#and then everyone in Lannisport being like

[swordmaid]

i am wide awake thinking about that post canon jb au again when I should be sleeping …!!! such is the nature of the jbrainrot…

[queers-gambit]

Give Every Man Thy Ear, But Few Thy Voice

title citation: Hamlet

prompt: similar to Penelope Featherington, you overhear your best mate's choice words about you after dancing at a ball.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!Tyrell!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

collection masterlist: The Truth Will Out - coming soon collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 18.3k+

note: SLUTTY ANGST CLUB, COME GET Y'ALL JUICE!

warnings: not edited. heapings of angst, hurt and no comfort, fuck your feelings. tweaked timeline, cursing, Bridgerton influenced, Aemond's both a bestie and an outstanding, fucking asshole - so is this vilified Aemond? eavesdropping trope, nicknamed reader, insecurity, insults, betrayl, abundance of ye ol' misogyny, self destructive tendencies; a single, non-graphic line that alludes suicide as an unserious threat to convey displeasure. there's men being men, men being gossipy little bitches, and the most random Lord of the Rings quote that kinda breaks the fourth wall?

Bridgerton - available to watch on Netflix 🍒 this fic was written before season three premiered

Jacaerys Velaryon version: coming soon

Tonight was a celebration that echoed across the entire Realm. Lords and Ladies alike with their service maids, House guards, any available singletons flocked to King's Landing for the courting season. They did this annually. Three solid months for eligible singles to make a match and attempt to secure their bond in matrimony.

Ladies wore layers of multicolored fabrics. Lords dressed in embellished tunics. Ladies tied on tight corsets to push their breasts to their necks. Lords shaved their facial hair, appearing "cleaned up". Ladies smelt of exotic perfume and Lords stood in shiny boots. All wore sparkling, gaudy jewelry.

While the Starks of Winterfell and the Umbers of Last Hearth traveled over a month to reach the capital, your family, the Tyrells from Highgarden, had a much more comfortable commute. Greyjoys and Mormonts sailed in from the Iron Islands and Bear Island, Tullys from Riverrun, Royces and Arryns from the Eyrie. Single, available, eligible Hightowers returned under Queen Alicent's sponsorship, Lannisters prowled in from Lannisport, and select few Martells arrived in gorgeous, gloriously golden carriages from Dorne.

Everyone who was anyone descended onto the Red Keep, eager to earn King Viserys' stamp of approval - being that he only granted one couple his presence at their ceremony. It was the highest of honors, a prize to be won, a chance to show off and show out; giving the two bonded families bragging rights until the next season. Plus there's a superstition that all weddings the King attended were prosperous, healthy, and long lasting marriages. There was a buzz in the air, a static of excitement and mystery; tension brewing when the members of court arrived and sized each other up for that first week. You thought they were silly for this energy, akin to strutting peacocks, treating their own like competition, treating bloodlines like currency.

You never realized how many purists there were.

While the other Houses had to travel, you were most lucky to already host residence in the Red Keep. Your uncle, Evin Tyrell, had once been in line to assume lordship over Highgarden, but after losing his son to the War of the Stepstones, Evin turned away from his inherited responsibilities; forcing it onto your father's shoulders. You had several siblings, both younger and older, and eventually got lost in your bustling, busy, arguably large family. Evin had no more children, wife long departed from this life, and was excited by the prospect of being a guardian; insisting you come with him to King's Landing, where he accepted a tutoring position for the King's children and grandchildren.

You were absolutely romanced by the idea of existing among the royal family, telling your father it was your one chance at a decent, higher education - an opportunity to study under the Targaryens being once in a lifetime. Truth be told, you're not entirely sure Lord Tyrell even processed your words, approving with a distracted grunt and a wave; gone by the next morning without even breaking your fast with your family. Evin hooked both your beloved horse and one of your father's young stallions to a wooden cart you shared, using the journey to King's Landing to prepare you for the life you were soon to live.

You had always been a little wild child, so, Evin felt it necessary to remind you of your manners; brushing up on your etiquette, quizzing you on members of the Royal Family, explaining what would be expected of you now that you were a guest to the royals.

For well over a decade, you were the single wildflower blooming through dragon fire, earning the moniker Rose of the Realm; living under Queen Alicent's good grace. She seemed to like you well enough, going as far as to invite you to family events after noticing the bond between you and her openly favorite son, Prince Aemond. Years ago, when you were fresh and new to the Capital City, your uncle brought you to attend Lady Laena Velaryon's funeral on Driftmark at the King's invitation. You already had a friendship with the young royals; keeping Helaena company, trying to sneak Aegon's chalices of wine out of his grip, and when the time came, rushed off over the sandy dunes with your best mate after he told you his plan to lay claim on Lady Laena's dragon, Vhagar.

After the King's heir, Princess Rhaenyra's (rumored) bastard son, Lucerys, slashed Aemond's eye from his socket, you became incredibly close. Impossible close. Like unbelievably close; being thick as thieves, joined at the hip, magnetically pulled towards one another before clicking into tight place. You were his pillar of support, his anchor to reality; and he was your salvation.

You realized you were in love with him when you turned ten-and-six. It was something strange, the two of you studying together in the library and when you looked up from your book to meet his eyes, you just understood. Something in your brain clicked, heart cemented in knowing, guts twisting in sudden realization, words caught in your throat and only letting out an inaudible gasp. Ever since that day, you were acutely aware of anything the Prince did; from the way he would caress the back of your head at each embrace, to his eye darting to look at your lips during conversations. From how he took almost every meal with you, to the way he insisted upon your invitation to family, public, and / or royal events. From the way he absorbed your secrets and opinions, to the way he shared his own - getting back what you put forth, forever mutual.

Being friends - best mates, even - with Aemond was easy. So easy, in fact, that nobody ever batted an eye when they saw the two of you unchaperoned. Your friendship was wholesome, endearing, supportive, enlightening, and pleasurably challenging in the sense that Aemond liked pushing your envelope; testing your boundaries. He set new standards and helped lift you to meet those goals, made you think harder, consider new points of view, expand your humanity.

What more could anyone ask for?

About half way through the current season, your uncle sent for you to join him for afternoon tea in the gardens. "Do you recognize these?" He asked when you arrived at the pavilion he sought shade under, admiring the bushes of florals surrounding the bannister.

"Of course," you smirked, hands behind your back as you stood at his shoulder, "they're honeysuckle."

"Native to only Highgarden, just like I called you in your youth," Evin added, plucking a bloom to admire. "Do you know why they're planted here?"

"I imagine through pollination?"

"A sound guess, but no," your uncle handed you the flower. "These were imported years ago, but have only bloomed now."

You nodded, sucking the bud to extract its honey-sweet taste, asking through puckered lips, "Imported by whom?"

"Do you remember your 17th nameday?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess, it was only a few years ago. You weren't here, you were on some diplomatic matter, right?"

"Inna way. After I concluded my affairs, I returned to Highgarden. You see, Prince Aemond confided in me how he wished to do something special for your birthday and knew you missed home. He asked me to bring these seeds back."

"Aemond asked you to plant honeysuckle?"

"Specifically here," Elvin grinned, "so they were within easy reach."

"So why have they only just now bloomed?" You tried to keep the jittery excitement out of your voice; baffled yet giddy from hearing about Aemond's kind gesture.

"There's an old legend," Evin gestured you to the patio table and chairs that was dressed for your social visit. "It's said, when the honeysuckle is gifted from lover to lover, they will only bloom when love surrounds them. I believe they have come to life this season as a portent to an impending match to be made."

"You spend too much time with Otto, Uncle, you're starting to sound like him - veiling your words and talking in riddles. Tell me why you called me here, Uncle, I know it's not for a botany lesson. Out with it, please, for the sake of my sanity."

Evin chuckled, watching you lean forward to pour two mugs of tea. "I was wondering, sweet niece, what the nature of your relationship is to the Prince Aemond?"

"Oh," you blinked, adding a sugar cube to your brew before stirring in a bit of milk, "well, I hate to disappoint, but I don't know what to tell you, Uncle. We're friends, nothing more or less."

"You seem real chummy."

"We're close, yes."

"Romantic?"

You scoffed, "Uncle, please - "

"Tell me the truth of it."

"Nothing inappropriate or unseemly nor nefarious has occurred between us, Uncle, I promise you. The Prince and I are just friends."

Evin sipped his tea, nodding slowly, "Well, humor me. If I asked who you would marry, who would you choose?"

"Well, as of right now, I'd choose myself since I don't know the men at court yet, only rumors and whispers."

"And if the offer of marriage presented itself, would you marry the Prince?"

"I would do my duty to our House, no matter the suitor."

Evin nodded slowly, "If I said I had struck a pact with the Queen and Hand, what would you say?"

"That despite what I've just said, if you marry me off to Aegon, I'll pitch myself from a window."

Your uncle's head tilted back as he belted short laughter. "I would never condemn you to such a fate, honey girl! Have more faith in me. I speak of Prince Aemond - it's why I asked about him."

"Uncle, speak plainly. Have you attempted to make such a match between the Prince and I?"

"Pending a few logistics, the Crown's interested in the match."

The words echoed in your mind on an obnoxious repeat for the weeks to come, surely living a dream. The longer you dwelled on the impending match, the giddier you felt; a secret smile brightening your features, small spring in your step, an air of positivity hanging around you that even the tiresome Rogue Prince wouldn't be able to taint. The One-Eyed Prince has long been your best mate for a decade, surely, this match would've been offered sooner or later; it was a smart choice, the definition of compatibility.

Some might've referred to this elation as "cloud nine", though you'd say it was cloud 10, 11, 12, 100! You were flying high, feeling good, and mistakenly allowing your hopes to heighten while imagining what marrying your best friend would be like.

You prepared for that evening's courting session with a dreamy, dazed look in your eyes. Even your ladies-maid picked up on your joyful spirit; questioning through her smile, "What's got you so distracted, my Lady? You've been staring off into nothing with that smile for an hour now."

"Huh?" You met her eyes through the vanity mirror, the woman standing behind you to intricately braid your hair. "Oh, no, no, nothing, I'm only lost in thought."

"Which thought?"

"It doesn't matter, it's just a thought. When it becomes a notion, I'll tell you, my friend."

She repeated with a grin, "'Yeah? When's that? Are you expecting good news?"

"Perhaps."

"Fine, fine, keep your secrets," she playfully tugged your hair. "Do you know which dress you'd like to wear tonight?"

"The lilac one," you answered, lips stretching your smile.

"You mean the dress that matches Prince Aemond's eye perfectly?"

You both giggled girlishly.

When you arrived at the Throne Room, there was already more than 75% of guests in attendance; getting a jump on their mingling. You greeted several familiar faces, locating your best mate standing at the side with his arms crossed and shoulder leaning on a pillar. "Well, you certainly look happy to be here," you teased when at his side, leaning on the other side of the intricate column.

"It was Mother's idea, Rosie, you know I do not dance," he frowned. "She's not given up the hunt to make me a match. She's adamant this is the year."

"Perhaps if you participate, you could organically meet your future wife."

"Hmm," his eye rolled, thin lips quirking in a smirk; gaze turned on you, watching you scan the room.

There was another 20 minutes of mingling before dinner was called, laid out on tables that stretched the entire length of the Throne Room. Naturally, like every single day, you and Aemond took side-by-side seats together at a risen table that hosted the royal family which provided an incredible view of those in attendance this eve. With your elbow, you nudged Aemond's bicep, making him lean over instantly so you could speak in his ear quietly. "Looks like Lady Fell and Lord Blackwood are gonna jump each other's bones," you mused, smirking, adding, "though I heard she's already hiding a growing belly and is trying to nab herself someone more mature in age with the intent to trick the Lord into thinking she's having his baby."

"No," he scoffed in amusement.

"Yes!"

"That's diabolical. Blackwood's the father? Truly?"

"I'm pretty sure."

"Good for him, good for Blackwood - didn't know he had it in him." He paused to take a pull from his goblet of wine, continuing, "Hm! Look, look," he grinned coyly, "do you see what I see?"

"It's packed in here, so... No, I don't see whatever you're seeing."

He snickered, "Lady Mormont looks smitten with Lord Greyjoy, looks like she wants to eat him."

"I thought he was romancing Lady Redwyne?"

Aemond hummed in amusement, "Perhaps he is considering options, courting more than one lady. Are we taking bets this season, again?"

You grinned, "Of course."

"Lay out the criteria, what're the parameters?"

After thinking a moment, you answered, "The pairing and timeline of impending weddings?"

"The stakes?"

You just shrugged, "Bragging rights?"

"Oh, c'mon, Rosie," he tisked.

"Fine, uh, how about... 10 Gold Dragons?"

"Both our families have enough money."

"Then you decide the rewards."

He lowered his voice, ensuring his family couldn't eavesdrop, "If you win, I'll go to Highgarden with you next time you visit. But if I win, you have to come flying with me on Vha - "

"No," you snapped instantly.

Aemond smirked, "Those are the terms, my Lady. Do you accept? Or will the Rose of the Realm shy away from challenge?"

Well, when you put it that way...

"Fine," you relented. "You're eager to lose so bad, let's do it. Who do you think will couple first?"

"Does it count if I get at least one correct? Such as, if I predict Lord Umber and Lady Lannister, but Umber marries Lady Tully, does it count that I still predicted Umber?"

You mulled his idea over, humming, stabbing a piece of roast goose from your plate to place in your mouth and chew thoughtfully. "Hmm, no, no, you gotta get the couple completely correct."

Aemond nodded, accepting your terms, "You really don't wish to go flying, do you?"

"What gave me away?"

Sharing a chuckle, Aemond finished, "All right, Rosie, bring it on."

When dinner concluded, once more, patrons were allowed to mix and mingle; dancing to the live band, drink spiced wine to their heart's desires. Like the common wallflowers you were, you posted at the side of the room with Aemond, content to watch the sea of vying adults trying to establish and rush courtship. It was the most comfortable you could be at these events, being anxious in judgmental crowds and seeking salvation from Aemond's domineering aura.

"Lady Tyrell," Jason Lannister purred as he approached you with his chest puffed out, "I was hoping to hold your ear tonight. Your father was telling me about your love to ride horses."

"Oh, my father said that?"

"That's who he said he was - "

"My father's in Highgarden, my Lord," you corrected, knowing for fact that Evin always described himself as your uncle.

"Ah, well, right," Jason cleared his throat in embarrassment. Did this pompous arsehole just lie about talking to your father to give the illusion he was an honorable man? That your father approved of the golden headed Lannister? "Perhaps you would honor me with a dance?"

"Perhaps not," Aemond cut in sharply, bringing the tension to focus.

"My Lord," you distracted, on behalf of Aemond's anger, "uh, thank you for asking, that's very kind of you. Though I'm afraid, I'm all, uh, danced out. I won't be on my feet much longer."

"Means fuck off, Lannister," Aemond growled, appearing positively murderous at the honey blonde's audacity.

Jason eyed Aemond, stiffly bidding, "I see. My Prince, my Lady, enjoy your evening."

You bid the older widower the same, Aemond chuckling the moment the lion was swallowed by the crowd. "As if you'd ever dance with a Lannister, let alone court him," he mused, looking down at you. "But he had the right idea, you need to dance at least once. Shouldn't waste this dress standing on the side with me."

"I'm quite comfortable here with you," you shrugged off, seeing your uncle at the royal banquet table exchanging hushed words with King Viserys and his Queen, Alicent.

"C'mon," he held his hand in offer, palm up.

"What? No, no, Aemond, I'm not dancing - I've two left feet!"

"You can break every toe on my feet and I'd still ask you. Just one dance. With me, Lady Tyrell."

"You don't dance!"

"Perhaps the mood has taken me. C'mon, petal."

Your head turned from left to right as if looking for someone spying on you. The moment your hand laid daintily in his, you melted right there on the spot, not having any coherent recollection about how you ended up in the middle of the overzealous contenders. You realized you'd follow this man anywhere.

Beating off your immense anticipation and overwhelming excitement to join The One-Eyed Prince for an intimate activity, you kept your composure amongst everyone else. But, my Gods, did you want to scream in delight the moment he placed one hand on your waist and the other clasping yours to raise in the air at your side. But in this position, you could feel the ridges of his stomach - making you briefly feel embarrassed, wondering how you must've looked to the members of court.

"You sure about this?" You whispered nervously, but you had a feeling that was due to the intense concentration he pinned you with.

"We'll be fine, Rosie, just breathe and follow my lead. I got you."

So launched your dance with Prince Aemond Trgaryen, second son of King Viserys. You couldn't divert your gaze from his porcelain, angled face to save you from overthinking your dancing skill - or lack there of. A few times, he'd smirk and whisper how good you were doing, mind flashing to an image of you and he, married, tumbling in bed sheets together while he praises you. Everything he did became sinful to you; every touch, every glance, every smile, every private studying session setting your skin on fire and heart to beat rapidly.

It was a longer song, string instruments creating a pleasant, ideal, slow-paced, soft environment. Yet you couldn't hear the music, too focused on Aemond's single piercing eye and quirked lips. It was as if the two of you existed outside of time and reality, forgetting the people packed in the stuffy room. Aemond told you softly, "See? You're not so bad at dancing - you just need the right partner."

You wanted to be partnered every single dance from now until your death with Aemond.

"I thought you couldn't dance?" You coyly questioned.

"I said I don't dance, not that I couldn't."

To your idle shock, Aemond gave you a few twirls that made your hair and dress fan around you in an angelic motion. Dare you say it, you even laughed with mirth when you found yourself enjoying the courting season more than ever before - all thanks to your best friend and hopefully, soon-to-be intended. You were acutely aware of his hot and heavy hands holding your flesh, knowing this feeling would burn into your skin to remind you of his closer-than-close proximity. To remind you of his gentleness, to remind you of this dance and the way he gave you his complete and undivided attention.

When the musicians concluded the song, you were grinning authentically while joining in the applause to show appreciation towards the artists.

"Gods," you panted, "that nearly winded me. Think I'm out of shape."

"And you said you had two left feet," he mocked with a scoff, head shaking, but the smirk on his lips told you he wasn't serious. "You're a natural, Rosie."

"You're not such a bad dancer yourself, my Prince," you complimented, the applause subsiding as a new song began. "Though you'll have to excuse me while I get a drink."

You parted way in search of two empty goblets and one of the servants carrying decanters of spiced wine. After being served, you rocked on your toes to try and gaze over the heads populating the room. You were unsuccessful, so, you backed up to the edge of the crowd and moved around the involuntary empty loop along the wall, behind the pillars. There was no reason finding the white haired prince with an eyepatch would be this difficult, yet, you got more than halfway around the room before finally locating him.

Once again, he was leaning on a column, but he wasn't alone. No, there was a gaggle of Lords around him, all exchanging chatter about the Ladies they had to choose from this season.

"Well, c'mon, what about you, Aemond?" Cregan Stark pondered. "Things with The Rose look like they're escalating - congrats. Are wedding bells on the horizon?"

Hearing your name, you quickly scurried behind the same pillar, just out of sight but able to still listen. Look, eavesdropping was highly frowned upon, you knew it was bad manners, but if you heard men gossiping about your name, you would've done the exact same!

Aemond scoffed in pure amusement, "Come off it, Stark."

"No, c'mon, mate, I saw you two," Cregan continued, "dancing together, pressed all close."

"You two make a handsome match, logistically speaking," Paxtan Florant labeled. "Could marry someone abundantly worse, I think you two are quite the pair."

"Handsome and logical as it may look, there's no possibility I'd court the Lady Tyrell, let alone marry her," Aemond declared with a chuckle, your heart stalling and brows wrinkling together. "The Tyrells only just obtained their name in court, they're still too low born for a prince to entertain. Peasants like that are uneducated, prominently not intelligent enough to be my counterpart; uncultured, unwise, unable to retain most information we study during lessons."

You blinked in shock. If anything, you were Aemond's ONLY intellectual counterpart!

"So, she's not as smart as you, mate, so what?" Cregan cocked his head. "You don't need smart, you need fertile and capable."

Though he was attempting to defend you, Cregan's words made your skin prickle. How could they think you weren't intellectually on their level? Was it because you were a woman? You read the same books, attended the same tutoring sessions, was questioned on the same material they were and hardly ever answering incorrectly! And yet now you're reduced to your reproduction system?

The Prince scoffed, "Think about it, if I married a Tyrell, their lowly standing would taint the Targaryen bloodline."

"So, it was all an act?" Paxtan snickered, "C'mon, mate, you two looked dazed, all enamored with each other. Can't convince us there's nothing there, not after that."

Aemond chuckled, "You want the truth?"

"Lay it on us."

"I shared a single dance with her because I pity her. Don't any of you? The way she all but repels suitors? Surely, you've noted her dresses as well? They're terribly revealing, unlike anything a proper lady would don. No self respecting woman nor future princess of mine would wear something like that. It's as if she's so desperate for attention that she has to flaunt her flesh just to get a man to look at her since her personality surely doesn't reel suitors to her."

The men laughed, your mouth dropping open in offense. You're not chasing men away - look what happened with Jason Lannister! It was Aemond who told him to fuck off! After years of friendship, was this truly what Aemond thought of you? How did it come to this - the man you loved, the man you considered your best mate, slandering your name to any able ear willing to listen? How could he speak such calamities about you? Was this entire friendship a folly, just a cover for his pity? Was he only your 'friend' to entertain his own selfish boredom?

Was everything just in your head?

"I don't know, I like how she dresses," Tyler Lannister mused, the teenaged son of Tyland Lannister, Jason's twin brother.

"None the less, I find desperation unattractive in a woman," Aemond rejected, tears gathering in your eyes to silently stream down your cheeks. "Besides, Lady Tyrell isn't my type, she talks far too much. Truly, there's never a moment of silence, I cannot even hear my own thoughts when she's prattling - and it's never anything of substance, just useless nonsense. It's as I said, it was a pity dance, I felt sorry that she has little to no suitors."

"Seriously, mate, have you considered the reason she has no suitors might be because of her proximity to you? They might stay away because they feel threatened by your friendship, thinking she's spoken for - and trust me, no man here would dare compete against a prince for a lady's affection," Cregan scoffed, mildly disgusted by Aemond's choice words.

"The courts know there's no affection shared between Lady Tyrell and I. We are simply friends - no more or less - and that's as far as our relationship will ever progress."

Cregan hummed, nodding his head sarcastically. Then his curiosity questioned, "Answer this: are you attracted to her?"

"Truthfully, I just don't think she's... Attractive enough to be my wife. She's a pretty lass, I'll admit, but if she's called the Rose of the Realm, I fear to learn the appearance of other ladies from Highgarden." A few lads chuckled. "Additionally, there will be public outings I must attend, and as my wife, the people will expect to see someone alluring - someone qualified and fit for the position as a princess of the Realm. Someone stunning and worthy of the title, able to fulfill royal responsibilities."

"Gods, why're you so against this match? You're being terribly superficial, judgmental, and defensive - she's your friend, after all. Wouldn't this be a love-match? Do you know how rare those are?" Luras Arryn snarled, sounding genuinely distraught and jealous.

"And if you're so against her, why do you constantly escort her to formal events?" Arnas Blackwood tacked on. "It creates the illusion that you're courting, my Prince, surely you're aware of that."

"As I stated, her blood isn't pure, but she's also criminally clingy. She's always lingering around and I feel awkward not inviting her to royal events - since she's right there, all alone, in front of me. I only invite her out of obligation. Again, I take pity on the girl, knowing when she leaves the Red Keep, she'll never experience this life again."

"Well, if not the Rose of the Realm, who do you have your sights on?" Luras Arryn asked stiffly.

Aemond's smirk was clear as day, answering swiftly, "The Lady Floris Baratheon is appealing enough."

The lads obnoxiously cheered in supportive approval, directing the conversation in a new direction about how bloody gorgeous Floris was - one of them even mentioning she deserved the nickname, Rose of the Realm.

You heard enough, more than enough, more than you ever wanted to know in an entire lifetime; rightfully insulted past belief and violently nauseated, feeling cold and mechanical. As swiftly as you could, you rushed to set the goblets down and speed walk towards the doors, shoving past both individuals and couples; not wanting to linger where you're clearly not wanted. Where you were apparently not welcome. After making your inconspicuous getaway, tears fell faster than earlier, mind replaying Aemond's words while sprinting to your chambers.

Describing you as clingy, desperate, unattractive, not his type. Dubbing you an improper lady who lacked self respect. Thinking you talk too much - that you prattle nonsense. Labeling you unworthy and unqualified to be his wife or assume the title princess with all the relating responsibilities. How he pities you and doesn't ever want to be more than your friend; thinking you're uneducated, uncultured, unwise. Declaring House Tyrell peasants who would taint his family's pure bloodline. How you 'have' to flaunt your flesh to attract suitors - since your personality did you no favors. Marking you a friend out of obligation...

Were you even friends? Did you even understand the definition of a friend? Have you been operating in a delusion this whole time?

In the words of King Théoden: how did it come to this?

Feeling utterly humiliated, you ran away from your peers; lungs heaving, huffing and puffing, panic ready to overflow. You burst through the wooden door, fully sobbing by now, engaging the iron lock and dropping to lean your weight against it.

Most, if not all, of your insecurities were aired out like soiled bedsheets for all eligible bachelors to know. Aemond might as well have hung a painted wooden sign around your neck: DESPERATE AND CLINGY LOSER - DO NOT ENGAGE.

Nothing about this situation felt normal, it all felt terribly impossible; absolutely heartbreaking and vile, like it was some kind of bad dream. But everyone woke up from dreams. You'd never wake up from this, you'd be forced to remember and relive it day after day. Tonight would haunt you, cast a dark shadow around you as if a thick, temperamental, torrential storm. Yet every storm eventually breaks, but tonight, there was no remedy, no shelter, no protection - you had to weather this alone.

It felt foreign, enduring anything by yourself. For years, Aemond was your partner, always at your side, level headed, insightful and wise; supportive, protective, calming, and something like a safety net when you faced trouble. Now, he's left you devastatingly alone; where after tonight, the very idea of being in the same room as him made you nauseated and anxious, fearful and small.

In that moment, your brain screamed that you were no longer welcome in the Red Keep - Uncle Evin's position be damned.

You sat on the stone cold floor for the better part of half an hour before your bottom turned painfully numb. After sluggishly hiking up your dress skirt, you removed your shoes and tossed them aside, standing to swollen feet to unhook your jewelry and place everything in their safe and proper place. Then, a particular necklace made of red rubies set in a thinly crafted Valyrian Steel chain caught your eye and mocked you. It was Aemond's gift on your ten-and-eighth nameday, laid in a plush velvet case for adequate preservation. This simple piece of jewelry was your absolute favorite in your collection, a treasure beyond words of appreciation that you greatly admired, now rusting in salty tears.

Being gifted this necklace had once convinced you Aemond might've felt the same for you as you do him. You remember even trying to rationalize it as a sign that the One-Eyed Prince was at a loss and didn't know how to confess his feelings. That he was shy, perhaps afraid to ruin your friendship if you didn't feel the same.

Angry tears of betrayal fell like acid over your cheeks, gritting your teeth, clenching your jaw as you snapped the velvet box closed and with a barbaric grunt, hurled it (with impressive strength) across the room. You felt so confused, so lost; deceived, lied to, and puppeted - and then the anger flared again when you realized what family you were angry with.

Why bother being upset, emotional, distressed? You had no right because your feelings truly didn't matter - not in the grand scheme of things. Nobody cared about your trivial feelings! You were just a Tyrell and by comparison, a peasant nobody who never deserved, earned, warranted, or was bestowed respect. In fact, to the Targaryens up on their mounted pedestals, none of you mattered - not a citizen in all Seven Kingdoms.

In fact, it was almost treated as a curse to not be a Targaryen. Some kind of punishment for daring to exist amongst the privileged royals as a lowborn - which, despite your family's newly established status in court, you were still characterized as. In their eyes, anyone NOT a Targaryen was lowborn; deemed unworthy to the white haired bloodline, being merely tolerated for the sake of politics, strategy, and reproduction. It was a sick game, and the Targaryens always won.

They do what they want, when they want, with no consideration towards other people's safety, emotions, wellbeing, stability, or comfort. The Targaryens were always stationed above everyone because, after all, they were closer to Gods than men; entire family spoiled, entitled, narcissistic, holier than thou, avoidant of any and all consequence.

They're legendary. Untouchable and worshipped.

And you? You're just a Tyrell, the tiny beetle trampled under the God's boot. Beetles were essential to any ecosystem, similar to the Tyrell's providing to the Realm productions of wheat, grain, barley, and corn. Similar to your family, beetles are also disposable - meaning the Targaryens might tolerate you, but they never need respect you. They could stomp you into the ground whenever they wanted because where one beetle died, three more takes place. Where one House might falter and fall, become doomed, eradicated, or subcomes to tragedy, others step up in an effort to establish their usefulness; prove their House's necessity to the Realm's ecosystem, attempt to diminish the threat of being razed to the ground by dragon fire.

Why be so upset with the Targaryens when they can do no wrong? What right did you have? And how could you ever think a Prince of the Realm would remotely be romantically interested in you?

You felt delusional and pathetic, crying over a man who was never in your league. Yet betrayal gutted you like a fish, a bright reminder that your friend would expose you like that; offer loud disrespect, speaking hatefully, to finally voice hidden malcontent. It felt impossible to stomach that your first friend, your favorite person, secretly hated you.

Because how could he not? You did not love anyone you could speak so lowly of.

Sobbing harder, you yanked pins out of your hair, working at break-neck speed to strip from your gown, then freezing when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the vanity mirror. The reflection looked distraught with exhausted red eyes; glowing in defeat, in a desperate need for a long, hot soak in the washtub. With shaking hands, you tossed a spare blanket over the mirror, despising the sight of yourself as Aemond's words continued to ring on a loop in your ears.

Clingy, desperate, unattractive, not his type. Improper, lacks self respect, talks too much, lacks suitors. Unworthy, unqualified, pitiful, never desiring to bloom past friendship - which is constructed around obligation. Uneducated, uncultured, unwise. Unfit, tainted, lowborn blood with a lowly personality. Revealing, tempting dresses.

Your mind, heart, and head screamed that no matter how hard you hoped, prayed, and tried, you'd never have a place among the Targaryens. Yelled that Aemond's right: you're ugly on the inside and out; damaged goods, undesirable - all because you were not born amongst fire and blood. Bellowed about your lack of quality, purpose, contribution. Reminded you that the one person you trusted unconditionally never truly wanted to be your friend; that he spoke horrendously on your name when absent, didn't value who you were - and never did.

He took every insecurity you confided in him and weaponized it; used it against you, made it into a joke with people you didn't trust nor want to know about you...

You sunk into the bath water, submerging as if to hide from your own thoughts.

The knock at your chamber door didn't surprise you. Servants and your uncle had been coming and going since you first refused to leave the morning after the ball. You figured Aemond would come around eventually, too curious for his own good and still under the impression he had to play "friend", thinking his deceit was unknown to you.

Aemond called your name through the door, asking, "You awake? Could I come in?"

You didn't answer.

He sighed, "C'mon, I know you're there. You haven't been seen in four days, you have to eat. You should get some air, feel the sunshine."

Silence.

Aemond frowned, "When you're ready, come find me, petal. I'm worried about you."

You wiped the tears off your cheeks, pulling your knees to your chest. For four days, you couldn't stomach the idea of running into the Prince, just wanting to avoid anyone or anything that would remind you of what Aemond said. You understood there were several decisions left to be settled, lost in an endless rampage of confusing emotions, maids bring you full trays of food and removing them with more than half still left.

Humiliation knotted in your chest, the harrowing thought of punishing yourself for being so stupid something you couldn't fight. All you registered was the feeling of betrayal, something that inked into every single thought you had, but with it came sinking realization that you were done. Simple as that.

On the sixth night, you sat with Uncle Evin, forking through your full plate and blurting, "Don't do it."

He paused to finish the bite in his mouth, "Do what, honey girl?"

"Don't - Don't make a match with Alicent and Otto. Don't make the arrangement with Prince Aemond."

Evin nodded slowly, washing his bite down with a mouthful of wine. "There a reason for your change of heart, love? The Queen thinks it's a handsome pairing. Just before, you seemed content with the match - dare I say, you seemed pleased?"

"Things change, Uncle," you spoke evenly, "and I can't shoulder this responsibility. In fact, I... I do not think I'm capable of making my own match. I will be stepping away from courting for the time being."

Your eyes seemed distant and dark, proving serious. So Elvin agreed easily, allowing you to withdrawal from the current season officially. He understood something was deeply amiss and didn't want to make worse whatever turmoil you teetered in. He didn't want to upset you and make things worse - you obviously had enough going on.

Aemond knocked again the next day, "Petal? You awake?" But you didn't answer. He sighed, "You've been missing lessons, love, and I just... I brought you some books. Thought maybe you'd like to catch up?" When there was no answer, he ended, "I'll just leave them here for you, petal... I'm not sure what's wrong, but I hope you're all right in there... I miss you."

You scoffed quietly, wiping your tears.

Ten days after withdrawing from the courting season, you left your chambers for the first time. But it wasn't like anything changed - it was still as if you were invisible, like a ghost. Losing your best mate turned you silent, refusing to attend lessons and since Aemond was your source for solace, had turned to seeking shelter at the Sept. It was the easiest way to avoid everyone - mostly Aemond.

He had shunned the religion the older he got, though respected his mother's devotion to it in trying times. He couldn't remember the last time he was in the Sept... So, it was perfect for you; a safe space.

You were no longer seen in the library - a once daily occurrence. If you ever wanted to read, you sent your ladies maid to collect content for you; but the drive to learn and read had abandoned you as swiftly as Aemond's loyalty. The stables grew cold in your absence, refusing to ride; something that troubled your uncle gravely. No longer did you take meals with family or Aemond, always seeking solitude to eat alone in your room or the physical kitchens; the Red Keep growing dark over your lack of sunshine - that had shone so brightly in the previous weeks. Even then, when you ate, it was in small quantities to only sustain yourself; mostly feeling nauseous when food was put on your stomach.

The first time Aemond saw you, you were returning from the Sept in a dress that reached close to your pulse point of your neck. He tried to get to you, but you slipped through the cracks of the Keep and disappeared when he dodged around a set of Kingsguard. Yet it was still a comfort to him to know you had left your room finally.

He knocked on your door about half an hour later, but like usual, you didn't answer.

"Rosie?" Aemond called, sighing. "I know you've not been feeling yourself, but, uh, tomorrow's Helaena's nameday. We're having dinner for her on the terrace..." He waisted, not hearing a single thing from within your chamber. "You're invited, as usual, petal. Your uncle said he'd attend, wanted you to know you're always welcome at our table."

But you didn't show up, you couldn't bear to see any of them.

You didn't eat that night, you were far too anxious and spiteful against yourself that you refused to allow yourself to indulge in celebrating your companion.

Despite withdrawing, you still heard rumor of all the matches being made and the courtships established through your ladies maid. A cord struck in your gut when you heard the couples you had bet upon were public and engaged, but so were Aemonds... Which meant you both won; and if things were different, would mean a flight on Vhagar to visit Highgarden. On nights of merriment, you would sit alone in the Godswood sometimes; attempting to connect to the Old Gods, but they never spoke back. They never connected with you.

Tonight, you were under the blood red leaves in earnest curiosity; quiet, just as you had been since the day you found out Aemond's betrayal and discouraged your uncle from making a match. It was there Elvin found you, frowning as he took a seat beside you in the grass.

"The Old Gods do not speak to me," Elvin offered softly.

"Nor I," you whispered.

"Yet I always feel at peace here," he nodded, sighing deeply. "I must ask you something, honey girl."

"Hmm?"

"Do you... Do you wish to depart? From King's Landing, I mean?" He questioned. "I ask because I intend to ride for Highgarden, your father's nameday nears. Your mother intends to throw him a grand celebration, since turning 50 seems such a milestone."

"You ride for home?"

"Tomorrow morning."

You paused, then answered, "I would like that... There's nothing left for me here."

Aemond's words had done irreparable damage, making you feel worthless and alone. Bitter. Damaged and unworthy of any such match; forever worrying if your best friend could harbor such ill will and hatred for you, surely, a husband would as well. Yet you were not new to being a woman; you knew the role you were to play, how marriage was strategic and calculated. Political. You could be a wife, you were so sure of it; but would you ever feel worthy of love? You feared you never would.

"We will stay a few weeks."

"I don't know if I would like to return, Uncle."

He offered a sad smile, "I figured as much. But should you want to, feel able to, you may return. You, my sweetling, are always welcome at my side."

You leaned into his shoulder, sighing softly. "I should thank you," you whispered in the wind.

"For what?"

"For taking care of me all these years," you lifted off him to meet his eyes. "You didn't have to, but you wanted to... And you've shown me a father's love when I thought it gone from my life. Thank you, Uncle."

He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, humming, "Don't tell the others but you were always my favorite. I consider it a great pleasure to raise such a gorgeous young lady - and I mean that, honey girl. Inside and out. Now," he pulled back and found his feet, offering his hand to you, "come, we've packing to complete."

"Of course."

However, while in the midst of packing, you felt a jolt in your heart. This had been your home of a decade or more; these people were who you grew and learned with. Who influenced your life in the best and worst of ways; they did not deserve to read your praise and thanks for friendship in a letter... So, you swung a cloak on and ventured out of your room.

Otto was first since he was the easiest to say goodbye to. He was gracious of your parting words of thanks; telling him how much you appreciated his wisdom and riddles.

Aegon was next. He insisted you share a last goblet of wine together - since you did not intend to delay your parting. It turned into a bit of a drinking game with his mates, but you didn't mind; far too used to the company of these debaucherous lechers. Dare you say, you enjoyed yourself.

Helaena was after, your words harder to say as your emotions strangled you. She was a sweet girl, an endearing companion, constant and dependable, albeit a bit strange and unorthodox. But you loved her all the same and cried tears of sadness when hugging her tightly as a last ditch effort to convey your gratitude for her authentic and generous friendship.

You only offered Ser Criston Cole a soft, "Farewell."

Alicent was perhaps hardest to say goodbye to. After Aemond, you were probably closest with the matriarch and found her wisdom and lessons a privilege to learn. She was kind to you; usually with a stern hand, but that was because she could recognize the little girl you once were who missed her mother tremendously. She introduced you to religion, another common bond. She encouraged you, supportive and curious; sharing affinity for the histories, often reading to one another for moments of peace.

Saying goodbye to Alicent hurt. You both shed tears of sorrow, the Queen wishing you the very best and insisting you return for her nameday and other celebratory events. She told you to write, told you to keep in touch; insisting if and when a match was made, to invite her since she would love to attend your wedding. Truly, Alicent considered you one of her own and to know you were departing in pain wounded her.

King Viserys was last. He was already in bed, half-asleep, a Maester at his side; but still, he accepted your audience. You thanked him for his hospitality and kindness - especially to your uncle. You thanked him for hosting you, for allowing you residence at the Keep and the for the years living under royal privilege. You told him you'd not forget his generosity.

You returned to your chambers after that and finished packing. You didn't sleep.

When morning broke, you stood in the courtyard with Elvin; packing the wagon you would use, your horse tacked and waiting as you both intended to ride. Alicent and Helaena came to see you off, hugging you tightly one last time before the Queen offered you a handheld velveteen case. "Just a little something to remember us by," she smiled lightly.

"Oh, as if I'm in a hurry to forget you?" You mused. "My Queen, this is too much, I cannot accept."

"You have not opened it."

"I do not need to, I know you," you smirked. "Your leadership these years is enough gift, my Queen."

"I'm not taking it back, you might as well accept it," she insisted. "Helaena and I picked it out together..."

You lifted the case lid, blinking in shock and gasping lightly. There laid a gorgeous chain necklace of Valyrian Steel, a dragon pendant dangling from front with gems of bright emerald - surely a representation of the Hightower side.

"Thank you, Your Grace, my Princess," you breathed, closing the case and caressing it to your chest. "It's more generous than I deserve but will treasure for the decades to come."

Queen Alicent nodded and pecked your forehead, leaving you alone with Helaena to speak with Elvin. The moment her mother was gone, the Princess asked, "Did you say goodbye to Aemond? I'm surprised he's not here."

"No," you spoke softly, "I cannot, Helaena, it is too painful to even look at him - let alone share words of parting. I have nothing left to say, no more words for him."

She frowned, "You know... I don't think he meant what he said. He says things he does not mean when anxious or feeling as if he's cornered."

Your head cocked, "What? H-How do you know what's been said?"

"I saw it - in one of my dreams."

You sighed, "I know you mean well - "

"I just do not wish for you to think that is his honest opinion about you."

"If it wasn't, he would not have spoken so loudly for so many to hear. Your brother has never sounded so sure, Helaena, I do not wish to relive it."

She sighed and nodded, "Will you write?"

"Every week," you promised, the two of you meeting foreheads and breathing as one. "Take care of yourself, Helaena."

"You, too, Rosie," she smiled, letting you depart. Alicent clipped your new necklace in place and gvae you a final hug, watching you mount your horse, stare at the pair for a moment longer, then follow your Uncle Elvin out of the courtyard.

As you rode down the streets, Aemond came sprinting out of the Keep in a blind panic after running into Aegon in the hall. Normally, Aemond wouldn't have bat an eye at his hungover brother, but he had said something about you drinking him under the table and demanded to know what Aegon meant. Upon hearing you had "left", Aemond sprinted to your bed chambers and didn't even knock - just burst in.

Never before had the Prince felt such anger as when he learned you had left King's Landing without saying goodbye. Without a single word to him - as if the past decade+ hadn't meant anything! He needed to know, Aemond needed to see for himself the truth because surely, someone was mistaken. His brother, surely still drunk and misremembering because there was no possible way you could've left! Not without Aemond! Not without a word! He refused to believe it.

He panted, tears gathering in his eye, finding your room bare and stripped. Aemond's breathing picked up in panic, hands shaking as he stepped into your room; looking, desperately, for any sign of life. But there was nothing... Nothing, save for a letter addressed to him left on your table with the ruby necklace he gifted you for your 18th nameday.

Gingerly, Aemond reached out and plucked up the necklace. He frowned, petting the jewels in disbelief; noting the way a few were missing, some loose - evidence of your anger. Slowly, Aemond sunk into a chair and with the necklace still in hand and his heart hammering in his chest in a rattle, opened your letter.

Aemond ― I know you'll be the one to find this, of that, there's no doubt. Sooner or later, you will learn of my departure and come looking, and for that, for being unable to say anything in person, I am sorry. Though this might come as a shock, it shouldn't as I would hate to give you the satisfaction of being right by burdening you with a desperate goodbye. I would hate for you to think I am clingy, even after our friendship died. So, I figure a letter is better than nothing. Goodbye, Aemond. Though all a lie and dedicated ruse, thank you for the years of friendship. You made time in the Red Keep pleasant enough. ― Rosie

Aemond sprinted to the courtyard, flinging open doors and shoving past patrons; desperate to find you, understanding you overheard him all those weeks ago and needing to apologize. He needed to explain himself, the confirmation now that Aemond was the cause of your pain and reclusion? His heart was about to burst. He skidded to a halt in the dirt, turning left and right and in a circle as he realized the gates were open and you were not in sight.

"Aemond?" Helaena questioned softly, Alicent taking to her side. "Brother?"

"Wh-Where is she?" He panted. "Rose - Rose - Rosie, where is she? Where is she!?"

"She's gone, Aemond," Alicent frowned, shaking her head slowly; startled by his desperate tone, "gone with her uncle back to Highgarden."

"When? When? When did they leave!?"

"She's gone, brother," Helaena snipped, sending him a look of disappointment; ears ringing from her dream, repeating what he had said to you.

Aemond swallowed harshly, asking his sister, "She heard me, didn't she? I know you know, Helaena, please, tell me. She heard me?"

The Princess nodded and walked away, the One Eyed Prince turning to his mother in desperation and for the first time in 10 years, perhaps more, he collapsed in her arms. Emotion clawed at his chest and into his throat, starting to tremble, sniffing heatedly; his mother's arms tight and comforting.

"I love her," he whispered.

"I know," Alicent answered, "but she should've been the one you told." A pause and her hand lifted to caress the back of his head, just like when he was a child. "It's too late now, Aemond. She's gone."

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

does this count towards the Clingy Baby collection? since Aemond technically calls her clingy amongst other things?

[atopvisenyashill]

I'm team women first and green leaning second but I legit CANNOT for the life of me go out in websites such as tiktok and be associated with people making fatphobic or stillbirth jokes about Rhaenyra because she's been pregnant six times and was probably stress-eating. I get it, she raised taxes, didn't give a shit that whole families of Lannisport women and girls were dragged away from their houses and sold to slavery and raped, and to top it all of she allegedly ordered Nettles to be assassinated after slandering her badly on accounts of her origin but like??? If you want to have beef with her then have beef with her because of these things, not because she had six kids and her body didn't remain the same as when she was 15. Aegon and Helaena were overweight too (baby Helaena liked sweets my little baby and Aegon genuinely had a bigger appetite and to top it all off he was abed for a whole year drinking milk of the poppy every 3-4 business seconds) but I rarely see people joking about their bodies, I mean yes I've seen people write alarming stuff regarding Aegon after he was basically crippled irremediably but my argument stands, if you wanna hate on characters hate them for what they actually had control with.

Sorry for the LONG ASS RANT I needed to get this out of my chest.

SAY THAT SHIT ANON SPEAK YOUR PIECE.

But YEAH, it is incredibly frustrating how like every single post that is critiquing rhaenyra will take a dumb ass cheap shot at her kids and the amount of focus on both rhaenyra gaining weight and emma being skinny, as if tom and phia aren't also skinny, and as if she doesn't do like, genuinely awful shit during the war, is so aggravating. why are we all so focused on everyone's bodies in this series, why does every other think piece need to be about how rhaenyra gained weight because she's evil now or she miscarried as punishment, duh.

people do do that a lot with helaena though - focusing on her weight, laughing at her suicide because she's "boring" which is JUST AS DERANGED. i do think those specific like "rhaenyra has the divine right doncha know" (that's not true because it doesn't exist folks and if you think she saw the white stag because of divinity OR that it showing up on aegon ii's birthday means anything, you have Missed The Fucking Point of that entire episode) people just say the weirdest shit about Aegon and Helaena's bodies and it's like. Stop. Enough. Get some fucking help. Most nobles were overweight in the time period this was based off of anyway because having easy access to fattening foods was a privilege, why are you so weird.

[aegoneggon]

Oh god what happened in ep 8 😭 I don’t have TikTok

i posted the TG recap but here is some of the TB stuff

BTW I have no idea what exact order these scenes are in

-baela tells Jace not to pout lol Jace is sulking and reading something. Baela is trying to cheer this sadbitch up and he says that the dragon seeds are an insult to Targaryens. jace says baela knows what he is (a bastard) and baela says she doesn’t care and that Jace is the /prince/ its a cute scene although Jace tells her its easy enough for baela to say and he has had to hear the whispers of his bastardy in the halls all his life. She tries to hype him up and tells him to stand by his mother but he still seems sad.

-Jace argues with ulf and ulf argues back and calls Jace a boy. Hugh defends Jace and says Jace is the prince not a boy. Very Robb and blackfish vibes I gotta say. Jace wants an apology from ulf and for some reason ulf hugs Jace and musses with his hair before Jace grabs his arm to make him stop. Jace is pissssssed. ulf points out Jaces dark hair and then makes some comment about Targaryen blood ugh and compares himself to Jace and says they are the same since they are both dragon riders. Hugh tries to support Jace and says ulf doesn’t know wtf he’s talking about. Jace is mad because Aemond has been burning things and killing people.He gets on Ulfs case and says if he sees him lazing about and being useless he will see to it that ulf is hanged.

-corlys and rhaenyra FINALLY SPEAK. Corlys says helaena might mount dreamfyre and rhae thinks it’s absurd and won’t happen. corlys points out that aemond is crazy and won’t stop at just burning shark point he will want to burn more shit. Then they talk about corlys ship. 

-Dinner time at dragon stone. Rhaenyra toasts to the new dragon riders and Jace shakes his head and baela seems annoyed at rhaenyra as well. Addam and Hugh seem to earnestly want to help rhaenyras cause. Rhaenyra wants to strike asap while they still have the advantage dragon wise. She wants to strike oldtown, lannisport and KL. Baela seems super worried and asks “you want us to kill innocents?” Jace says that it can’t be helped nd they must do it. The three dragonseeds + baela seem to have no words and feel awkward and unsure about this. Ulf says that he can solo Vhagar with Silverwing lol. A maester pulls rhaenyra aside and tells her that daemon has raised an army at harrenhal. 

Rhaenyra says she won’t allow it and tells Addam to come with her. Jace seems confused and jealous. 

-daemon and alys are talking and she makes him touch the weirwood tree. His vision is: bloodraven (young and sexy version), three eyed crow, night king approaching with a huge army, a broken dragon (sunfyre?), daemon drowning, red comet, dany hatching her 3 dragons (biblically accurate with her burned hair) rhaenyra on the iron throne, helaena appears and tells him he knows his part (??? Not sure what that mans) 

-cut to rhaenyra and Adam flying to harrenhal. Daemon and rhaenyra reunite. Rhae asks WHO daemon is really sworn to and daemon starts speaking to her in high Valyrian. He tells her that the world isn’t what he thought it was and that the /real/ war is starting winter is coming (omegalol) rhaenyra says he sounds like her father. Daemon says the only hope for the realm is a leader who can unite it and his brother chose her. Daemon bends the knee to her and says she is the TRUE queen. And then literally.. literally……everyone claps lol the harrenhal hall was full of the riverlords. 

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

A Mouse in a Lion’s Den Pt.4

Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister Warnings: childhood trauma, emotional/psychological abuse Words: 2786 Summary: Lannister Lions descend upon King’s Landing Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  

Book One of Heir of Ash and Fire

Even being a daughter of the man who supposedly shit gold you had never seen such a beautiful dress. Not even the one you had worn at the Lannisport tourney. There were red gems sewn against the white fabric that shined when the light hit it. You didn’t even want to lay a finger on it, afraid that your touch would dirty it.

Rhaegar chuckles behind you. “I’m guessing it is to your liking?”

Dumbly you nod. “It’s. . . It’s beautiful Rhaegar.”

Lords and ladies all over Westeros were coming in flocks for your wedding. King’s Landing was filled with a multitude of different banners. It made Aerys even more nervous to where he hadn’t come out of his personal chambers for days.

You noted your own family had yet to arrive. Would Tywin not even attend your wedding?

Jaime had tried to reassure you that even if you weren’t his favorite, Tywin would still show up. The Lannister and Targaryen families were merging after all. It would be incredibly disrespectful for Tywin not to show up even if his relationship with Aerys was strained. The Lord of Casterly Rock was not a man who would ever dare of sullying his family name. He had Ilyn Payne’s tongue ripped out for even spreading the rumor that he defecated gold.

You hoped Jaime was right not because you wanted to see your father and older sister or anyone else, all you wanted to see was Tyrion.

Rhaegar leaves, having business to attend to as well as to let you try on your wedding gown. You wished he would’ve stayed a little bit longer but you weren’t left alone for too long. Jaime had entered the room as your hand maids were tightening your bridal corset.

You were about to greet him but an aggressive pull on the lace has you gasping. Jaime chuckles, his armor clanking slightly as he moves inside, his pristine white cloak fluttering behind him. A few of the maids blush and hide their face at Jaime’s presence. You had grown used to it though.

“You’re usually busy at this time of day.” Wheezing you try and steady your breathing.

“One of the other guards is filling in for me. It’s not too hard to protect someone who won’t even leave his room.” Jaime rolls his eyes. He shooed away the maids and they scurry along to give you and your brother privacy. “It makes my heart weep to see my baby sister in a wedding dress.” His tone is heavily laced with sarcasm that makes you twirl around and shoot him a playful glare.

“You never seemed attached to your baby sister before.” The most you could tell of Jaime’s affections for you in your childhood was that he tolerated you more than Cersei. No matter what he would always be on Cersei’s side. Even when she was in the wrong, which happened to be all the time. Cersei was his favorite. She was everyone’s favorite. Except for Rhaegar’s. That much you were sure of.

Cupping your elbow, he brings you closer to his gleaming chest plate that you could see your reflection in. “Of course I was attached to my little sister.”

You realized you had never been as close to him as you were now. You caught the fine features of his face, the elegant chisel of his jawbone and his perfect nose. “Funny, you never showed it. You always let Cersei do whatever she wanted.”

“Do you really think she would listen to me? You forget she is older than me as well and doesn’t take too kindly to being told what to do.”

He had a very good point. Even so that didn’t change the fact that he hardly ever intervened or took your side.

Tilting your chin up you look away from him. It hardly mattered anymore. “I guess you’re right. Not even father could ever get Cersei to do what he wanted.”

“Only mother ever got Cersei to listen to her.” Jaime muses and nods.

Softly you smile. “Sometimes it seemed that mother could do anything. Beautiful and kind and smart too.”

“Just like you.”

It made you scoff. “No. Mostly like Cersei.”

Taking a step toward you Jaime sighs. “Cersei is a lot of things but she was never like mother. She’s her own person.”

Wandering away from Jaime your gaze falls on the tall mirror that reveals you in your magnificent wedding gown. You felt a little shameful for being so happy that Cersei would also never be Rhaegar’s bride. Something that terrible didn’t deserve Rhaegar.

She got so many other things, but she would never have Rhaegar.

*

He didn’t understand what was going on. Jaime had always seen (y/n) as his sweet baby sister. Someone who needed to be protected.

Now he couldn’t explain his feelings for her. Of course Jaime still saw (y/n) as someone who needed protection yet things seemed different now. Since her arrival she continued to surprise Jaime. Sometimes it would be the way her eyes fluttered to focus her attention on him or the subtle touch to his forearm as she would laugh brightly at something that had happened. Or the coy little blush that would dust her cheeks when she was near Rhaegar. That made Jaime’s insides burn. It was like when he saw another man looking at Cersei in an obviously lewd manner. Cersei loved the attention she got from other men which made things harder for Jaime; as if loving his sister wasn’t hard enough. (y/n) was completely oblivious though. There were a few knights and squires that Jaime had caught oogling her. Not his little sister had noticed. She only had eyes for Rhaegar.

Illustrious Rhaegar who was perhaps only marrying her out of pity.

It was all starting to get on Jaime’s nerves. And he couldn’t explain why except. . .

The very thought made Jaime take a deep breath and try to banish the very idea. It couldn’t be. What kind of sick joke would it be if he was attracted to his little sister? Jaime had never thought it weird that he was attracted to Cersei. They were two halves of the same whole. She was a part of him. But (y/n)? It was weird yet somehow made sense to Jaime. Cersei being the independent girl that she was didn’t like any suffocating affections, much like a cat, and would only go to Jaime when she felt like it. (y/n) had always been his though; had always needed him. The poor girl craved for his love and attention. She had constantly sought shelter behind Jaime.

It was too out there though, even for Jaime. Being in love with both of his sisters. . . He laughed bitterly. Cersei would definitely not enjoy that news. She was still upset over (y/n) marrying Rhaegar. She didn’t like losing out to her little sister. Cersei never did quite get over that (y/n) had been Joanna’s favorite; not that Joanna had ever said it out loud or shown favoritism but everyone knew. It was an unspoken truth that made Cersei resentful toward (y/n).

Jaime shuddered to think what would happen if Cersei were to find out about his new attraction. No one was to know about this. Every time he saw Rhaegar and (y/n) together though made Jaime’s lips press tightly together in an attempt to suppress his angry snarl. He hoped that this feeling for (y/n) would pass. It was just brought on because he hadn’t seen her in years. That’s what it had to be. Once he saw Cersei he would no longer feel attracted to (y/n).

That was another reason why he got so excited when he saw the flying red banners with golden lions embroidered in the middle.

His fingers twitched at the thought of weaving them into Cersei’s wealth of blonde hair.

Then the nagging fantasy of running them through (y/n)’s racked his imagination further.

Jaime had to keep still in his position as King Aerys was now willing to exit his room just to get a glimpse of a man who had once been his Hand. Not out of courtesy but cold contempt for the Lannister lord.

“The lions have descended upon King’s Landing.” Aerys mutters to himself. He was constantly talking to himself or ghosts. Jaime couldn’t decide which one creeped him out the most. Each was equally disturbing.

One of the many things Jaime had learned from being in the King’s Guard was to tune out Aerys’ demented ramblings. It took him a while and had felt difficult to do at times, especially when Aerys besmirched the Lannister name, but it made his job easier when he could turn a deaf ear.

“Rhaegar better not be wrong about that little Lannister bitch.”

Muscles spasmed and Jaime literally had to bite down on his tongue, clenching everything together to stop himself from attacking the king he was sworn to.

That was one thing he couldn’t ignore. He didn’t like it when anyone called Cersei anything distasteful, he absolutely could not stand it directed at his sweet, baby, sister.

Jaime knew that if (y/n) had heard, it would wound her deeply. Her gentle heart would take it seriously.

“They’re almost within the gates of the Keep, your Grace.”

Aerys groans. “Very well.”

*

It was no use. Rhaegar couldn’t help the stretching of his grin as he watched (y/n) run from window to window to catch a glimpse of her family’s banner. She was like a bird fluttering from branch to branch and tweeting a happy song. He enjoyed it most when (y/n) was so happy. A burst of sunlight in his otherwise cloudy world. She lit up a room with her smile and actually made him laugh! Rhaegar had forgotten the last time he had genuinely laughed before meeting (y/n). He hadn’t known how much a distraction she would be; a good distraction. There were dark things to come in his life that would surely lead to spilled blood. Yet (y/n) was able to keep his mind occupied and away from what he would have to do in the near future. In the Dragonstone archives she would keep him company or venture out to where the sand met the salty ocean and sit with him; listening to him play the harp. If Rhaegar insisted, (y/n) would even bring her own harp and try to play along with him to the best of her ability. He knew each string so well that he didn’t have to look down at his fingers when he played. Instead he would look at (y/n) as she kept her eyes trained on her tiny digits. Her eyebrows scrunched together as she concentrated on the placement of each finger. She had grown immensely since the Lannisport tourney. (y/n) had grown yet still remained the same somehow. She could still be shy but in certain situations she had a level head and was confident. Acting serious when need be then laughing once the moment was over and it was just the two of them.

He didn’t regret the decision to marry her yet he couldn’t get rid of the image of a certain northern lady that he had met in passing. A girl with a cold beauty to her looks and a sharp tongue. A lady that could very well hold her own against any man. Those gray eyes that drilled into anyone who dared look too long. She was like the very ice of her land. The chance glance had been for just a few moments. Nothing more, nothing less. Yet Rhaegar felt bad for feeling something for another woman. It was obvious that the young Lannister girl was infatuated with him. (y/n) trusted and adored him. How could he betray his mouse? He helped her out of darkness. He wouldn’t so easily thrust her back into it.

(y/n) struggles to peer past the glass. “I hope Tyrion is down there!” She says with wavering hope. He detected the worry and desolation as she must already be preparing herself for disappointment.

“I’m sure he is. Your father is aware of the position you’re in now. He wouldn’t dare do anything to displease the future queen.”

She snorts and although it’s meant to be derisive, Rhaegar finds it adorable. “He does things to displease Aerys all the time. And on purpose too.”

Sharp as a tack too. Rhaegar chuckles; her family didn’t give her enough credit. At Casterly Rock she had been an observer while everyone else dismissed her. She listened to the talk and scheming that went on without ever being noticed. (y/n) was aware of how power worked. She knew the rules to the game of thrones. That was the one way she was like Tywin. He had unknowingly taught her. Not that she would do anything with the information. She wasn’t ready to be a hands on player quite yet.

Soon though she would have to participate. Whether she was ready or not.

Until then Rhaegar would do his best to shield and protect her.

Gingerly he tugs at her arm and immediately she turns to face him. (e/c) eyes staring up at him with complete adoration. “Shall we go welcome your family, princess?”

He knew it would make her blush and sputter. “Me? Princess?”

Rhaegar hums. “Technically yes. You’re going to be my wife which will make you a princess by proxy.”

“A princess, huh?” (y/n) replies quietly. “Never thought I would be a princess. . .”

Chest warm, Rhaegar leans into her which was a little tricky to do considering that she was smaller than him. After all this time she’s still surprised by his bursts of affections.

*

The golden family. They looked powerful, just the three of them together. Each holding the same unwavering green eyes that challenged everyone and anyone to look upon their glory. Then there was you.

Your heart sank when there was no sign of your little brother and you felt your throat tighten. You knew Tywin wouldn’t dare to bring Tyrion because he felt ashamed of him. Shame and resentment for killing his wife, not that it was Tyrion’s fault.

Shooting your eyes down to the ground you try everything in your power to stop yourself from crying there on the spot. You would show them how much you had grown. You would fight through the pain.

You didn’t bother to hide your disappointment at seeing your father and sister only. Other factions of the Lannister family had arrived to see you wed but didn’t have the honor to see you before the pre-wedding breakfast. That honor was only for your immediate family. Which unfortunately was merely Tywin and Cersei.

She was stunning, just like Jaime. You half worried if Rhaegar would change his mind and decide to marry your sister instead.

“I’m happy you could make it.” You say although the words come out emotionless. The words were merely out of formality. Just like you knew the last place your father and sister wanted to be was at your wedding.

“We’re all happy you could make it.” Rhaegar says as well, matching your tone although he managed a detached smile.

One stormy day at Dragonstone the two of you had gone back and forth describing the terrible things your fathers had done.

It was painfully obvious to the other onlookers in the room the hostility that made the air almost unbearable to be in.

“Of course.” Tywin speaks up. “This is a proud day for the Lannister family.” You never did like the way his eyes would look at you, as if you were still somehow disappointing him.

“I see you are missing a son.” Rhaegar bravely brought up the fact of the missing Tyrion.

Cersei makes a face before looking at her father’s reaction. Tywin, as per usual, plays it off cooly. “As requested by your grace the prince I have brought him.” He didn’t seem to happy about that fact.

Rhaegar doesn’t let up. “We fail to see him.”

“He has been sent up to our room along with our luggage. I thought it best that he stay there to have a. . . private reunion with his sister.”

In other words Tywin didn’t want anyone to see him.

At least he had brought him. You look up hopefully to your fiance who smiles down at you and nudges you. “Go and see him. I’ll finish up here. Ser Connington, will you escort my lady to see her little brother?”

The redhead seemed hesitant to leave the prince’s sighed but reluctantly followed you as you fled from the Great Hall.

[keigosprince]

Tywin Lannister/Velaryon!Reader Preview

“My lady, the ship is here”

Y/N said nothing, only sighed. A fortnight ago, the Battle of Blackwater took place. So much had come from this petty war for that stupid iron chair. That chair had cost her and her younger brother their father…and Y/N her freedom. Being the eldest child was a wonderful position to hold…if you were a man. Y/N had been the first born. The first born, followed by many dead babes until her brother was born. She loved him with all her heart but at this moment, she wished she had been an only child a few years more. Then maybe she wouldn't have been sold off to Tywin Lannister. Sold is a strong word, more like captured and her brother and mother didn’t have the means to fight off Lannisters. They had won the war of five kings and now they were going to reap the benefits of it, her included.

“I’ll be right out Mia” she sighed again as she rose from her pillows and smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirts. She knew what her duty was to be when she was informed of her next destination. She had been sent away from Driftmark for protection by her father before he went off to battle, leaving her mother and brother back at their keep by the sea. She guessed it was a well calculated move on her father’s part…Tywin Lannister just happened to calculate the same plan and came up with a counter just in case. Her ship had been on its way to Essos until a random storm happened and when it ended she found herself in front of the Lannister navy on its way to Dragonstone, where she was currently being held. This keep didn’t have anyone occupying it since it was on an island and isolated from the rest of the realm of Westeros. The perfect place to keep a “defenseless” hostage until you are ready for them to come to your main location.

Rubbing her forehead to keep a migraine from coming on, Meleys picked up her skirts and started to make her way into the room she was being held in. "If anything, I hope I at least survive my time in the capital until I can make it to Casterly Rock”. That was one thing she didn’t mind about this situation. She grew up at Driftmark, surrounded by the sea and all things nautical and sea related. She learned how to sail when she was only seven and went on her first long voyage with her cousins at age three and ten. She knew how to wield a sword, drink a man 3 times her size under the table, and handle a ship on her own. She would at least have Lannisport to look over like she did Spice Town back at Driftmark.

Looking in the mirror to make sure her silver locs were properly tied up in their half updo bun, she let out one final sigh and made her way out to the docks.

—--------------------------

Tywin Lannister was not a man to be kept waiting. He understood that sailing took time, however the longer this hostage was out of his sight he would stay on edge. But then again Tywin Lannister was always on edge. Alert at all times, never letting a stag, wolf, or dragon keep him from slippingHe sat at his desk, filling out the last of the letters needed from the small council concerning the casualties and collateral of this latest war. A war that gained them everything and more. His family just had to keep it and the legacy would be secure. Tywin sighed at the thought of his family. His three current children and grandchildren couldn’t be trusted to carry on the family name.Tommen and Myrcella MAYBE but not the rest. 

‘Here’s to hoping this new bride of mine can fulfill her duty properly' he thought,

---------------------------

(Its a WIP, I may change things later. I just wanted to go ahead and give like a small preview and get the idea out. If you dont wanna insert your own name then I gave her the name Meleys Velaryon because ya kno...Red Queen and all. And just to remind everyone...this is a HOTD Velaryon so SHE BLACK)

[ludcake]

I think I'm in love with ur oc. do u have any more ocs to share with us?

yes. i do actually!!!

I have so many of them. in the brain

Quick list and you can follow it up with a specific ask about them!!

Alyseris Rogare, a scion of House Rogare long after they lost nearly everything in the Lyseni Spring - all she has is the family name. Daughter of the Old Blood of Volantis. Thinks Westeros fucking sucks compared to Essos - thinks that peasantry and feudalism is just slavery with more steps (and this is bad because it's not *just* slavery). comically missing the point of the cycles of tragedy because whenever the tragedy starts rolling they hop on a boat and skip before it gets too bad. Used to be the wife of a Ghiscari noble but jumped ship and left him with their kid. Actually a trained brava. Incredible gender swag

Lady Asha Codd, of Codd Hall. She has a twin named Yara Codd. They're both married to another set of twins who are their cousins. They might actually all be siblings instead of cousins. She thinks it's a shame that House Codd's words are "Though All Men Do Despise Us". Thinks people should like them better, so she invests her money and house funds into mimicking a Greenlander court. Comically misses the point as the incest, stealing, reaving, thralldom and cannibalism still happen, she's just now prim and proper about it and has a single silken gown she bought from Lannisport and likes staring at the pretty stained glass window that broke when they stole it from a motherhouse. Very much manners forward.

Lord Mors Dustin. Actual total freak. Lord of Barrowton circa Dunk & Egg, so right after the Spring Sickness - everyone in his family died and he's obsessed with it <3 he spends all the money of House Dustin into barrows and graves and turns farmlands into graveyards and knows the cause of death of every major family in their lands at least five generations back. Thinks that the ghosts talk to him sometimes, he actually just has really bad insomnia. Convinced that he'll die under very specific circumstances. Gets into a relationship with a wildling that wants to murder him real bad during the Raymun Redbeard thing. It's cute and very violent

Lenore Sand beloved..... She's an Orphan of the Greenblood. Daughter of a major courtier in the Sunspear court and an Orphan, was raised by her mom until she almost drowned in the greenblood and got sick from it, was dumped on dad's footstep after that. Really keeps to the Rhoynish customs, dreams of getting to do a pilgrimage to the Rhoyne. Also a Greenseer!! But in a weird Rhoynish vibe of being underwater.... merging with fish and turtles and eels and critters. keeps a pet white raven she stole from the citadel that she named after her annoying younger legitimate brother Edgar and makes the raven say bad things in his voice

Lady Eris Hightower. Originally an Oakheart, she married a second son of House Redwyne. It was originally a pretty classic courtly romance, and they got married, but he didn't actually want kids!! And that fucked with her deeply because. Like. That destroys every conceit of womanhood in Westeros, right? And it's not like they have protection, so it's just. Moon tea and moon tea and being on bed half the time until eventually he dies mysteriously :). She marries a widower but childless Lord Hightower and they actually have a pretty good relationship, until he goes off with Daeron the Daring into Dorne with her eldest son and that's a breaking point. She goes full stereotype of an evil lady - she starts sleeping with septas, septons, knights and courtiers, ruling the court while he's at war and occupying Dorne, when he returns she's a little bit pregnant and the baby comes out not really looking like her or the dad, so she dyes her hair to pretend her hair was the right color all along for the kid :) kills her husband again so that's two for two and rules as regent for her children for a good hot second. just everything wrong with feudalism in a single woman. she was driven crazy by it and she's the exact flavour of crazy that only these highly hierarchical and fucked systems can produce.

Florian Storm! This is my less fucked OC but I still love them. They're a Steward of the Night's Watch that thoroughly embezzles the NW's funds to get themselves nice silks and jewellery and trades with the wildlings on the side to get some better food and all that. Bastard from House Trant, was gonna be a maester because they were an awful fighter and their dad hated them for that and being feminine until they beat up an acolyte a bit too much and they died (this is because they were having gay sex on the side and it spiraled out). the fact that they were condemned to hang for murder made their dad very happy and proud of them so they got to pack to the Wall with a nice set of sable gloves and mink cloak. They're just a bit scummy <3

those are the big ones!! I also have a few I haven't developed quite as much like Steffon Pyke, local loser maester who is a meathead but had to struggle through citadel college because the alternative was indentured servitude (they later get involved in colonialism), Alyn Whitewolf, who is a freefolk songstress descended very distantly from Jon in an AU where he stays with the wildlings instead of going back to the NW (her mission is going south to steal a wife <3) and Ser Robert Buckwell, knight of the Kingsguard who is utterly uninterested in anything but straightbaiting girls with his perfect little shining golden armor and big vow to never shed blood (this is why he uses a mace to make sure all the bleeding is internal) while sleeping with another knight of the Kingsguard on the side. he's like if the kingsguard was a boyband for real

[synchodai]

HotD Live Reaction Episode 8

Season Finale be upon ye.

Tyland!!! Finally, my fave is given screentime.

In the books, the Free Cities using the Stepstones as a glorified toll booth already happened. They were the reason the crown was willing to let Daemon and Corlys go to war over them in the first place because highborn and merchants were complaining. In the show, it appears as if the greens are offering an alliance in exchange for the Stepstones — I'm not mad at the change, but it is something a nobleman who's heavily involved in trade from Lannisport to King's Landing would almost never agree to.

Sharako Lohar actually looks Lyseni!

"So what was the fucking point in all of this then?" You tell em, Eggy T.

Seven dragons? Syrax, Caraxes, Moondancer, Vermax, Silverwing, Vermithor — Rhaenyra has six. She doesn't have Sheepstealer (yet).

They're writing it so Aegon was jealous that Rhaenyra was called the Realm's Delight? He knows she was called that because she was pretty and went on these "suitor searches" throughout the realm, right? These bachelorette travels did a lot ingragiating her to the realm in the books — so her epithet is a very gendered one specifically referring to Rhaenyra as a maiden. Aegon might as well be jealous that he's not called "pretty princess."

Great, so Jeyne Arryn lost a Targaryen princess in the Vale mountains.

Deterrence????? Deter your enemies from doing what? They've already taken the throne? There's nothing go deter them from, you have to use violence to force them to release it. Rhaenyraaaaa...

"Helaena is no warrior." But so are you. Rhaenyraaaaaaa...

If anyone but Matt Smith were Daemon's actor, I doubt they would be able to sell this wishy-washy character so much. Does he or does he not want to be king? Who knows at the point, certainly not Alfred Broome.

"Not like this." So you would prevail at war...without having people go to battle? Sometimes I think some these characters don't even know what a civil war is....

Did Gwayne really see Criston sniffing a piece of cloth and go, "omg they fucked"?

Too much talking, not enough doing for a story about war.

I do not like how that they made a POW who endured immense torture Tyland into a character who gets punched and humiliated for laughs.

"Do you believe you are the first noble heir not sired by his father?" Heir to the throne, yes. Yes, he is. It's like a whole deal, Baela. Ugh, I hate this line.

Tyland did so well with the pirate shanty! 🥰

"You wish for us to kill innocents." I understand Hugh saying this, but BAELA??? HOW LONG HAS BAELA IN THIS WAR AGAIN?

Jace is the only character giving believable conflict and acting like an actual person informed by his history and society this episode, I swear. Everyone else is dumping exposition, a mouthpiece for the writers, or a one-note caricature. Jace is to the latter half of this show as Aegon was to the first half.

I HATE THE PROPHECY. WHY IS HELAENA COMMUNICATING THROUGH A WEIRDWOOD AAAAAAH

Helaena being really super specific now with these prophecies, sheez

Loving the Harrenhal set though! It's clear where the love and effort went to on this show.

Daemon Stark, what? So it took an actual slap from deus ex weirwood for Daemon to resolve his season-long conflict.

Live Simon Strong reaction.

YES ALYN, LET'S GOOOOOOO THIS IS WHY I WATCH THIS SHOW

ALICENT?! ON DRAGONSTONE? WITHOUT BEING CAPTURED AND HELD HOSTAGE AT THE GATES????

Oh, thank the Seven, Cregan isn't with the Winter Wolves. That would have been dire.

Is that Otto??? In what looks to be a jail???

The last few minutes is basically a curtain call and set-up for season 3. It's beautiful, but god, it all feels like this could have been a raven.

[lya-dustin]

All is Bliss

Chapter 39

Cw:mentions of death in childbirth and actual death(aftermath of the Battle of the Gullet)

Taglist: @mercedesdecorazon @darylandbethfanforever9 @aemondx @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @alexandria-millie @ewanmitchellcrumbs

Gif by @nastasyafilippovnas

They need the courtiers, the council and as many lords as they can.

Jena and Samantha brought the young women to her side with ease, but the older generations were very set in their ways.

Aemma had really given it her all with New Year’s Eve gifts, a special mass and ending the celebration with a tasteful feast.

Not that it moved the hags, most of them thought Aemma was too much like her mother to even give her a chance.

Free bread and ale were given to the smallfolk, servants and serfs were given a bonus and whatever complaint the Small Council had against the spending, the young queen would look at her husband or her lover and ask them if they remembered whose bright idea was to split the treasury.

For effect, Jena had recommended that she hold her hand over her belly now that she had begun to show.

And it had worked.

The Casterly Rock reserve had been recalled given the danger it posed to have the Red Craken getting it as he took Lannisport and used to replenish the stores for winter.

And, because Aegon wanted to throw a tourney in a week for Aemma’s eight and tenth nameday and he wanted to be generous to all and give the city something nice to say about him.

A wonderful thing Alicent will return to, a celebration thrown in someone else’s honor and Ser Criston being told that he must crown Aemma because his king commands it.

If Cole knows what’s best for him ---whatever arrangement he has with the Queen Mother hinged on his devotion to her--- he will lose the tilt and let anyone else win.

Jena’s money and emerald bracelet is on Aemond winning.

It’s the sort of bad luck these two lovers have around them like nasty perfume.

“Don’t wait up, darling. Kiss the children goodnight for me.” Jasper said as he hurried out the door and left her with an affectionate kiss on the cheek. “The prince has called for a meeting.”

“Will you tell me about it when you return, my love?” she asked, affixing his cloak on his shoulders before sending him on his way.

She had a hunch that Aemma would not be told of it, battles and things relating to the war are things that bar her from the small council on account of being the enemy’s figurehead.

“I will, make sure Prudence has her unicorn and Olyvar isn’t breaking into my solar again and we have a deal.”

Same deal as always, be the mother of my children, and I will be your coconspirator.

The Triarchy is closing in on the Gullet as they speak.

Sharako Lohar has been sent along with ninety warships to break the blockade and open the trade routes.

He had fought Daemon before, claimed to be behind a tear in Vhagar’s wings when he nearly shot Laena Velaryon out of the sky and promised to have control of the Gullet by the fifth day of the new year.

That was tomorrow.

Aemma’s nameday is the day after that, on the sixth.

Lohar hopes the king will have more than just the queen’s name day to celebrate.

Great fucking gift the Myrman has planned, with any luck he may only bring her brothers as hostages and not trophies.

“I think it would be beneficial for the queen’s health that she be told of this. The surprise may cause a miscarriage.” Orwyle is the only one to ring up the elephant in the room: Aemma. “Give her grace time to come to terms with their deaths instead of having it all done on her nameday of all days.”

It would have been better, but they’d never agree to it.

Aemond would have to be the one to tell her and he can’t face her when it would destroy her to know Lucerys and Jacaerys are dead when he doesn’t truly grieve their loss.

Jena would be the one to tell her, the look he shares with Ironrod says it all.

Oh, fuck.

Can’t even have a normal nameday in this family.

Everyone is acting strange around her, walking on eggshells and treating her as if she might shatter.

She is only turning eight and ten tomorrow. Sure, Daella Targaryen died at that age, but really, the young queen doesn’t know what’s going on with everyone.

Aemond had come to her bed after his meeting last night, not because he wanted to bed her, just to hold her.

For a man who claims not to have a romantic bone in his body, he was quite the romantic.

Jena has been trying to tell her something, but she cannot get a word in edgewise all day.

Now that she is taking a break from having her hair braided, Aemma finally gets to know what she has been trying to say before someone interrupted her.

“My husband and Aemond asked me to tell you before you learn of this tomorrow. The Triarchy has agreed to work with us, apparently Ser Otto sent ravens to them, and they have only just responded.” The blue-eyed woman looks at her with empathy and something that looks like pity.

Aemma hates pity.

“What?” Aemma asked, hoping she heard her wrong or that the fleet is still far far away from here.

“They are taking the Gullet as we speak.” Jena answered and Aemma feels herself grow faint.

But she doesn’t faint, no, she holds on to the back of her chair and prays the Kingdom of the Three Whores takes hostages instead of trophies.

If they were seeking Daemon, he was back at the Riverlands waiting for Aemond to come to him and fall into his trap.

He didn’t even want Aemond, he wanted Criston. Criston who engineered Rook’s Rest. Daemon may have been looked down on by Rhaenys and Corlys after Laena’s death, but Rhaenys still had been his only living cousin.

Fire and Blood extends to vengeance too.

“Where’s Baela, she needs to know as well.” The queen steels herself and has them summon her cousin and stepsister because she has to know that they may lose more family today.

There is smoke in the horizon by the time Baela comes, she spends time in the tiltyard whacking at strawmen with a wooden sword under the watchful eye of Willis Fell and Cousin Daeron.

“I heard already, they have set Spicetown on fire, they say, they say---” Baela cannot say the damn words and crushes her in a tight embrace and says the words they both had been dreading, “--- they, the Myrmen killed Jace.”

[daenystheedreamer]

You've talked a little bit about the Lannisters in the omaegorverse but I was curious if you think that them (and other similar Houses) would start adopting like. Some of that weird targ rot with their cadet houses. the lannetts and lantells and lannisters of lannisport all getting fucked up on that maegorpill...... start putting them up against each other start copying what the ruling dynasty is doing the targ rot spreads through culture and politics beyond just their weird inbreeding blood magic insanity!!! they contaminate everything they touch!!

absoLUTELY like partly im having there be slightly less incest (maritally) and marrying them out of the family more. so the Genes are being spread.... theyre infecting everyone!!! but also it IS unintentional and not actually genetics lol. just The Doom of bad parenting

like genetically once a targ marries into a house that house is forever tied to them. its super lame that rhaelle targaryen for instance just had no impact on house baratheon like wth 😭 currently the riverlands are swamped with targ descendants (harrenhal, tully, blackwood, bracken, frey are all targed out) + the lannisters like u mentioned. hightowers velaryons starks all targ'd.

but again its not a genetic im not doing like eugenics but the opposite 😭 i made the hightowers have a succession crisis where the non-targ uncle usurps/forcibly marries a targ hightower. because i♡patriarchy. and no one can even REALLY say anything cos like thats what maegor did!!! teehee i love evil.

tullys also went a little evil. family duty honour but what about the conception of family where you want the 'best' for them. and the 'best' is wealth and power. and you love your family thats why you want the best for them. but they dont know that thats the worst!! so they marry their kid into the royal family. they marry their daughter into harrenhal. whoopsies!!!

so yeah the targ crazy is infecting everyone but really what is happening is it was already there. the targs just flipped the switch and brought into in the spotlight naked and honest<3

[swordmaid]

tell me about your post war au!!!!

ok so basically it’s post the long night or whatever the equivalent is in ice and fire. dany probably ended it but all the political background stuff is kinda irrelevant. this is about jb being stupid for each other! anyway.

jb were together at the start of the war but gets separated because brienne chose to stay to fight in the north claiming that her quest is half done (since yes, the stark girls were back home but winterfell isn’t safe yet and she promised that she’ll take them back home safe she read the fine print) while jaime needs to go back to the west to defend the people there bc he got military prowess and his men follow him. jaime wanted her to go with him but brienne refused, but she was kind of like you don’t need to worry about me I’ll be fine here (: but then jaime gets annoyed bc a) he doesn’t want to be parted from her b) he doesn’t want her to keep sacrificing herself to be a service to someone but she’s not getting that and he’s like fine then go die for the starks if u want to so badly idc!! 🙄🙄 then he left frustrated. just imagine their argument has more substance than that lmfaooo

so jb left in a bad note. brienne fights in the north, convinces herself that she’s fine with it and he doesn’t get it but she realises that she misses him and she feels kind of lonely even though she’s surrounded by people she knows. brienne enjoyed those days where they saw eye to eye and he understood her without needing to say what she wanted. she missed that kind of connection but now that he’s gone and there’s a war she wonders if she’ll ever get to feel that again.

but the war ends, her quest is finished, brienne travels down the south to return oathkeeper.

hyle and pod tags along because they’re her +1 at this point and hyle claims he wants to go find a nice southern lord to employ himself to bc he’s tired of the cold. when they arrive at lannisport, everyone is celebrating even though the streets are still ravaged from the war. people are saying that theres going to be a tourney in a weeks time, and the lord lannister will announce his engagement then. brienne’s like 🧍‍♀️, never considered the fact that jaime could get married but she should’ve known bc everyone is making alliances left and right and she had forgotten that despite everything he was still a lannister bc he’s always been jaime to her. now she’s nervous and she doesn’t want to see him. but she’s here, with her purpose and her sword that she doesn’t really want to let go of but she should bc it wasn’t hers (just borrowed) so she goes.

jb reunion!!!! jaime is looking tired and grey and there’s a new scar across his lips but when they see each other they’re like oh!!! and they’ve spent so long in the darkness so to see him under the sun looking radiant and golden despite the greys on his temples she’s like 🧍‍♀️!! brienne has forgotten how beautiful he was. jaime is all polite to her and he smiles so kindly, and he has a really nice wrinkle on his cheek that brienne keeps noticing and he calls her lady brienne instead of wench which gets her more nervous because she’s not used to handling a jaime that’s like this.

brienne says she’s come to return the sword and he goes quiet. oh? she doesn’t need it anymore because the quest is finished. it was his, given by his lord father, so it’s only right for him to have it back. jaime goes quiet, frowns. brienne gets more nervous and goes like it served her really well but but she has no reason to hold onto it anymore. ☺️ jaime’s like … no reason? brienne: ya i mean im done jaime: and u only came here to give this back? wow ok 😐😐 brienne: ??? jaime: I’ll take it then!! 🙄🙄 if u want me to so badly!! 🙄🙄 then be off with u clearly u have better places to be since this was just an errand for u!! 🙄🙄 like im not worth ur time or whatever. brienne: ???? Bruh

but basically jaime gets annoyed at her for visiting him but acting as if it was an errand and NOT to see him. like they were friends maybe and you’d think she was more happier to see that he survived the war but then when she’s there she immediately wanted to get rid of the sword he gave her like HUH. as if HE didn’t spend the majority of the war cursing and praying for her to be fine. as if he wasn’t cursing his own foolishness for leaving her behind only to realise his feelings for her when she’s gone, regretting the time they have lost. jaime stewing on those feelings the whole time and leading up to when she opened the door to his solar, only to feel like a fool when she gave him so little regard.

and then brienne gets annoyed at him for getting annoyed at HER, and she’s salty and tired from all that travelling and from jaime acting all gentle at first then sniping at her next and she’s like fine ok BYE I guess. and she feels like a fool expecting to be welcomed with open arms!! and she wants to go and be out of this place but hyle and pod don’t want to leave bc they’re tired too and everyone is celebrating and they want to have fun!! and brienne is like fine whatever do what u want! she’ll sulk all by herself. (ALSO. Jaime learns that brienne is still travelling with hyle so he’s more like 😐😐😐🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️)

brienne gets told by some servants that rooms are prepared for them by the lord lannister and surprise there’s also outfits for her too befitting her noble status and they fit her taste. simple and practical, def not jaime’s aesthetic. jb spends the time avoiding each other but brienne gets little gifts from the servants like her fave meals being sent to her or her armor polished or like that particular fruit she was craving but if she asks if they’re from jaime they’re like. Um. no. 😳. there’s also more bits in the middle basically jaime is lowkey courting her and showering her with presents but NOT admitting it and brienne is confused by the pile of gifts stacking at her door. soz I haven’t dreamt about this part yet so it’s a bit empty lmfao. in jaime pov after his little tantrum he realises he’s being stupid like why is he sniping at her when she’s alive and safe!! like wtf bro. so now he doesn’t want to lose his chance. he’s had enough of pining, he wants her he’s going to get her!! and if she doesn’t feel the same that’s fine but what’s important is that he still acted on his feelings. so now he’s trying to court her but she’s not getting it and he’s getting embarrassed lowkey humiliated that he’s failing like he doesn’t remember wooing someone was THIS hard but he still tries anyway

she spends time catching up with familiar faces and her and pia have a lil girls night out!!! pia tells her what happened in their side of the war and most importantly, confirms that there is an engagement by the end of the week. now brienne REALLY wants to leave. it hurt her to watch renly get married to margy, she doesn’t know if she could stomach jaime get married to someone else. and brienne wants to leave but she can’t stomach leaving bc she missed/misses him and if she has to suffer through his snipes and sarcasm she will she’s used to it and that’s better than not having him at all but she also can’t stomach of him being with someone else. brienne feels like she’s having the worst tummy ache known to man by how nervous she’s feeling throughout this au someone save my girl

in the end jaime catches her leaving at the final day of the tourney. there’s sunshowers btw to set the ~ mood ~. jaime is holding oathkeeper bc brienne left it at his room before leaving, and when he caught up with her she’s so very sad and despairing. brienne admits that she has to go bc she doesn’t want to see him betrothed to someone else and he’s like well!!! if you want something you just ask brienne! you have to tell me what you want!! and brienne is like 😭 I don’t want to leave you but I also don’t want to see someone else with you. IN MY HEAD this was more dramatic btw like just imagine that!! and they’re upset and frustrated and wet from the rain and shes kind of crying bc I loooove concepts where jb has the declaration of love but they’re SO upset by it like the thought of letting their feelings be acknowledged gives them the hives. anyway jaime is like don’t send me away then. Don’t return what I gave you and leave me. If you want me to stay, you must stay too. I walked away from you once. Don’t do the same mistake that I’ve done bc it rlly fucking hurts 😔😔😔 and then more stuff THEN kiss scene. But the important plot point IS —actually the reason why this au exists—is that brienne takes oathkeeper from jaime and uses it to propose to him!!! giving him oathkeeper bc in the weddings the cloaks are used as a symbol of protection but oathkeeper has protected her in the war so it’s only right that she gives it to protect him. but that’s it tbh the whole au is basically for that proposal idea in the end I love the idea that it’s going to be her asking, not him, she deserves to take that plunge and he’ll cheer her on 🤭🥳

also, the tourney proposal was never for him but for tyrion. i just imagine jaime was in the rock to sort out some things but after the tourney, he’ll give the rock to tyrion then head out to look for brienne and ask her to marry him but surprise she went to him first 🤭

[waitingforwinterwinds]

A Clash of Kings - 32 SANSA III (pages 440-448)

Joffrey has Sansa stripped and beaten in front of the court until Tyrion steps in.

-

"Tell me what I've done." "Not you. Your kingly brother."

ah. damn. That's not good. This is going to be an entire proxy thing, and Joffrey is not going to be in any kind of mood to be emotionally readjusted.

"Using some vile sorcery, your brother fell upon Ser Stafford Lannister with an army of demon wargs, not three days ride from Lannisport. Thousands of good men were butchered as they slept, without the chance to lift sword. After the slaughter, the northmen feasted on the flesh of the slain."

wow. That's impressive how much bullshit it takes to soothe your ego. "oh they can't have beaten us by normal means, we're too awesome to fall to anything less than sorcery and treachery UwU"

Oh and listen to this boy brag about killing a starving peasant.

"Leave her face," Joffrey commanded. "I like her pretty." ... "Boros, make her naked."

Oh! there's the scene, iirc they moved this in the show, to when Tyrion first arrived at King's Landing, it was his big hero entrance. I think I actually commented when he showed up during the Dontos at the birthday party scene, instead of this one.

Also: holy shit that's brutal, this is so many kinds of assault.

This is an el- no she's... twelve? now? Irrelevant, this is a literal child they are publicly stripping and beating. She should not have to go through this. No one should. No, you know what?

Suddenly, the Iron Throne exploded, the swords which had comprised it rending apart and flying through the room, slaying Joffrey and is minions where they stood, but leaving Sansa unharmed. "What the fuck?" Tyrion asked from the door, but Sansa could only stare in horror. "Right... Not drunk enough for this," Tyrion decided, and had Sansa gently escorted back to her rooms. ... "And then what happened m'lord?" Shae asked as Tyrion brushed her hair in their villa. "And then I messaged Robb and arranged an exchange of prisoners, Sansa is on her way to be traded for Jaime, and my father is on his way here to be hand, and I am going to be lord of Casterly Rock. What do you say, would you like to be a lady?" "Mmmm, alright."

And so everyone lived happily ever after, and Arya made her way home in a slightly unrelated adventure and the girls were never harmed, or scared, or hungry ever again.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Yep, there's Tyrion, here to use his powers (invulnerability to the normal side-effects of mocking and berating the king) for Good.

"Someone give the girl something to cover herself with," the Imp said. Sandor Clegane unfastened his cloak and tossed it at her. Sansa clutched it against her chest, fists bunched hard in the white wool. The coarse weave was scratchy against her skin, but no velvet had ever felt so fine.

I imagine that's the relief. The fact that this is signalling that you're safe again for the time being, both physically and mentally giving you something to hold onto.

"I am not threatening the king, ser, I am educating my nephew. Bronn, Timmet, the next time Ser Boros opens his mouth, kill him." The dwarf smiled. "Now that was a threat, ser. See the difference?" Ser Boros turned a dark shade of red. "The queen will hear of this."

and yet I notice a distinct lack of Boros being killed in the following moments.

Ohhh, hello? no "i'm loyal to my beloved Joffrey" "Sansa you may outlive us all" moment? She's in shock and suffering emotionally, instead of having a moment of quiet girlboss? Oh right, GRRM does foreshadowing and character growth like an actual writer instead of ... whatever the heck D&D were doing. "but we had her be tough and sassy for a whole line here, that's totally foreshadowing for- oh no, we've foreshadowed too much and now everyone will know our plan! The one that we don't even know!!"

"You have a right to know why Joffrey was so wroth. -"

oh my gosh, what is happening? someone giving Sansa valid information? Making sure she knows what's going on? Treating her like a person and not a mushroom?! (Kept in the dark and fed shit) Oh my gosh, this is, I need a moment.

Don't think this will make me ship you two, Tyrion. (One thing I did enjoy about season 8 was the 'amicably divorced still friends' energy they had for about a scene, I feel like that should be their relationship goal, it's just a pity they couldn't skip the 'married' part of the divorce.)

The sad thing is, that in so far as it goes, Tyrion is the closest thing Sansa has to a genuine ally, if only because Tyrion can see more tan Joffrey how the war is going to affect things, and because he's not a total monster. (I'm likely going to be taking this back later when we get in his brain space after the wedding, I'm aware.)

Not that Dontos isn't trying, but... I get the vibe that he wants something, and that's not just because he was working for Petyr in the show. Sandor also, seems like an ally, but again, he clearly wants something, the same something. (we're not even going to pretend like Petyr is subtle. And who knows what Varys wants, they all pawns to him, and I don't even think he's playing chess.)

At the moment, Tyrion is more interested in how Sansa can help stop the war, which let's be honest, isn't very much, this is way bigger than her now, and Tyrion has Shae to keep his other interests.

You know, I think reading this scene, it really helped that I knew help was coming, because I don't think I would have done well otherwise. Joffrey and 'friends' certainly would have found themselves dying in a few more spontaneous AUs.

And she's still determined to go to the Godswood, still holding on to the hope that she can get out of there. She is being so brave, and enduring so much, and not breaking.

[atopvisenyashill]

DAEMON BALLFYRE THEORY

it’s an unserious name but a serious theory!!!

WHAT WE KNOW ABOUT QUENTYN BALL

If Daemon had ridden over Gwayne Corbray . . . if Fireball had not been slain on the eve of battle . .

-small mention from eustace in the sword sword

For his hot head and red hair. Ser Quentyn Ball was the master-at-arms at the Red Keep. He taught my father and my uncles how to fight. The Great Bastards too. King Aegon promised to raise him to the Kingsguard, so Fireball made his wife join the silent sisters, only by the time a place came open, King Aegon was dead and King Daeron named Ser Willam Wylde instead. My father says that it was Fireball as much as Bittersteel who convinced Daemon Blackfyre to claim the crown, and rescued him when Daeron sent the Kingsguard to arrest him. Later on, Fireball killed Lord Lefford at the gates of Lannisport and sent the Grey Lion running back to hide inside the Rock. At the crossing of the Mandel, he cut down the sons of Lady Penrose one by one. They say he spared the life of the youngest one as a kindness to his mother.

-egg says this in the mystery knight, bolded parts mine

Daemon was the name Daena gave to this child, for Prince Daemon had been the wonder and the terror of his age, and in later days that was seen as a warning of what the boy would become. Daemon Waters was his full name when he was born in 170 AC. At that time, Daena refused to name the father, but even then Aegon's involvement was suspected. Raised at the Red Keep, this handsome youth was given the instruction of the wisest maesters and the best masters-at-arms at court, including Ser Quentyn Ball, the fiery knight called Fireball. He loved nothing better than deeds of arms and excelled at them, and many saw in him a warrior who would one day be another Dragonknight.

The king sent the Kingsguard to arrest Daemon before he could take his plans for treason any further. Daemon was forewarned, and with the help of the famously hot-tempered knight Ser Quentyn Ball, called Fireball, he was able to escape the Red Keep safely. Daemon Blackfyre's allies used this attempted arrest as a cause for war, claiming that Daeron had acted against Daemon out of no more than baseless fear. Others still named him Daeron Falseborn, repeating the calumny that Aegon the Unworthy himself was said to have circulated in the later years of his reign: that he had been sired not by the king but by his brother, the Dragonknight.

-these are both from TWOIAF, again bolded and italicized parts mine.

WHAT STICKS OUT TO ME

Quentyn is married, a landless knight, and clearly older than Daena - it’s not just about a man “spoiling” a young, royal maiden but imo also that Quentyn specifically would get in a LOT of trouble because he is low class (see: Bonifer & Rhaella) and married to boot

He was master at arms, which gives him the ability to be in Daemon’s life without arousing suspicion from anyone, and also proximity to Daena to allow for an affair, even with her on the Maidenvault.

He’s name dropped SEVERAL times and he’s clearly very important to the founding of the Blackfyre Rebellion despite being both very lowborn and also dying in a kinda lame way (not even during the battle, just by a lone archer)

He wanted so badly to be on the kingsguard he forced his wife into the Silent Sisters, only to be denied by Daeron

He seemed to be on good terms with Aegon IV

Everyone seems real sure that the daddy was Aegon and we’re not given a reason why

Aegon doesn’t claim Daemon as his bastard until after (presumably) Daena has died

Also, Aegon doesn’t claim Daemon as his bastard until after all of the Great Bastards have been born

EYE think that Aegon IV was purposefully trying to have a bastard that could challenge Daeron, and that his affairs weren’t just like lust, boredom, wanting to disrespect Naerys & Aemon, etc. There is, imo, a shift in his mistresses being just, any woman he has access to - Falena, Bellegere, Cassella, and Meg - to woman who are highborn maidens from powerful families in Westeros - the Blackwoods, Brackens, and Lothstons. Even Serenei fits in here, given that Targ-looking wives from Lys & Volantis are not uncommon before or after Aegon IV. He’s even mentioned as still having a role in Aegor’s life by visiting him, potentially trying to groom him to rebel. But then everything with the Brackens blows up in his face (which is his own fault tbc), and Brynden is an emo fuck with red eyes, and Shiera is a girl. Then Daena dies…..and an opportunity opens up. Daemon looks like a Targaryen, no one knows who the father is, but for some reason everyone already suspects him (imo this is due to Rhaenyra’s boys looking like Harwin - like just a misogyny thing that SURELY Daemon couldn’t get his look from his mother alone, look at Rhaenyra’s kids vs Alicent’s), so publicly claiming Daena’s child at last gives him the perfect rival against Daeron.

ALSO, we have a few times in the story where someone joins the Kingsguard to be closer to a woman they want to protect - Aemon & Naerys, Jaime & Cersei, and Loras & Margaery. I think Lewyn & Elia likely fall under this as well. I think it makes sense Quentyn would see joining the Kingsguard as an opportunity to be closer to both Daena & Daemon especially given his low class status; skilled knights can rise to the Kingsguard even from lowborn or baseborn backgrounds. ALSO ALSO again, our only evidence of Aegon IV being the dad is, ya know, Aegon himself. Daena stayed silent her entire life on the subject. I like to think she had a reason for this - not that she protecting Aegon, but that she was protecting Quentyn.

[bruiisedpetals-a]

                𝐓𝐄𝐍  𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒  𝐀𝐆𝐎 ...

branden is 28 ; newly the lord of winterfell and warden of the north. cerelle is 25 ; a daughter of house lannister of lannisport

branden avoided marriage most his life due to the pressure of the title he would inherit, consented to a match with lady cerelle lannister of lannisport. prior to his fathers recent death this was already being orchestrated, and branden was neither resentful nor excited about the union. they wed within a few months of branden being declared the warden of the north, and she was every bit a southern lady: her pale yellow hair, green-blue eyes and style of dress, when he cloaked her under the weirwood tree the night they wed, he brushed her icy fingers with his own and made sure to pull the warm furs snugly around her with a gentle smile.

she wasn’t of a sour disposition, but was understandably out of her depth so far from home; cerelle was a dainty flower, but she was also intelligent and quick witted and self-confident regardless. and yet, to his surprise, she grew to appreciate the norths’ beauty quickly. even volunteering to walk with branden,  even though she cursed the endless cold under bundles of furs in the same breath as she exclaimed over the ice-laden trees and leaves.  though out of place in the north, she surprised her new husband and the northern people by showing a genuine interest and commitment to her title as lady stark. cerelle forged relationships with his mother and sisters, which delighted him greatly; they taught her how to style her hair in the northern way and soon cerelle eagerly swapped her southern style for northern; framed by soft furs and in brilliant northern shades of dress. cerelle quickly defied anyone who assumed she would cower in the harsh northern snow and run back to the south.

those who once sneered at the idea of a lannister in the north found themselves growing, as branden was, to admire her. several months into their marriage, cerelle came down with an unknown illness; likely initiated by a reaction to some sort of food or drink, it seemed to be nothing too serious. branden stayed by her side every moment he had spare from his lordly duties, she was weakened greatly and the chill of winter was heavy in the air. as she was not contagious, he made certain she was comfortable in their bed and never alone. her family sent letters, and when cerelle wasn’t well enough to write he would pen them for her as she spoke.

what could have been an unlikely love, if time had been on their side, was snuffed out as the golden haired lady stark weakened slowly. the maesters seemed unable to quell a fever that came and went frequently; ravaging cerelle each time.  despite everyone’s best efforts to save her and despite her own ferocious will, she died within the next month. she had been lady stark for almost a year, and branden had her buried in the crypts of winterfell, “as any lady stark should be”, with a statue of her likeness. branden ensured that, on her statues hand, was a likeness of the lion sigil ring she always wore and also that she was buried in the first dress she had made for herself in the northern style.

branden grieved more than he expected, feeling the loss to his core; the loss of the life he had unconsciously begun to build with and around cerelle. after her funeral branden found himself seeking out his mothers comfort in his pain for the first time in many, many years. he will visit her in the crypt to this day, over a decade on, with now time-faded affection in his heart, honouring her memory as his late wife as best he can... and many assumed he never remarried due to this behaviour.

[cerissalefford]

location: gwen’s chamber, casterly rock

@gcuienveres​

within the halls of casterly rock she could feel herself relaxing. there had been a tension deep within her riding through the streets of lannisport to arrive at the castle. most of the ride she spent with her eyes closed, trying to focus on breathing. trying not to think of the city and the memories locked in there. one day she may be strong enough to set foot within the city’s streets but that day had yet to arrive. instead she thought ahead to getting to see her older cousin, gwen.

their first reunion had been an emotional one for many reasons. one of them perhaps because there were both looking at a reflection of what could have happened to themselves. what could have happened if gwen had been the one to be taken that day in lannisport. and what could have happened if cerissa had escaped like her dear cousin. it was unclear why they had been dealt the cards they had. unclear why one escaped while the other did not. there was no explanation to it, there never would be. cerissa had accepted that fact long ago. learned to let go of any anger towards those who had escaped for it was not their fault. over time she found herself happy for them. and glad to not see her cousins face on those islands.

instead she got to see her here in her home. in a place cerissa had always considered her second home for all the time she spent with her mother here.

“gwen!” cerissa greeted her, embracing her cousin tightly. after the travel with her brother, it was nice to finally arrive at their cousin’s home. part of her has wished she could bring along calla, but she knew better than to ask for her sister to attend with them. especially given how everyone was reacting to her. “i am glad to b-be here. it will be nice to get to spend some t-time here, i’ve missed b-being here. i’ve m-m-missed seeing you.”

[eryiscrye]

For the one scene question, Her Name Is Brienne?

This one is easy! It was definitely the scene with bird!Brienne chilling out in Jaime's hair (and yanking at the tangles 😂) as he carried on with every day tasks. The imagery of it still delights me.