…Aemond," that sultry tone yet again, the way she moaned his name posed real danger for him, the sound alone made him want to cum, and that was including the way her eyes had glazed over. The genuine affection in her eyes, the dreamy gaze she'd given him…he couldn't risk spilling himself so soon. Maybe he'd been wrong, maybe he would be able to last his usual amount rounds with her…but he'd be fucking damned if he came now.

He deserved to pull three orgasms from her at the very least. He'd taken one, he'd take two more.

With a swiftness that was only present when he was so aroused and wanting, he managed to pull himself from her, release the hold he had on her wrists to grab ahold of her hips and flip her onto her stomach.

Oh it was such a sight having her lay on her stomach for him, had this been earlier in the night he might have taken the time to press more kisses along her body, but now he could only think of fucking her. Sinking into her instantly, her gasping moan told him she loved the feeling as much as he did.

Taking her from behind wasn't something he normally did, he enjoyed watching her face when he pleased her, but this was a tantalizing sight he'd been missing out on. Her bottom so full and rounded bent over as he rammed himself into her, gripping harshly into the soft skin of her hips.

With her hands still binded, she managed to prop herself up on her elbows and forearms.

Her silky voice vibrated with every slam of his hips against her plush bottom, "harder, ñuha zaldrīzes!" harder, My dragon!

If that was his permission then he'd take it gladly. Setting a far more punishing pace, he made his thrusts brutal and spearing, aiming for her favoured spot with perfect precision.

Oh he could feel her peak coming, this was what he’d wanted. His ethereal Goddess crying his name aloud, desperately begging for his cock. He'd certainly blow his load if he didn't regain control of himself. But he knew how he could get it, he'd started by sinking his fingers into her curls, grabbing a hold of her and pulling, forcing her to scream as he fucked her.

Gods, his goddess sounded magnificent, such a perfect little whore for him.

She should've been his sooner…she should've been picked to be his bride all along. It was the biggest injustice that he nearly lost out on such a woman.

His very own Princess.

In that moment his mind had given him the idea for the perfect position, one so powerful all his love could possibly do is beg for him to let her reach her peak.

With her head pulled back, her teary eyes gazing up at him, Aemond released her hair and lifted her up by her hips. Repositioning her once again, he pulled her back up against his chest. With a quick swipe, he undid the binding of her wrists and allowed her to drape an arm over his shoulder as he hooked her right leg up into the crook of his right arm. At glance down, between the heaving mounds of her breasts and down the flat slope of her stomach, he could nearly just sweetly see the way his cock fit within her.

And then he ruined the silence once again, thrusting up into her to the sound of shrieking sob, his left hand stayed on her hip, until his attention was caught by the lovely sight of his member causing a bulge in her lower abdomen.

It was instantaneous, his hand moving from her hip to press down on the bulge, adding a sweet pressure for her as he stroked her most favoured spot.

And Gods, the sounds she made echoed throughout their little island here.

Her sob pierced through him like the most melodic cry he'd ever heard, and he was desperate to keep that sound. To think he'd had her in nearly every way he could ever desire, and yet it seemed he was still able to discover new sounds.

The way her body shivered and writhed, limbs wriggling and twisting as if the pleasure she was feeling was overwhelming her, "oh valzȳrys…ñuha zaldrīzes…I can't…I can't take much more," husband…my dragon. There it was again, his favourite tell tale sign that his little wife was enjoying herself. That moaning mix of Valyrian and the common tongue.

He couldn’t tell how long he’d been at this, but he was quite proud she’d managed to last as long as she had.

"Ao've gaomagon sȳrje, māzigon syt nyke, eman ao," you've done very well, come for me, I have you , he spoke tenderly nuzzling against her cheek as kept his punishing pace just for her release.

Little did she know, he was certain she was already cumming, he'd felt her slick, hot and wet coating his cock with each thrust, her core muscles threatening to squeeze his willpower away with ease. Aemond found himself groaning harshly against her shoulder, the exquisite pressure of her cunt closing around his throbbing member was almost too much to take. But he fought past it, watching as the ecstasy of her climax washed over her, the whimpering cry that fell from her lips made his heart thump warmly. Proudly even, especially once the rest of her body went limp against him, her nails digging into his shoulder as she still attempted to hold herself up with nonexistent energy.

But Aemond was quick to hold her hips against him, his dragoness was overstimulated, sated and drunk off her own pleasure. Gently, he lowered her back down onto the blanketed ground, he didn’t wish to keep her in such an upright position. Once they were both on the blanket, he laid himself down beside her, both of them laying on their sides. And like that he found himself just gazing at his Princess, listening to the sound of her soft breathless exhales, her eyelids heavy and fluttering closed. Running his hand along her smooth thigh, he slid his caress up the curve of her hip and down the sweet curve of her waist, he felt her shiver beneath his touch, and watched the faint little smile that graced lips. In a matter of seconds, he’d pulled her against him, leaning over nuzzling his nose against hers, he simply whispered, “are you ready for one more,”

With a groan she shook her head, her hand reaching up to cup his scarred cheek as she ghosted her lips against his. Her voice was breathy and faint, “my love...I don’t think I can do it,”

Aemond smirked, pressing a warm kiss against her lips as he pulled her flush against him, for her to feel how much he still wanted and needed her, “you wouldn't leave your dragon so hard and wanting would you, little wife.”

Rhaena whined deeply, exhaling heavily through her nostrils as if she was fighting an internal battle, in the end, she’d simply lift her leg over up drape it over his hip, wrapping her arms around his neck as she readied herself. Her pale violet eyes gazed deeply into his with an intensity he was not prepared for, “gūrogon nyke, ñuha zaldrīzes. Dīnagon iā rūs isse nyke,” take me, my dragon. Put a babe in me.

Mmm, oh he certainly would.

He wasted no time sliding his thick length into her welcoming cunt, still dripping from her recent orgasm, with one swift movement he was able to thrust into her with ease. A lovely scratchy whimper tore from her throat as he fucked her without mercy, he wasn’t holding back this time and look in her eyes told him she did not want him to. Her hands grappled onto him just as his hand dug into the soft flesh of her hips, guiding her writhing body against his as he felt her own pleasure rising up once again.

She was magnificent, somehow in this moment he was beginning to feel that same overwhelming all-encompassing soaring pleasure he’d felt when he’d taken her upon Vhagar. It wasn’t the exact but it felt beyond what was coursing through him just moments ago, it was ravenous and needy, yes but this…the way his blood was burning, sizzling and sparking. Vhagar was calling to him, as he growled and groaned into the crook of Rhaena’s neck, he could feel his link to his bonded mount. His body and soul was in sync with his Princess’ while his bonded-spirit had clearly been feeling everything he was.

“Aemond…jurnegon rȳ nyke…Nyke jaelagon naejot ūndegon ao skori ao māzigon,” Aemond...look at me...I wish to see you when you cum , he’d heard the begging whine from her so clearly. And it was then that he realized he’d somewhat been inadvertently avoiding keeping her gaze this evening, not that he’d avoided it entirely, he’d looked her in the eyes…he just hadn’t kept her gaze for very long.

Rhaena wouldn’t let him decide though, she rather immediately pulled and tugged his hair enough to pull his face in front of hers. Where her pale violet eyes, all illuminated by firelight, both stopped his heart and started it all at once. It was the surging force that had pushed him over the edge, the look in her fierce eyes, the want, the pure unadulterated love they held for him. She wanted to gaze at him as he was, vulnerable and missing, this was what pleased her most of all.

His body was on fire, his heart primed to burst, and all the while her rocking hips kept their pace against his. Every thrust felt like it could be his last, the obscene squelching of their arousal had

grown louder…she was close, so close…he just needed her release.

And once he got it, her desperate cry paired with her nails scraping deliciously against his scalp and back, his fingers bruising her hips as his grip tightened and hardened. A final growl shredded its way out of him as he finally spilled himself within her, her cunt already clenching and pulling, milking the last of few drops of his seed from him. All the while he kept his gaze on her and her eyes, getting lost in the swirling lavender and lilac of her eyes, his body erupting in a heat that poured like molten lava all throughout.

Wild yet quenching, fucking had never felt quite like that before.

By the time he’d managed to slip his cock from her clutches and lay on his back, it seemed as if the world was spinning. Dizzy and hazy, he was breathing so heavily, oxygen barely reaching his lungs. This position was far less exerting and yet he felt even more exhausted than had previously. But even so, Aemond didn’t wait to catch his breath entirely before pulling his Princess up against him. Wrapping his arms around her as she rested her head and chest against his chest. Her soft breaths ghosted over his skin as her curls spilled over his chest, she felt so soft and warm against him. So safely snuggled in his arms as she hugged herself closer, nuzzling her cheek against him.

“Are you satisfied now, my love,” Rhaena hummed as her fingers rubbed his chest softly, her bright eyes happily flicking up to gauge his reaction.

His sweet Princess…his sweet wife…he’d get to do this as often as they wished now. She was his to hold and love and protect, all his. He no longer needed to count the days, she was his in every way that mattered…every way possible.

A dream come true made real by his own determination to have her…possess her like no other.

With a small nod, he quietly smirked, “entirely.”

Instinctively, he caressed her smooth back in soothing circles, leaning down just enough to press a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the sweet creamy scent that floated from her hair. Calming himself instantly before he laid back as he gazed up at the night sky. Those storm clouds from earlier had swarmed closer, floated down from the heavens and in all honesty they looked primed to burst. In all likelihood, they’d get rained on, they’d certainly be drenched if they stayed here. Quite literally dampening his plans to stay the night here, but he supposed it mattered not. They had their romantic getaway , away from everyone and anyone who might disturb them, he’d had his Princess all to himself in the most beautiful ways possible.

If they had to leave now, the only portion of the night that was left was to truly fall asleep…and that, they could do inside the castle if need be.

Aemond wasn’t keen on moving from this comfortable position just yet though, even though he knew they needed to. Rhaena, he was certain, would whine about having to move now. But maybe she’d hate being rained on more.

With a soft budge, he whispered against her hair, “the storm will be upon us soon, I think we’ll have to continue this in our chambers,”

There was a tell-tale groan that accompanied her sigh, “what if it’s only a drizzle?”

“It’s certainly not a drizzle ,” he responded crisply as his eye caught a flash of lightning, and as he thought to mention it, there rang a clashing roar of thunder in the distance. It was enough to startle her against him, enough to make him chuckle.

She hadn’t needed much more convincing after that.

Quickly they pulled themselves up and dressed, Aemond refitted his Sapphire, as he didn’t wish to carry it in his pocket and possibly lose it…or worse yet really, he didn’t wish to stumble upon any occupants who were still awake when they returned to the castle, without it in.

Once everything was gathered, Aemond nearly considered the thought of putting out their fire…something he quickly decided would be unnecessary as the rain began to splutter down. It was light for only a moment…and then it poured with pressure.

“Get to Vhagar, I’m right behind you!” he yelled over the sound of crashing thunder and the splashing torrential rainstorm. He watched as she nodded, squinting in the darkness as the moon was now covered, their firelight gone, in the pale strikes of lightning they could just barely make out Vhagar’s enormous mass of a shadow below the bank. It seemed his mount was keen to help them, rumbling a deep roar into the sky with a burst of bright hot flames.

The rain wouldn’t bother Aemond, sure it was uncomfortable to remain drenched in one’s own clothes, hair stuck and slicked against his face and back. But storms had never scared him, he always enjoyed the brutal beauty nature presented in its chaos. Especially on dragonback, flying in a storm was exhilarating. Incredibly dangerous and risky, but the adrenaline boost alone was enough to fuel any Targaryen.

They’d managed to climb Vhagar rather quickly all things considered, Rhaena had only slipped a couple of times, but he’d managed to catched her easily and guide her the rest of the way. When they were settled securely, his wife tucked between his legs as he held onto her tightly…then and only then did Aemond utter the command, "Sōvēs, Vhagar," fly, Vhagar .

☾

If Aemond spent the entire flight back to the castle cackling and flying with slight reckless abandon all while his wife clutched onto him and screamed during every dive and surge that Vhagar performed…well…he’d just have to hope for her forgiveness. In King’s Landing storms were a sparse occurrence, and when they did roll around they certainly were not of this caliber. Each thunderclap sounded so incredibly close, each lightning strike struck from above in perfectly timed strikes that surrounded them, causing Aemond and Vhagar to weave around and anticipate where they’d next appear.

It was all so thrilling!

Though, once they’d landed on the Dragon Mound’s field, both running for the cover of the secret tunnel entrance, Aemond took Rhaena’s hand to pull her in as quickly as possible.

By then, Aemond realized just how much his beloved had not enjoyed that flight.

“That was horrifying! The most frightening flight I’ve ever been on,” Rhaena was ranting and raving at this point, “and you! You were enjoying it…that…that deadly murderous storm…well…of course you did, I don’t know I expected anything else…”

He didn’t bother to inject, instead he leaned himself against the stone wall of the cave and let her talk herself out. Either way it was rather amusing, the way she animatedly shook at pointed at him, and then the slight shivers her body gave off as the storm’s wet breeze blew, snapping him back into action.

They’d forgotten her cloak back on the island, not that it would have been of any use now, it would have been just as soaked as everything they had on now.

But her teeth were faintly chattering and her voice had begun to vibrate with it, so with a sigh, he quickly gathered her into his embrace despite her minor protests, “would you rather stand here complaining and screaming at me, or would rather dry off and warm yourself by a fire, getting into our cozy bed together.”

The answer was obvious, he’d all but handed her the clear decision.

“Well…I can still complain and scream at you once we're in bed you know,” she grinned, pressing herself against him.

A genuine smile befell his lips then as he caressed a few of her damp curls away from her forehead and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, “fair enough, I’d still rather you do it there than here. You’re clearly freezing, and I’d rather not lose my wife so quickly.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she giggled, pushing off of him as she stepped around him. She’d stop only a few steps ahead, turning back towards him with an outstretched hand for him to take.

One he took happily.

Letting her lead them as they rounded the many twists and turns that Rhaena knew by heart, the tunnels were pitch black, with neither a candle between them, Aemond relied on his dragoness’ memory of these tunnels to not lead them astray. He hadn’t doubted her, she’d grown up in this castle afterall, he knew she knew these tunnels like the back of her hand and soon enough they’d arrived back into a corridor on the lower levels. One that was far more familiar and recognizable, one that thankfully had several torches still lit to maneuver around with. From there they slipped into another tunnel, this one had a narrow staircase that wound its way around to Dragon’s nest .

A stronghold, the area of the castle where their chambers, along with the rest of their royal family’s, barring Otto and Alicent Hightower of course, resided. They could reach that main hall and then walk the rest of the way past the Gold Cloaks who guarded the main entrance.

As usual, the hallway was lit with a row of torches, the bright orange flames had spilled flickering light into the tunnel as they neared the exit, lighting their way as they finally stepped out into the hallway.

*clank*

It was faint, but Aemond had heard it.

In an instant, he grabbed Rhaena and pulled back against his chest, halting her quickly as he slid her around him so she could stand behind him. His eye scanned their surroundings carefully, they were standing in the middle of a vacant hallway, there were only two ways to look…and both sides seemed to be clear.

“What-” she’d started but stopped-

*clank*

There it was again, from the right…in the distance…there was a shadow.

Something quick…but it was there.

And Rhaena had seen it too, now clutching onto the back of his damp shirt as she eyed the corner in the distance just as he was. Aemond had brought his sword earlier, and was quite glad he had now. He couldn’t be certain, whoever lurked down the hall…down in the direction opposite of Dragon Nest. Down towards the servants staircase…the torches were not lit in that corner…very specifically extinguished, Aemond might’ve added.

This was an ambush .

Of that he was certain, it was as clear as day.

*clank*

The shadow was advancing…no… shadows .

Fuck, there were several of them. This smelled of his grandfather, Otto Hightower never accepted defeat if he could help it. Even now at the hour of the wolf, with a rainstorm still raging just outside…Aemond’s grandfather sought to ruin his wedding day.

It’d almost been the perfect day.

He should have expected as much.

“Aemond,” his wife whispered behind him, “their figures…they look like knights… King’s Guards not Gold Cloaks.”

He felt his jaw tighten as fucking Criston Cole emerged from the shadows with Ser Willis Fell and Ser Rickard Thorne closely behind. Along with three other unrecognizable servants…hired brutes, who were all various shapes. Bulky and well-formed, slim, lanky and tall, stout and rotund. But they mattered very little to him, no the smug look upon Cole’s face was enough to make Aemond’s blood boil on its own, the mere fact that this lowly knight thought himself so noble and righteous, so correct in his view of the world.

The five men only halted themselves once Cole stood front and center, toe to toe with Aemond.

Aemond had his hand hovering over the handle of his blade ever since he’d seen them off in the distance, but now he was ready to draw it.

They were still not close enough to the stronghold to be seen by any Gold Cloaks, that was surely why Cole had planned to intercept here…a blindspot.

“Do you have any idea what you are doing, Cole,” Aemond gritted darkly, a fire raging just beneath the surface of his eye, “you’re acting on the wishes of a bitter foolish old man. He wishes to stoke the flames of a war no one of true power or importance wants. Be smart for once in your life, let this go. Leave now, and I will not speak of it.”

It was a fair offer, in fact, it was far more than any of these men deserved.

And maybe Aemond felt merciful enough to make the offer at least as his wife was presently with him. And though she knew of bloodshed and violence, he also knew his Princess well. She was no sword fighter, she did not lust for blood or violence or to cause pain and wreckage. If this fight were to begin, this would be far more gruesome than a simple singular execution like her father had done to her great-uncle Vaemond. If he could help it, he’d rather she not see this, all jests aside she was indeed still a prim and proper Princess.

But if Cole sought to push this…then Aemond would do what was necessary.

“My Prince, your grandfather is the only one seeing clearly,” Criston spoke smugly, as if he were explaining the obvious to a petulant child, “Aegon is the rightful heir, the first born son, how could you stand behind anyone else but your own brother…your own blood.”

“Fuck off, Cole! You realize I am a Targaryen, or are you blind and stupid. The entire royal family that currently rests in this castle right now, counts as my blood. Rhaenyra is my blood, she is the heir,” Aemond spat, how many times would he have to reaffirm this, he wasn’t entirely fond of the options but he’d be damned if he ever backed Aegon as King, “you want Aegon on the throne so badly, he’s a fucking drunk who can barely lift his sword. But that’s your King, the man who stumbles out of bed at half-day passed, hungover, tripping and forever exhausted, he can barely remember which Lords hail from where. But he will lead you in this war to come, will he? You’re all so fucking disgusting.”

Cole’s nostrils were flaring, his jaw grinding furiously as his hand flexed over his sword. Ser Fell looked just as determined, clearly he really believed in this cause, though the same could not be said for Ser Thorne. He’d be their weak link, the fool who let himself get roped up and dragged along to commit an act of treason, for a cause he clearly did not fully believe in. The servants… peasants who were enticed by some coin to be sure.

There were only six of them in total, sizing them all up, Aemond knew he could take them. The three servants would be easily slayed, as most likely they would have little if any formal training. Ser Thorne as well, with how nervous and distracted he seemed to be, eyeing exits as if he wished to escape this horrid plan just like Aemond had offered all of them to.

“Prince Aemond you must step away from the Princess, no harm will come to her, but you must come with us,” Ser Fell gruffly spoke, as if he deigned to be the diplomat of the group.

At the mention of his Princess , Aemond’s protective arm moved to block her further from the men in front of them, “no harm would come to her anyhow because you’d lose your arm if not your life the moment you tried.”

“Enough of this,” Cole moved to step forward but Aemond immediately matched the movement, causing the knight to simply stand his ground, “you are to let us escort you to Vhagar, you are to fly to Storm’s End-”

Oh fucking hell.

Their ridiculous little plan hadn’t even been altered considering the circumstances. Aemond found himself letting loose a rather manical mirthless cackle, “you’re right about one thing, Cole. I have had enough of this,” within a millisecond Aemond had drawn his sword. A move that made Cole and Fell draw their own, the servants pulled daggers…and Thorne…he remained still. His hands by his side, he did not even attempt to reach for his blade.

Coward…mmm…but his cowardice could be useful now.

Behind him he felt Rhaena pat herself vigorously, searching for her own dagger assumably…something she did not bring with her, which lead to her rather quietly cursing to herself in a huff, “fuck, I knew I should have brought it.”

He might’ve smirked, once again he should have expected as much, of course his dragoness would wish to protect herself just as equally.

“I’m not going with you, Cole, Fell…any of you,” Aemond sighed, now resigned to the fact that he would have to run each man threw, “the plan is foolish, beyond fucking asinine.The most ill-conceived plot I’ve ever heard. Besides the fact that it’s violently storming outside, what makes you think I won’t simply command Vhagar to devour you once you escort me to her. What would your puny blades do to my dragon, hmm?”

Both Cole and Fell shared a look as if they somehow just realized they’d overlooked the most obvious hole in their plot.

They truly were morons.

“Ser Rickard Thorne,” Rhaena’s sweet courtly voice echoed out from behind Aemond, “you clearly do not wish to be apart of this. Should you stay, Aemond will either kill you himself or you’ll be found guilty of treason and executed all the same. But you can escape with a lighter sentence if you leave now, warn my parents, warn the Queen…do your actual duty.”

Where Aemond’s earlier offer had failed to yield results, it seemed his wife’s clear voice had rang true with the unsteady Knight. With a nod and a bow, Ser Thorne swiftly slipped away from his comrades before they could stop him and hurried past Aemond and Rhaena, down the hall in search of Daemon and Rhaenyra... Aemond supposed he'd head to the Queen’s separate quarters afterwards.

In the short lull, Cole and Fell sent the servants to attack.

Those three were a sorry excuse for warriors … mercenaries …no they were simply servants with weapons, and they fought as such. Aemond had pushed Rhaena back, as he quickly circled around the three and one by one dispatched of them all. A simple side step as he slashed across the belly of the first servants, with an added spin, Aemond swiftly slit the man's throat and basked in the blood that splattered across his face.

That minor thrill for violence had been awakened and he craved for more. Watching as the other two servants began to hesitate, their grip on their blade loosening as they looked at one another and stepped back slightly. Second guessing their choices, but it meant nothing to Aemond. Their lives ended the moment they chose to stand against him, the moment they chose to pull blades on a Crown Prince such as himself. He had no room for mercy, not anymore. But he'd done them the service of making it quick, stabbing one clean through his gut before lopping off his head and then simply beheading the last man as he all but begged for mercy.

With a flourish, Aemond flipped and skillfully twirled his sword in his hand, flicking the unworthy blood from his blade as he cracked his neck and took a real stance, “you dishonour me, Cole. The fact you bothered to hire such lowly trash to face me, you should have known better. I’ve bested you enough times for you to have brought me an actual challenge.”

That had been the final straw, Cole finally lunged at Aemond, bringing his sword down with force and great strength. Aemond quickly instinctively blocked it with his own blade, a regretful decision he soon realized as Cole may have been slashing wildly with real rage and fury, but it was meant to be a distraction.

“Aemond!” Rhaena’s piercing scream had caught him just in time.

He’d barely dodged the swinging slash Fell had aimed at his head. They sought to kill him, it seemed, if they couldn’t bring him willingly, it seemed they’d rather not bring him at all…which was just as foolish on their part.

Grandfather wanted Aemond to wield Vhagar as Otto’s own personal weapon.

And that's when it dawned on him.

This wasn’t his grandfather’s plan.

No no, the plan itself was originally his, but this…this sloppy slapdash execution. Otto would never have selected Ser Thorne for a plot like this, he would have made sure everything was airtight. He would have had failsafes, alternatives and reserves in place…this was not his doing. Aemond would not believe Otto Hightower had given up entirely, but he was not behind this attack at the very least.

It was Cole…acting on his own accord. His own desperate need to place Aegon on the throne and stay in the company of Aemond’s mother as her sworn lapdog .

Fighting off two opponents at once had forced Aemond to think more impulsively, he couldn’t plan too many steps ahead like he did in his usual one on one sparring matches.

But in this case, he would not need to. He knew Cole well enough, he knew how he moved, how he fought, what he favoured.

When Cole swung high, Aemond took care to duck and swivel as Fell’s blade thrusted and aimed for Aemond's stomach. Both knights worked to exhaust him, attacking from his flanks, aiming where the other was not, Aemond was indeed at a disadvantage.

But he had his own advantages as well, they were bulkier, slower, their armour weighed them down. A damp silk shirt and simple breeches did not provide much protection for Aemond and everyone present knew it.

So he’d have to utilize his speed, hopping over one of the dead servants, Aemond slipped under a wide wild slash Fell made from his right side, before twirling away from Cole’s blade and catching Fell’s unguarded left side. The knight expected Aemond to slice upwards where his protective armour would have saved him, but instead Aemond sliced down, the gap between his lower abdomen and his leg plates was the perfect place to strike. Slashing down and across the knight's lower abdomen, relishing the added spray of blood that already coated him from his previous kills. Fell screamed as he dropped to his knees, clutching his wound, it was severe, but it would not kill him…not yet at least. Finally Aemond pointed his blade at the knight’s throat, forcing a surrender out of the man.

“Drop your sword, Prince Aemond,” Cole panted…but he was nowhere near Aemond.

Suddenly a cold shiver ran down Aemond's spine, slowly he stood up straight, turning to follow the sound.

His jaw clenched instantly, his eye only seeing red, the fucking cunt, he had Rhaena pinned against the wall, his own sword pointing straight at her throat. Aemond would never make it in time even if he tried to run to her.

FUCK.

He should have told her to run, he should have covered her while she snuck back into tunnels and she could’ve retrieved her parents and stayed away from all this…she could have been safe and out of harm's way.

It was his duty to protect her, it was…a necessity to keep her safe. He needed her safe, he could not fathom a world where she was not here with him.

“You promised no harm would come to my wife,” Aemond seethed, Gods it sounded pathetic, but he needed to buy more time. Whether Thorne truly went to retrieve Daemon and Rhaenyra was unknown, and either way Aemond didn't wish to rely on that.

He'd save his wife all on his own, because he had to…because he needed to.

“NO!,” Cole sounded erratic, his shrill voice cutting through the silence like jagged edges of glass, blood was seeping through his weighted under cover, it seemed Aemond had nicked him in their little back and forth, “fucking Fell said that, I did not. I could care less what happens to any spawn of Daemon’s . Besides, if I kill her…you’d be free to fulfill your duty to your true family. With no distractions, no impediments, nothing and no one holding you here. Why you want this girl so badly is beyond me, surely she is a pretty girl, but are looks all you care for my Prince?”

Fucking cunt.

Aemond’s heart was racing, he was brimming with adrenaline and pure dragon’s fire. He wanted to run Criston Cole through and be done with him, he wanted him dead, he wanted him tortured and skewered for even daring to touch Rhaena. He didn’t care about Fell or Thorne, if his sister and mother wished to pardon them, fuck it, who cares…but Cole, no. Cole needed the pain, he needed to die, he wouldn’t let his mother absolve the unhinged man this time.

Aemond’s eye was scanning for every possible way he could save his Princess, the dead servants bodies scattered the floor, but he could race up along the edge and reach Cole fast enough…but would it be fast enough.

No, he would be fast enough, he needed to be fast enough, he could not lose her. Not here, not now and especially not to fucking Criston Cole.

Just an hour ago…he’d thought today might have been the best day of his life, he held it quite close to the morning his dragoness told him that she loved him…to the first time he could see just how much she wanted him…just in her eyes. Rhaena was more than just his wife now, she symbolized everything to him. Everything he could ever want in one person, she was his happiness, she was his future…he could not separate any of that from her.

He’d never recover if anything were to happen to her.

He’d unleash hell on earth for her…and even then he would not be satisfied. He never wished to experience that level of darkness…hollow heartbreak. He could not turn into the hollow man his father had become after the loss of his first wife…his true love.

No, there’d be no world in which he allowed it to happen.

In a glance, he saw his Princess eyeing him, Aemond almost moved but he held fast. Watching as she motioned with her eyes towards Cole and then back to Aemond, she was going to do something…a distraction? Even in a moment like this, his plotting little Princess did not cow.

It could work, Cole had made the order for Aemond to ‘drop his sword’ , but he only glanced back at Aemond periodically, the knight’s main focus remained on Rhaena. With that in mind, Aemond waited for Cole to glance back at him, “I mean it, my Prince. Drop the blade!”

“So you can kill my wife? You really are an imbecile if you think I’ll simply oblige,” Aemond snarled, glancing down at Fell who lay on the floor now quietly bleeding out. His own sword still in hand, Aemond knew what he’d do.

He gave a nod to his dragoness.

Aemond kicked Fell’s blade out of his hand, the loud clatter giving the illusion that Aemond himself had finally done what Cole wanted. Surrendered.

In that moment of slight confusion, quick as ever, Rhaena spat in Cole’s face while simultaneously curling her hand into a fist, punching his left cheek, forcing the knight to step back. Taken off guard, Cole wiped his face before he began growling, moving to thrust his blade, “say goodbye to your whore of a wife-”

Aemond was quick, bolting along the edge of the hall’s wall, finally making it in reach of the knight. He should have simply speared his sword through the man's throat, decapitated him like he truly wished to.

…but like he thought previously, he wanted this man to suffer. Even more so now for calling his wife a fucking whore while he held a blade to her throat.

All of his rage coursing in him, Aemond tossed his sword from his right hand to his left and let his right hand curl into a fist, throwing a biting punch. Hitting Cole square in the jaw, knocking the older man back several steps. Aemond had been proud to see his Lady hit the knight as well, but Aemond would prefer to truly wound him. In that spare moment, he could only spare his wife a quick overlook, just to see if she was well. There he noticed the tip of Cole’s blade had indeed nicked her throat just barely, a faint trickle of blood had dripped and dried down the center of her throat, gathering in the dip of her collarbone. Small as the wound was, it only enraged him more, as he turned to face Criston Cole, he dodged an incoming slash from the man.

He dares to still swing at me , Aemond thought, very well .

The dragon within him had certainly wide awake now, fire made flesh he moved in what felt like a blur. Dodging Cole’s thrust from the left, swirling around and slashing down with every bit of force he possessed. It happened in an instant, Aemond had severed the fingers that held Cole’s sword.

The guttural scream that tore from the knight as he clutched his wrist, dark blood spewing and gushing from his hand as his sword rattled and it hit the floor in a clatter.

That scream, Cole’s deep and feral howls all sounded so delicious, the terror…the pain. It fueled Aemond, fed the dragon that lived within him, the one that called for violence and chaos, for fire and blood. In the knight’s moment of weakness, Aemond reached and grabbed him by the neck, eye to eye at the same height and level, he forced the older man down to his knees as Aemond pointed his blade down at Cole's throat.

For once that man was finally where he belonged, on his knees in the presence of royalty, in the presence of dragons.

Aemond twirled his sword, away from Criston Cole’s neck, foolishly the knight seemed to think Aemond would grant him leniency of some sort, as if he deserved it…as if he was owed it. He watched gleefully as the sworn sword gritted and groaned, deep crimson blood bubbling and pouring from his fingerless hand and onto the stone floor. Cole seemed to be working his mouth to move, as if he wished to speak, but before Cole could bother to spew anymore bile, Aemond quickly grabbed him roughly, a vice grip around his throat, leaning down over him, “you will die for this and I will make it agonizing. Your title means nothing to me, you will suffer. It was a fucking mistake ever allowing you to live all those years ago. Low level scum that you are, you really thought to pull a blade on me , on my wife! You dared to cut her…her precious royal skin…you dared to lay your filthy fucking hands upon her. No, I want you to feel every bit of this,” he sneered.

“You will doom us all,” Criston choked, “you cannot choose this…you cannot choose her-” Cole’s spiel was cut short as Aemond’s sword tipped cooly lengthwise underneath the knight's chin.

“ Aemond! …” it was his beloved this time, he could hear her so faintly, so muffled and muddled as if he’d been submerged under ice cold water and everything and everyone else that surrounded him existed in some far away place…a different existence.

She sounded miles away even though he knew she was only a few steps behind him.

That wasn’t what annoyed him though.

No, he’d entered a mode he could not and would not leave willingly. She had to know what Cole had done here tonight could not stand…she had to understand just how terrified he’d been at the thought of losing her just moments ago.

She did not have to watch this, but Cole had to pay.

But, fuck…it was in her tone, that soft pleading she did whenever she wanted him to listen to her…whenever she wanted him to stop .

Not now…he didn’t wish to listen to that soft voice now. She deserved justice….maybe it was him who needed justice, he needed savagery…pain and brutality.

“Aemond, please,” she tried again, now she was stepping towards him, towards the unravelled beast he’d unleashed for her…for the mayhem…for the pleasure he took in fighting and killing, “you cannot kill him...not like this. He’s a sworn knight. Your parents’ sworn knight. Your parents…and mine…they must make the final decision of what happens to him and Ser Fell. This is not a simple situation.”

"Rhaena…" Aemond breathed heavily, his chest still heaved with his shoulders as he took haggard breaths. He could not turn to meet her gaze, his glare remained pinned to the kneeling knight before him.

It was infuriating, of course he knew her words to be true, but he didn’t care at that moment. It wouldn’t have mattered, if he slayed Cole here and now, he’d face a verbal lashing at most. By the end, his actions would be seen as just given the circumstances and Cole being only a fucking knight, would not matter.

They’d simply replace him, Aemond was a Prince of the realm he’d face no real consequence.

“What the fuck is going on!” a voice called from the deserted hallway.

It was Daemon…unmistakably so.

It seemed Aemond would not get his answer or be allowed to dole out his preferred punishment just yet, by his guess, it sounded as if his uncle had just rounded the corner and was making his way over to them at his usual casual yet fearsome pace.

Daemon looked particularly menacing as he stalked his way down the hall, now in sight beneath the flickering torches that lined the hall, Dark Sister was clearly already drawn and dragging, scrapping and screeching the stone floors for what seemed like added effect. His long pale Targaryen blonde hair flowed unbound, his grey silken shirt untied…he looked as if his slumber had been disturbed, beyond irritated and soon to be furious when he properly arrived on the scene.

A dragon of Old ready to spit fire and tear his victims apart, he looked rageful, he truly looked like what his moniker had always implied…The Rogue Prince. Stalking the halls for prey to satiate his bloodlust.

Behind him but at a bit of a distance, both Rhaenyra and Alicent also made their way over in a rush. Rhaenyra with a hand on her swollen belly as she ambled over as quick as she was able, while Aemond's mother had kept her pace with Rhaenyra as she certainly wasn’t able to catch up to Daemon just yet.

Aemond could see it all, their parents all convening here, taking in this sight of blood and gore. Two sworn members of the King’s Guards lay bleeding…well one was whimpering like a child now. The three servants' bodies, sliced and severed…and surrounded by it all…there stood Aemond Targaryen at the center of it. His sword still pointed and aimed towards Criston Cole’s throat as the man sniveled and whined over his severed hand.

When Daemon finally took in the sight, he followed the blood, followed the bodies all the way to Aemond and Rhaena. Scrutinizing for only a moment before his gaze softened, in four long strides he’d managed to reach them. His first priority was to check after his daughter, sheathing his sword, he placed his hands on her shoulders and scanned her for any bruises or wounds. Tilting her chin when he noticed the miniscule slit on her throat, she was quick to place a comforting hand over her father’s, reassuring him, “Iksan sȳz, kepa. Nyke kivio iksan unharmed” I am fine, father . I promise I am unharmed. Her words were soft and she knew speaking them in Valyrian would let them sink in truly for her father.

For a while there, Aemond kept waiting for Rhaena to step away from him. When her father came, he was sure she would fall into his embrace and step away from the monstrous man who’d simply murdered three, possibly five men without any remorse. In fact he’d enjoyed a great deal of it, relished in it, drank it in as life’s blood and felt his lust for it all nearly quenched. But even still, here she stood. Yes she clearly took comfort in her father’s presence, but when he was done, she leaned herself against Aemond. Looping her arm around his as she rested her cheek on his bicep just below his shoulder.

His dragoness.

What had also surprised him was the weighted feel of a hand on his other shoulder, it was Daemon’s. At a glance, he realized a mix of emotions had flashed in his uncle’s eyes. From slight concern…for Aemond’s well being…that was odd, there was a flash of casual relief, and finally something that Aemond dared to think looked like pride.

Whether he was proud of him as a nephew or as a Good-son protecting the older man’s precious daughter…well Aemond couldn’t distinguish it and he wouldn’t attempt to. He’d just take it for what it was. He'd seen the look once before now, the day he'd won the tourney…it may have been safe to assume that the look was certainly a look of pride.

“You can sheath your sword, nephew,” Daemon finally spoke, “I shall handle this from here."

It was a bit of a bitter pill to swallow, but as his sanity began to slowly reconnect within himself, Aemond knew the smarter choice would be to heed his uncle in this moment. To try and claim Cole's life as his own to take now, he'd most likely have to fight Daemon to be granted it…and that wasn't a fight Aemond felt up to at the moment.

There was the added fact that Aemond already knew of the rivalry between his uncle and Criston Cole…it was less of a rivalry and more of just pure mutual hatred. If anyone would understand the need for Cole's demise it would be Daemon. To say there was a clear hint of joy in his uncle’s voice when he’d said the words, his face smirking with an equally sinister sense of gratification as he unsheathed Dark Sister yet again and slid the point underneath Cole’s chin. A cold shiver had coursed throughout the knight’s body at the clear sight of Daemon standing over him now.

Once both mothers arrived and checked after their children, the question he’d long since expected had finally been asked by his mother, “what in The Father’s name…what has happened?”

Rhaenyra only echoed the sentiment, “Ser Rickard Thorne came running to us in the middle of the night, he said you both were in danger, that Ser Cole was the cause.”

For what felt like the first time in ages, Aemond finally tore his eye away from Cole completely, meeting his mother and sister’s gaze properly instead just glancing at them from the corner of his eye. With his jaw still clenching and grinding, he pulled himself straight just as Rhaena tightened the loop she had around his arm. She cleared her throat as she eyed their mothers, “it was Ser Cole. And Ser Fell and initially Ser Thorne as well. But Ser Thorne was persuaded to act according to his duty and he fled to inform you all before anything truly happened.”

At a glance, Rhaena had glared down at the broken bleeding whimpering mess that was now Ser Cole, Ser Fell at very least had managed to keep his groaning to a minimum like a true knight of the realm who still carried some sense of dignity.

“But I do believe Ser Cole orchestrated this, he led the attack, he bribed these servants,” Rhaena continued, her body clung closer to Aemond’s when she mentioned the deceased servants but her voice remained leveled, “he deserves to face the full punishment for his actions.”

Diplomatic as always, his little wife.

Rhaenyra sighed heavily, stretching out a hand for Rhaena to take. Rhaena would, but she managed to pull Aemond along with her. The murderous trance he’d fallen under finally eased and faded clear as his elder sister gently cupped his cheek with a warm hand. The soft gesture had been paired with a warm motherly expression, one that startled him back just slightly. Then his own mother moved in closer then, softly holding his available wrist, her face riddled with deep concern and worry as her furrowed brows prodded him non-verbally. She wanted to hear his words on the matter…he wanted to finish Cole off.

“It is true,” Aemond finally bit back, his eye returning to Cole’s kneeling form on the floor, he hadn’t realized just how heavily he’d been breathing until he felt Rhaena’s hand comfortably rub and squeeze his forearm, allowing him to continue speaking, “I believe Cole orchestrated this on his own, it was unorganized and easily dispatched. He was irate, and he tried to wound if not kill my wife. He deserves to be executed.”

“No!” Cole yelled, but immediately gritted then cried as Daemon stepped closer.

“You fucking dared to touch my daughter! That cut on her neck, that was you!” Daemon boomed, "I think my daughter and nephew are right, what you've done calls for an execution, no one need worry, I’ll be quick,” Daemon was a beacon of fury, Dark Sister was placed beside Cole’s Adam's apple and that was when the threat suddenly slid into reality.

Daemon's sword moved swiftly…

And then it was done.

Like a moment suspended in time, Aemond heard his sister and his mother scream.

“Daemon, no!” Rhaenyra had spoken firmly.

“Daemon!” Alicent shrieked.

But the slice came swiftly, clean and smooth, Criston Cole's head was easily severed from his body.

In the moment, Aemond had felt the moment Rhaena hid her face against his arm, a small gasp escaped her as she squeezed her eyes shut for just a few minutes. Reflexively, his arms surrounded her, but Aemond had his eye on Cole's lifeless body slumping over as it crumpled down onto the stone floor…down with the others…laid in a pool of his own blood.

And with that…Aemond's chest felt slightly lighter. He supposed it would be a bittersweet victory, he'd wanted to hear the knight cry in agony as he finally realized the error of his decisions. He wanted Cole to suffer…to bleed out slowly and die from the exhaustion and the pain.

Daemon had made it quick. Much like he had with Vaemond Velaryon, Dark Sister sliced with precision and their lives were cut short immediately.

But at least the cunt was dead.

"Fucking hell," Rhaenyra sighed, her fingers squeezing the bridge of her nose.

"Daemon…" Alicent gasped, shock and horror clearly evident in her wide eyes, "what…what have you done, he was a member of the King's Guard! He deserved a trial at least."

“This was his trial ," Daemon cooly responded, cleaning the fresh blood from his blade with a swift flick and wipe against his pants leg before he slickly sheathed his sword.

Rhaenyra only made a quick glance towards her former sworn sword, pursing her lips as her face settled into one of resolution, "it matters not, it is done now. Criston Cole had threatened royalty, he threatened a Crown Prince and Princess. Trial or no, the sentence would have been execution anyhow."

It was true, a fact everyone present here clearly knew and understood…though it seemed Aemond’s own mother was determined to remain blind to it.

"Rhaenyra-" Alicent had started.

“Alicent," Rhaenyra was quick to interject, she did not sound particularly harsh but her voice certainly lacked any sense of sympathy, “he attacked our children, acted on treasonous plots, attempted to harm my daughter and your son…I do believe he faced the correct punishment. He’s escaped it before, but thankfully…not this time.”

Daemon came around to place a gentle hand on Rhaena's back, drawing her attention away from Aemond's chest long enough for him to press a fatherly kiss to her forehead. In a low voice, he simply said "go, we'll handle things from here," Daemon gave a simple nod to Aemond, and so he followed the command.

As they began to move, Rhaenyra also motioned for them to return to their chambers, her brows had furrowed with deep concern as she watched them leave. Aemond would guess that was due to their current condition. Aemond himself had a good amount of blood splattered on himself, and now some of it had been pressed on to Rhaena's shirt as well.

As they walked down the corridor, a troop of Gold Cloak knights quickly shuffled by them in uniformed lines on either side of them. In the distance, Aemond was sure he'd heard his uncle laugh, "let it go Alicent, the Dornish swine deserved more than the simple removal of his white cloak. Even though he clearly has never earned the right to truly wear it."

In the end, Criston Cole and the three servants' bodies were cleared and lifted away, servants and maids would be called to clean the blood from the walls and the floor.

Ser Fell was pulled to his feet by two Gold Cloaks and marched down to the dungeons with Ser Thorne in tow as well.

And to think, earlier this morning Aemond might have thought he could have avoided such bloodshed.

He'd been wrong.

Every Westerosi wedding was doomed to end in bloodshed.

☾

By the time they’d returned to their chambers, a scalding hot bath had been drawn for them. On the walk over Rhaena hadn’t said much, though neither had Aemond. Not until they’d both shed their clothes and stepped into the tub. He was not entirely sure what he was meant to say, it wasn’t as if he needed to explain himself or his actions.

Aemond had done his duty by protecting her, his lawful wife, he stopped a clear plot of rebellion from progressing any further than it had.

She could not possibly be upset with him…and he knew she was not frightened of him.

He just could not decipher what she was feeling now.

The bath water was calming though, and just as he sunk himself beneath the surface, he felt her hand on his knee. As per usual, they were sitting at opposite ends of the large tub, his long legs encircled around her body. At her soft touch, he pulled him up above the surface, combing his fingers through his hair as he wiped the water from his eye. Watching his Princess as her mouth opened and closed, words failing her in a rather unusual fashion.

Finally Aemond simply sighed, “just say it, Rhaena.”

She was nibbling on her lower lip now, swallowing thickly before her voice softly spoke his name,

“Aemond…”

“Yes?” he quirked a brow, feeling slightly impatient.

Her pale violet eyes gazed at him carefully before the look softened as she scooted herself closer to him. Then she paused, looked as if she might finally speak and then…nothing once again. Aemond didn’t bother to push again, instead he just gritted as he watched her brows begin to furrow, as she’d began to move even closer to him. The soft sound of her sighing as she all but slid herself up onto his lap and simply curled herself in against him, her chin nuzzling in the crook of his neck as her arms wrapped around his neck. He wouldn’t waste any time folding his arms around her, pressing her soft warmth against him, breathing her in and calming his own nerves.

He hadn’t even noticed the way his heart had been pounding, but it subsided almost immediately once his dragoness was in his arms again.

“Do you remember, yesterday…the tourney,” her voice warmly flowed against him, “I was so upset and angry with you, because I thought you’d been reckless. It was dangerous and I was frightened…so frightened over what could have happened. But that was a tourney…and tonight…”

Rhaena’s voice had cracked then, and for the first time since the ambush, he was sure he understood her truly. He’d been wondering why or how he’d managed not to frighten her after what she’d seen, but it was far more obvious when she compared it to yesterday's tourney. His doubts always plaguing him, if he could ever just view the obvious facts.

His wife loved him, so much so that she was far more scared for his well being than she was of his actions.

“Rhaena…” his low voice spoke lowly, but she only cut him off.

Pulling herself back enough to look into his eye and his Sapphire, holding his face in her hands, she smoothed the damp tendrils of his hair away from his face. It was there in the low candle light where he noticed the tears in her eyes, a sight that forced him to swallow a harsh lump.

“No, Aemond, tonight felt far more…” she sniffled as the tears tumbled down her cheeks, her voice was all wobbly and shaky, “at least in the tourney, it was about sportsmanship. Tonight Criston Cole truly wished to harm you…he wished to hurt me. And I know you mentioned his plots…your grandfather's plots…but hearing Criston tonight. He sounded so adamant…so wild. You could've been hurt."

Why was she so concerned with his well being when she was the one who had a blade to her throat…

Aemond quickly pulled her closer, gently wiping her tears with his thumb. The pained sounds she was making were drawing fracture line cracks all along his heart, “Rhaena, I'm fine…I am unharmed. Fuck him, I’m glad he’s dead…honestly I wish I’d been the one to do it. I had the chance… he had a fucking sword to your throat."

That venomous rage he’d felt earlier was building up again, even as he let his thumb glide over her throat. Just seeing the small cut incensed him.

It never should have happened.

Cole should've never made it over to her.

Fuck.

Every scar on his Princess' body was meant to be his to claim. Now she had this mark that would forever remind him of Criston fucking Cole.

"I can't decide how to feel," she groaned, resting her forehead on his shoulder, "I was not frightened for myself. Not really. The worst part really…I've never seen so much blood…severed limbs…heads. All of that…death . I know those men earned it, deserved it… they attacked you first. They attacked us…royalty. Ugh, I just feel wretched, and this ridiculous cut from that disgusting knight's sword."

Well there it was, just about everything he figured was weighing on her.

Though he never expected his sweet little Princess to say the words 'those men earned it' he most definitely was rubbing off on her.

"Fetch me your dagger," had been his only response, he couldn’t exactly quell all of her worries tonight, but he could do one thing. The one element of tonight that truly burned and bothered him. And it seemed it had bothered her just as much.

That fucking cut.

He regretted tasking her with leaving his embrace for just a moment, but he relished in the complete trust she had in him to simply retrieve her weapon and return to him. The idea was simple and it honestly felt like the only solution to the incessant nagging in his mind that he couldn't seem to ignore.

Criston Cole had left his mark on this world…and he left it on Rhaena Targaryen.

No.

Rhaena belonged to Aemond and he could not have a mark left by such an insignificant man gracing her skin.

It would seem she agreed.

So when she returned, handing him her prized Valyrian steel dagger, he casually motioned for her to re-enter the tub and resume her previous position.

"Aemond, what are you going to do," Rhaena eyed him with slight skepticism even as she did as he bade. Once he had her where he wanted her, he tilted her chin up high enough to expose her throat to him.

The slit itself was a shallow one, and he aimed to keep it that way, but he also aimed to make it his , "do you trust me," at her nod, he pressed a warm kiss to the corner of her jaw. Then he proceeded to quickly draw that dagger's blade over her cut, reopening the small slit before quickly drawing a line diagonally across it. She'd only winced at the pricking of her skin, bright bubbling blood forming from the new wound.

The wound he now made his.

Now everytime he looked at this little X at the base of her throat, he wouldn't have to think of Cole's blade. No he could just think of this moment, quietly sitting in a tub with his beloved dragoness…claiming her always.

Once he was done, he placed the dagger down on a nearby chair before holding his wife closely to him. Pressing his lips against the new wound as if he was christening it.

And there he saw the faintest of smiles grace her lips, he'd blame Cole for the rest of his life, solely for ruining the very end of his wedding night.

"I love you," she sighed softly, claiming his lips sweetly, her fingers running through his hair as he smiled against her lips. He knew that also counted as a thank you for claiming her wound, for protecting her, for loving her just as much.

As his hands roamed along her back, he could feel her heart begin to calm against him, no longer battering emotionally within her chest.

This night could still be salvaged yet.

When he broke their kiss, he rested his forehead against hers, their breath mingling as they caught their breath, "well now we both have neck wounds"

"I think yours was a lot worse," she smirked down at him, "but if you’d like, I could claim it as well."

His breath had caught at the thought, he hadn’t even considered it when it occurred. But if this was her offer, he’d gladly take it.

Aemond grinded his jaw at the thought before exposing the injured side of his neck to her. It was still very sore, but he hadn’t paid much attention to it this evening. His mind had been quite occupied, “make it yours then, I’d rather see it and think of you than the bloody Northern hound."

"Maester Gerardys will not be happy with me, ruining his perfect stitches," his Princess bit back an oncoming set of giggles, but either way he was glad that she was smiling now, bright and beautiful. Even with her eyes still red puffy, her nose and cheeks slightly rosy all due to her recently shed tears…she still looked positively perfect to him.

"Are you stalling now, sweet girl," he grinned slowly, nipping at the curve of her neck as he drew small little giggles from her, “claim it, I’ll deal with the Maester.”

With the most satisfied exhale he'd ever heard from her, she caressed his hair and nodded, "very well, hold still, my dragon." He watched from the corner of his eye as she reached for her dagger, but he closed it once he felt the cool steel of her blade drag across his stitches, cutting them slowly, hesitantly, as the blade burned the wounded line. He didn’t flinch or wince, clenching his jaw only slightly, as she added a shallow slice across it, the flicker that truly made it hers.

All the while his blood sang at the intimacy of the action, his heart soaring as she’d finished. The final touch, just as he’d done with her, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his bleeding wound, christening it.

"I think I should send for a Maester now," she smiled down at him, but before she could leave him, he gently grasped her chin, pulling her lips to his for another soft kiss. Drowning in the taste of her, the blood on their lips mixing and mingling between them, he savoured the feeling. Savoured the present moment entirely really, he'd saved his Rhaena…kept her safe and unharmed.

And thankfully now, she was all his…to have and to hold.

For the rest of his life.

P.S. EEEEEEK! If you saw my tumblr updates, these last two scenes (Criston's ambush/death/aftermath) were the scenes that had me stuck for like a whole month! I wasn't sure if I wanted to kill him, but I knew there would be some blood and gore here. I just couldn't decide what direction I was going to go in, originally he was going to live, but Aemond was going to torture him a bit…which seemed a bit darker to me LOL. Either way Otto's "plots and plans" had to be dealt with now sooo yeahh GOODBYE CRISTON!!

- I had about 3 or 4 other scenes that were originally going to be apart of this chapter, but either I severely underestimated the length of the scenes I was writing or I overestimated my ability to get those done for this chapter…either way, I've decided to just start CH.5 with those scenes instead. And have the time jump moved to the middle of CH.5 or over to Ch.6. Either way, CH.5 is officially going to be a Rhaena POV chapter. The events of the "wedding night ambush" have absolutely affected her a bit.

Now I've started writing chapter 5 already! Fingers crossed I don't take another fucking month to drop that one!

#rhaena x aemond #aemond x rhaena #rhaena targaryen #aemond targaryen #hotd fic #hotd fanfic #rhaemond #aemond smut #rhaena smut #daemon targeryan #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #criston cole #hotd smut

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spotsupstuff · 2 years ago

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Now that we saw the finale, we know the reasons why lbd wanted to clean up the world,and I wonder..I wonder how macaque would react to the death of lbd in your skullplum?

PHEWWWWWWW aight lets see -cracks fingers-

TLDR; depeshioumn, mourning n ur typical chinese honoring the dead

White Bone Spirit's motivations in Fruit Twins are different than in canon. That is smth i can't really,,, change, because her Canon motivations become pretty much solved Because of her relationship with Six Ear which happens before she ultimately breaks beyond repair (aka the idea that the only way she can reach what she wants for the world is thru destroying it). Xiaotian in canon proves her wrong by pointing out the positives of life and that the world is worth to keep alive because of people one cares about and for the experience of being cared for

Effectively, Six Ear does the exact same thing except millenia before Xiaotian is born. So with that solved, the canon finale doesn't really,, matters to this au. Just wanna settle that real quick

Now to the actual death part...

WBS dies two months after the end of FT!s3. What the plan IS right now is that after the final fight, Nezha takes her up into the heaven to be judged by the Heavenly Court for her crimes against the mortal realm and the celestial realm. But! Shes already dying so they end up just kinda shrugging n keepin her locked up in some kind of room until she finally fades away so they dont gotta really do much of any work about this. It's a tad complicated why she's fading but basically WBS died in FT during The Journey like she does in the book and then she came back thru a spell that worked only cuz as a Jing she "should be granted justice" against Sun Wukong but he suffers no consequences for killing her, therefore she manifests herself back to deliver the justice herself. Stuff happens in the finale that break her logic supporting her claim this is "justice" what she's doing and so the spell breaks right along

She ends up dying in Six Ear's arms. On request of SWK to Nezha, Nezha brings her down into the mortal realm to live off her remaining time with Six in his kwoon/factory-turned-house. Her memories start slipping before she dies so it's all sad cuz at some point she, all concerned, strokes Six's face and asks him what's that big scar on the right side of his face doing there and by the end of her life she just straight up does not remember him at all

So Six ends up mourning for a long time, probably washes the dress that was left behind after her body turned to flakes and hides it somewhere in one of his closets. He ends up distancing himself from the crew except Sha Dali cuz he has to attend therapy, he's still struggling with the "addiction" he had to WBS' light, prolly drinks a lot- that kinda kush

Eventually he bounces back thanks to Sha Dali being there for him n also cuz he still has Clementine there who he loves way too much to not try and get out of his grief at LEAST for Her if not for himself

Long term-wise, he will probably forever miss WBS. Even years after her death he stays in love with the idea of her and what she used to be before everything went wrong, though he does end up recognizing how much hurt she has also caused him after she was let out of her grave by the Bull family. His lowkey obsession/hung-upness about her ends up creating some rifts between him and Clem that they will have to deal with thru communication, since Six has way wider variety of experiences with Baigu than Clem

To say the least, he ends up burning incense n leaving food at a shrine he builds for her either in his home or somewhere nearby where he can attend to it

#Spot says stuff #skullplum #fruit twins au #i realized that like this its either impossible or gon be hard as fuck to have xiaotian connected to wbs in any kind of way n im PISSED #FUCK i played myself AGAIN. i just cant stop XBOXING

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tossawary · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 26 “ What You Want” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” quotes and commentary. Not a full list of favorite quotes or full commentary.

Oh, this got so long, though. I was like, “An opportunity to wax poetic about Moshang dynamics and characterization? An opportunity to talk about why my interpretations of Mobei-Jun and Shang Qinghua are Like That? SIGN ME UP.”

【Beginning next mission stage.】

【Death of the Author - Part 2: The Secret Basement of Shang Qinghua.】

【Mission objective: place the Weeper’s Eye on the pedestal.】

Shang Qinghua slowly sits up on his sofa. He stares at the pop-up window for however long it takes his brain to roll over completely.

“I don’t have a fucking basement?” he says finally.

AN: I have been waiting to use “I don’t have a fucking basement?” for months. Also, it’s been years for him, so Shang Qinghua is a little oblivious, BUT I would like to point readers all the way back to some paragraphs from Chapter 2.

Excerpt from Chapter 2: “A Horseshoe Nail”:

Shang Qinghua considers the point loss. What are his excuses character motivations here? Why is his unmerciful System not completely skewering him for this?

He is the servant of a demon lord, Mobei-Jun, the future Northern King, so he has a greater investment than most cultivators in the future of the Demon Realm, so it’s not unreasonable for him to seek out any bastards of Tianlang-Jun without handing the demon baby over to a righteous sect. He’s also a Peak Lord of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, so it’s not unreasonable for him to be interested in any rumors of the whereabouts of Su Xiyan or what happened to her, for political leverage or whatever. The character of Shang Qinghua originally was and still is a spy - on top of being a shameless coward willing to cling to anyone’s thighs and then stab them in the back, in order to stay alive or advance himself.

There are plenty of magical artifacts in this world that might give a power-grubbing weakling like Shang Qinghua an insight into the future. As Peak Lord of An Ding, Shang Qinghua is, in fact, in a pretty good place to get his greedy hands on one of these magical artifacts. Isn’t that what a good spy and overall ambitious snake would do?

Especially a spy serving a demon lord extremely likely to get fed up with him and kill him at some point? While also serving a righteous cultivation sect extremely likely to execute him for eventually betraying them? Of course Shang Qinghua would obviously want to know how to save his own ass from these ticking time-bombs! And how better to save his own ass than shamelessly clinging to the golden thighs of the protagonist, who will one day conquer every other demon lord and all righteous sects?

Following Luo Binghe means being on the endgame winning team!

Shang Qinghua looks over the pop-up window’s numbers over again, in regards to the loss of points. True, how exactly he tracked down Su Xiyan’s half-demon baby when the Huan Hua Palace Master failed is a bit of a plot-hole, but the rest can be easily explained away with a bit of creativity!

Oh, the rest of the cultivation world didn’t know Su Xiyan was pregnant? Well, Shang Qinghua is a slimy, sneaky spy, who would of course guess that a female cultivator might suddenly disappear like that for months-on-end due to a secret pregnancy! And given that Su Xiyan’s reputation had been linked to a passionately self-destructive Tianlang-Jun… Okay, he can feel the anti-fan rage at that mildly sexist line of thinking, but it stands! It stands!

Now, Shang Qinghua just has to… actually decide… whether or not he wants to take the point loss, in order to save the life of his protagonist son’s adoptive mother, Luo Jiahui.

Shang Qinghua, my darling fool of an Author God, your System is listening to the things you say and think.

I have been WORKING here to foreshadow where I’m going with this story. I’m pretty sure that every single endgame plot point has shown up and is now in play in PINTWILF. Shang Qinghua, due to situational awareness, is dealing with too much in-world shit to narrow things down easily, but it’s all there! It will hopefully not seem as though I’m pulling things out of nowhere in the next and final part (Part 4) of this fic.

“This makes me look crazy, bro,” Shang Qinghua complains to the System. “It really does. I already have to be careful about talking to the secret, world-controlling system that lives in my head and this? This is not making me look any more stable! Where did this come from? Where the fuck did I even get it?! ”

Oh, things are coming together in Shang Qinghua’s head and he doesn’t know if he really likes the picture. On one hand, it’s always nice to actually have someone or something to blame for things beyond the fucking System. On the other hand, he really doesn’t know how the fuck he’s supposed to sleep at night with a full-length, polished silver mirror with an ornate golden frame under his house.

AN: Shang Qinghua, have you noticed that you’ve stopped losing points for continuity errors and plot holes? Shang Qinghua, you know that the people in your life have noticed that you know too much. They’ve just decided not to question you about it because you always look like you’re going to faint when they do, then you laugh and change the subject.

But now Shen Qingqiu is on to you and he’s not so easy to shake.

(Plus Shen Yuan! They’re terriers, SQH!)

He turns away from the mirror, only for a second System window to pop up in front of him. Only… the design of this one is different. Familiar, though! It takes Shang Qinghua a second to place it as Peerless Cucumber- as Shen Yuan’s Transmigration System.

【 Users cannot be injured, killed, or trapped inside the looking-glass! The user will not be able to touch or be touched by anything inside the looking-glass! The user will be returned from the looking-glass within thirty minutes, unharmed! A substantial point reward is attached to this bonus mission. 】

“Right,” Shang Qinghua says.

This second pop-up window then shifts colors and is ruthlessly closed before his eyes. Ah, wow, Shang Qinghua kind of feels like he just saw someone get murdered here.

“...How many points?” he asks finally, reluctantly curious.

AN: Having the Systems fight is so much fun. My setup here in PINTWILF has it so that there’s a main Worldbuilding System that does its best to maintain the world, then each transmigrator has their own personal Transmigration System managing their case.

This is so the Worldbuilding System can maintain the world without the presence of transmigrators, and so the personal Systems can potentially follow their transmigrators into another world. All the Systems interact with each other in order to try to manage things and there are... issues.

Look, the thing about simulated (or managed) realities for me is... someone coded the thing (or did some equivalent of coding the thing), and whether or not this thing in question is the world or just the System, if there are multiple entities trying to manage things, there’s going to be fuck-ups. You can’t have two cooks in the kitchen without points where the two cooks get in each other’s way at least a little bit. If there are multiple Systems, then you’re going to have friction, and that friction can be funny.

Inspired by me trying to run two heavy art programs on my computer at once and being like, “Oh, boy, please don’t burst into flames while duking it out in there. Oh, man, you two were NOT made to operate together, huh?”

He knows he’s right when he walks away from some kind of important-looking procession, stepping into the next room at the same time as someone else, who looks directly at him and doesn’t look away. Shang Qinghua freezes in the doorway and doesn’t let himself stare so much as he can’t stop himself.

“Oh, no,” Shang Qinghua thinks.

There’s a man standing in front of him, tall and broad-shouldered, with an ageless youth, but a sharp gaze and no youthful roundness to his features. His curly black hair has been cursorily held back from his face by a golden ornament, but is otherwise loose, and he wears his ornate red and black robes well and correctly, but like a man with a hundred more.

The man flicks a strong hand at the doors behind Shang Qinghua, which slam shut with a bang, like he’s done this a thousand times before.

He smiles unkindly. “Shang-Shishu,” he says, like he’s tasting the title, considering tearing it apart with his teeth. “So it's true. How curious.”

There’s no way for Shang Qinghua to count how many times he’s seen this face before, but he’s never seen it like this. The man looks like an emperor. He looks like a god. The red mark of the Heavenly Demons burns like a crown in the middle of his forehead.

Shang Qinghua takes an unwilling step back.

“What are you afraid of?” the original Luo Binghe says, still smiling. “We’re only talking.”

AN: I tried to make this meeting mirror Shang Qinghua and Luo Binghe’s first scene in Part 3 of the fic, in which we finally meet the Luo Binghe (Shang Qinghua’s nephew) who is going to interact with the PIDW plot.

Excerpt from Chapter 18: “The Inevitable Plot”:

The restaurant is closed when Shang Qinghua lets himself in. The tables in the dining room are still packed up, lit by dim light through shuttered windows, and the only sign of another person are the chopping sounds coming from the brightness of the kitchen. Shang Qinghua stops in the doorway and lets himself stare.

There’s a young teenage boy standing at the counter, thirteen going on fourteen, still not yet near his adult height (taller than Shang Qinghua, a fact he's still not prepared to face), still carrying a youthful roundness to his features. Shang Qinghua has seen him like this a hundred times before: curly black hair tied back, a kerchief covering his head to keep it out of his eyes, a slightly yellowed matching apron neatly tied just the way his mother taught him, and intent on the work in front of him. His hands are quick, the knife sharp and sure, and the movements of food preparation work slide right into each other like he’s done this a thousand times before.

When did the boy get so big? It didn’t happen all at once; it snuck up on them, hiding dastardly in plain sight! Shang Qinghua remembers when his nephew barely came up to his waist. Fuck, Shang Qinghua remembers when his nephew couldn’t walk. What is this? Who allowed time to pass like this?

Luo Binghe scrapes the chopped vegetables off the board and into the basket beside him, before putting down the knife and turning around. He smiles.

There’s no way for Shang Qinghua to count how many times he’s seen that before.

“Uncle,” the protagonist says fondly. “You’re here.”

“Let’s talk,” Luo Binghe calls out, cajoling now. “Stop running and speak to me and perhaps old hurts can be forgiven. All that condonation and betrayal is so far in the past now. This lord can be merciful, Shang Qinghua. Just speak: how many things have you been hiding...?”

AN: This is PIDW Luo Binghe, by the way.

Once I realized I was going to have a room full of fortune-telling devices, I was like... “Ooh! Bing-Ge scene! I should have a Bing-Ge scene!” Because, like, that’s the curse of SVSSS transmigrator protagonists who trip into caring about Luo Binghe, baby!

Shang Qinghua takes some deep breaths to calm his poor, weak heart, and nearly falls to the floor anyway! But he catches himself!

And then a large, cold hand wraps around his arm to steady him. It’s the cold that keeps him from lashing out and probably breaking his own hand. Instead, he looks up, heart still pounding in his ears, into the frowning face of Mobei-Jun.

“Oh, you have the worst timing,” Shang Qinghua breathes.

Mobei-Jun’s expression twitches and he lets go.

“No!” Shang Qinghua chases the hand with his own, catching it before the man can get too far. “My king, I’m so glad to see you! Thank you for finally coming! I have so much to say,” he says quickly. “I-”

Before he realizes that he’s essentially holding Mobei-Jun’s hand for no reason now - ah, now that’s something he never would have dared to do like twenty years ago - and carefully drops it. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the panic still racing through his veins. And then promptly realizes that Mobei-Jun is here. The demon lord is here in this secret basement.

AN: Moshang in this fic is... hmmm... a little weird sometimes, because a lot of it has been happening in the background. A lot of it has been unspoken until Shang Qinghua’s breakdown and until now.

Shang Qinghua isn’t actually as scared of Mobei-Jun in this fic as he is in SVSSS, and I hope that comes across. When he had his breakdown, part of it was fear, but a large part of it was also actually anger. Shang Qinghua was afraid of how the System had changed his life, but he was also angry about this loss of control. Yes, he was terrified of Mobei-Jun because he didn’t know if it was still his Mobei-Jun, which brought lots of old memories and old anger to the surface, in which Shang Qinghua was kind of like, “How dare you think you get to freely touch me after the things you did and never apologized for?”

BUT the status quo in this world, before the World Update, is one in which Mobei-Jun touches Shang Qinghua’s hip without SQH flinching. It’s one in which SQH and MBJ drink and relax together. It’s one in which SQH isn’t afraid to reach out and grab MBJ’s hand, because he misses MBJ.

They’re so close, they just need to actually talk it out.

Shang Qinghua glances at the ladder and the open hole in the floor. “Ah, my king, did you… climb down here looking for me?”

“Yes,” Mobei-Jun answers, looking around with sharp eyes. He doesn’t seem to be very impressed with what he’s seeing. “...What is this place?”

“My, ah, my basement,” Shang Qinghua answers, leaving out the part where he didn’t even know he had one until about an hour ago. The System is determined to make him look like a bit of a madman, huh? “It’s just… just some artifacts and tools. I don’t… I don’t really come down here a lot…”

Mobei-Jun finishes studying the room, then stares at him again, his gaze more piercing than ever.

“The future concerns you this much?” he says.

Shang Qinghua is totally prepared to deny everything, but the phrasing of that cuts off every story he might try to tell. He glances around the room, full of these broken, desperate, stolen things. It’s… reflecting.

“...Yes,” he admits, hoarsely. Then coughs. “I… my king, we should… talk.”

“Yes,” Mobei-Jun agrees.

“But, ah, not here? I don’t… like it here.”

“Yes.”

AN: Mobei-Jun is one of the people who has noticed that Shang Qinghua knows more than he should. And now, thanks to this secret basement, Mobei-Jun has an explanation for why Shang Qinghua knows more than he should!

If you don’t know about the System element, then this basement is actually pretty in-character for the new Shang Qinghua of PINTWILF.

He is so scared of the future. He’s invested in the story now.

Shang Qinghua isn’t surprised at all when the special item speaks again as soon as it’s back in his hand.

Why would it shut up now, after all?

“He has no name but the position he has been promised to, which he may not live to see,” the Weeper’s Eye says, which pulls Shang Qinghua’s gaze back to the demon lord waiting for him. “His father uses him as a tool. His mother is long departed. His uncle wants him dead. He has long known that these broken promises cannot be undone… but he knows new promises may yet be made.”

Mobei-Jun is frowning at the crystal eye in Shang Qinghua’s hand, looking between it and Shang Qinghua’s own eyes.

He’s not dressed-up the same way he was the last time Shang Qinghua saw him - no especially fancy robes or ornaments or jewelry. He looks like himself this time.

“If these ones are not kept, there will be nothing for the nameless man who will be king.”

Shang Qinghua doesn’t move.

AN: I mentioned exploring Mobei-Jun not having a name in the commentary on the previous chapter. I guess that’s my take on PIDW Mobei-Jun... that the man doesn’t really have anything outside of his position. He’s a king, in service to a tyrant, and he’s never going to let anyone in. He’s just... cold... the whole way through. PIDW Mobei-Jun has an icy throne and nothing else.

PINTWILF (and SVSSS) Mobei-Jun has the Airplane version of Shang Qinghua. When Airplane saved MBJ’s life, the System wasn’t making him do it, he made that choice for himself. The System was willing to let MBJ die (and, in my headcanon, be replaced by some ice demon cousin or LGJ). So, MBJ turns around and chooses Shang Qinghua for himself.

Shang Qinghua was like, “No! This character can’t be replaced! You can’t just dress someone else up as Mobei-Jun! You can’t just let the character die! It has to be this man in that role! No one else!”

When Mobei-Jun is coming to talk to Shang Qinghua in this fic, in this moment, he is making this choice for himself, the nameless man who has been promised a position he might not live to see. That’s what the Weeper’s Eye is getting at. If Shang Qinghua doesn’t want to hear the promises Mobei-Jun is will to make him, there might as well not be anything in Mobei-Jun’s future to make him an individual, more than a cold figure acting out a part.

“...Shang Qinghua,” Mobei-Jun says finally. “I will not hurt you.”

Shang Qinghua’s gaze snaps from the crystal eye in his hand, back to the demon lord standing by the exit to this secret basement.

“We will speak,” Mobei-Jun says solemnly, slowly, like someone repeating the lines of a script. “I wish to be understood by you. I have not known how. Yet I must try now… in my own words… and you must listen.”

Shang Qinghua swallows.

The anger - the frustration - breaking through at the end there sounds more like the man he knows. He’s pretty sure that’s meant to be a request, but it sounds like an order.

AN: After their last conversation, Mobei-Jun had a lot of soul-searching to do, and one of the conclusions he came to is that he can’t take anything for granted. He has to made explicitly clear, using words, which is apparently what matters with humans and with this human in particular, everything he feels. He can’t take the risk of continuing to hurt Shang Qinghua by letting the man think that he doesn’t regret hurting him or may hurt him again someday.

He puts the Weeper’s Eye down.

He’s really sick of this thing. He doesn't want to carry it around all the time.

It only tells him things he knows, anyway.

AN: We’ll get into the Weeper’s Eye in future chapters, but it’s... it’s not really a mind-reading device. It kind of is. It is a little bit. But part of the reason it’s so informative here is that Shang Qinghua is holding it and Shang Qinghua actually knows a lot about his characters and the people in his life.

Even the original characters, like Fanli, he knows well. She’s his family. He’s privy to Fanli’s problems through Jiahui and Liu Qingge if nothing else.

With Shen Yuan, he doesn’t know the kid well yet, but his fellow transmigrator isn’t that difficult to read and he’s been where Shen Yuan is.

Shang Qinghua putting the Weeper’s Eye down here is a show of trust of sorts. It’s a way of telling himself to get out of his own head, away from character roles and exaggerated panic, and put himself in the moment with someone he knows and... well... trusts and wants to trust even more.

Shang Qinghua follows Mobei-Jun out of the basement, removing the spiritual seal from the wall, which makes the creepy basement entrance disappear, then replacing the flower that covered it. He hesitantly follows the demon lord back to the main room of his Leisure House. He has no idea how to stand, suddenly, or where to stand.

Mobei-Jun looks very determined.

“So, ah, should we… sit?”

“No,” Mobei-Jun replies, then abruptly says, “Shang Qinghua, you do not have to fear me. I do not wish to cause you any pain. Now or in the future.”

Shang Qinghua stares, wide-eyed.

That’s not… something he ever expected to hear explicitly.

Good! It's good, though! Very good.

It's great, really.

“...Thank you,” he says, stunned. “I don’t want to cause you pain either?”

“You have shown as much. Many times.”

This is probably not the time for an “Yes, I did tell you so” in any form!

Instead, trying to remember all the speeches he prepared while waiting, Shang Qinghua says, “You have too! In your own way! I just… my king, last time you visited was a… it was a very bad day for me. I apologize for my behavior! I was speaking from a place of-”

“Fear,” Mobei-Jun interrupts darkly. “Well-deserved.”

“Ah, well…”

“You believed that I would hurt you, in your state,” Mobei-Jun says.

“I was… it was very a bad and confused state, my king.”

“...You do not trust me.”

Shang Qinghua’s voice dries up on him. He wouldn’t put it that way, exactly! That sounds pretty terrible when said in such a blunt way. They’ve moved past that, haven’t they? It’s more that he trusts different people with different things! He trusts Luo Jiahui to be Luo Jiahui, and Liu Qingge to be Liu Qingge, and Mobei-Jun… to be Mobei-Jun.

AN: Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun got really far without explicitly talking about things, but at some point that stopped cutting it.

“I have hurt you before,” Mobei-Jun says, looking at him directly. “From a place of fear… of anger… of… misunderstanding. I am… sorry for this. I will not do so again. I was wrong to treat you in such a way.”

Shang Qinghua takes in a deep breath… and out again.

Fuck, it feels like his eyes are burning.

“You have my respect,” Mobei-Jun says quietly, urgently, not letting up on getting all of these words out into the open. “You have my regard. You have my trust. Yet I have not shown this in a way that you have understood, so you could not share this. I have demanded your loyalty without being deserving of it.”

“My king,” Shang Qinghua protests, taking a step forward. “I was- I should have said-”

“You did. Many times. In many ways. I did not understand.”

“I wasn’t very clear either-”

“It was my responsibility to be clear. I must be clear now.”

“You’re being very clear now,” Shang Qinghua agrees quickly. If things get any clearer here, if any more of the things they’ve left unspoken get said, his heart won’t be able to take it. “Thank you, my king. It means- thank you."

Mobei-Jun nods. He looks relieved.

AN: I wanted to write a version of Moshang that felt... a little more mature? Shang Qinghua has developed a lot in this fic. He has grown as a person. And Mobei-Jun has seen this growth over the years.

Mobei-Jun has also been able to see into this Shang Qinghua in a way that wasn’t available in SVSSS canon. I think that SVSSS Shang Qinghua was locked the fuck down. I think he was almost completely inaccessible and offered very, very few openings for connection.

But in this universe, Mobei-Jun actually knows a lot more about Shang Qinghua. He knows what motivates Shang Qinghua. He knows that Shang Qinghua is a doting uncle and a doting older brother. He knows that Shang Qinghua has come to care for his sect. He knows that Shang Qinghua is intelligent and resourceful and funny. They drink together and talk politics! Mobei-Jun knows that Shang Qinghua is loyal and tired and trustworthy.

So... there was an opening here that didn’t exist in SVSSS canon.

And Mobei-Jun took it.

Shang Qinghua knows that cultural differences are a hell of a thing here, but everything being understandable in hindsight didn't make it not fucking hurt. It still hurts, even finally having the apology he never thought he'd get.

"...We’ve been pretty bad at understanding each other, huh?”

“It has often seemed as though we were not meant to meet,” the demon lord says softly.

Shang Qinghua, who can't imagine getting through his transmigration experience without meeting this man, thinks over all the unknowing irony in that statement.

"...Maybe."

“The differences are… significant.”

Shang Qinghua laughs, almost disbelieving. “That’s a word for it!”

"But not impassable."

"Ah… I… hope not."

AN: I’ll probably make a separate post for this, but I love Moshang transmigrator reveals. Bingqiu transmigrator reveals are mostly about the Abyss, which is great, because that needs clearing up. MOSHANG transmigrator reveals are like, “My weak human husband is a god???”

Also love it when MBJ is like, “Yes, this makes sense.”

“I have never known what you have wanted from me,” Mobei-Jun says next, like a confession. “Your life, you have said, time and time again. Though I am only alive by your grace. You demand none of what you deserve of me.”

“...I don’t think ‘deserve’ is a good word for this,” Shang Qinghua says, which probably isn’t the right thing to say, but he’s really too stunned to come up with anything better. He really didn’t prepare for the right conversation here. “Aha, sorry, my king. It’s just… I don’t think I like to think about it in terms of ‘owing’ anymore. Between us. At least… not like some sort of strict balance? I do something nice for you, you owe me. You do something bad to me, I get to hurt you. Not… not like that.”

Mobei-Jun thinks about it.

“Sorry, I don’t really know what I’m saying-”

“You are deserving of better than what I have given you,” Mobei-Jun insists, determinedly. “I do not understand you. I have never understood you.”

Shang Qinghua feels the same way.

“But I would like to,” Mobei-Jun says next. “I would if you would allow it.”

AN: Mobei-Jun is only alive because Shang Qinghua saved him and he knows it! And Shang Qinghua has never made the demands he should have made, having that kind of leverage over Mobei-Jun!

I’ve always wondered if this is deeply romantic by demon standards. Like, not inherently romantic. But I would bet that Mobei-Jun really likes the idea of a relationship where no one is keeping score... no one is granting favors to use like a leash of obligation... no one owes the other things they don’t want to give. I would bet that Mobei-Jun really, really likes the idea of a relationship where affection is freely given because the people in it want to give it.

He does feel as though he owes Shang Qinghua, but I think Mobei-Jun likes the idea that his favor is his to give just because he wants to give it.

Mobei-Jun lifts a hand, slowly, and holds it out.

Shang Qinghua thinks about it.

He thinks about it again.

He reaches back and puts his hand in Mobei-Jun’s own, which is as cool to the touch as always, and moves over his skin carefully. His hold is so light that Shang Qinghua could break it without any issue at all.

They stay there, like that, looking at each other.

Looking at their hands, holding without hurting, after everything. It's such a small gesture.

It feels kind of like a miracle.

AN: I am... a huge fucking sucker for Mobei-Jun holding Shang Qinghua waaaaay too lightly because he won’t risk hurting Shang Qinghua again. Like, this man is going to take it from the top. No more assumptions.

“What do you want, Shang Qinghua?” Mobei-Jun says, voice turning up at the end, in the closest thing that the man might ever come to helplessness. “What do you want from this?”

“I…” Shang Qinghua wipes at his burning eyes with his free hand. This is kind of pitiful. “Fuck.”

Mobei-Jun lifts his free hand and uses his own sleeve to wipe at Shang Qinghua’s tears, like his robes aren’t important to him at all. “Ask,” the man says, in the tone of a promise. “You do not have to fear the future. Anything I have to give is yours.”

Shang Qinghua gives up on trying to speak and just moves forward to bury his face in Mobei-Jun’s chest. Fuck it. The demon lord who was supposed to kill his character lets him do it. Mobei-Jun holds on to him, arms heavy but still so careful, the man’s chest moving in a sigh that sounds like relief.

This really was too many unspoken things to finally say aloud all at once.

AN: So, yeah! That’s what I’m been building up to with the Jiahui/Qingge marriage and the Qijiu fights and makeup, getting Shang Qinghua to think about what he wants from his relationship with Mobei-Jun. Luo Jiahui and Shen Qingqiu have basically been throwing the question at him repeatedly: “What do you want from this life, Shang Qinghua?”

Because it can’t all be plot! You’ve taken your family for yourself, but you can have more than that! You’ve made so many choices already... you can take this last step and make this choice too. Let Mobei-Jun in.

A lot of Moshang plots end up being “Shang Qinghua’s inability to communicate versus Mobei-Jun’s inability to communicate”. Which is great! That’s Moshang! And some external issue (a rival demon lord, Linguang-Jun, etc.) will end up being the secondary plot which acts as a scenario pusher for the primary plot of the Moshang relationship. Again, great stuff!

But since the romance isn’t the focus of this fic, I decided it would be fun to have a more “Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun versus the problem” take. (Which also shows up in lots of Moshang fics! Definitely not exclusive to this fic at all!) I’m looking forward to having Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun actually try and tackle problems together, as a couple, inside the main “Family of Choice” plot.

Which isn’t to say that Moshang have totally worked out their relationship here. They have only just gotten together. Mobei-Jun still has issues. Shang Qinghua still has many issues. They’ve got a lot to work out together. They’ve never been in a relationship like this before and there’s a lot of people out there who would object to their relationship! Their relationship is going to continue to grow as the fic continues. They’re going to have a few bumps in the road.

But I really like the idea of Mobei-Jun being Shang Qinghua’s rock in this fic. This man has been so stressed. He needs a hug from his ice demon boyfriend who can soothe headaches with a hand.

When Shang Qinghua feels like he has himself more under control, he draws back just far enough to say, “My king, will you kiss me?”

Mobei-Jun’s expression is already soft, at least by his standards. His gaze turns hooded before he leans down as Shang Qinghua leans up. Shang Qinghua takes the man’s face between his hands to kiss him. It feels nice, if uncertain, with the hunger of something a long time coming at the end of it. There's years worth of wanting in this.

It has been so fucking long since Shang Qinghua kissed anyone.

He breaks the kiss and has to stifle laughter, clinging to the front of Mobei-Jun’s robes, which the man never closes properly, so now Shang Qinghua is never going to be able to not thinking about touching it. It’s a very nice chest to touch. He knew it would be.

Mobei-Jun’s brow furrows slightly, his hands staying on Shang Qinghua’s hips.

“What?”

Ah, sorry! Sorry, my king! It’s just- this is such a ridiculous detail to get stuck on, but your lips are kind of cold? I’ve, ah, I’ve always kind of wondered,” Shang Qinghua confesses quietly, without really meaning to actually say it. Holy shit, he’s going to blame saying something like this after that on the fact that he’s had a very long and very weird day. “Sorry. I'm really tired. It's fine. It's good.”

Mobei-Jun snorts and kisses him again, as if to say, “Deal with it.”

AN: Cute! Mobei-Jun likes it when Shang Qinghua laughs. I stand by this.

#tossawary svsss #tossawary commentary #pride is not the word #moshang #mobei jun #shang qinghua

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dfroza · 4 years ago

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“we come closer to God and approach him with an open heart,

fully convinced by faith that nothing will keep us at a distance from him.”

A line from Today’s reading from the book of Hebrews that illuminates a pure treasure.

with the whole chapter in The Passion Translation:

[Christ’s Eternal Sacrifice]

The old system of living under the law presented us with only a faint shadow, a crude outline of the reality of the wonderful blessings to come. Even with its steady stream of sacrifices offered year after year, there still was nothing that could make our hearts perfect before God. For if animal sacrifices could once and for all eliminate sin, they would have ceased to be offered and the worshipers would have clean consciences. Instead, once was not enough so by the repetitive sacrifices year after year, the worshipers were continually reminded of their sins, with their hearts still impure. For what power does the blood of bulls and goats have to remove sin’s guilt?

So when Jesus the Messiah came into the world he said,

“Since your ultimate desire was not another animal sacrifice,

you have clothed me with a body

that I might offer myself instead!

Multiple burnt offerings and sin-offerings

cannot satisfy your justice.

So I said to you, ‘God—

I will be the One to go and do your will,

to fulfill all that is written of me in your Word!’ ”

First he said, “Multiple burnt-offerings and sin-offerings cannot satisfy your justice” (even though the law required them to be offered).

And then he said, “God, I will be the One to go and do your will.” So by being the sacrifice that removes sin, he abolishes animal sacrifices and replaces that entire system with the new covenant. By God’s will we have been purified and made holy once and for all through the sacrifice of the body of Jesus, the Messiah!

Yet every day priests still serve, ritually offering the same sacrifices again and again—sacrifices that can never take away sin’s guilt. But when this Priest had offered the one supreme sacrifice for sin for all time he sat down on a throne at the right hand of God, waiting until all his whispering enemies are subdued and turn into his footstool. And by his one perfect sacrifice he made us perfectly holy and complete for all time!

The Holy Spirit confirms this to us by this Scripture, for the Lord says,

“Afterwards, I will give them this covenant: I will embed my laws into their hearts and fasten my Word to their thoughts.”

And then he says,

“I will not ever again remember their sins and lawless deeds!”

So if our sins have been forgiven and forgotten, why would we ever need to offer another sacrifice for sin?

And now we are brothers and sisters in God’s family because of the blood of Jesus, and he welcomes us to come right into the most holy sanctuary in the heavenly realm—boldly and with no hesitation. For he has dedicated a new, life-giving way for us to approach God. For just as the veil was torn in two, Jesus’ body was torn open to give us free and fresh access to him!

And since we now have a magnificent King-Priest to welcome us into God’s house, we come closer to God and approach him with an open heart, fully convinced by faith that nothing will keep us at a distance from him. For our hearts have been sprinkled with blood to remove impurity and we have been freed from an accusing conscience and now we are clean, unstained, and presentable to God inside and out!

So now we must cling tightly to the hope that lives within us, knowing that God always keeps his promises! Discover creative ways to encourage others and to motivate them toward acts of compassion, doing beautiful works as expressions of love. This is not the time to pull away and neglect meeting together, as some have formed the habit of doing, because we need each other! In fact, we should come together even more frequently, eager to encourage and urge each other onward as we anticipate that day dawning.

For if we continue to persist in deliberate sin after we have known and received the truth, there is not another sacrifice for sin to be made for us. But this would qualify one for the certain, terrifying expectation of judgment and the raging fire ready to burn up his enemies! Anyone who disobeyed Moses’ law died without mercy on the simple evidence of two or three witnesses. How much more severely do you suppose a person deserves to be judged who has contempt for God’s Son, and who scorns the blood of the new covenant that made him holy, and who mocks the Spirit who gives him grace?

For we know him who said,

“I have the right to take revenge

and pay them back for their evil!”

And also,

“The Lord God will judge his own people!”

It is the most terrifying thing of all to come under the judgment of the Living God!

Don’t you remember those days right after the Light shined in your hearts? You endured a great marathon season of suffering hardships, yet you stood your ground. And at times you were publicly and shamefully mis-treated, being persecuted for your faith; then at others times you stood side by side with those who preach the message of hope.

You sympathized with those in prison and when all your belongings were confiscated you accepted that violation with joy; convinced that you possess a treasure growing in heaven that could never be taken from you. So don’t lose your bold, courageous faith, for you are destined for a great reward!

You need the strength of endurance to reveal the poetry of God’s will and then you receive the promise in full. For soon and very soon,

“The One who is appearing will come without delay!”

And he also says,

“My righteous ones will live from my faith.

But if fear holds them back,

my soul is not content with them!”

But we are certainly not those who are held back by fear and perish; we are among those who have faith and experience true life!

The Book of Hebrews, Chapter 10 (The Passion Translation)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 16th chapter of First Chronicles that includes the words of an ancient song written by King David:

The Levites set the covenant chest of God down in the middle of the tent David had built for it, and they made sacrifices and burnt offerings before God. When David finished these rituals of burnt offerings and peace offerings he blessed the people under the Eternal’s authority. He gave a loaf of bread, a date roll, and a raisin cake to every man and woman in Israel. He appointed some of the Levites as servants of the covenant chest of the Eternal, as officers to commemorate, to give thanks, and to give praise to the Eternal One, God of Israel. Asaph was the head of the servants, next Zechariah, then Jeiel, Shemiramoth, Jehiel, Mattithiah, Eliab, Benaiah, and Obed-edom. Jeiel was over all instruments, including a ten-stringed harp and lyre, while Asaph played the cymbals. Benaiah and Jahaziel the priests played trumpets regularly before the covenant chest of God. That day, at the end of the parade, David gave this first song of thanks to Asaph and his brothers:

Give thanks to the Eternal, and call out to Him.

Teach the people His deeds.

Sing to Him! Sing praises to Him!

Talk about all His wonders.

Brag about His holy name;

let your heart rejoice in following the Eternal.

Always follow the Eternal,

His strength and His face.

Remember the wonders which He did,

and the judgments which He spoke.

Seed of Israel, you are His servants;

sons of Jacob, you are His chosen.

He is the Eternal One, your God.

His judgments fill the earth.

Always remember His covenant,

the word He commanded to 1,000 generations

Which is His covenant with Abraham

and His pledge to Isaac,

His statute with Jacob

and His covenant with Israel forever:

“I will give the land of Canaan to you,

a territory as your inheritance.”

When He promised this, you were a diminished few,

mere strangers in the land.

You went from nation to nation

and from one kingdom to another,

But He did not let those nations oppress you.

He reproved the kings:

“Do not strike My anointed people

or do evil to My prophets.”

Now, sing to the Eternal, all the earth!

Announce the good news of His salvation each and every day!

Enlighten the nations to His splendor;

describe His wondrous acts to all people!

For the Eternal is great indeed and praiseworthy,

feared and reverenced above all gods.

For all gods are worthless idols,

but the Eternal plotted the vast heavens.

Honor and majesty precede Him;

strength and beauty infuse His holy sanctuary.

Give all credit to the Eternal, families of the world!

Credit Him with honor and strength!

Credit Him with the glory worthy of His magnificent name;

gather your sacrifice, and present it before Him.

Bow down to the Eternal, adorned in holiness.

Fear Him, all the earth.

For the earth is firmly rooted; it cannot move.

Heavens, be glad; earth, rejoice.

Say to the nations, “The Eternal One reigns.”

The sea roars, as do its creatures.

The field rejoices, as do its crops.

Then will the forest and its trees cry out

before the Eternal, for He comes to judge the earth.

Give testimony about the Eternal because He is good;

His loyal love lasts forever.

Say, “Save us, God of our salvation.

Gather us and free us from the nations

To thank Your holy name,

to boast in Your praise.”

Blessed is the Eternal One, God of Israel,

from everlasting to everlasting.

People: So may it be! We will praise the Eternal.

So David left Asaph and his brothers at the covenant chest of the Eternal to serve it continually, performing the daily rituals. Obed-edom and the 68 brothers served, with Obed-edom (son of Jeduthun) and Hosah as the gatekeepers.

Zadok (the priest) and his fellow priests lived before the congregation tent of the Eternal in the high place at Gibeon to burn offerings continually to Him upon the altar in the morning and evening, as God had commanded Israel. With them were Heman, Jeduthun, and the rest of those who are chosen and recorded here who gave testimony about the Eternal, whose loyal love never ends, using clarions, cymbals, other instruments, and songs. The sons of Jeduthun were assigned to be gatekeepers at Gibeon. Once the congregation tent was prepared, all the people returned to their homes, and David returned to bless his own house.

The Book of 1st Chronicles, Chapter 16 (The Voice)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for friday, january 15 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible, along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs

A post by John Parsons about pride vs. humility:

The tragic story of Pharaoh reminds us how pride can blind the heart. As Abraham Heschel said, "In a controversy, the instant we feel anger, we have already ceased striving for truth and have begun striving for ourselves." The truth needs no defense. If we find ourselves getting defensive or hostile, we need to take a step back and ask ourselves what we really believe... If we seek to use truth as a weapon, or as a means to rationalize our self-will, then we are not "in the truth," even if our facts in the matter may be correct. We must be careful not to find ourselves using the truth for our own agenda. Yeshua's words haunt the heart: "Without me you can do nothing" (John 15:5).

Kierkegaard notes: "The proud person always wants to do the right thing, the great thing. But because he wants to do it in his own strength, he is fighting not with man, but with God." Indeed, how many people seek visions, dreams, and private prophecies while they forsake the Spirit as it broods over the hearts of those around him or her? How many seek to "know God" as a matter of the pride of heart?

The Koretzer Rebbe was asked for instruction how to avoid sin. He replied, "Were you able to avoid offences, I fear you would fall into a still greater sin - that of pride" (Hasidic). The antidote to pride is the “fall of the soul,” that is, those besetting sins and painful failures that (hopefully) bring us back to reality - namely, to the place of brokenness and our need for divine intervention... When we get "sick of our sickness" we enter into holy despair, and then the cry of the heart for lasting deliverance can be truly offered. [Hebrew for Christians]

1.14.21 • Facebook

Shalom chaverim... Though the meaning of God's Name (YHVH) was initially revealed to Moses as simply eheyeh (אֶהְיֶה), "I AM," or "I WILL BE" (Exod. 3:14), it is wonderful to realize that His Name was also revealed as eheyeh imakh (אהְיֶה עִמָּךְ), "I WILL BE WITH YOU" (Josh. 1:5,9; Isa. 41:10,13; John 10:28; Matt. 28:20, etc.). Just as the LORD is called Elohei ha-ruchot lekhol basar (אֱלהֵי הָרוּחת לְכָל־בָּשָׂר), "the God of the breath of all flesh" (Num. 16:22), so He is the Source of your breath, the One who exhales to you nishmat chayim (נִשְׁמַת חַיִּים), the "breath of life" that enables you to live (Job 12:10). Indeed the Name YHVH (יהוה) first appears in the Torah in regarding imparting the breath of life to Adam (Gen. 2:7). Note further that each of the letters of the Name YHVH represent vowel sounds (i.e., breath), suggesting again that God's Spirit is as close as your very next breath. Like the wind that cannot be seen, so is the spirit the essential part of your identity. Yeshua breathed on his followers and said, "Receive the Holy Spirit" (John 20:22). [Hebrew for Christians]

https://hebrew4christians.com/

1.14.21 • Facebook

Today’s message from the Institute for Creation Research

January 15, 2021

Whosoever Will

“And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.” (Revelation 22:17)

One could not imagine a more clearcut invitation to receive God’s free gift of eternal life than this final climactic invitation of the Bible. Anyone who is thirsting for the water of life may come and drink freely, for Jesus said, “If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink” (John 7:37). Whosoever will may come! “There is no respect of persons with God” (Romans 2:11, plus about seven other references), and the Scriptures abound with “whosoever” assurances.

“Whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16). “Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved” (Romans 10:13). “Whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die” (John 11:26). “Whosoever believeth in him shall receive remission of sins” (Acts 10:43). “Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth in him, and he in God” (1 John 4:15).

“Jesus Christ the righteous:...is the propitiation...for the sins of the whole world” (1 John 2:1-2). Therefore, “by the righteousness of one the free gift came upon all men unto justification of life” (Romans 5:18).

Such promises as these (and many more in the Word of God) make it very clear that the substitutionary death of Christ is sufficient to “[take] away the sin of the world” (John 1:29), that salvation and eternal life are offered as a free gift of God’s grace to anyone who will accept it, and that anyone who will may come! It is only the voluntary act of our own wills that is required, but there are many of whom Jesus must say: “Ye will not come to me, that ye might have life” (John 5:40). HMM

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judicandum · 7 years ago

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BIRDIE’S KAYLE

So I’ve gotten questions about my particular Kayle construction since I started this blog, so I’m going to address them here. I’m aware it’s a bit far from the standard, so...this is pretty much going to be the masterpost of why I write her the way I do, little elements and such. I know I imply them a lot in my threads often and bring back several motifs and link back to my drabbles, but it’s hard to follow unless you’re reading everything, so this should help! Going to be a messy dump. I just want to reiterate before I begin that as sloppy as she is she’s my creation, so please don’t steal my work. Had really nasty recent experience with this and extra upset about it.

Here we are, though! This is my best brief (lmao) summary of many of the relevant things that have shaped Kayle up to her entrance in Runeterra. Beyond that...is up to all of you.

Obviously this is an ever-expanding basis and there’s always more to add. I’ll do my best to keep this up to date and, uh. Concise. Ish.

(Tagging basically all the current writing partners in case you have interest in this, sorry for the mention if you don’t! @yi-dashi @traitorousangel @noxian-rose @shurima-demigod @compulsivevirtuoso @general-darius @definitely-not-altair @hasturs)

I - DEFINITION.

The first and perhaps most difficult question to answer was, what is Kayle, exactly? “An immortal warrior from another realm” doesn’t cut it. Immortal, then, is brought into question. If her entire race is immortal, then why would they fight? What purpose would war serve if everyone simply got right back up? Therefore, I surmised that in this context immortal meant immortal, unless you’re stupid; or rather, insusceptible to illness and aging far slowly past a point, and extra resistant to wounds, but just as killable with a sword through the ribs as anyone else.

Still, this begs the next question. It is implied Kayle is the general of all of her world. So, she is special. She must possess abilities the other angels do not. At the very least, she must be an incredible fighter.

I didn’t have that much to go off, so I started poking at all the little options. Morgana doesn’t have a crown of darkness. Sure, perhaps Kayle’s halo is normal, but why not make it special? In addition, Morgana’s magic takes an entirely different form. Yes, it’s darkness, but it’s also more amorphous than flame. If it was only corruption from the normal, I’d expect it to be dark flre or some such.

Rather, I decided that Kayle’s people must be more traditional mages. They study for their magic, and generally when expressed in a visible form is more amorphous energy of varying colors, more like Morgana’s. It turns dark with the corruption of the soul.

So instead, I turned Kayle’s fire into a metaphor, a literal outpouring of her soul. Her aura is fire, everything within her is fire, burning eternal and feeding off her undiluted fervor.

Her position implies there is something special about her. So I turned her into the embodiment of justice itself.

Such embodiments rise and fall in her world, serving as the supreme god during their reign. Each is killed by the last, marked by crowns of whatever elements suit them best. They are determined by what is needed most at the time. But Kayle’s world is dying, and she is the last, locked into her role for eternity, until everything comes to an end. It is a miserable role, but she would never leave it even if she had the choice.

She is proud and determined, and she truly believes in her cause. She does not like to speak of how she is separate, and she will rebuke anyone that calls her better. Justice is the most human of the powers, for to be able to see right and wrong one must also be able to see through the eyes of those they judge. She bears the weight of every sin, and she covers her sorrow with that heavy helm.

She can die, but only briefly...and only at her sister’s hand, by choice. She is unending, born of blood and cast of flame, forever victorious because she does not know the meaning of defeat, alleluia.

II - SIGNIFICANT PAST RELATIONSHIPS.

MORGANA

The primary cause of Kayle’s strife with Morgana lies in how they grew up. They were all of each other’s worlds up until Kayle joined the vanguard at twelve, and they remained close for a long time, but to Morgana it felt like a fixture of her world had been taken away completely. Considering the fact they were inseparable before, and their parents had died, perhaps this was true.

Kayle was never very good at words, and her small gestures (which she often hid or disguised anyway because of Morgana’s pride) often went unnoticed, though there were many. To Morgana, it felt like her sister had abandoned her for her work with not a care in the world. She clung desperately to the moments they got together for centuries, though. The sisters have always been each other’s greatest motivation.

Things went downhill when Kayle became general, and she simply wasn’t home nearly as much. She was too busy restoring order on the battlefield, and of course she never really thought about how it would affect Morgana. She just did her duty as she grew into her role. Morgana worried and worried sometimes for decades at a time without anything but hearsay of how Kayle was faring, because Kayle is quite the dunce and didn’t think reassurance was necessary (the dolt), and over time it made her bitter and resentful.

She hates Kayle for her absence more than anything. But Kayle would have given anything not to have been what she is and remained an ordinary sister. She just doesn’t know how to say it.

RAZIEL

Raziel was the previous embodiment in Kayle’s world; he stood as Wisdom. He found Kayle by chance though her aunt and uncle had tried to hide her, and took her in. She trained hard in the vanguard, and at night she would visit him in the library and speak with him about her day.

As she grew, their relationship grew deeper into something undefined. Mentor, lover, they never spoke of what they wanted each other to be, but they wove together like each orbited around the other. She was ingenious, he was philosophical, and they were first and foremost tied together in a way no one else could understand, because no one else was what they were. They played a single game of chess throughout much of her life that lasted until the end of his. She won. She did not know how to lose. She still does not.

He clung to her for several centuries, and she became his purpose to continue, but all things must come to an end, and there can only be one god. He finally succumbed to the darkness and regret in his heart from all the eons before they had met, and she was forced to kill him.

They had both known it was coming, but it is one of the deepest scars she bears. She thinks of him often and remembers his advice, but she does not speak his name.

LELIEL

Leliel was Kayle’s first love. She belonged to a different regiment of the heavenly host, but she was a lovely girl, though the sun scorched her skin. Just as unusual there as here, she was an albino, and she was unusually lighthearted for a soldier, preferring her magic and illusions over the battlefield.

Unfortunately, she was not a great warrior, and her desires and talents laid in making other smile. She paid the price in blood, and Kayle never got to tell her how she felt.

III - ORIGIN.

Kayle’s world is an amorphous place. It is aged and withered, but still beautiful. Much of it is gleaming sand under the heat of a dying sun, but there is plenty of water. The cities are beautiful and elaborate, white marble and gold and bronze. The seas have lightning crackling within their dark depths, and fire dances across the waves at times.

IV - OUTLOOK.

Kayle has an extremely love-hate relationship with her duty though she respects it as essential and a good cause. She hates it for all the things she has lost because of it: her sister, her loves, any chance at ever having a normal love or life.

But she loves it because it means she can help people. That, more than anything, is the most important thing to her. She pours her heart into salvation, hopes beyond hope that she can make lives better no matter what the cost to herself.

She does not understand the meaning of defeat. She goes on forever. Her persistence knows no bounds, and nor does her self-sacrifice. She cannot see anything wrong in giving herself on behalf of others. She wears all the scars she has allowed to be inflicted upon her body in memoriam of all those she could and could not save.

V - GOALS.

She is very tired, simply put. I think, if anything, her primary goal on entering this strange new world is simply to learn, and find new hope. She is crushed by Morgana’s betrayal, and likely seeks comfort in the kind-hearted.

She would like some friends that she could trust not to need to be cut down at the end of it, I think.

As adored and glorified by Birdie.

#transcend imperfection || ooc #crafted in divine light || worldbuilding #GOD HERES THE DUMP

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livingwithkami · 8 years ago

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Hinamatsuri 雛祭り: Doll’s Festival on Girls Day

Hinamatsuri is today, March 3rd! Or, depending on your timezone, has already passed. While some may be enjoying the view of their dolls, or other families may be placing them back in their storage boxes, let’s take a look about the origins, customs, and meaning of Hinamatsuri - particularly from a spiritual and historical perspective.

Basic History of Hinamatsuri

Hinamatsuri ( 雛祭り) means Doll’s Festival. It is a festival originating from the Heian period (794 AD to 1185 AD). Hina (雛) is translated as “Doll”, and Matsuri (祭り) is festival. However, these terms are different than the usual term for doll, Ningyo (人形), or the usual term for a festival/celebration, Iwai (祝い).

Why is this? Well, both Hina and Matsuri are special words. Hina is a specific name for the dolls seen in Hinamatsuri, and the term originated in the Heian era for these dolls. Matsuri is another specific term, usually denoting a festival or special celebration, but in particular at a shrine or temple with the community of people. With the connotation of Matsuri, it connects Hinamatsuri’s ties to other spiritual festivals (called as Matsuri) held at both shrines and temples.

It is not known exactly how Hinamatsuri developed.

It may have originated from the Heian nobles using dolls as display motifs for fun, or to show off the craftsmanship of their dolls. That is why sometimes Hinamatsuri may also be called Hina-asobi, (雛遊び）or “Doll’s Playing”.

Another theory is that it developed from a ritual called Hinanagashi ( 雛流し) or “Doll’s Floating”. At that time, straw dolls were made, and then set into the local river to float away. It was believed these dolls would be carrying all sorts of negative energy, bad luck, misfortune, disaster, and more with them away to be purified in the river.

Shinto concepts of Kegare (negative energy/impurity), and Misogi (Purification, in particular by natural water such as rivers or waterfalls) is the origin of this festival. In fact, many shrines today still host Hinanagashi, most notably, as an example, Shimogamo Shrine in Kyoto. However, since it had been causing some modern-day environmental problems, the dolls are collected from the river or sea they are set adrift in, and then ritually burned at a shrine or temple to completely remove all the impurities/bad luck/negative energy they have carried.

Another influence to Hinamatsuri would be the connection of the dolls and girls. Dolls, especially more elaborate/decorated ones, came to be seen as more feminine in nature, and more associated with girls. They were then given as wedding gifts for new brides.

Thus, when Hinamatsuri developed, this may be why it centers around praying for girls’ happiness and good health. And, that is also why if the dolls are taken down too late, it may be that the girl would have a late marriage.

It is most likely Hinamatsuri developed from all these customs of Hina-asobi, Hinanagashi, the dolls’ association with girls and marriage, along with other influences and ideas that developed into the Hinamatsuri we know today.

Hinamatsuri and the spiritual connection

With that being said, Hinamatsuri is primarily a festival to pray for girls well being, and to dispel bad luck or misfortune away from them. As well, with many of it’s roots in Hinanagashi, it cannot be said it developed primarily as a secular festival. Indeed, there is a more deeply spiritual theory that states this festival has connections all the way back to the oath, or pledge, of Amaterasu Omikami-sama (A solar kami (goddess) that rules the celestial heavens and realm) and Susanoo no Mikoto-sama (Her younger brother. A kami (god) who is the kami of, and has responsibility for the sea, storms, and in some traditions, the stars as well). In one myth of Shinto, Susanoo no Mikoto-sama, crying and in despair from the death of his mother, Izanami no Mikoto-sama, neglected his duties as a kami. His Father, Izanagi no Mikoto-sama, came to him and asked him why he was crying and upset. Susanoo no Mikoto-sama replied it was because he missed his Mother, and wanted to see her. Izanagi no Mikoto-sama was upset by this due to a horrible past incident with Izanami no Mikoto-sama, as well as angered by Susanoo no Mikoto-sama’s neglect of duties. In reaction to hearing his reply, he banished Susanno no Mikoto-sama to the land below, to Earth, in the area of Japan known today as the Izumo region. Once he had banished him, Izanagi no Mikoto-sama left, never to be seen again. Susanoo no Mikoto-sama, distraught and upset by these turn of events, decided to go see his eldest sister, and the one whom Izanagi no Mikoto-sama’s entrusted as his inheritor to rule over the heavenly celestial plain, Amaterasu Omikami-sama. Because of this, Amaterasu Omikami-sama was more loyal to and trusted her Father, Izanagi no Mikoto-sama. So when she saw Susanoo no Mikoto-sama coming, she felt it was an attack, or deception from him to take over her land and her crown. She confronted him in anger, dressed in warrior’s clothing and hairstyle. Susanoo no Mikoto-sama insisted he was sincere, but Amaterasu Omikami-sama denied it, and accused him of ulterior motives. After some negotiations, Amaterasu Omikami-sama came to an idea of an oath, or pledge. Susanoo no Mikoto-sama would take Amaterasu Omikami-sama’s magatama (Ancient Japanese style curved bead) necklace, and chew it and breathe out the pieces. As well, Amaterasu Omikami-sama would take Susanoo no Mikoto-sama’s sword, chew it, and breathe out the pieces. From the breathing out of the sword’s pieces by Amaterasu Omikami-sama, three goddesses (kami) were born, known as the Munekata sisters. From the breathing out of the magatama necklace’s pieces by Susanoo no Mikoto-sama, Five gods (kami) were born. Susanoo no Mikoto-sama exclaimed, “Because my sword borne three pure women, I am sincere of heart!” , and, Amaterasu Omikami-sama accepted this and allowed him into her realm. In some alternate myths, Susanoo no Mikoto-sama says he is pure of heart because he had birthed five sons from her necklace. It is not known really which myth is true, or which children belongs to which parent - but it is said, in essence, the two of them are parents to all eight children. However, Susanoo no Mikoto-sama is known as the Father to the Munekata sisters, (he took care of the daughters).

And, Amaterasu Omikami-sama is the Mother to the Five sons (She took care of the sons, and this is more proven by the connection to her grandson Ninigi no Mikoto-sama - who would later become the progenitor of the Imperial line - is the son of one of the five sons, Ame no Oshihomimi no Mikoto.)

Image Source (Click to see source) by いりす

What is the connection of this myth to Hinamatsuri? If one looks at the traditional doll placement in Hinamatsuri, the clue is there. The placement left to right varies from Kanto to Kansai regions, but the doll tiers are always the same.

There is a man and woman at the top tier, called the Imperial Palace tier. The dolls are dressed as the Emperor and Empress. In this theory, it is said these may represent Amaterasu Omikami-sama and Susanoo no Mikoto-sama respectively. The second tier is three female court ladies holding equipment for sake. Sake (or Omiki when offered to the kami) is a traditional offering in Shinto traditions for enjoyment of the kami, and especially on Matsuri (Festival) days. Since Hinamatsuri is a festival, it may also allude to this meaning. These three female court women would be representative of the Munekata sisters. The third tier is five male musicians. They all hold an instrument, except the singer, who holds a fan. The instruments are small drum (taiko), large drum (otsuzumi), hand drum (kotsuzumi), Flute (yue). These five male figures would be representative of the five sons: Ame no Hohi no Mikoto-sama, Ame no Oshihomimi no Mikoto-sama, Ama Hishikone no Mikoto-sama, Ikushi Hikone no Mikoto-sama, and Kuma no Kusubi no Mikoto-sama. Who plays which instrument is debated, but Ame no Oshihomimi no Mikoto-sama is usually identified as the singer. The fourth tier are the two ministers, known as the minister of the left and the minister of the right. These would represent the priests of the deities. In between them is offerings of mochi to the upper tiers. Underneath them, they are flanked by a mandarin orange tree and a cherry blossom tree. This is representative of the transition of seasons, from Winter (Mandarian Orange tree) to Spring (Cherry Blossom tree), around this time. Finally, the fifth tier are the last three dolls. They are known as the protectors, or helpers of the Emperor and Empress. It could be said this tier represents the people and the community, who uphold the virtue of the deities through prayer and visiting the shrine. Below the fifth tier is various tools and furniture.

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Modern-Day Hinamatsuri, Girl’s Day, and Doll display

With all this being said, not much spiritual significance or thought about the myths is mentioned of Hinamatsuri. It developed into a more overarching holiday and festival, specifically for girls, moreso than spiritual reasons. Despite these influences, Hinamatsuri is mostly nowadays seen as a secular holiday with a background of a spiritual history, symbols, and influence.

Hinamatsuri today is to specifically pray for all girls good health, happiness, longevity, beauty, and more. That is why, Hinamatsuri is also known simultaneously in modern times as Girl’s Day. As we know, the dolls themselves became associated with girls strongly because of their connection as bridal gifts and feminine, delicate looking. As mentioned earlier, the grand doll display takes influence from the Hina-asobi tradition of displaying dolls by Heian nobles, however, these dolls are displayed now for the girls. Hinanagashi as well is still sometimes held at shrines and temples on this day too, but the dolls sent in the river are specifically for girls happiness and removal of bad luck.

Special foods are eaten on this day, and various decorations, treats, and fun is shared. A shrine or temple visit may be part of the plan, or just relaxing at home. But overall, it is a positive, happy, and wonderful day for girls and their family and friends.

Happy Hinamatsuri!

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spirit-science-blog · 4 years ago

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For this extraordinary episode, I’ve tailed the script into three segments. The first is for everyone, whether you’ve seen the show or not, so no spoiler warnings just yet - you’re free to enjoy. Then there will be the first spoiler warning - in which I will discuss episode 1, which is a safety net for those who haven’t seen it, are curious about it, but don’t want to ruin the whole thing. Then there will be a second spoiler, in which I highly encourage ANYONE who hasn’t seen the show, to stop watching and enjoy the full series, and then come back because we’ll be going deep into the whole thing! Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann, translating mostly to Heaven Piercing Crimson Face - is a show about the transformation of the soul. It’s about brotherly bonds and finding true love, and recognizing when someone else is oppressing you and overcoming the evil forces at all odds. It’s a narrative on modern society and the spiritual movements that lead to a collective awakening of the human spirit, and rising to overcome our inner deadness and become full of life, love, and burning willpower! It’s about the activation of the human DNA and the intrinsic evolutionary spiral power inherent within each one of our hearts and how if we work together - there is nothing we can’t accomplish! It’s a story of redemption, grave emotional hardship, the craziest trials and tribulations, and above all else - it’s about learning to believe in yourself.

Honestly, words cannot describe the love that I have for this show. It planted some spiritual seeds within me when I was in high school, which activated several years later during my spiritual awakening at 19. The show has been so meaningful to me that even plant medicine will show specific scenes or character arcs in a ceremony from time to time, to teach me lessons, and you’ll also find references to it in Patch Tarot.

As a fair warning, not only is the show amazing, hilarious, and epic as epic can be - it’s also wildly sexy. There’s no shortage of fan-service here, and I genuinely believe this was done to get more young men to watch it and wake up to higher spiritual wisdom.

Gurren Lagann is an expression of the lessons of brotherhood, and along with FullMetal Alchemist, there aren’t too many shows like it that hit this mark dead center, straight and right. Gurren Lagann will make you laugh, it will make you cry, and with every single episode, except maybe chapter 4, you will find yourself loving this show more and more until it’s done, bringing out an ending more epic than epic can be - it’s bittersweet, it’s beautiful… honestly- this show is a force to be reckoned with. You can probably tell, I have an affinity for this adventure, and so I am thrilled to present you with this extraordinary episode - Gurren Lagann and the Birth of Odin.

With that, here is our first spoiler warning. If you haven’t seen the show but want to get a feel for it, keep going. Here’s the hidden spirituality of Episode 1.

Gurren Lagann begins with Simone the Digger and his Brother in Spirit - Kamina. The entire concept spirals around the bonds of brotherhood and the spiritual connection that we form in life with those we care about. At this point, humans are all living underground, isolated from other pockets of civilization. There is a very strict dogma in their village - there is no surface, and anyone who believes that there is a surface is a foolish fool, so they don’t dig upwards because of how ridiculous an idea is.

Right from the start, we have this metaphor for our society and the dogmatic ideologies in the world. In the story, the people all live in darkness, and they are convinced that there is no such thing as the expansive surface. The conversations of higher spiritual or heavenly realms, astral dimensions or other similar concepts are often ridiculed, despite a never-ending stream of testimonials from individuals who have personally experienced these different planes of conscious awareness.

Speaking to Simon and Kamina, they beautifully depict a man in his fullness, and a boy in his weakness. Kamina fulfills many roles for Simon, supporting him and reminding him that he is meant for something great. Simon, who is a digger - is told by Kamina that his drill is the drill that will pierce the heavens! It’s beautiful to see how Kamina’s encouragement gives Simon the confidence and motivation to believe in himself. He says, “Don’t believe in yourself, believe in me that believes in you!”

The moving lesson here is that so many of us today struggle with confidence and self-worth issues. There are many introverts, shy; we make ourselves lowly and weak and stay in the shadows of the world. Then others are outgoing, confident, and sometimes brash and arrogant, which Kamina is. This is very important because the world needs these kinds of people to pair up. If you are confident and healthy and see someone who is shying away on the inside from stepping into their inner power - you can be that strength for them, and that is such a special thing. In fact - to you who is watching this, if you can’t believe in yourself, believe in me that believes in you. Because I believe in you, and the world is ready for you to shine your light be the highest expression of who you indeed are!

What’s remarkable here is that Kamina mostly plants this seed within Simon. He sees the light in Simone that even Simon doesn’t know there, and by telling him, reminding him, encouraging him over and over, Simon grows as a person to overcome the obstacles he faces.

One of the things that are very motivating here that gives Kamina his strength - was his father and experience that he had when he was a child. His father sought to find the surface, and he was also called crazy, but one day... he did! Kamina was with him, he saw the surface with his own eyes, and while he didn’t stay with his father up there, he knew it was true. This is a powerful lesson in TRUTH. When we experience the truth, even if the world tells us we’re crazy, we know it deep down.

On a spiritual level, this is akin to having a mystical experience in life, perhaps synchronicity, an out of body experience, or some mystical experience that proves without a doubt for us that there is something more significant than the mundane world we are presented with. Even in the face of scrutiny and ridicule, you keep on believing, because you know in your heart that it’s real. These scenes depict an awareness striving for something more significant in the face of those who would mock and ridicule, which we all must do if we are to attain a higher light.

Throughout this first episode, Simon discovers this little drill necklace and a giant face underground, revealed to be a mini-mech that he can ride in. Kamina names it Lagann, which represents the vehicle of our soul, but I won't be able to explain that until later.

Everything changes when suddenly, a massive mech falls from the ceiling, illuminating the cavernous village. Along with it comes a compelling woman named Yoko who swings in firing a large rifle. Yoko is a character who, throughout the series, is revealed to have tremendous depth, and stands as a powerful archetype of the divine feminine. She’s not a girly girl as so many women are depicted to be, and despite her outfit, she isn’t just there for the looks. She is a strong woman entirely in her power who can fight off giant mechs single-handedly with nothing but her rifle. Throughout the series, she carries many very human moments, with a wide range of emotional depth.

Yoko teams up with Simon and Kamina and explains to them that this mech is called a Gunman and that she comes from a nearby village. They do battle against the great enemy, and from an unknown source of power within Simon, as he overcomes his fear, Lagann ignites with energy and they blast off into the sky, destroying the enemy gunman and liberating themselves from the cavern, and into the surface world - giving us a view that’s so beautiful, it makes for excellent desktop wallpaper.

Alright, if you’ve not seen the show yet - this is as much as I can give you. I hope this is enough to inspire you to watch it because it genuinely is an INCREDIBLE show. If you have any intention to view the full presentation, I’d recommend giving it a go first, because you don’t want to ruin the surprises that await throughout this series.

Now, we’re about to enter a spoiler void. Please DO NOT PASS THIS POINT UNLESS YOU’VE SEEN IT! OKAY?!

OKAY.

See you on the other side… maybe!

~ ~ ~

So, was it worth it to wait and watch it?

One thing I love about this show is that it wastes no time. In contrast, from the beginning of his journey, it took Goku 575 Episodes from landing on the planet earth to embodying cosmic ultra-instinct superconsciousness. Naruto took over 700 episodes to become Hokage and Luffy… jeez, it’s been over 900 events, and he STILL hasn’t found One Piece yet!

But Gurren Lagann? 27 Episodes take no time at all to go from living underground suppressed by the entire universe, to the ultimate colossal superconscious mega ultra cosmic Gurren Lagann! I mean seriously! They do not waste any time! This is important because not all of us have time to watch 900 episodes of Luffy not finding his treasure.

Built into the fundamental fabric of this show - The ability to believe in anything makes it possible. Kick logic to the curb and do the impossible! We can see this practice throughout human history - how many people told the wright brothers that it was impossible to build a flying machine? How many people said Michael Faraday that he was insane for believing in the electromagnetic field? Yet, these people in history felt in something more significant than the limits of what society said was true, just like the village chief in Jiha village. They created and discovered things that completely changed the world forever.

To that end, we also see the wisdom of the ancients coming through. The powerful mech that Simon finds in episode one is a remnant of an ancient technology known to humanity. Today, we say “hogwash! There was no advanced technology so long ago,” - and yet we have evidence of ancient civilizations with advanced technology in several different ways all over our planet, from Gobekli Tepe to the Baghdad battery. And this weaves in very well to Episode 5, as Team Gurren falls into the pit of Adai Village, and discover that this isolated community believes that the Gunmen are face-gods from the celestial lands.

There are so many lessons and allegories from this one episode alone, such as how the theoretical perspective of the village is used to keep their town from overpopulation due to the lack of food they have, and how they would necessarily kill people by sending them to the surface, except its under the guise that they are going to some supreme world. It’s curious then why they all wouldn’t just go there freely, with this belief, which is very similar to the process of Ascension from Cloud Atlas, where the slave women would be killed, all the while believing they are about to ascend. This episode stands as a lesson to the use of dogma to shroud the truth. Once conditioned to a particular way of being, especially after generations of these beliefs, some people are simply not ready to hear the truth. When Kamina tries to tell everyone the truth, the people of the village reject it.

The episode title, mirroring Kamina's line, is called “I don’t get it, not one bit” - and I think this reflects how many people feel when looking at other belief systems and perspectives of the world. It takes a gentle mind and compassionate wisdom to understand that the leader of Adai village knew the truth all along. He deceived people because he could see that the people were not at a level of consciousness to receive the fact, at least not without creating havoc in the village. Herein we find a valuable lesson for all of us - Team Gurren was forced to leave the town and move on, they were not in Adai to be saviors of anyone, even though it may have felt good to awaken everyone - we must learn for ourselves that we cannot save anyone. Still, we must each follow our path to its completion, and let go of others on their way. We cannot take anyone except for those who are already walking alongside us or choose to join us on our journey.

Continuing throughout the entirety of the series, starting with Episode 3 - is the principle of Combining! Brotherly, epic combining! Combining seems like a fun idea on the surface, but how does it practically relate to any of us? It’s quite simple - the truth is, we gain tremendous momentum when we can collaborate and work together to make things happen. When we put our heads, hearts, and bodies together, items become more accessible and more possible than ever! Take Spirit Science, for example - Team Spirit, the name of which was inspired by Team Gurren - is comprised of this ragtag team of people from around the world, and together we do things that would be impossible for one to do alone.

If you think “Wow, Spirit Science is great! Go, Patchman!” Just remember that behind Patchman is an entire team of people. Sure, we have a Simon, but we also have our own Yoko, Kittan, Dayaka, and everyone that makes it possible to produce all of the videos and content that we do! Everyone whose enrolled in Spirit Mysteries is contributing to the spiral energy that allows Spirit Science to level up and evolve, so if you’re in Spirit Mysteries - you are also a part of Team Spirit! This is the power of combining, bringing our energies together to make things happen, to make the impossible, possible!

Now, moving on - I think Episode 4 is a test to see how many people will react, vs. Respond. You might have noticed the animation is weird, and the story on this one doesn’t lend TONS to the show. This episode was animated differently because it had a different director. It was a bit of an experiment on the part of the producers. Some people see it and think, “oh, this show went to crap” and stop watching. Yet, for those who see it through, you get some heavy-hitting deep stuff in the immediate next episode, and the rest of the show is beautiful and moving all the same.

Continuing in these core themes of the show, we have fighting spirit - which is more than just a feeling, but a mysterious power that allows their machines to activate and even increase in power. We see this from Episode 1 when Simon suddenly getting fired up creates a surge in Lagann, and this is a continuous thing throughout the show. It even allows Gurren Lagann to repair itself in the middle of battle temporarily. Kamina’s attitude here, in the face of EVERYONE telling him he’s insane, brings about one of my favorite micro-scenes in television history.

*play scene* It repaired itself? FIGHTING SPIRIT!!!”*

He just yells at them with this told you so attitude, I mean come on, weren’t you listening to me all this time?!

What’s especially surprising here is that they weave this into the core of the show at the deepest level. Fighting spirit is a reflection of Spiral Power, the limitless untapped potential within our spiraling DNA. And this ALSO holds a convenient lesson for all of us. Here’s a short example - When I was a kid, I played soccer on a team. I remember several times when I was there, out on the field, being exhausted and weak, but time was running out, and we needed a goal. I’d get fired up somewhere within me, so I would get so motivated inside to perform that out of nowhere. All of this energy would surge through me, and it was as if I could temporarily repair my systems and provide my body with peak performance.

Sure, we can call it adrenaline on a physical level, of course - yet it was the burning will-power, this feeling within me that motivated me into that state in the first place. In many occasions, I would start running or moving faster than I usually would, and helped the team to turn around and get those last-minute goals! The adrenaline wouldn’t have kicked in if the motivation was not there.

Now, I know this is not exclusive to me, so the lesson here is that this burning fighting spirit lay dormant within you. It’s waiting for you to turn the key of your drill, activating the motivation to do the impossible, see the invisible, row row, fight the power!

This motivating drive is one of the show's driving forces, and we see a brilliant unity here between Kamina and Simon. In their combining, they form the head and the heart of everything they stand for and believe in, both literally and figuratively. However, we also see the counter energy to this; what happens when fear takes over? It makes sense that Simon, the one with the most fear, would be seated in the Head of Gurren Lagann, representing the Ego before and after self-actualization. Simon is forced to learn some painful lessons, even fatal when Simons's fear ends up distracting the team in an epic battle, and Team Gurren suffers a deadly blow to the heart. The death of Kamina.

Up until this point, Kamina carried this thing almost single-handedly. He was the one who inspired humans to take control of the Gunmen. He was the one who gave everyone this dream that they could be free and overcome the tyranny imposed on them. He inspired everyone to believe in themselves against all of the odds and no matter the opposition… and then, suddenly… he was gone.

Instantly, everyone has lost their faith. What’s more so, they discourage Simon from his greatness too. Kamina always said it was Simon who gets them out of a bind, and it was Simon who had the keys of importance within him, that it was HIS drill that would pierce the heavens… yet, when Kamina was gone, nobody believed this anymore. Nobody showed faith in Simon, and in fact, they treat him like he’s nothing, a loser, a wimp.

And we must understand that because of Kamina’s death - Simon becomes a mopey, angry, very emotional little guy, but yet it’s impressive to see how other people treat him as a result. Because he’s not acting like a leader, they cast him aside very quickly, leading to one of the most emotionally challenging three episodes in anime history, at least in my books. It’s such a sharp turn for the series, yet it’s so incredibly necessary because Gurren Lagann - while on its surface might seem like it’s about mech fights and explosions, reveals that it’s about so much more than that.

Because of this twist, we get to experience deep emotional heartbreak. We get to see Yoko having some extremely human moments and overcoming the loss of the man that she loved… Perhaps most of all, we discover that the show itself is not at all about Kamina, as much as he was the center up until this point. The show is about Simon - about the individual who didn’t, and couldn’t believe in himself due to his traumas in life, like losing his parents. The lesson here is that it’s about all of our souls, that light within us - rising into becoming genuinely incredible people, embodying the light of who we are.

Yet, as a door closes, a window opens, and we have the introduction of a new character named Nia, with a very different energy. She represents the innocence and purity of the world, nature, and human consciousness. She is literally like a flower, which you can see by the way her eyes are drawn. She is also the next step for Simon in his journey of learning to believe in himself. One of my favorite scenes of the show is that after his three episodes of Trauma, Simon saves the entire team, comes to Nia's rescue, and defeats one of the Spiral Kings generals. It’s so moving but not because it’s a heroic rescue, but because it’s the first time when Simon steps fully into manhood. It’s a coming of age when he reveals that he is not his bro, but he is himself, and his bro lives on through the emblem on his back, and inside his heart forever.

His bro set the stage for his ascension, and Simon will keep moving forward, keep drilling to the heavens, and overcome all obstacles in his way. Several places in this show make me well up, and this is one of them. He expresses the real quality of his soul, and even his entire team just watches with amazement at how incredible and beautiful soul shines are. From then on, they see it too, and they know what Kamina saw from the very beginning. They believe in Simon, and it fuels all of them to save the world from the Spiral King's tyranny.

And now let’s just jump straight there. First, it’s worth exploring the name itself. He is the spiral king, Lord Genome. A genome is a complete set of genes or genetic material present in a cell or organism, so Lord Genome is named as such because he is the overlord of spiral power of the planet, controlling and maintaining that people stay at low spiral energy, while also creating the Beastmen to rule over the world and keep people from standing up for themselves. Yet, he reveals that no beastmen will ever be able to stand up to a spiral being entirely in their power, which also carries a powerful lesson for us - that the spiral power, that burning energy within us, when truly awakened is infinite.

In the Spiral King fight, there is so much on the line, but it doesn’t seem like Simon himself is enough to defeat Lord Genome, who has the same tech as Simon, but a more muscular body. Yet, in the final moments of their epic duel, Simon defeats the Spiral King with his core drill, demonstrating that the power is not within the robots, but within the people, flowing through us all - and he explodes Lord Genome, leaving a massive hole. The spiral king plummets to his death, but not before giving a grave warning… That the moon shall one day become hells messenger and destroy this world…

It’s fantastic because we get all this way in the series and you think “hm, this would make for a great ending!” - but we haven’t even gotten started yet! Season 1 ends with the fall of Teppelin, the Spiral King's order, and a new world to emerge, a world where humans can live on the surface…

~ ~ ~

Seven years later… Wow! I must say, seeing all of these beautiful characters all grown up was fantastic to see where this show was going, and there’s no stopping the powerful reflections on human consciousness. After the 7-year jump, we know the world has taken an entirely different form… Reflecting on modern civilization, what happens as more considerable technological advancement is given to humans, and even shows how people behave today. We see this with people focused so much on themselves and their luxuries, taking for granted everything that brought about their liberation, and forgetting the past struggles from only seven years prior.

They have forgotten the courage of Team Dai Gurren. Even the old Jiha village chief, which was horrible to Simon and Kamina, now has all of this wealth and status, saying things like, “oh yeah, I raised those boys.” It’s such a stark contrast to how things were, and a strong reflection of the world, how humanity generally isn’t very heart-centered… they can be, but how quick we are to forget when there is the potential for luxury and wealth. Let this be a reminder for us to stay in the heart, as Simon does, no matter what circumstances befall us.

What’s worse, with no more battles to face, the warriors of Team Gurren are forced into becoming political leaders, which - interestingly, is exactly what is described by Avatar Airbender in the transition to Korra, another series that we will one day explore in Hidden Spirituality. The job is especially hard on Simon, who suddenly finds himself having to sign stacks of paperwork, a position that just really isn’t suited for him at all. Out of all of Team Gurren, the one with the most sense about her is Yoko, who leaves the team to go and become a teacher way off on basically Hawaii, which reflects her following her dreams and passions.

The one who is most suited for leading a civilization is also the worst for it all - Rossiu, who has a lot of ego blocks he has to overcome first. He becomes a great leader by the end, no question, but in his position, there is a lot that he too has forgotten about the days of the triumph over the spiral king and the power of the spiral in general. He doesn’t truly understand the nature of the spiral and is led by fear because of his upbringing in Adai village. Because of this, and his fear of the prophecy of the moon from Lord Genome, he actively sets his goal on controlling and maintaining the population of humanity to protect them, but doing so becomes a tyrant in his own right, inflicting rigid control over everyone, forcing people from their caves even if they didn’t want to leave… and then later, forces Simon to trial, and also sentences him to death.

We are shown a lesson here of the power of fear to destroy faith. The people are so quick to blame Simon for making the moon fall, they live in terror of their demise and don’t have faith. We also find the lesson that it’s far easier to point the finger, instead of taking responsibility for ourselves. Not only is everyone ungrateful for the lives that they now have thanks to Simon and Team Dai Gurren, but they are also instantly to reject him and throw him under the bus for the impending doom to come. Further, Rossiu is more interested in people's cheers and making the people “satisfied” rather than doing the right thing and solving the problem at its core, and a great piece of wisdom is revealed here. When you live in a fear-based mentality, freedom is not an option with that kind of thinking.

Rossiu says to Simon, “you know nothing, Jon Snow,” when he was the one who knew nothing but acted as if he did. Spiritually speaking, we can look at this whole thing and see the influence of fear on our lives. Rossiu actively lives from fear in all of his decisions until the Arc Gurren returns to the Earth when he realizes the true nature of Spiral Power. Fear causes him to become a rigid tyrant, fear causes him to close his heart to his friends, and while fear can be a powerful motivator in life, we must see the results that we create when we act from fear ultimately only leads us down a path of despair. Also, a side note - the Arc Gurren is likely a reference to the story of Noah’s ark, as the Arc Gurren is a great vessel that Rossiu wants to use to help humanity to survive the impending cataclysm that is coming towards them, with the Moon crashing into the earth.

Now, be mindful that there is a difference between fear and caution, for Rossiu could have acted very similarly, except being more open-hearted, keeping people informed about what he was doing, and how he felt. Instead, by keeping everyone in the dark, he created a division between the truth, his team, and the entire human population. This is another great lesson for us all, to live in reality, and to remain open, especially with those we love and trust. This is especially important for political and social leaders in the world today, by keeping information from the public, we limit others from having proper information to make informed decisions.

Speaking of uninformed decisions, we also see Gimmy playing out a familiar role that many young people experience growing up - arrogance. Gimmy is so proud of his mass-produced Grappurl machine, talking about how the old Gunmen were outdated - yet the Grappurls are ineffective against the Mugan because they were not designed to fight such an enemy. Gimmy shows arrogance and ignorance towards Simon, before being humbled by the revelation that he cannot take on the mugan, and needs Simons help.

Okay - so one significant twist in the show throughout this is that - when the millionth human is born, Nia is suddenly overtaken by anti-spiral consciousness, and serves as a messenger, speaking about the destruction of humanity to prevent the spiral nemesis. For the rest of the season, Nia is no longer herself but mentally enslaved by the anti-spirals, who we’ll explore shortly. This is a profound reflection for us, in that the divine feminine, and the christ Sophia, the pure-hearted feminine christ consciousness - that which Nia represents, has been lost or purged from the world. Nia disappearing movingly shows us this, which fuels Simon to the show's inevitable conclusion. 3

Now, as the show continues, more of the truth is revealed to us. Until episode 18, the show is shrouded in mystery. What is spiral power? How does this all work, why does it work? Up until now, it hasn’t been explained… and then, at last, we get some answers. We discover that Lord Genome, who we all thought was a villain, was protecting humanity to survive all along! Does that information suddenly change your perspective of him? In a way, he is benevolent, perhaps his methods were cruel, yes, but if not for him, humanity may very well have gone extinct entirely.

Speaking of changing our perspectives, perhaps one of the most remarkable and most heartwarming transformations is found with Viral. For all of season 1, Viral is one of the main enemies, continually showing up with the Spiral Kings generals to try and subdue the team. However, after the fall of Teppelin and the time skip occurs, he is trying to protect humans, giving them the freedom to live underground if they wish, where Rossiu is forcing people to the surface count them.

After Simon and Viral are imprisoned together, the once enemies become friends, ultimately leading Viral to pilot the body of Gurren Lagann, Kamina’s seat. When Viral first sits down in that chair, it is such a heartwarming moment, because it shows the transformation through illumination, wisdom, and love. There is no better pilot than Viral for this final mission, showing that Beastmen and Humans - or people of an opposing mentality and consciousness, can work together for the betterment of all. Sometimes, it just takes getting to know someone else better. Deep down, we all share a common understanding that brings us altogether if we can get to the heart. What’s more, Viral is sitting in the center of the body of Gurren Lagann, a demonstration of his care, even though he’s a beastman.

This transformation with Viral was prophesied throughout, though, in a way that most people would miss. The name of his Mech was Enkidu - named after the character from the Sumerian Epic of Gilgamesh, a character who is quite literally a beast-man, a wild man who roams in the wild with the lions and the bears and the other creatures of the wilderness… In the Epic of Gilgamesh, he transforms into a more normal human, after being introduced to them, and mating with a woman. So the fact that Virals name is Enkidu indicates that he too - over his story - slowly transforms from more of a beast-like individual to a more conscious and awakened being. x

Now, we discover that the war between the spiral races and the anti-spirals was the secret cause of everything from the very beginning, and the Anti-spirals represent those who would push down human evolution and progress, stopping the inherent spiral power within us because they believe it would lead to the destruction of the universe. We see this in the world today, the Anti-Spirals are reflected by the corporations, social systems, and politicians who would seek to slow down evolution and direct the focus into keeping things from changing, out of fear of what would happen if humanity was to attain too much power.

What’s more, the anti-spirals also represent that part of ourselves, which colonizes our desire to grow and evolve by keeping us little. It’s like the part of Simon who didn’t believe in himself, that was afraid, that would keep himself small- which means the Anti-Spiral energy is within us - as they describe at the end, they are trying to inflict absolute despair, to quench the human spirit from wanting to spiral, to grow at all.

The Anti-Spirals are also noticeably enjoyable because they are different kinds of enemies, not physical. Still, energy, or a particular consciousness imposing control, so they are animated entirely differently. Their weapons are almost wholly animated in 3D - demonstrating that they are more like energy bodies than real bodies. We also see this with the Anti-Spiral himself, who is animated 2D because the Anti-Spirals were once spiral-beings, but changed their DNA and became a different kind of being, so they are animated with scribbles instead of typically drawn like everyone else, and his colors are inverted. Usually, character outlines are drawn in thin black lines.

What’s more, we even see a fun visualization from the Mugan, which demonstrates what it might look like to move between dimensions, which is an entertaining way of visualizing multidimensionality. And I mean, how amazing is it to see the Ark Gurren Lagann punch the mugan so hard it rips a hole in the space-time continuum. I wonder if we opened up a dimensional portal, might it look similar in real life?

And of course, there is the revelation that the moon isn’t real, which was probably drawn upon from the conspiratorial source material that suggests that the moon isn’t real, or was placed there artificially by aliens, due to several curious synchronicities about the moon that stand out and indicate that the moon is not a naturally occurring phenomenon on the planet. Its size and position in alignment with the Earth are so precise, such as being a perfect match to the sun to create a complete solar eclipse, it seems like it didn’t just appear here so correctly in an ancient collision so long ago, but seems to be carefully calculated and precisely shaped and place to offer such unique alignments to our planet. Even the great Geologist and educator Randall Carlson today provides us with the wisdom - the Moon is one of the greatest mysteries for all of humanity today. We would do well to take that mystery seriously, and not pretend we have all the answers to the secrets of the moon.

Now, I don’t venture a guess, to tell the truth about the moon in this particular video. Still, it’s interesting that Gurren Lagann draws upon this, and offers this idea that the Moon is a giant Gunman itself, the Cathedral Terra, but which had been purposed by the Anti-Spirals to become Hells messenger, watching over the planet and destroying all of life if the human population grows too large. Further, they later show that the real moon also exists, but was hidden in-between dimensions. After the Cathedral Terra is free from the Anti-Spirals control, they can retrieve the actual satellite, which restores the gravitational balance to the planet. Fascinating material!!

At last, only after this, we are explained Spiral Power, which they do in a brilliant way, where Leeron explains all of the details about it. Nobody gets it, and so he simplifies it for everyone. Essentially, the Spiral Power is the infinite helix spiraling power of our DNA, but manifests as Fighting Spirit, and that Love powers the universe, and it is through the power of love that we can break through the limits that bind us, and do the impossible!

Leeron also offers another piece of wisdom when he is on the Ark Gurren… The Faster we spin - the faster we break free of the bonds of gravity. We can relate this not just to severity - but that “raising our vibration” breaks free of the relationships and limits of our old life and sets us on a course for a new kind of tomorrow!

What’s also uniquely special, that after Rossiu realizes his grave mistake and tries to kill himself, Simon offers him the same advice that Kamina gave him all of those years ago. You better grit those teeth! Followed by words of compassion and wisdom. We all make mistakes, sometimes we need to have a loud wake-up call, to snap out of our funk, but that doesn’t mean that we are inherently bad or wrong… We keep moving forward. This is especially amazing because when they return to Team Gurren, everyone forgives Rossiu as if nothing happened. They treat him as if he was one of their own, with a compassionate understanding of what he went through and the tough position he was in. Powerful lessons of forgiveness right here, indeed!

We learn that Simon and Nia have a love that extends beyond time and space, and through Simons love itself, they can track her to the farthest reaches of the universe, and even into other dimensions where she is hidden. It’s curious too; the Anti-Spirals are presiding in their own created aspect, between the 11th and 12th dimension, demonstrating their artificial imposition upon the universe and created reality itself. This, in a way, reflects the Demiurge's idea, a concept that we previously explored in our Hidden Spirituality episode of Final Fantasy 7!

Finally, seeing the way that the Anti-Spirals are animated and operate also reveals to us more wisdom we find within the Emerald Tablets of Thoth - The difference between the Curved Dimensions vs. Angled Dimensions, that the realm of angles is dangerous, speaking to the difference between organic vs. inorganic. The legendary Team Dai Gurren band together for one showdown, the final battle against the forces of oppression, and head out into space. When they finally meet the Anti Spirals, they appear as these bizarrely elongated ships with many faces. Hey, who the hell do you think you are, having so many faces?! These ships represent vessels of absolute despair, existing purely to inflict torment upon the spiral life forms. Their smaller ships are hands and feet with singular eyes, which speak to the manipulation of heartless beings, forcing others into submission. They do this by pushing the Cathedral Terra into a dense mass of energy, that actively drains their spiral power.

What we discover here is that they are now inside of a giant anti-spiral toroidal field. It is eerily reminiscent of the Martians synthetic Merkaba's idea from the Spirit Science Human History Movie - using natural forms and forces but for evil purposes. At first, their solution to this is to increase their spiral output, but eventually, Simon gets too tired to keep up this energy and needs a new plan. Another piece of hidden wisdom comes from their solution - to destroy the energy field at its core.

We can see this as a common problem in today's world, as often when we face a challenge, the default response from most people is to treat the symptom, instead of going to the core. Yet, going to the center, which sometimes is more complicated, has much higher rewards. It is sad, yet a very heroic end to Kittan, who surrenders his life for the more significant cause, manually flying in and destroying the anti-spiral vortex. Amazingly though, Kittan is not truly dead. It is only his body that dies, as later on, we see Kittan and the other comrades who died along the journey in Simons's vision when he becomes trapped in the labyrinth of his mind Anti-Spirals… So let’s jump there!

This is one of the final significant challenges of Team Dai Gurren, even once free of the anti-spiral field, and releasing tremendous spiral power, they are then trapped mentally by the Anti-Spirals, once again showing the method by which people are controlled in the world today. We are manipulated by our beliefs, our ideas about who and what we are, or what the future may hold, and it stops us in our path. The Anti-Spiral then walks freely around the deck of their ship, multidimensional space.

Yet, it’s not over - because the way we free ourselves from this entrapment is to find the truth within. First, we see Simon does this by connecting with the spirit of Kamina. He is presented with an alternate reality, one where they live under the capital, stealing from the beastmen and living off the riches. However, then we jump to seeing them being caught, and this version of Kamina falls into submission, begging for forgiveness. Yet, a second Kamina appears to Simon and asks Simon to choose which version he likes. One is the Kamina we all know and love, and the other is the one kneeling on the ground like a dog.

This scene presents each of us with a choice. Which reality will we choose? We are creators of our realities, but we are trapped within our minds, each of us. We have to be the ones to choose freedom, doing what’s hard to create massive change in our lives… we can do this, we can make each free ourselves of our entrapment, but it takes recognizing that we have a choice first. Simon delivers a mega punch to the false Kamina and reclaims power over his mind. In a very emotional scene, he says goodbye to Kamina for the last time, something he didn’t get to do the first time that Kamina passed.

Simon transforms and whisks himself away back to the Anti-Spiral fight and Nia. We are then shown the same scenes with the other members of team dai Gurren, what fantasy is playing out inside of everyone's minds, keeping them trapped there. Yoko’s story is especially moving. Kamina assists her in her mental release, and Viral is revealed to just want a loving family deep down in his heart, providing even more depth to the nature of his being.

And then… The entire team Dai Gurren warped to Nia just in time, and we entirely a few fantastic lines, it’s a special moment!

Even when trapped by the Karmas cycle, the dreams we left behind will open the door! Also, if the universe stands in our way, our seething blood will determine what will be! We’ll breakthrough time and space and defy all who would stop us, grab hold of our path!

The final battle is just legendary… It’s so epic that words cannot even describe it. You just have to see it. And - if you’re a true fan of the show, and want to go all the way, you can watch the movie version, which takes it to a whole other level, with each member of the team getting their galaxy-size gunman, and then they all merge into a universe-size Gurren Lagann too.

What’s impressive is that in the final fight, the Anti-Spirals decide to fight on equal terms now. They no longer resort to tactics like spiral absorbing fields or mind control, and this is another lesson for us. That our egos, the force within us that keeps us limited, inflicts fear and despair that energy can only fight you at your level. It will never be a power higher than that you can achieve, so they cannot be more reliable than the spiral beings when operating from max capacity.

When the fight is done, the anti spirals are destroyed, and the game is over. They can return home and receive cheers from the entire universe who witnessed the battle. Free of enslavement, the whole world may now explore what it means to exist unobstructed by the imposed limits of the anti-spirals.

Now… the ending of the complete series is something that sometimes gets people a little riled. Simon and Nia get married, and then suddenly, Nia disappears, robbing us of our happily ever after ending that seemed like was a shoe-in at this point. The idea is that the anti-spirals created nia’s consciousness. So she was no longer able to exist for long after they were destroyed, and to be honest - the movie version did a better job of revealing that ahead of time, as a method of the anti-spirals trying to inflict despair on Simon during their fight, because it does come as a bit of a shock for viewers at the end.

Yet, the lesson here is sound. It is revealed that the story is once more, not about what we think it was. It is Simon's journey, yes - but it wasn’t about Simon finding love; instead, it was about Simon becoming his sovereign being. It was about him finding completion as a human, as a soul, not leaning on, nor relying on others to help him lift himself. Upon the end of his story, he walks away, not sad or angry about Nia leaving, but accepting the completion of the journey. He is not trying to use spiral power to bring back people who have died because they would just get in the way of the new people coming into being.

After the credits, we also get our first and only post-credits scene, where we see Leeron and Rossiu as older men, having organized intergalactic councils of spiral life across the universe, a meeting of the greatest of civilizations to discuss the future of spiral lifeforms, and making sure that what the Anti-spirals said about spiral lifeforms destroying the universe - doesn’t come to pass. We also see Simon as a wise hermit, reflecting Odin from Norse Mythology. He is the wise wanderer, and even one of his eyes is illuminated with spiral wisdom, another reference to Odin - who only had one eye.

And so - we finally come to what may very well be the deepest parts of this entire show... What everything has been building up to from the very beginning. The birth of Cosmic Wisdom within Man. In Norse Mythology, Odin gave many sacrifices to attain divine wisdom and to understand the workings of the cosmos, and here we see this reflected within Simon. The idea here is that Simon is ultimately a man who within himself took on the responsibility of breaking through the limitations imposed upon not just him, but the entire universe. At the end of his quest, he becomes a keeper of sacred knowledge, a sage who wanders the world, taking care of others, planting the seeds of wisdom everywhere that he goes. Even though the child he helps at the end was not ready for this cosmic understanding of the spiral, he still imparts simple wisdom to the boy - the virtue and power of being gentle with one's energy, and that the lights in the sky are stars\. We are apart of something so much bigger than we know…

With that… I guess that’s it. I mean, there’s always more! One of the main theme songs of the show, Rap wa Kan no Tamashii da, teaches us amazing lessons throughout the show, every time it plays. Honestly, I’m not a huge fan of rap, but I can listen to this song on repeat for hours. It teaches us to Do the impossible! See the invisible! What you’re going to do is what you want to do, just break through the roof and see the truth! It also even has lines telling us to open our third eyes, and that the revolution ain’t never going to be televised. We cannot expect the mainstream media to cover the awakening of consciousness and the transformation of humanity. We have to be the ones to connect and make it happen ourselves.

Bringing this mighty episode to a close… I just have to say - this show has such a special place in my heart. It was a massive part of my awakening journey in life and is so much more than just a show. It’s an encoded message for us all about liberation, truth, and freedom. Maybe this is just me, but I’ve had ayahuasca journeys that used the archetypes in this show to teach me lessons about myself. I can’t watch it without crying, and even writing this script brought me to tears more than a few times with just how beautiful and well presented these ideas are.

Thank you, Gurren Lagann, for being such a moving teacher in my life, and the lives of all those who connect with it. And thank you - for watching through this massive episode. I hope you enjoyed it thoroughly, and may this episode of Hidden Spirituality aid in your deepening of wisdom in all aspects of your life.

If you enjoyed this, and want to connect more in-depth, I might suggest exploring the seven-day transformation. Using a number of the same wisdom teachings found within this show, we have created a seven-day course that helps you create lasting change in your life to live a life free of the imposition and limitations upon you. If you connected with this episode, or any aspect of Spirit Science, consider checking this out by using this link or in the author's comments below.

Thank you again, be blessed, and we’ll see you again for something new, very soon!!

#spirituality #science #ascension #mystery school #spirit science

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