#and then for those passed over female heirs to be the ones who turn her out on the streets when she flees kings landing.... oof

[andy-15-07]

hi! I love your feyd rautha fics 🥰 can you write one where the reader is pregnant with his child, a female, and he’s upset and cold with the reader because she’s not a male heir? but then, when she’s born, he’s so transfixed by her beauty and just the fact that she’s his, and that he just melts and swears to kill anyone for her?

My precious one

masterlist ! pairing: Feyd Rautha x reader

Dune Masterlist

The halls of the fortress echoed with an air of tension as Y/n, heavily pregnant with Feyd Rautha's child, moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridors. Feyd, the formidable heir to House Harkonnen, had been distant and cold ever since learning the gender of their unborn child. Tradition demanded a male heir, and Y/n's heart ached with the weight of disappointment as she faced the impending birth of a daughter.

"Y/n," Feyd's voice, usually smooth and commanding, was laced with discontent as he entered their chambers. "What use is a daughter to the House of Harkonnen? You were to bear me a son, a worthy successor."

Y/n's eyes welled with tears, but she fought to maintain her composure. "Feyd, she is still our child, a part of both of us. She will carry the blood of House Harkonnen."

He scowled, turning away. "A daughter will bring us nothing but weakness. I need an heir who can command respect, instill fear in our enemies. This changes everything."

As the days passed, Feyd distanced himself further, leaving Y/n feeling isolated and burdened. The weight of disappointment settled upon her like a heavy cloak, but she clung to the hope that when their daughter arrived, Feyd's heart would soften.

The day of reckoning came, the air thick with anticipation as Y/n went into labor. Feyd, though present, maintained a stoic silence, his eyes betraying the turmoil within. The labor was arduous, but when the cries of their newborn daughter filled the room, Y/n felt an overwhelming sense of joy and relief.

"She's here, Feyd," Y/n whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "Our daughter."

Feyd's eyes met the tiny, squirming bundle in Y/n's arms, and for a moment, the hardness in his gaze softened. The baby girl had a delicate beauty that seemed to captivate him, a sight that defied his earlier expectations.

"What shall we name her?" Y/n asked, her heart swelling with love for their precious child.

"Feydra," he said, the name rolling off his tongue with a tenderness that surprised them both.

Feydra's arrival sparked a transformation in Feyd. The once cold and distant heir was now consumed by an overwhelming protectiveness and love for his daughter. As he held her for the first time, his fingers traced the contours of her tiny face, and he couldn't help but marvel at her innocence.

"She's ours, Y/n," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "I will do anything to protect her. No harm shall come to our Feydra."

From that moment on, Feyd became an attentive and devoted father. He would spend hours cradling Feydra in his arms, his stern countenance replaced by a softness that only she could evoke. The fortress, once a place of cold authority, became a haven for the blossoming love between father and daughter.

As Feydra grew, Feyd's determination to shield her from the harsh realities of their world intensified. He vowed to eliminate any threat that dared to cast a shadow over her, swearing to protect her with a fierceness that only a father's love could inspire.

One day, as father and daughter strolled through the fortress gardens, Feyd's eyes gleamed with an unspoken promise. "Feydra, my precious one, you are the future of House Harkonnen. No harm will befall you as long as I draw breath. I would destroy worlds to keep you safe."

Feydra, oblivious to the dangers that lurked beyond the fortress walls, gazed up at her father with adoration. In those moments, Feyd's heart swelled with a love that transcended bloodlines and tradition. The bond between father and daughter had forged a legacy that defied the expectations of House Harkonnen, proving that love could be a force more powerful than any political alliance or familial obligation.

[skythighs]

Calista's Dream: Spoken Vows

Hello, hello. I'm back with another one, and can I just say I really love writing this. I let this flow naturally while still doing my best to capture feyd the way he is. I did want to pop in and say this story will be dark, so if that is not your thing be warned, the next chapter will take a dark turn.

Warnings: love bombing and then ghosting. lol idk, but murder does occur in this one, and that's all I can think of

Word count: 3.2k

Chapter 4

My lids are closed softly, and my limbs are so relaxed and airy, weightless. Tingles run across my scalp in slow, languid motions over and over, almost lulling me back into a deep slumber. Movement beside me startles me enough for me to open my umber eyes slowly. Alabaster skin, so striking in the early morning, makes me gasp, but the slow strokes in my hair put me at ease. Feyd’s blue black eyes are watching me as he rests on his side, enveloping my body with his own as I face him. He makes no move to stop stroking my hair and only watches me silently waiting for me to be the first to break the peaceful moment.

I refuse, and so early morning falls into late. By now his absence in the training yard has been noticed and my absence from my room will surely follow. However I can’t find it within me to care. 

“Such a sweet pet.” His gritty voice almost sings out.

Pet. He called me that last night as well, but what did he mean by it?

“Such a perfect pet.” He says in the same singsong tone as before.

He stops stroking my hair and I find myself missing the feeling immediately. He removes himself from the bed and makes his way to the chamber door.

“Leave.” Gone was his soft almost sweet demeanor. I was now met with an unyielding sternness in his tone as I slowly made my way towards the exit.

As I make my way down the corridor, the hairs on the back of my neck don't stand on end. I check my arms for the tell tale sign, but my gooseflesh has not risen. His shark-like eyes aren’t following me out of the corridor and the thought disturbs me. The next six days passed by once again with the stark absence of Feyd Rautha, and each day chipped away at a piece of me.

It was now the morning of my wedding, there were maids fussing with my jewels and my hair. They were fretting over my gown and my makeup. They were flustered, and clucked like hens begging for feed, and I was in a daze. Aware and yet..not. It was like an out of body experience. My mother chalked it up to nerves, but that wasn’t it. I was confused. Feyd Rautha seemed so eager to wed me, by showing up here earlier than planned. He watched me hungrily and seemed to be growing an attachment to me. His sudden disappearance however made me question our interactions. 

Was I imagining those things? Perhaps the feelings he stirred within me weren't reciprocated in the slightest, and I was just a foolish girl. It wasn’t hard to believe as I’ve had zero experience with the opposite sex aside from soldiers who see me as my fathers own image. The female embodiment of their Duke whom they love and serve. I was far too unattainable to them. Beautiful, yes, but much like fine art. I was meant to be admired but never tainted by them or any other until now. 

Before I know it I’m dressed and prepared to become Na Baroness Harkonnen. I will be leaving Caladan after the celebration feast. I’ll be whisked away to Giedi Prime, the waste land with a black sun and murderous population. I will no longer be an Areides by name, but solely by blood. 

“Come Cali.”

My mother gestured to the full length mirror across the chambers that would no longer belong to me when this day was done.

I make my way to her and she places me before the mirror. I take in the woman through the looking glass and she’s beautiful. She’s dressed in cream with a lovely beaded bodice. Her very image is that of untouched innocence and she mocks me. Her jewels shine brightly, solidifying her status as a well loved Duke's heir. Only when Leto enters the room does the situation truly sink in. The woman in the mirror is me. I couldn’t recognize myself, but somehow I saw myself in his eyes.

‘ I am him. I am an Atreides, I am his very own blood, and I will not be a lamb. I will be strong like my father raised me to be.’

 My newest mantra repeated throughout the wedding ceremony, where I saw the groom for the first time in days. He was the stark opposite of me. An inky swirl dropped into water being diluted slowly but surely. On Caladan, his darkness could not penetrate beyond surface level. However, the playing field was about to shift, I would soon be entering his terrain. I would be the lone drop of pure water in a pool of ink black fluid. 

“Repeat after me, together.” called the officiant.

“Blood of my blood, we have become one. Your cause is my cause, your death, my death. Your heart is my heart to keep and protect. Your body, my temple to never neglect.”

We recited the words in sync, but the words didn’t reach either of us, not the true meaning. These vows now bind us to one another as well as the law, but what did it really mean in the grand scope of things? What would it mean once we reached Giedi Prime, the proverbial brood of vipers? I am no lamb, but surely I am human, and as such, I could succumb to venom. 

Feyd Ruatha thanked my family yet again for their hospitality and with “deep regret” informed them we would leave immediately after the meal. The feast went by so quickly, even though I took my time cutting and chewing my food slowly. I bid farewell to my treasured father with a kiss and lingering hug. My mother hugged me and stroked my hair before resting her forehead against mine. Using the Atreides spoken battle language, she whispers to me.

“You must insure your future, my love.”

All of Caladan was present. They wished me safe travels as Gurney sang a sad tune. A tune filled with melancholy, nostalgia, and hope for what was to come. My husband grabs my arm and leads me to our travel guild ship. His grip was firm as though he worried I would be stolen away before we reached the ship. Gone was the hunger in his eyes. Gone were the soft strokes of my hair. All that was left between us felt ice cold and bleak. All that remained was his tight grip on my flesh. His harshness was unyielding, unlike before. He had yielded to me only six nights ago when I kissed him softly and exploratorily. He would yield to me again. I would see to it.

I spent the journey to Giedi Prime in solitude. Feyd Rautha made no attempts to be near me or consummate our nuptials. The implications alone left me shamefaced. Once we arrived at Giedi Prime, his statements about it being the opposite of Caladan with its lush green terrain were proven true. It was gray. Gray outside where the black sun shone ominously. Thankfully, once indoors away from the sun, color could be perceived again. Although color was perceivable, the Harkonnen palace was still void of it. The walls were mat gray and very minimalistic. There was not a single trace of artwork lining the walls, and that made it feel even more cold.

“Take Na Baroness to her quarters, bring her food. Beyond that, she is not to be disturbed.”

“Na Baron, unfortunately, her quarters are not yet prepared.”

Feyd sliced the servant with a severe expression. 

“Forgive me.”

The already slouched servant dropped another five inches bowing in half before Feyd Rautha. The poor woman was quivering in fear. She never once looked away from the ground.

“Bring her to my quarters. Bring her food and do not disturb her further.”

With that he stormed off in the opposite direction of where the servant led me. 

“Na Baroness, your trunks will be brought in shortly. Please get comfortable while you wait and I will prepare a simple meal for you.”

She opened the grand double doors and allowed me into the room. It was dark and a bit ominous. I stepped in cautiously, looking for any proof it was lived in. As I turned to the wall opposite the large sleek bed, I lost my breath. Staring back at me was well, me. A portrait from two years ago with my wild dark waves untamed in my small act of defiance against the hairless Harkonnen. I had forgotten about it, and yet here it is hanging across from the very bed upon which he sleeps. It feels intimate in a way, knowing I was the first thing he would see when he rose in the morning and most likely the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes in slumber. I looked beautiful in the painting. It clearly highlighted my best features while muting the less desirable ones. 

I make myself comfortable in his quarters wondering when he would return. My trunks are delivered and shortly after that so is my food. I ate alone at a small table near a large window that was covered in dark gray drapes. The only spec of color in the entire room is my painting which makes it very eye-catching indeed. A single silent servant entered the chambers to help me undress and wash before retiring to sleep. Alone. 

The next day went much the same. I was waited on by one single staff member. She helped me dress for the day in a grand gown of maroon. It was form fitting unlike the flowing skirts I wore on Caladan, but I was a girl no longer. I was now a woman, Na Baroness Harkonnen to be exact. It was nearing noon when the chamber doors were pushed open unceremoniously. Feyd Rautha stood stock still watching me closely as I sat in the window seat. I had been looking out the window to help pass time, but I was near dead from boredom.

He was dressed formally and there were maroon cuff links at his sleeves.

“The Baron is ready to receive you, wife.”

He does not wait as he strolls out of the room in his long legged steps. I scurry to follow after him. My maroon dress almost seemed bright compared to the pristine but drab palace. There were servants moving silently about the corridors and they seemed to blend in with the very walls as Feyd Rautha stomped through them. I could never lock eyes with them because their eyes were always rooted to the floor as if it held every answer to every question they could possibly have the courage to utter past their lips.

We arrived at the most ornate pair of doors in the entirety of the palace. The gold knobs set them apart from the other black doors. I could only assume this was the great hall where a welcome feast would be held in honor of our union, however when the doors were opened and all that was visible was the giant form of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen I knew I was mistaken. Feyd stepped aside allowing me entrance before him.

The stark room was bare, all that was visible was the Barons huge frame and his Mentat. His hover seat was elevated enough that I had to look up at him in greeting.

“My dear Feyd. Welcome home, truly you were much missed.” 

“Calista Atreides. Welcome to Giedi Prime. I hope my nephew has made you feel at home.”

The Baron smirked at me with a knowing glint in his eyes. He knew I spent my first night and half a day alone. Beyond that he was happy about it. 

“He’s made me feel most welcome Baron.”

Feyd stood silently behind me not uttering a single word as he watched his uncle and I exchange words. I could feel his body heat, but he was not touching me.

“I do apologize your chambers weren’t prepared in time for your arrival. It seemed there was always something more important to be done.”

That snide look flashed forward, taunting me to react.

More important? I see. This was him clarifying my place here. I was nothing to him, but an insignificant girl. I schooled my expression to one of indifference. 

“Please don’t apologize, I much prefer sharing my husband's quarters. ”

The snide look was replaced by one of contempt. He glanced at Feyd over my shoulder before waving me away.

“There will be a feast this evening to celebrate your union, Princess Atreides.”

“Na Baroness Harkonnen, now that we’re wed, Baron.” I gesture to Feyd Rautha as I speak.

“Leave me.”

He waves his gelatinous hand and I feel Feyd grip my waist and pull me towards him as he heads for the exit. All the while the Baron never looks away from us. He looked at me as if we were rivals on the battlefield. As if I possessed something he greatly desired. 

“I knew you were no coward, wife.” 

Feyd looked proud as he spoke. His hand hadn't left my waist yet as he led me back to his chambers.

“Why did you not join me last night?”

 I question him once we enter his quarters. Looking at him in earnest trying to understand whatever game he is playing. He circles me slowly, in a contemplative state.

“I was preparing for you. Be patient and you will have me soon enough.”

He brushes past me and heads towards the doors, almost as if he had to escape me.

“There’s a dress in the wardrobe. Wear it tonight.”

With that he was gone...again. Was I meant to be confined in this room for the rest of my damned life? Absolutely not. I made my own less dramatic exit from the room deciding it was time to explore my new residence. I walk up and down the endless corridors listening for any sign of life in the lusterless place. I eventually stumble upon the great hall that is being prepared by almost a hundred servants. I am spotted by the meak female that had helped me the night before. She actually looks away from the floor long enough to notice me watching her.

“Na Baroness, forgive me, do you need assistance?” She quickly stumbles towards me bowing before me.

“I was pulled away to assist for tonight's feast.” She explains further.

“No, no I’m fine, merely bored. What is your name? You were so attentive last night. I'd like to offer you my thanks.”

“I have no name Na Baroness. You need not waste your breath thanking me I am not worthy of it. Please.”  She bows further. 

“What’s going on here?” Barked a rugged voice. I turn to find the source and am met with a towering Harkonnen soldier sneering down upon me.

“Nothing is going on that concerns you. We are having a word between ladies.”

“You shouldn’t be here Atreides. She is no lady, she is a slave” He grabs my arm roughly, jerking me like a rag doll.

“I am Na Baroness Harkonnen you brute and you will do well to remember that. Unhand me.” I pull my arm free feeling the bruise forming.

“Na Baroness in name only. You have no power here, you’re just a cunt for the taking.” He bellows out loudly with a roaring laugh.

I see red and strike him harshly across the face. He immediately stops his laughter and prepares to strike me in retaliation. I move out of his reach quickly. The nameless girl then moves in front of me using her body as a shield when he approaches yet again.

“What is going on here my wife? Have you found trouble so quickly?”

Feyd Rauthas gravel coated voice sang out from behind the soldier across the room. He stepped further in assessing the situation. His eyes were hotter than burning flames as he looked at my splotchy red arm.

“I was speaking with this servant here, she helped me yesterday and I was going to request she continue to do so-”

“You don’t request anything. You are Na Baroness. You need only speak it and it shall be done.”

“What happened to your arm?” He continues without a beat as he makes his way to the three of us and he begins circling like a mad dog looking for the perfect place to sink his teeth into.

“This soldier grabbed me and attempted to strike me.”

Feyd Rautha clicks his tongue three times shaking his head.

“Well this won't do at all. Why did you try to strike my wife?”

“She struck me first, Na Baron. It was self defense.”

“Self defense? I see. You would strike me Na Baron Feyd Rautha in self defense if I struck you first?”

“No Na Baron never.” 

The tall soldier seemed so small and a lot less threatening now that Feyd was here. I watched the two interact as the soldier bowed before my husband submissive now where he had once been trying to dominate. 

“But you tried to strike my wife. My Na Baroness, who is an extension of me. Is she not?”

The man breaks out into a sweat. No doubt trying to find a way out of this that doesn't end with his life forfeit. 

“I made a mistake, Na Baron. I will pay whatever price you deem fit.”

Feyd moves behind me placing my back to his front holding my waist tenderly.

“Kiss her feet or die.”

The soldier drops to his pitiful knees before lowering his face to the ground before my slippered feet.

“Do it now.” Orders my husband.

And he does. He kisses both feet gingerly, almost too afraid to press too roughly against me. A total change from his rough handling a short five minutes ago.

Feyd moves his mouth to my ear and whispers to me.

“You made a mistake too, my sweet pet. Instead of striking his face you should have sliced his neck.”

He pulls a dagger from his belt and closes his hand around mine forcing me to clutch it properly.

“You must remedy this mistake of yours now. Strike true this time so he can never retaliate against us again.”

A tender kiss is placed on my neck before he steps back to watch me kill a man. As I stand in deep contemplation I feel the slightest weight of his fingers in my hair. He stroked a single lock of waves as he eagerly waited for my action. I step forward to the kneeling man who offers his neck to me willingly and slice across his throat before turning away quickly.

“No no, don't turn away. You have to watch your first kill.”

Feyd grips my face, turning me back to the soldier whose life blood leaks down his black uniform. He dies proudly and with dignity despite the circumstances. A single stray tear leaks from my eyes and Feyd Rautha licks it off my cheek and I’ve never wanted him more.

Taglist: @mamawiggers1980 @drunkennunicornn @aoi-targaryen @lovereadingfanfic

[queers-gambit]

One Sunrise at a Time

prompt: you have news for your husband.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 7.4k+

note: last in the series, my heart. got a thing for making 'bad boys' simps for their ladies - that's great shit right there. author has had too much coffee and can feel her heartbeat in her eyes.

warnings: cursing, mild angst, Daemon's a shitty husband and a dumb boy, but he's also a simp so super OC!Daemon, um, more baby-making smut, talk of difficult fertility journey, let's all run away from our problems.

previous: part five: Bright Light

Three years after your wedding night, and you still had not given your husband an heir; leaving a small divide between you both. You knew it stung at his pride that his seed will not take, and you grew worried that you were past your prime to bare children; where you both felt an obligation each month to couple, wait for results, and speak little.

By every God did it drive you insane. You wanted to be close to him, but Dameon busied himself while you took up post as 'Master of Whispers' for the King.

After 'the incident' that followed rumor of her virginity, he took your ear often to speak worries to you. And the young servants and orphans of the city passed word to you of their findings, dubbing them your Little Birds that like to tweet in your ear. You filtered what passed unto the King, wanting to take your Lord husband's ear, but was scarce in his appearance, and little did you get to his counsel.

However, you remained in Kings Landing for those three years, and you could tell it was wearing at Daemon's already limited patience. You passed time with Princess Rhaenyra, who you became quite close to in your time, and during court season, you still sponsored your step-sons; adamant on finding them suitable wives.

This season was going favorably, and Kase was courting Lord Stark's second daughter while Jamie was courting the young, but beautiful, (only) Lady Caldwell. You heard nothing from the Ladies Aline and Jocey, but you worried not for them, because Kase gave you every update possible. He liked taking afternoon teas with you, and you knew you'd miss him most.

"Mother!" Kase grinned, finding you in the gardens. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Oh, whatever for, my dear boy?" you asked gently, knowing damn well what the lad wanted.

"Might you... Accompany me?"

"Where?"

"Into the city," he nodded with a growing grin, bouncing on his toes to swish his long, dark hair around his face. "I need to visit the jeweler."

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to propose," he grinned, making you giggle and clap your hands.

"Oh, my boy! This is so exciting!"

"Oh! Isn't it!" He beamed with you, taking your hands tightly in his. "And I need your help picking a ring, mother."

"Yeah?"

"Please?"

"Of course," you nodded, "just let me stop off at my chambers, I will get money for the ring."

"No, I've plenty - "

"No, no, you're going to let me pay, and we're not going to let expense be a barrier. Please, I will do the same for Jamie," you whined. "'S no fun being a Princess if I can't spoil you."

Kase nodded, "Let us go now, I want to be back by sunset."

"When are you doing it? When are you asking?"

"I'm asking her father for permission tonight, I want to show Lord Stark the ring first. You know, show I can provide for his beloved daughter," he explained, making you nod with understanding. His arm was then offered to you as escort, whisking you away to your chambers, and when you both burst through the door in a fit of giggles, he straightened up first.

Your eyes cut over to see Daemon idling by a table, the Grand Maester at his side. "Oh, right," you breathed, turning to Kase, "love, go to the foyer, I'll meet you there in a few moments."

"Are you sure?"

"I forgot, but this is a prior commitment," you smiled, giving his forearm a squeeze. "Go on, I'll be right there."

"I'll wait with the guards," he nodded with assurance, offering a nod to the Grand Maester. Then, "Prince Daemon," and he was bowing out of the room, closing it behind him.

You sighed gently, nearing the pair with your fingers twiddling nervously. "Is there any change?" You asked diplomatically to the Maester.

His old eyes shot between both you and your husband, "Well, I ran the tests, just as I usually do..."

"Is there any change?" You repeated firmly.

"No, Princess. Not this month, apparently..."

"Right," you nodded, waving him off, "then we are adjourned. Something is... Wrong with my womb," you hesitated to admit, feeling jarred by the notion as Daemon would not meet your eyes. So, you stared at the quivering Maester.

"Well, we could try other methods," the Grand Maester explained, making your throat bob. "I can bring a list of options later, or we can go over them now, if either of you are prepared to hear them?"

"No, later will be fine," you assured, sniffling after, and clearing your throat. "Thank you, Grand Maester, again... That will be all, thank you," You moved for the door, opening it with meaning; the old man glancing at your husband, who remained quiet, and did not look up from the table's top.

"My Prince," the Grand Maester nodded, shuffling out of the room, "Princess."

"Thank you," you whispered again, the door shutting firmly after. You did not look at Daemon as you moved for the safe you kept, drawing a velvet draw-string bag of Gold Dragons to your possession as Daemon remained stoically still.

"Where are you going with that?" He asked, eyeing you wearily.

"We agreed to pay for Kase and Jamie's engagement rings, did we not?" You asked gently.

"Right," he nodded. "Kase is ready then, is he?"

"He is."

"Right..."

You paused before deciding on changing your shoes, finally bucking up the courage to speak as you did so, "I'm sorry, you know."

"What for?"

"For being unable to give you a child," you admitted meekly, staring at the laces you did up tightly. "I did not - if I knew, I would not have - I would not have married you."

"No?"

"No," you answered definitively, tying off the laces of your boots before standing and settling your purse to your person. "I will understand if you do not wish to continue this marriage with me, as you were anticipating a healthy, functioning wife."

Your bitter, vile words marred your face as you hastened for the door, but his hands were like a stranger's grabbing your upper arm. You gasped lightly as you turned almost in shock, back against the door as he looked down at you with something akin to anger.

"Why do you speak such words?" He asked in High Valyrian.

"Because it's true, isn't it?"

"You are deeply mistaken," he shook his head, "because nothing about your ability to bare me children has ever influenced my want to marry you."

"That is laughable, for you fuck me like it's a chore, barely share my bed, only half-way look at me, and have been avoiding me like-like-like the plague, or something! As if I have Grey Scale!" You emotions tipped and tears filled your eyes, cascading past your waterline. "As if your mind is far from your body, and Gods only know where that is!"

"Sweetheart - "

"No, I needed you!" You sobbed. "I needed my husband, and it was like you couldn't even look at me! Be in a room with me! Share my bed - hold me in your arms! My God, Daemon, when was the last time you told me you loved me?"

His mouth opened before his brows furrowed, expression falling, "I fear I do not know."

"See?" You sniffled. "It's like I am not here, like we are not truly married, and my heart hurts, Daemon. I do not want this for us, so, if this is the grounds you use, being that I am barren, then use it, and cut us both free. I'm sorry. I really am, Daemon, please, I did not intend for this to happen. I did not know."

"Please, do not apologize to me, and let me offer my own," he shook his head, shame taking his features. "I have no excuse for myself - "

"Are you here now?" You begged.

"Yes," he swore.

"Then come with us to pick a ring, spend the day with me, please. I miss you so much, I am so fucking sad and by Gods, do I feel so alone."

"No, I am here now, pet," he promised. "I'm so sorry I was absent, but I'm here, I'm with you. I'm so sorry. Fuck, my dove, I'm sorry you feel alone."

"I'm sorry I'm not pregnant," you whispered, your hands moving to press to your empty womb; his hands laying over yours.

"No matter what is to pass, you are everything I need, and more. Everything I need, all I have ever wanted. Look at me, please," he asked quietly, forehead resting on yours as your eyes slowly rose - forcing them apart. "I have loved you everyday I've known you, and nothing will change that. No child will make me care more or less for you, because you're perfect for me, poppet."

"I don't want to be alone..."

"We will never be alone," he promised, kissing your forehead. "The Grand Maester will bring us options..."

"I want to give you a natural child," you whimpered.

"The Gods will decide, but for now... I could stand taking my duties as husband a little more seriously. You have felt unloved and I took vows to never let you go a day like that - I will resolve this."

You nodded, lifting your hands to pet over his chest, "Please just stay with me today. I feel like a fucking failure - not only as a wife, but as a woman."

"You are fare from a failure," he swore, switching back to the Common Tongue to prove how serious his words were.

"Then why can I not give you a child?"

"Because the Gods have not deemed it so," he sighed. "I am disappointed, yes, but nothing makes me love you less. I'm sorry I've neglected you."

"Be with me now, maybe buy me something pretty, and all is forgiven."

"Deal," he agreed with a small chuckle, sliding his hand over your cheek. "I love you. Fuck, dove, I love you so much."

You nodded, tears still falling, "I love you, too. So much so, Daemon, that being away from you hurts. As annoying and pathetic as that might be."

"Hey, no," he hushed you gently. "Never again will you know that pain for I will not be the cause of it any longer," he promised, pressing a searing-hot kiss to your salty wet lips. "Now, when is Jamie proposing?"

"I don't know yet, we're worrying about Kase today," you nodded, nuzzling your nose to his.

So lead to Daemon preparing for your day, lacing your fingers together as he escorted you to the foyer. Kase was waiting patiently, smirking when he saw the pair of you approach, "Ha! I knew it."

"What?"

"That he would be joining us," Kase grinned now. "Everything's good now?"

"Yes, we are resolved," you assured. "And we're dedicated to finding you a ring, so, shall we?"

He sighed, "She deserves something pretty. You know?"

"Pretty is a great start," you smirked, Daemon's hand tightening. "It's what Daemon's going for today, too."

"Yeah? You're in the market?" Kase wondered.

"For anything my wife wants," Daemon nodded, leading the way out of the Red Keep. "She's been without something new for far too long."

"I want to be able to do that," Kase sighed. "Like, my wife's sad? I can just up and buy her a new ring, or necklace, or whatever, and she's okay."

"In all honesty, I'd be happy with flowers from the gardens," you chuckled, "but my husband is dramatic, Kase, and likes to spend money."

"Only on you," he assured, tugging you in closer. "So, Kase, any idea where to start?"

"Something shiny?"

"Oh, he's helpless," your husband teased, to the enjoyment of your step-son.

"So, tell me," Kase muttered when you finally stepped off castle grounds - half a dozen Gold Cloaks at your flank, "what news did the Maester bring?"

"I am not pregnant," you admitted with indignation, trying to remain passive - as if this whole situation didn't cause your skin to crawl.

"Yet," Daemon tacked on with encouragement, "because in truth, lad," he told Kase, "I have not been as diligent in my duties as a husband as I should be."

"Meaning?"

"We don't fuck nearly enough - but that is set to change," he eased with a smirk; you hand smacking his stomach playfully.

"Well, you actually don't spend any time with me," you pointed out, feeling silly admitting it aloud. "Might we... I don't know, move along to another subject? How are matters with the Lady Stark, Kase?"

"Well, Jamie and I spoke of it, and if the Ladies agreed to it, have a duel wedding here with you before we return home. My Lady's father gifted her a small stead near Winterfell... I think we might move there after the ceremony."

"And Jamie?"

"Would still be Lord, only, married, and no longer in the capital," Kase paused to consider, "with very little reason to return to this city."

Pointing that out seemed to set you off some, though you did not let it show. The idea was that both lads were to marry this season, and Daemon was antsy to escape Kings Landing for across the Narrow Sea seemed like a terribly convenient coincidence. Daemon's been more than gracious to let you linger as you did, but now that the truth was tangibly verbalized about your boys leaving and not returning, Gods, did it sting!

Daemon and Kase asked one another a few questions back and forth in further effort to know one another, your feet and lower back starting to ache. Perhaps you were to start your cycle soon...

Time through the city drug only because it was evident Kase was 'forcing' time between you and your husband by going the long routes through market stalls. By the time you arrived at the jewelers, all 6 Gold Cloaks were holding items bought because you had so simply as 'gazed fondly at it.'

And he was even worse in the jeweler, though you talked him down to only one item - be it a ring, or heavy necklace, so solid gem broach... With reluctance, Dameon agreed, and the pair of you focused on helping Kase make his decisions. Your husband advised he simply go with whatever spoke to his heart, but it was evident the lad was becoming overwhelmed.

So, you stepped up, and together, pieced together what he thought would be suitable for his bride-to-be. Daemon watched with a smirk, gazing over other options for anything he found intriguing for you, but paused when Kase exclaimed, "AH-HA! YES!"

"Kase!" You scolded.

"Sorry, sorry," he winced, looking from you, to the jeweler, then to Daemon, "sorry. I just... I think I found the one!"

"Let's see it, lad," Daemon nodded, clasping the young Lord's shoulder and looking at what he held. "Befitting for a young woman so beautiful as your bride. It will do nicely - yes, we'll take it," he assured the salesman.

"Gems are imported from Qaarth."

"Where before?" You wondered.

"No idea," the man admitted. "But it's real nice, yeah?"

"It is, please, set it aside for us," you nodded to the man, then pointed to a pretty, solid gold necklace that held a plaque that looked as if it could be carved into. "And might I see that, please?"

"Course," the man mumbled, and the necklace was produced for your hands to examine.

"If I gave you script, could you engrave this for me?"

"Anything you'd like, Princess," he nodded in agreement.

"I'll send the instructions with a lad later," you smiled. "We'd like those two items - might we settle the debt now?"

"If you'd like, of course."

"I'd like to, yes," you nodded from the salesman to your Lord husband. "Daemon? Love?"

"Right," he sighed, pulling the money pouch from his belt after fearing that if you carried it, it would encourage violence against you. "What's the number then?"

As the two talked price, Kase was beaming as he examined his ring choice - glancing at you, and making you prompt, "She'll be blown away."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," you assured. "It's a beautiful selection, she's going to just die when she sees it. And her father will not think you lowly, but capable of providing for his daughter."

"But what if... What if I can't?" Kase mumbled, turning to you. "What if I screw up so bad, it can't be fixed, and she leaves me - or whatever have you!? I fear I am only a second son and hold no land or titles, but that my brother does, and so long as he draws breath, I have nothing..."

"Kase..."

"No, no, just that I want to be with the Lady Stark - even on her homestead, if it means being away from you all... But what if I ruin it?"

"You won't," you spoke with assurance.

"So quick to - "

"I know you, Kase, get out of your head," you advised as Daemon paid that debt owed. Kase sighed and thanked the jeweler, following Daemon from the shop, after you.

The entire walk back through town, Kase worried he wasn't good enough for Lady Stark - and Daemon was far too amused when the boy asked him for help. Daemon's solution? To take the lad to a tavern, but you weren't sure.

"C'mon, Mum, it'll cap off a great day," Kase encouraged. "And we can get drunk! It's a win-win!"

You chuckled, "You're aware of what we've on our person?"

"Yes, yes, but no one would dare cross the Prince of the City!"

Heaving a sigh, you glanced around to the Gold Cloaks. "Can we trust you to bring this all back to our chamber and lock the door?" You asked them, handing over the engagement ring but Kase lunged for it.

"Wait!"

"Oh, hell no," you snapped, taking the ring and pointing a warning finger, "I've been to enough taverns in my life to watch men gamble away whatever be in their pockets - and I will not jeopardize this ring! It's going to our room to be locked up, hmm?"

"Well," he looked nervous.

"I trust these men," Daemon nodded, "and if they choose to steal from us, or to vary from whatever my wife asks, they know the extent to which I will take to punish them."

"Oh, Daemon," you swatted at him, "you do not need to threaten everyone!"

"How would they know I'm serious?"

You sighed, handing the ring over. "Please?"

"Of course, Princess," one of the guardsman assured. "You've a key?"

"Yes, you can lock it, I've a way in for us," you smiled lightly, nodding as they took their leave. "Are we sure?" You asked Kase and Daemon.

"About the tavern? Yes - c'mon," Kase groaned, tugging you forward as Daemon quickly swooped in behind you. The tavern was relatively lively for the middle of the afternoon, but you were not one to offer judgement as Daemon was greeted calmly, happily...

Like you would a friend.

Your hand found his quickly out of nervousness, lacing together as Kase went for the bar to open a tab and Daemon secured a table by shooing off the residents of the back corner booth.

"Look here, position is everything," he mumbled, guiding you into a seat with him beside you; stuck like glue, "and from here we've the advantage."

"Should we even be here?"

"We're all right," he assured softly. "But if you are uncomfortable, my dove, we will leave."

"No," you sighed, peering around him to the bar, spying Kase talking with animation to the bartender, "he looks excited. But do you frequent this bar?"

"I do," he nodded. "'S why I brought us here, the security is under my payment right now... But I wanted to talk to you about something."

"What would that be?"

His fingers gently pinched your chin, sighing almost sadly, "How would you feel about leaving Westeros?"

"Not just Kings Landing?"

He nodded, "I'd take us across the Narrow Sea."

"Oh," you breathed, nodding slowly. "Well, that's something... When do you want to leave?"

"After the lads are married, so, the end of the season?"

You worried slightly, "Is that enough time?"

"We've three months, dove," he nodded, petting down your cheek, "and in truth, we've no more attachments here... Let us leave," he breathed against your lips, puckering his to kiss you. "Let us be done, we'll get away from the city."

"See the world?" You smirked some.

"I'll take you wherever you want to go," he nodded. "Maybe getting away from the city will give us the stress-free environment we'll need to conceive a child."

"You think that's our issue?" You sighed, lacing your hand with his to lean your chin on his shoulder. His own head tilted to caress your forehead.

"Perhaps," he alluded, "but we still have to hear the Maester out."

"Right..."

"Come on, pet, there's hope still," he nodded, kissing your forehead. "And perhaps we see the world instead," he chuckled some, "I don't think I'd mind that. Traveling the world with you?"

"What if we have children?"

"Hey?"

"Wouldn't you want your children to have dragon eggs?"

He sighed, "We can talk logistics later, but yes, I would... It is their birth right," one of his arms was around your back, the other flattening his palm to your stomach. "The Gods will bless us one day."

"But no harm in practicing?" You teased, leaning up to peck his lips quickly. "I fear it's been too long since I've loved you properly, husband."

"Make that my burden," he shook his head, glancing up as his hips shifted when one of your hands laid on his thigh, "and I will make it up to you when we get back - ah!" He hissed when you boldly palmed his crotch before casually settling your arms at his hips when Kase returned to the table, carrying two jugs of ale and three cups stacked on his head. "Devilish woman," he mocked in your ear.

"Here, here!" Kase laughed, setting the jugs down as he dodged around to keep the cups on his head.

"Kase - good Gods!" You laughed, helping him.

"C'mon, we're here for a good time," he laughed in return.

"Are you drunk already?" Daemon perked a stoic brow, but you saw the mischief stretch across his face as a smirk.

"Yes," Kase nodded rapidly, pouring the ale for you all. "The lads at the bar were happy to hear of my impending engagement!"

"Oh, sweetheart," you chuckled lightly, giving Daemon's thigh a squeeze - making him jolt a bit - but Kase didn't notice because you asked, "sure they weren't hitting on you?"

"Really? On me?" He gaped, taking his seat finally, gulping his ale. "No, no, no, it was... No, it was harmless!"

"Mhm," you smirked.

"They were kindly!"

"Okay, okay!" You relented, "So, we are celebrating this afternoon. Is there something you want to talk about?"

"Yes," he slurred, "why won't her father give his permission?"

"Wait," you perked up, "did you already ask?"

"Mhm, weeks ago," he waved off between gulps of mind-numbing-ale. "But he said no, but let me continue to court her... So, I thought the ring would show I am the man for her!"

"Oh, wow," you nodded from under Daemon's arm now tossed around your shoulders, "well, that's, uh... Wow..."

"Lad, you've nothing to worry over," Daemon assured, "because there is no other for his daughter, hey? Obviously it is a love-match, and she is adamant on her end that he's not been able to force her to court others. He will not limit his daughter's happiness, yet I would argue you were smart in thinking the ring would help."

"You think it will?"

"Yes," Daemon nodded.

"Hmm," he considered, skulling his drink in full. Daemon chuckled in your ear, nuzzling into your neck, as if three years of slowly drifting apart hadn't been overcome in an afternoon at the jewelers. Your mind began to drift with ideas of how to get him back, and as Kase was enraptured with telling a story, you started to slowly palm Daemon's growing bulge. You felt his thighs tighten, but his throat bobbed to keep his cool - eyes set on Kase's overly animated storytelling movements.

"Dove," Daemon warned under his breath when you pulled the strings of his trousers loose.

"Sh," you cooed, sliding your fingers along his girth to reposition and give a few slow tugs with the table being the only cover between his bare cock and prying eyes.

His breathing shifted but he kept his cool, your hand needing to keep at an angle to protect his cock from the under belly of the table. Kase had shifted his attention half to those who would listen, Daemon's jaw steeling - hips sinking into the seat to keep from bucking. "Oh, fuck," he whispered, stifling a groan.

"Good boy," you purred, giving his shaft a squeeze as his tip leaked. "Always a good boy for me, hmm?"

"Yes," he panted, head bowed to yours again - and to anyone looking over, they would think twice about bothering you. "Just for you."

"Don't cum, save it for my cunt," you switched your tongue to High Valyrian. "Hold it, my Prince."

"Enough," he growled, literally smacking your hand away and instantly tucking himself back into his trousers. Nobody paid you any mind as he stood and gathered you from the booth, then hoisting Kase's arm over his shoulders. "Come on," he told you, "hold onto me."

Your hand latched onto his belt as he had full-hold of Kase. The tavern had grown in patron numbers, forcing a part in the crowd for you as you moved. On the street, Kase started singing, and Daemon kept a wobbly hold on him. When you return to the Keep, luckily, you didn't run into anyone important on your way to deposit the Lord in his chambers - you returning to your chambers, and finding the door locked and all the shopping left in the room.

Good, everything was where it should be.

You were sorting through the day's shopping when Daemon returned, who was then instantly on you with his mouth open to your neck; hands bunching up your skirts as his swollen cock was rutted into the round of your arse.

"Daemon," you gasped, hands bracing on the mattress of your bed as he finally gained access to your cunt, groaning in satisfaction when his fingers met your wet hole.

"I need this," he panted, yanking his cock free to run up and down your slick, and then push in. You both gasped in relief, your chest falling to the bed as his pressed to your back; humping into you as you let him take you as he wanted. "Wanted you in my mouth first but fuck - I couldn't wait."

"Harder, Daddy," you begged, clutching your sheets with desperation.

"Yeah, that's right, fucking beg for me," he encouraged, lifting off of your to piston his hips almost painfully. "Yes, my dove, fuck, take it all. Make me a Daddy, please, please, dove. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck - "

"Fucking cum in me, please," you begged, "I need it - I need to be full."

"Keep talking."

"Let me make you a Daddy, please," you yelped, whining into the sheets before yelping when his hand slapped over your arse cheek. "Fuck me harder, please, I need it so bad!"

"Take it then," He barked, one foot up on the mattress for leverage, hands wrapped around your neck and into your hair. You whined wantonly as he grit his teeth and jack-hammered forward into you with desperation. "FUCK!"

He came with a shout, coming to a standstill as his balls emptied into you; leaving him to rut boyishly into you as his lungs stuttered for air. You were panting as well, letting one elbow hold you up as the other reached up to pet over his cheek. "Someone can't last like before, hey?"

"Oh, you wicked woman," he laughed lightly, breath fanning across the back of your neck before his face was nuzzling there. "Got me worked up in public - I'm surprised I lasted that long." You laughed in return, your legs shaking slightly. "On the bed, pet. I don't want you off it for the next few days."

"Daemon," you whined when he pulled out of you suddenly, legs giving way with a small whoop of surprise.

"I got you," he rushed, catching your body; arms tight around your waist to gently pull you up with him. "Easy," he smirked, "if you're feeling it now, you're in for a long weekend, my dove."

"Gods," you laughed, pulling yourself onto the mattress. "You know, we're going to have to talk..." He sighed when you turned to face him, his fists propping him up on either side of your hips. "Can't just hump our way through this."

"We can't?"

"Daemon."

"I know," he sighed, dropping his forehead to the crook of your neck. "But what is there to say? Besides I am sorry..."

"I fear that if we leave, you will become distracted. My love, we do not have allies outside the Capital City, and I could not bare your same behavior in strange lands."

He sighed, pausing to pull back and pull the rest of his clothes off; stepping out of his boots, too, before reaching for you. He focused on pulling your dress and boots off, almost weakly palming your bare breast before speaking, "I have not been a very good husband, and I know that now, and I cannot apologize enough. But I can try to rectify the situation, and to do that, I suppose I could try harder to prove I love you."

"I know you do," you sighed, leaning back to your pillows, guiding him with you as you took under the covers. "But what happened to us?"

He sighed, deflating into the pillows beside you and pulling you into his chest. "In truth, pet... I fear it is me who is the problem of our infertility..."

"What?" You wondered, looking up at him, confusion knitting your brows together.

He sighed, "Ah, my dove... There are written accounts that sometimes, fertility issues do not fall upon the woman only. Sometimes... It can be the man who struggles to sire an heir."

"Oh," you breathed, pushing further into his embrace. "No, my love, I do not think it's you."

"No - "

"Love, look at me," you frowned, titling his head down towards you. "Sometimes, when a woman takes Moon Tea for an extended period of time, it can... I don't know, alter the state of her womb."

Daemon winced, "If I waited, you wouldn't ever have had need to take the tea..."

"Okay, are we going to go in circles about who's fault this is? Or accept it for reality?" You sighed. "What're we going to do if we don't have a family - and what if we do?"

"It's to be figured out as we go," he sighed against your forehead; cradling you closer. "I just want us gone from the City, my dove."

You sighed, "Then swear to me that you will not put me through this again."

"I'm going to show you I can be the man who deserves you," he swore, leaning in to nuzzle your nose. "No talk of dramatic means; I am yours, and you are mine."

"Would you be honest with me?"

"Of course."

"Have you been visiting the taverns and brothels?"

"Only the taverns," he frowned. "There's been many a night I find myself waking in the stable after drinking far too much."

"Ah, sweetheart..."

"I know," He groaned lightly, readjusting. "Come, nap with me."

You pouted lightly, "You don't want to fuck me again?"

His head, which was settling on your chest, shot up in shock as he eyed you almost wearily. "Really?"

"Mhm."

"Fuck," he whispered, leaning up to latch his mouth onto your own - leading into another frenzied baby-making session.

Months later, you had married both of your step-sons off, and within days, Daemon had approached you regarding your departure.

He made no move to explain to his family where he was heading, choosing to instead latch your shared belongings to Caraxes' saddle as if to just disappear. But as fate would have it, when you approached him with confidence to hand off the last of your rucksacks, you were startled when Caraxes swung his head around to look at you with a great, heaving, cocking-with-curiosity head.

"D-Daemon?" You worried, hands held up in defense as the dragon's muzzle neared you; giving a great heave against your stomach. "Daemon, what is happening? What's he doin', love? Oh, this feels strange, what do I do!?"

"It's all right, you're all right," Daemon soothed, coming behind you to pose as a backboard as the scaly beast nuzzled into you. The power behind the movements jostled you some, but against your husband's chest, you were better secured.

"What's he doing?" You wondered again with greater fear.

Daemon's hands moved to hold over your hips, peering over your shoulder to watch the great beast breath against your belly. "Dove?"

"Hmm?" Your hands were still held up in defense.

"Have you bled this month?"

You paused, glancing up at him slowly, "Not to my knowledge."

"Last month?"

"No... I don't think I remember my last cycle," you admitted, looking up at him with widened eyes. "Does this mean what I think?"

"He's protective of you," he pointed out, sighing after. "No use in getting our hopes up right now. You've been to the Maester, yes?"

"Yes," you nodded, Caraxes growling when Daemon tried to pull you back. "O-Oh, okay," you sighed, gently holding his head to placate the beast, "okay, all right. Shh, shh. Okay, there yah go."

Daemon finished tacking the saddle, watching the pair of you for a moment longer than he would've usually allowed. Something stirred in his gut, and for some reason, he pondered, "What if we left in the morning?"

"Daemon," you sighed, "a single night makes no difference. We want to cross the Sea before night fall, yes?"

He nodded, "One last night here..."

"What are you hoping to achieve?"

Daemon again neared you, glancing up at Caraxes, whilst the beast purred. "There is a feeling I cannot shake."

"What feeling?"

"That we are missing something."

"Not per se," you sighed, patting the underside of the dragon's chin. "What do you think we're missing, love?"

Your eyes closed when Daemon's forehead met your temple, a beat passing, before he admitted, "An egg..." His hand slid across your lower belly to cradle it, "for the babe?"

"Daemon, you just - I'm not - look," you sighed through your nose, feeling frustrated, "it's been over three years, and it's not happened. Perhaps we just let nature take course, yes? Stop trying so bloody hard?"

He sighed, dare you say it, sadly.

"Give us tonight... Let me search for any eggs Syrax might be hoarding..."

You sighed, shifting on your feet. "Everything's packed already."

"We'll make do for the night," he tried.

"If I agree, might I go nap? Or do you want me with you?"

"No, you go rest," he nodded, pressing a kiss to your temple. Yet when he let go, Caraxes whined and had to be held at bay while you made your way back to the Keep. Though, while Demon descended into the Dragon's Lair, you rushed for the Maester's chambers to pound rapidly.

"Princess!" He gasped when he opened the door to your tearful face.

"I-I need another test, Maester..."

"My Lady, it has been months since our last exam - "

"Hence why I need one now," you frowned, wiping your cheeks of tears. "Please."

"Of course, come in, come in," he ushered you, moving about his chambers to prepare his tools and herbs. You gave urine, blood, and spit; waiting impatiently as the Maester prodded around your stomach, ran his tests...

And by the end, he was blinking in near shock. "Well?" You demanded, exhausted by the long day of tests - but you knew Daemon would not be back for hours more.

How wrong you were - but first, the Maester turned with tears in his aged eyes. "M-My Princess... You are with child - without a doubt. I'd wager some eight or nine weeks in? Perhaps ten," he nodded, consulting his exam results. "Yes, just shy of three months, probably when we stopped our exams, yes, yes... Have you had symptoms?"

"I don't... Know?"

"All right," he sighed, "your blood?"

"I cannot remember my last cycle," you admitted with a nod.

"Hunger?"

"Some," you shrugged.

"Mood swings?"

"Well, perhaps no more than usual..."

"And have you any pain in your breasts?"

Sighing, you shrugged, "They are tender, yes, but that's not..."

"It is," he nodded softly. "But I'd wager you're ten weeks in, you'll start to notice your belly swelling soon."

You blinked a few times, "You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"I'm pregnant...?"

"You are."

"I'm gonna have a baby?"

"Finally," he teased gently, smiling brightly at you. "What joyous news, Princess."

"Well... I... I do not know what to say," you whispered, feeling panic swell in your chest. "M-Might you send for my handmaiden? H-Her name's Mary, please, Maester, I am feeling overwhelmed."

"Just breathe," he nodded, moving for the door to send for Mary. As you waited, he lead you through breathing exercises; trying to quell your worry before Mary was bursting through the door.

"What's this?" She worried, rushing forward.

"I-I am pregnant," you told her, taking her hands tightly, "an-and I fear I am panicking."

"Do you want me to get your husband?"

"He's in the Dragon's Lair."

"No? I swore I saw him making for your room," she cocked her head, squeezing your hands. "Why are you panicking?"

"B-Because I am not - I do not - for fuck's sake, I don't know in full, but I am scared."

"Of what - "

"Of the birth!" You yelped, tears filling your eyes. "My Gods, they whisper about the Targaryen Curse but I thought it was just me - and that I could not bare children. But now... Fuck's sake."

"Okay, breathe," the Grand Maester advised. "This stress is not good for the baby, you'll have to take that into account the next few months, as you grow the babe."

"Fuck's sake," you snapped as you wept, latching onto Mary as she shot a glare at the Maester.

"Yes, okay, thank you!" She snapped, waving him off. "My Lady, listen to me," she sighed softly, caressing you in comfort, "you are not of Targaryen blood, and that can yet work in your favor when carrying a Targaryen child. Ease your mind, my Lady, you are not doing yourself favors with this stress."

You tried to calm down, but she was still petting your hair as you wept. But then, something in your mind snapped in place, "D-Did you say you saw my husband?"

"Yes, on my way here," she nodded.

"All right," you sniffled and wiped your face, "I-I need to go to him."

"Go," she encouraged, "but allow me to be the first to say - holy fucking shit! You're pregnant! Oh, my Gods, I'm so happy for you! Congratulations!"

You giggled lightly and hugged her tightly, letting her yank you off the exam table to lightly hop around in an excited hug. "I am blessed," you whispered into the hug. "Thank you, my friend."

"Truly!" She squealed. "Oh, no, but does this mean you're still leaving?"

"Let's find out," you breathed, squeezing her hands and moving for the door after. She held your hand as you moved for your chambers, but before you got there, she let go and insisted you talk to your husband alone. With tears in your eyes, you pushed the door to your chambers open, calling, "Daemon?"

"Dove?" He answered from the chair resting at the table's edge, his wrist flourishing as he wrote on parchment, almost sighing with relief. "Where have you been?" He glanced at you. "Thought you were napping, and I come here, you're not in bed."

"I've been - "

"Never mind that! Why are you crying!? Who did it?" He demanded, jumping to his feet and trying to take your face in his hands.

"Why're your hands covered in ash?" You dodged, holding his wrists, easing him back into the chair. "Did you find an egg, my love?"

"I did," he breathed, grinning shyly.

"Good," you nodded while blinking rapidly down at him, gently caressing the side of his cheek to pull his gaze up to meet yours, "because it will lie in our child's crib, finally."

His gaze met yours slowly before realization coated his features, almost gaping at you, "Truly?"

"Daemon," you spoke slowly, taking either of his hands in your own to pull them to rest on your waist, "we're going to have a baby."

"You're pregnant?"

"I'd like to think we are, but yes, I am pregnant."

"Finally," he breathed, leaning forward to caress your stomach with a grin, laughing some after. "Oh, thank the Gods - well, no, thank you, my beautiful wife."

You smiled and caressed his head, keeping him close as he leaned back a little; arms tight round you, legs spreading, and keeping you set between them. He sighed deeply, nuzzling your belly.

"A blessing, is it not?"

"It is," you whispered, petting down his neck. "See what happens when we don't try so hard?"

He chuckled, his breath felt across your lower tummy. "Oh, my sweet wife... How I celebrate you."

"How I celebrate us," you smirked.

He gave a gentle nibble to your belly before lifting his gaze; chin laid to your stomach with his arms tightly around your hips to keep you in place. "I love you, thank you for this. I-I don't know what else to say."

"We've a long way to go, you might not be thanking me yet," you chuckled nervously, but Daemon saw through you. He sighed and leaned back more, guiding you to his lap to sit.

"What is it, sweet girl? Hmm? What's on your pretty little mind?"

You frowned a bit, leaning into his shoulder to caress his cheek and jaw; lowering your voice to mumble into his skin, "I am afraid."

"Of?"

"The birthing..."

"Ah," he sighed, tightening his hold on you. "I see... I will ensure the best midwives and Maesters are at your chambers."

"I need only one promise from you."

"You need only ask it."

"You'll be there with me. In the room, even. You will not leave me to do this alone..."

Daemon tightened his grip on you, pressing a kiss to the column of your neck. "You will not be alone, pet. Never in this. I am here with you, and I will be here until the end. You will not be apart from me, and I will not leave you alone in this."

"Thank you," you whispered, holding onto him tightly. He sighed lightly, nuzzling into your neck as tears surfaced. "I'm scared, Daemon."

"I've got you," he assured, tightening his hold. "You're not alone, dove. Not now or ever, I'm so sorry, pet, for how I was before. But it's gonna be different," he whispered, kissing at your jaw after, "I do swear this to you, my sweet wife, 's all gonna be so different."

You nodded, petting through his hair, "All right... All right, so, how about we go share the good news? Have one last dinner with family? And in the morning, we make for Pentos? Or Essos?"

He smirked, "It's a surprise first."

You sighed lightly, "Of course it is. What do you say?"

He sighed, nodding mutely. "A fantastic idea, dove, but let me bask in this moment first." Readjusting in his lap, you easily curled under his chin and let your eyes close. "I love you."

With a smile matching his, you swore, "I love you, too."

🍒 fin

Midnight Calls masterlist

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

[admrlthundrbolt]

Radioactive (Furiosa x Chubby Reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Being the daughter of Immortan Joe was never the paradise others thought. Though taking care of the wives made it a bit less lonely. Especially when a visit from Furiosa was never to far away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey guys, I'm back at it again. With the resent commercials for Furiosa, it reminded me of how much I love her character. So here's a bit of women loving and supporting women. Hope you enjoy.

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

Immortan Joe was an evil man. He capitalized on others' torment. A wretch of a human being that believes himself to be a God. His kingdom was built on suffering and the bodies of the unfortunate.

To think that he could have sired you. The only female of his spawn. The singular child to be born in good health. Something to parade around as a symbol, that a healthy male heir could be achieved. You were a spark of hope for him. While you despised his very existence.

A solitary reprieve you did receive was being a care taker for his wives. Though you cringed at the thought of what they went through. You took solace in knowing that you did your best to make their lives a bit better. Even sharing the burden of a chastity belt. Another ‘gift’ of your father's. For you must stay pure and a true embodiment for the citizens. Just another way to keep you under his thumb.

Though you could not have been farther from him in mannerisms. You soft sweet nature was one that could rival a Saint. Soft skin and full figured, you were made to sire healthy offspring. You were to stay with the women. Keep away from the men, only to be brought out in watering ceremonies. You were a goddess of life. Even if you wish to stay to your duties and be left alone.

That was, until Furiosa came along.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Torn from her home and forced into servitude. It was an existence that she held the upmost animosity for. It may not have been Immortan Joe that stole her away from her people. But that didn't make him anymore innocent. He was a vile man, who kept around the useful. Seeking out the weak and preying on the niave.

It wasn't an honor to be an officer in his army. To work under him and bring glory, it made her sick. To know she was providing for a villain like him.

Her only solace came in being your guard. You were the only good thing to come from a beast such as him. The breaks she had between runs were spent in your company. Being assigned to you was one of the best days of her life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were helping Toast wrap her chest when Miss Giddy rushed over to you. “It is time for the water ceremony.”

Rolling your eyes, you finished the intricate knot on her top. Getting up, you apologized to the women. Though they answered with understanding smiles and shooing motions. If there was anyone else who knew just how angry your father got when he was kept waiting. It was the group of women that were expected to carry his brood.

Before leaving the room, you slipped into your chastity belt. Miss Giddy glared at the thing as she locked it. “Those things are inhumane. To think he even forces one on his own daughter.”

You placed a soothing hand on her arm. Knowing how heated she could get over such things. “It is what I must do. We all must make sacrifices for the greater good.” Feeling her tense up, you were quick to let the truth slip free. Turning to look her in the eye, you said. “Things will not always be this way. I feel that change will happen soon.”

Her gaze softened and muscles lost some of their tension. Leading you to the overlook, she passed you to your brother Rictus. Placing a hand on your back, he guided you to stand next to your father.

Nodding at you he began his speech. It was a way to inflate his ego. But the unfortunate people who had no choice at least got the reward of water by the end. He motioned you forward as he finished. Moving up, you released the dams. He always said it was a great honor for you to give them the life force.

As he slammed the levers back down you wanted to flinch. It made you feel helpless, sick to your stomach. As you give them hope, he was one step behind to stomp it out.

With the ceremony over, you stepped into the hall. You would rather wait in the shadows for your escort to return.

A hand brushed against your arm. Jumping a bit, your eyes darted towards the touch. It was a War Boy you had passed from time to time. “Sorry (Y/N), didn't mean to scare you.” He looked so regretful.

A reassuring smile slid onto your face. “It's fine.” Placing a hand on his shoulder, you gave him a soft pat. “What can I do for you?”

He face colored immediately, blushing from ear to ear. He stuttered for a few moments before gathering himself. “I've just never had the chance to speak to you.” Wringing his hands together, his eyes darted between you and the floor. “I wanted to introduce myself. I'm Slit.”

Suddenly the sound of harsh breathing appeared in the doorway. Your father stood, glaring at scene before him. How dare this mutt speak to his daughter. “(Y/N), why have you not returned to the vault.”

You forced a sweet smile at your father. You needed to get his attention away from the War Boy. You didn't need more blood on your hands. “I'm not sure father. I was waiting for Miss Giddy to return. Perhaps she is looking after one of the wives.”

At the mention of his brides, he forgot about the boy. For a bit at least. “I will take you back and check myself. I must keep what belongs to me safe.”

As he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You couldn't help the foreboding cold sweat that settled over your. You had to keep a shudder in check as he lead you back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't long before your father summons you again. Which was odd, they're shouldn't be another ceremony for a while. Miss Giddy brought you to his private chambers. Making your way in, you reluctantly bowed your head.

He barley spared you a glance. “I've noticed the War Boys have been paying you more attention. That is a troubling revelation. You will now be escorted by my most trusted officer. She will start her duties with you tomorrow. You are not to leave without her. You will be assigned a new guide if she is otherwise disposed. Am I understood.” It was a demand, not a suggestion.

Nodding dutifully, you shrank into yourself a bit more. “Yes sir. What time should I expect them?”

“Furiosa will be by in the afternoon. I need to explain her new task. But I expect you to be ready well before then.” He waved his hand at you dismissively.

Leaving quickly, you met up with Miss Giddy in the hall. You had been thankful that she had a valid reason to not have waited for you previously. Though having the Furiosa be your new bodyguard was enough to make your head spin. She was the only woman to make it to the level of officer in Immortan Joe's army. To think that someone so impressive would be standing by your side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She wasn't sure how to feel at this time. Having another task forced upon her was enraging. Being the foot soldier of a mad man was an ordeal in itself. To be required to babysit his daughter in her small amount of free time. Well that was a new level of lap dog that she wasn't looking forward to.

Still, she couldn't help but remember how highly others spoke of you. You were the bringer of life and hope. A symbol of a fruitful future. She would have to wait until meeting you to see for herself just who you were.

Taking a deep breath she knocked on the vault door. It swung open slowly and she was thankful for filling her lungs. As you came into veiw she was rendered breathless. You were a vision of plush radiance. She had never seen a more perfect being.

Seeing the officer, you became as giddy as a War Boy with his first rig. She was taller than you imagined, rugged and beautiful all at once. Gesturing into the room, you greeted her warmly. “Please make yourself at home. It may well be where you spend much of your time now."

She wanted to feel bitter about the statement. But with how invitingly you put it, it was hard to not look forward to it. Taking a seat on a nearby stool, she nodded. “Thank you.”

Pulling a large cushion over, you plopped down next to her. “I do not deserve your thanks. I'm the reason you will have little to no free time. I'm sorry my father stuck you with me.”

“It's nothing to apologize for.” She waved away the idea with her mechanical hand. Your eyes widened as you took in the intricacies.

“Did you build it?” She looked away for a moment before nodding. Hovering your hand near it, you looked up at her. “May I?” Nodding again, she watched your soft fingers delicately trace over every bump and groove. You were entraced with the mechanisms. She had never felt prouder of her handy work.

“I could make you something. It wouldn't be an arm, but it could be mechanical.” Your eyes shown brightly as you nodded vigorous at the offer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spending time with Furiosa was always a pleasure. You had grown close with each other. But there was one subject you both tip toed around, your father. You were wary of speaking poorly of him in front of anyone outside of the vault. It was something that was beaten into you at an early age. Still there was something about the way she held her tounge in certain moments. It made you believe that your thoughts could be more similar than many others.

You weren't going to breech the subject. Until the wives came to you in a bought of desperation. Angharad was growing rounder with his spawn. “I implore you to just speak with her. She may be our only hope.” Taking your hands in her own, she wept. “All of us, sister.”

Squeezing her hands you frowned. The truth was laid bare before you. But would she be willing to sacrifice for women she barely knew. You could feel your heart sting with the thought of her rejection. Nodding silently, you took her into your arms. Even if it destroyed you, you would save your sisters. You hoped that she would feel the same.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was surprised when you didn't meet her at the door. Then she became frustrated with herself. Of course someone like you would have better things to do than greet her.

The Dag smiled knowingly at the officer. She had seen the way you gazed at one another. Immortan Joe had only handed you a partner on a silver platter. “She is gathering her things.”

Nodding, she stood near the door and tried not to fidget. As you emerged she gave you an unintentional look over. You were swathed in a gossamer robe and held a small basket at your side. She swept forward to take it from you. But you waved her away and smiled coyly. She was surprised when you didn't wait for Miss Giddy. She wanted to spit in the face of your father for making anyone wear those abominations. Especially forcing one on his own daughter. It was one of the few moments she was thankful for being barren.

Following close behind you, she was soon brought to an isolated cavern. It was empty, except for the sunken pool in the middle of the room. You set the basket near the pool and let the robe slip from your luscious body. If she was enamored with the sight of you a moment ago, then she was enraptured now. Stepping into the pool, you emerged yourself. She stepped forward when you didn't immediately resurface. As you breached the surface, she took another unconscious step.

You beckoned her closer. “Join me."

That snapped her from her trance. Shaking her head, she said. “I couldn't….”

Your eyes became half lidded as you folded your arms on the side of the pool. “You could, it would be a favor to me. Your ward."

Her eyes narrowed at that. “You are much more than that.”

Expression softening, you held a hand out to her. “If you are not comfortable bathing with me, I understand. Would you not sit by the water's edge and converse with me?”

She wanted to throttle herself. Here you were, like a literal wet dream in front of her. Still there was a part of her holding back and for good reason. It wouldn't do her any good trust the wrong person, not again. Nodding stiffly, she lowered herself near you.

Wadding over to the basket, pulling bottles and jars from it. Plucking a slim jar from the bunch, you returned to her. “Would you mind washing my hair?” A quick nod followed by you offering the container. Dipping your head under the water once more, you sighed. Facing away from her, you leaned back towards her. Heart hammering, she spread the liquid around her palms. The intimacy of bathing another was not lost on either of you. Still she massaged and threaded her fingers through your locks. Sinking a bit more into the water, you wanted to melt into the depths below. It was a lovely sensation, to have one you admire treat you so delicately. But there was a matter more dire than your fantasy.

“I need your help. The wives need to escape.” You yelped as her fingers jerked in your hair. You whirled to plead with her, thinking that she was against the idea. Her expression wasn't that of rage though, but bewildered curiosity. So you continued, hoping your hunch was right. “They are treated as nothing but prized breeders. I am disgusted with the way my father considers them possessions. Everyday Angharad grows closer to birthing his spawn. This is no place to raise a child.” Your eyes were wet with tears as you explain their plight.

Her stomach bubbled with hatred. For your father, who was responsible for so much suffering. For herself, to believe for even a moment that you would side with that monster. And for you, you begged for the wives. But he was doing the same to you. Even parading you around to prove he was capable of making something amazing. Really though, you were the one that had created that shine in yourself.

Lunging forward, she captured your lips with her own. Water splashed as she slid into the pool to press your bodies flush. Running your hands up her back, you pulled her closer. Trying to meld yourselves together. Pulling apart, panting desperately, you looked up at her blisteringly.

“We will travel to the Green Place.” Then she thrust her mouth at yours once more. You graciously followed her motions and enjoyed yourself thoroughly. If the Green Place was where she thought you should go, then you would trust her. You would follow anywhere she would take you.

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Promises 1: Introduction

Dark!Morpheus x (female)reader, fantasy/medieval AU, 18+

Master List

Dream of the Endless has been promised a bride.

This is in a different style than the rest of the story, so it gets its own post. Brace for all the yummy, darker tropes, bards' shenanigans, and eventual smut. Hoping to post updates quickly (like every other day) between all my other projects, and your support means the world!

Introduction

The king of Meiren found himself as part of a tale. Unfortunate for him. Amusing for Dream of the Endless.

Ten years past, the king summoned him to beg a favor.

“I’ve been dreaming of the most beautiful woman.” Obsession flamed in the mortal’s eyes, brighter than the reflection of the single candle stood between them. “I’ve searched, but I fear she is not of this realm, and I will not take any other as queen.”

The king’s distress smelled of Desire’s work, some perfumed horror to break a nation over brief carnal pleasures. Or perhaps a faerie game, wicked and senseless beyond a moment’s amusement. Passing, paltry things that may become histories and novels in his library, but no business of his. He would not have helped if not for what the king offered in return.

“If you help me find this woman and take her to wife, I will return an equal boon.”

He spoke earnestly, but Dream turned away his desperation with a smirk and a slow shake of his head. “What boon might you offer one such as I? I have no need of your gold, your land, or your kingly permissions.”

The next words began the story and sealed the little king’s fate.

“A bride of your own. I would gather the fairest, brightest, noblest from my kingdom from which you might choose.”

Vague amusement soured into offense, and his smirk twisted into a sneer. He dared? Truly?

Dream peered down his nose at the man. What could this hungry dreamer know of love? “Tell me, then, what creature in your kingdom might be my equal when none are good enough even to be your consort?”

The king had no good answers, only selfish dreams and childish demands. Groveling, he asked, “Will you not help me, then?”

But it was too late, and Dream was invested in this fool’s demise. After all, finding the woman of his dreams would not make him happy. Morpheus was certain of that. And the king would fail to keep his end of the bargain. He was certain of that, too. It wasn’t the first time he’d become a character in a tale, and he wanted justice for the scratches on his withered heart, for all they were left unknowingly.

One who dared offer the impossible to an Endless should reap their worthy prizes.

“I will help you.”

The king opened his mouth to thank him, but Dream hadn’t finished.

“I will come at a time of my choosing, and you will assemble those promised. If I do not find one that pleases me, I will take recourse in any manner I please.”

He didn’t even leave the king the promise of fair or equal retribution. When he was disappointed, he would please to be merciless indeed. But the king was a fool and did not listen well. He accepted. Eagerly.

The king had his bride – a faerie who he wed, bed, and conceived an heir upon. But on the child’s seventh birthday, he and his mother both disappeared on a ride through the morning fog. Brokenhearted, he could not bring himself to marry again, and he spent more time pitying his fate than managing his lands. He wasted his youth, his love, and his legacy for a dream.

And now it was the king’s turn to make good on his promise.

The invitations were sent, summoning the young, the talented, and the beautiful to court. The castle staff prepared to host the horde of eligibles and the Endless the king hoped to please for seven days, at the end of which the King of Dreams would make his choice or exact his vengeance.

[staytinyville]

Seonghwa

PLEASE REFER TO MASTERLIST TO GET FULL TAROT READING EXPERIENCE

↣ Summary: After you hear that your father has appointed you to be his heir, you question yourself if you are ready for it. Seonghwa is your long term friend and future advisor, who tell you what you need to hear.

↣ Characters/Pairing: Park Seonghwa x gn!Reader

↣ Genre: Fluff, Historical Fiction, 

↣ AU/Trope info: Game of Thrones!au, royalty!au, historical!au

↣ Word Count: 1.5k

↣ Warnings: None

↣ A/N: All I saw while writing this was House of Dragon. But I won’t add the dragons here. But I can only imagine Seonghwa as a Targaryen. OOO, on a black dragon with red eyes. AHH! Ateez needs a house of dragon!au.

THE EMPEROR

Authority, Establishment, Structure, a Father Figure

You are taking on a fatherly role (even if you are a male or female). The place you are currently at is a role that is meant for you to take the lead in situations that call for advice. You are the patriarch of the group that makes people feel secure.

You are someone who claims respect and authority towards their followers. You are seen as a leader who is just, and people will like when you are in those kinds of positions and know how to handle what people want and how to get what people need. Not only that, but you are fair in your leadership and give everyone equal chances. 

You know a lot about what you are doing and how to do it. You might have enough experience in the area and if not you are very knowledgeable in it. Because of this, you are seen as someone people look up to often when it comes to certain things.

IV THE EMPEROR

You sat with your back straight as the master read out some testaments your father already had written. While he was only in the room next door, still resting, he decided it would be best to leave a will before his passing. That way his children wouldn’t fight over what would happen to the kingdom without his true word. 

“Your father has asked (Y/N) to be named his successor once he passes.” Your head snapped up, looking between your other siblings. 

Your brother’s eyebrows raised, looking over at you in astonishment, and your sister pursed their lips in order not to say anything. Each of them didn’t dare to make a scene or argue over your father’s decision. However, you were beyond confused. 

“What?” You asked, eyes wide. “Are you sure?” You told the master pointedly. 

“That is what his majesty has requested.” The man told you softly. 

“Is he well to take visitors at the moment?” You stood up from the chair, causing all your siblings to look at you oddly. 

The old man looked at your worried expression, sighing to himself. Everyone knew how you were as a person. If you had questions, you were going to find a way to get the answers. 

“Only for a moment.” He told you. 

You both walked over to your father’s chambers, the man sitting up in bed as he swatted at one of his nurses for trying to force him to drink his tea. Your shoulders dropped at how pale he looked. His skin was sweaty and he seemed to hack after each breath he took. 

“Father.” You called softly, giving him a small smile as you grew closer. 

“Hello, Dear.” He squinted his eyes for a moment, pausing to take a look at who he was speaking to. 

“It's (Y/N).” You told him, kneeling down at his bedside. 

“Ah, my little (Y/N).” He smiled, moving to try to pinch at your cheek, but all it felt like was a grab with the little strength he had. “You have grown so big. What are they feeding you?” He asked. 

“The same as you.” You chuckled. 

“I do hope it's not that nasty tea.” He whispered to you. 

“Of course not.” You laughed, giving the nurse on the other side of the bed a smile. She rolled her eyes playfully, turning around with the cup of tea, realizing he wasn’t going to be taking it.

You sighed as you turned back to your father, trying to determine if he was good enough to speak to you on the matter of the throne. 

“Father, I've come to ask.” You started, taking a hold of his hand. “Are you sure you want me to be your heir?”

“My heir?” He immediately frowned, looking at you oddly. “I'm dying?” He questioned himself. Just as he did, he began to cough violently, gripping onto his chest as it began to hurt. “Yes, there it is.” He tried to laugh, but it sounded like more coughs. 

Once he seemed to have calmed down, he turned back to you with a soft smile. “I've had you as my named heir for ages.” He said. “Ever since Seonghwa came to me to tell me all about the time you led an army into war with invaders.” 

A smile overtook your face at the mention of your oldest friend and advisor. He had been there for as long as you could remember, always keeping you from trouble and being the one to get you out of it. Everyone always loved him–he was a people person. You worried about the day someone would come to take him from you, but to this day he always told you that you were the first person in life. 

“You've always been so kind, too. You know more than you care to admit.” Your father continued. “Seonghwa knows it too.”

You chuckled, squeezing his hand as you knew what he meant. “Where is that boy? I need to see my son-in-law.” Your father looked around the room, waiting for the man to pop out. 

“Son-in-law?” You immediately said, looking at him confused. 

“Aren't you two married?” He asked you.

“No, father, I'm not married.” You shook your head. 

“I'm going to miss the wedding!?” He shouted, causing you to flinch. 

You had been the youngest of five children–which is why it was a shock to learn that you had been named heir. Your sisters had been betrothed and your brothers had settled down. One of them already had three kids. And for each of their weddings, your father had been there; to walk them down the step. 

However, you knew that compared to all of them, you had been the closest to the king. It wasn’t because you were the baby of the family. If anything, being the baby only meant that sometimes he wasn’t able to play with you the way he played with your siblings when they were children. 

Instead, you would ask if you could sit with him during council meetings or have him read a story to you. You had always found the things that made a kingdom fascinating. So you took it upon yourself to follow your father around whenever the chance was given. It was how you knew so much about being a king. At least that was what you told yourself. 

Seonghwa was someone you loved with all your heart. And it wasn’t uncommon for you to think about him in a different way that wasn’t just friends. He was the person you could count on–the one you could tell all your problems to. 

Your shoulders dropped as you looked at your pale father. There was only so much time he had left and you wanted to make sure he saw all that he could possibly want. 

“Is that what you want?” You asked him.

“All my heart could ever need.”

You stood in front of the mirror stationed in your room. Your maids had finished dressing you in your attire, making sure everything was suited to your needs. Your hands smoothed down any wrinkles you saw–which were none, but your anxiousness seemed to make you think differently. 

While normal people would find themselves nervous for something as big as their wedding, the only thing you could possibly think of was how you would become named heir to the whole kingdom after. 

“Am I really ready for this?” You spoke out loud, turning around to face your advisor and future husband. 

Seonghwa was messing with the sleeves of his suit, looking up at you when you spoke. “Do you want my advice as your advisor or as your friend?” He asked you.

“Give me both.” You told him. 

“You're immature and a nuisance to everyone who is in your close vicinity.” He told you without so much as pause. 

“Seonghwa!” You gasped out, swatting at his arm. 

“As your advisor,” He continued. “You care a lot about your people and have seen plenty of politics to know how to rule.”

“The people love you and are willing to give you their respect. You will be an amazing ruler for the people.” He told you. 

“I grew up with you. I've seen you do the stupidest of things that would jeopardize your health—but I have also seen you give up so much in order to keep the kingdom alive. You have seen many things in your lifetime which have given you the knowledge needed to become king.” He grew closer to you, placing his hand on your cheek as his thumb rubbed over it. 

“As your oldest friend, I love all those things about you. You are someone truly remarkable.” He whispered. 

It was only a few days ago that you had asked for Seonghwa’s hand in marriage. The boy had looked at you oddly for a moment, but when you explained why, he understood. The only thing he said after that was that you seemed to have jumped ahead a lot of steps. He wanted to court you first, but it seemed that had to be skipped over now that you were going to be named heir. 

“And your advice as my husband?” You gave him a teasing grin. 

“I do hope you're prepared for later tonight.” 

Your eyes went wide as you went to punch his arm this time. 

The man gasped out and rubbed at the sore spot, pouting. “This is why you led an army.” He whined. “You hit like a barbarian.”

“We trained together.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, but you always tried harder. Try hard.” He teased you. 

You raised your hands again, lightly slapping at him. He moved his own arms to swat back, trying to playfully fight back. “No! No abuse!” He said, quickly grabbing your hands and holding them away from him.

He grinned at you, leaning his forehead against yours. “I'll be waiting for you.” He whispered, breath hitting your lips.

“I love you.” You told him.

“I know.”

Tags : @cultofdionysusnet , @wonderlandnet , @pirateeznet , @k-vanity

[thesamoanqueen]

Typa Girl

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: SMUT; Oral sex (female receiving); Spank kink; Hair pulling; errors after errors after errors after errors after errors...

A/N: I missed an appointment last week, but I wrote more than usual... requested by @nayys-world , Roman coming out of the shower with a low towel on his hips, a great classic (set in Riyadh). Hope you like it sis~

With the sound of the shower tapping on the marble, he paused to watch the city slowly awaken with him, the silhouette of the stadium in the distance and the sandy haze clouding what lay beyond. There was a strange light, a play of colors that became brighter with each passing minute and was reflected on the white surfaces of the bathroom. He leaned his head against the wall and stood there for a while, with his eyes closed, the water running hot on his skin and sticking his hair to his forehead. After a plane ride like that and a busy evening like the previous one, it took more than a couple of hours of sleep - less than it could have been - but the shower was slowly doing its job and Roman took advantage without haste, enjoying that morning break that was often denied him.

He had interviews to do, people to hear and see, Paul would join him at lunchtime with the jet and then there would be training inside the stadium. The ring had to be checked and he already knew that in the end he would have to change in a hurry, to attend some dinner with a dozen wealthy Arab heirs who would nod to his answers with the same expression as a group of Kentucky Derby gamblers. He was used to that attitude, he didnt blame them, on the other hand the competition in which he would take part had as its first and main purpose that, to give those people one more reason to continue to shell out exorbitant sums to see them and to see him, to the joy of the executives and his bank account, they were willing to bring out surreal sum. But before his bustling PPV routine began, Roman had an empty couple of hours and was more than willing to take advantage of them.

He ran a hand over his face, the damp air from the shower smelled of lotions he had used to wash himself and his muscles had finally relaxed thanks to the warmth of the water. He enjoyed that sensation for a few more minutes, before reaching the sink and retrieving a towel to wrap around his hips. The fabric was soft against the skin and Roman took another one to pat his hair, passing it after he finished, on the huge mirror with golden edges that replicated his figure. He smoothed a little of the beard that had grown on the sides of his face, tied his hair and opened the bathroom door again. The blinding light of the city hit him in full, unexpected and brilliant, filtering through the huge windows that had been darkened for the night when he woke up.

He had left them closed before going to the bathroom, to allow her to sleep more, which only meant one thing...

He turned to look at the bed, the sheets were unmade, the pillows where shouldn't have been. The clothes from the previous night were still lying on the armchair, a pair of hotel slippers had ended up under the small table with the flowers. But Y/N wasn't there.

Just the idea that she had slipped away while he was taking a shower, gathering her things as if she had been in any dude’s room for a one night stand, made him mad. He hated the idea of not having her for himself at all times and more time passed, more they continued, more difficult it became for him to hold back, but he could do nothing at that point. With the mood already mounting, he wrinkled his nose and ran a hand over his face in an attempt to physically get rid of that feeling, a useless operation that was better managed by the noises coming from the living room of the suite. They were muffled and Roman, looked distractedly at the alarm, perhaps the reception had sent someone to anticipate him in his requests... not intending to get dressed early, he reached the threshold with a distracted look, ready to send away anyone who had entered, but he stopped abruptly as his eyes spotted a familiar figure.

He would have recognized those legs anywhere and from every angle.

On her stomach, with her bare calves swaying distractedly in the air, Y/N had taken possession of one of the couch, his Ipad in her hands and a bowl of fruit beside her. She had tied her unmade hair into a ponytail and a sudden, pleased smile appeared on Roman's face as he recognized one of his shirts on her. It was too big, one of those Bloodline merchandise the federation sent him every day to drive sales, but it fit her and it was his.

He had tried to slow down, hold back and keep that an occasional affair, but Y/N made it impossible for him and that, that moment, was all he wanted now. He wanted her with him, day and night, he wanted to be able to reach out and touch her knowing he didn't even have to look for her, he wanted to fall asleep without the thought of knowing where she was - or with who -, he wanted her for himself, with him.

An amused breath escaped his mouth, seeing her move on the couch just enough to unintentionally uncover a portion of her beautiful ass and the sight of her lacy blue lingerie was enough to make him snap.

- Y’ready for another three-star match, Tribal Chief? - Y/N greeted him, without even turning around, while Roman sat down next to her.

- Three? - he asked, not so interested. One arm on the cream-colored backrest and his other hand stroking her leg.

- Dave doesn’t like it, I guess ... - she mulled distractedly, scrolling through news after news with her fingers.

That was not the news of the day, but the routine. The only news around was her, still in his room and without the apparent intention of leaving.

- Dave doesn't like a lot of things he watches - he commented distractedly, as Y/N turned over on the couch, the screen still in front of her face.

- Hum… - she nodded - Few moves, trivial and badly dones. I’ve heard these things before.

- Is not about the moves, its the outcome.

- You might try something different? - she tried, letting go of the iPad to look at him.

A hand to caress the soft skin of her thigh, Roman already had his eyes on her, he had them since he crossed the threshold and he would not take them off her for the next three hours, even at cost of forcing her to stay. He saw her look at him quickly, her eyes wandering over his bare chest and slowing down for a moment on the towel he had tied to his hips and which, due to the movements of her legs, had slipped lower than it should, before climbing up to his face.

She was a fucking delight, he would have eaten her alive.

- Like you with my T? - he asked in a low tone, feeling the consistency of her thighs and her withdraw them slightly, her expression wavering just for a second before attacking.

- I heard the door open, I didn't know was already morning

He would have preferred to hear her say that she wanted something of him, but Y/N was not that kind of woman, she would never have given him the satisfaction of admitting that and it was true, in the hotels of that country he had never bothered to pick up the phone to make half a request.

- There's no one now and you 've still got too many clothes on - he complained, looking down at what she was denying him.

- Do you want your T back? - Y/N teased him instead, tugging on the shirt little and Roman rocked back his head, grabbing her ankle to pull her closer.

- Im not talkin about the T.

- I have nothing else.

- Spread those legs babygirl - he ordered, seeing her plant her eyes on him, her breath blocked.

The way she could speed him up in seconds was dangerous and even more dangerous that she could keep up with him smoothly. He had been with enough women to recognize in most cases who was in front of him, but Y/N... Y/N was another category. She was an assault platoon alone and she gave him yet another confirmation, when rather than go along with him she thought it best to raise her legs. She was able to go from rolling around with a tablet on the couch, chatting about comments and statements, to taking off her lingerie on her own and even putting on a show.

He watched her take it off her tiptoe, abandoning it in the chair along with the iPad still open on the umpteenth idiocy about him. Her center, soft and already wet, in full view and Roman licked his lips, passing an arm under her back to lift her towards him without waiting for anything else.

He liked that stuff, he'd always been looking for someone who wasn't just a faded memory or not, but with her, he touched another level. He had been hanging in the balance for too long and when they finally crossed the line, it felt like drinking after a thirsty life. There was nothing else capable of attracting his attention like she did, nothing that catalyzed his thoughts to the point of becoming an obsession, nothing that could turn his stomach and excite him like seeing her ready for him.

His body seemed to charge just by touching her and the sound of her moans was all he wanted to hear for the rest of his days.

- No commitments today? - Y/N asked, while Roman placed her legs on his shoulders, a hand firmly under her buttocks and the beard that was already rubbing on the skin of her thighs.

- This my only commitment - he roared in response, two fingers making their way inside her, pushing her to arch her back with a moan - what's wrong, babygirl? Tough you liked teasing.

She made him feel powerful the way her body reacted to his attentions and he wanted more, he wanted it all.

He twisted his wrist to explore better her insides, her walls embracing his fingers and he bent one over, touching her sweet spot and placing his thumb on her clit. Avoided applying pressure, enjoying her hot breath and the wet sound her pussy made with every movement, even the most subtle. Slowly, he slipped in another finger, spreading her wide enough to make her groan and an amused smile twisted his mouth as he watched her writhe for something more.

- Roman... - he heard her complain, her hips spinning.

- Hm? - a kiss and another on her legs.

- Faster.

- Always so needy, im trying to be a gentlemen - he laughed, pulling out his fingers and Y/N gave him a look, her foot pressing on his shoulder blades to keep him closer.

- N-not when im naked.

He knew what she liked and was always more than happy to please her, but not doing it was part of the game and having control over her was something he didn't want to give up. She could carry on with that attitude as long as she wanted, but in the end she would not be able to put two words in a row and the very thought of it made his cock throb, causing him to lower between her legs with his forehead frowned.

- Ssh, let me do my work babygirl - he inspired, her scent was intoxicating and he found himself closing his eyes, the warmth of her body surrounding him.

He rubbed his nose against her, breathing deeply and gave a long lick, feeling her vibrate against his tongue. Her moods were fucking sweet and a smug growl escaped his chest as he stretched his mouth wide to suck her soft lips, throbbing flesh. Y/N moaned, her back lifted under his big arm, her legs tightening her grip, trying to get him closer and Roman squeezed, hand planted on her soft buttock. He wrapped his tongue around her button, moving it from side to side, amid Y/N's muffled moans and twisted his head, digging his tongue into her moist slit to collect her moisture. Her folds were soft, throbbing and he flattened his tongue, tasting without haste, his mouth already kneaded with her juices that slowly began to mix with his saliva, sliding on his beard.

- R-ro! F-fuck! M-more… - Y/N whimpered and her fingers tightened in his hair, trying to grab what she could.

- Mmh… you taste like a fuckin candy - he growled, licking his mouth to return to devote himself to her.

Her nails were pulling out his bun one black strand at a time and with her knees pressed behind his head, he had little leeway, but he didn't care. All that mattered at that moment were the muffled moans of her body and the hunger that was building up in his stomach, one lick after another. He sucked hard, holding one of her lips between teeth and forcefully insinuated a finger, gathering what he could before cleaning it with a sound of approval. A sticky trail remained on the side of his hand and he looked up at Y/N, with one hand on her breast wrapped around his shirt, looking at him out of breath and with wet eyes.

He would have ruined her for himself and for no one else.

- R-Roma-ahn! - he almost heard her scream, remaining only with her shoulders resting, when he pinched her bundle of nerves and then stroked it with his thumb.

- Are you ok, babygirl? - his voice hoarse for her and two fingers crawling inside, pumping slowly up to his knuckles -… is this pace good enough? - he inquired, rubbing her thighs with his wet beard.

Y/N shook fast her head, her belly contracted and a lip between her teeth. He slowed down again, just touching her with his tongue to collect the liquid that was dripping on his wrist and she closed her eyes, a moan and another, making his cock throb. It was hard, his tip was now rubbing against the towel almost painfully, but it wasn't time yet, not yet. So he also deprived her of his fingers and for a second he watched in raptures at the show of her moist center huddling around nothing, before licking again, outside and then inside, again and again.

- S-Stop it! - Y/N wriggled into his arms, her hands planted against Roman’s head to push him away.

- Be still... - he warned her, widening his mouth to suck her as much as he could.

But it wasn't enough, he knew it and he felt it from the way Y/N's body was now writhing, her orgasm slowly mounting, burning her without making her explode.

- Lemme g-go-! Ro, n-no! - she protested in a broken voice, legs trembling.

Roman gave no sign of having heard it, securing her against his bare chest with downcast eyes.

- R-Romahn… ah, s-sto-stop! N-no like th– she squeaked, pushing, but to get enough pressure she would have to hold the position and her body was out of control.

He licked again, deep, feeling her burn and throb around his tongue. A streak of humor dripped onto his chest, watering onto the stretched tablecloth that was now forcing him and Roman felt something else dripping onto his testicles for the pleasure, accompanied by a hoarse moan.

He could have gone on for the rest of the day, just to have that, to feel her shaking from his attentions, but her walls were throbbing uncontrollably, she was on the verge of orgasm and so he stopped, suddenly, without warning, letting her fall back on the couch. He watched her gasp with her eyes closed, face contracted, her forehead sweaty and he ran a hand over his boner, without discretion or calm, relieving the throbbing of his tense flesh for a second. He shook his head from side to side, hungry and stood up, grabbing her weight to lift her, while Y/N opened her eyes again.

- Whatcha d-doing? - she asked bewildered, feeling herself carried away to the table.

Someone from the hotel had made it for breakfast, but that wasn't what he wanted to use it for, not at the moment. He held her tightly, her back pressed against his side and with one hand he made space between plates, glasses and the selection of preferences they had been made available to him. Y/N continued to watch him in silence at work, her hands clasped on his muscular arm that held her until he undressed one side of the table and pulled her away from him, giving her a slap on the ass that made her jump.

- Bend over - he ordered and Y/N looked him over her shoulder, her expression amazed.

He hadn't really hit her, but it was new and judging from her face, it couldn't have happened many times in her past. Maybe never?

- Dont give me that look. Bend over, im not kidding - he repeated impassively, hitting in the same spot with a little bit more force.

Y/N jumped again, but her hands still landed on the table. Roman watched her bend over it, legs wide apart and one cheek resting on the wood and a new rush of adrenaline rushed through him, a smirk on his lips as he stroked her round ass.

She was so perfect, there in full view for him... she was his, at that moment more than any other, inside that hotel room, away from their busy lives and always under surveillance.

He leaned down to kiss the portion of skin uncovered by the shirt, between her neck and shoulder, feeling her rub against his hard cock, her body still vibrating despite the interruption he had obliged and he got up. Not feeling him on her anymore, Y/N just turned around, peeking and shaking instinctively, seeing him undress the towel to grab his hard-on. It was swollen, throbbing and a low growl rumbled in his throat as he rubbed the wet tip on her entrance, making her tremble. He grabbed her by her hip, repeating that operation again, not enough pressure to penetrate her, but just enough to dirty himself with her moods and Y/N stirred on the table, strangled moans gushing from her lips with each contact.

- Faster. Harder... - he remembered, rubbing under her folds, to press on her bundle of nerves.

Y/N tried to straighten up again, more by instinct than by a real will to get away from him and Roman put a hand on her hair, grabbing her ponytail to hold her down on the table. Another slap on her ass.

- … ahn…! - he heard her moan, hips moving continuously with excitement.

- Is that what you want, babygirl? Hm? - he questioned her after a new slap, the tip pressing against her entrance and her center slowly pulsing around nothing, trying to grab it.

- R-Ro...

She was so horny at that point and Roman could have said the same.

- Don't worry, I'll take care of you - he assured her in an husky growl, before pushing himself inside her without waiting any longer.

Y/N squeezed her hands with a moan, trying to keep herself where she could, but unless she threw down the whole table there was little that she could be of help and on the other hand she didn't have a real need. Choked by her walls that throbbed ready for her orgasm, Roman held her pressed to the wood, one hand squeezing her side and the other wrapped in her hair, his eyes closed and his tongue running over his lips. She was tight and wet, he couldn't hold back and his hips pushed hard, sinking inside her where he knew and after the torture he had subjected her to, Y/N crumbled under him, trembling with a cry for her climax. He felt her tighten and throbbing, her body vibrating with pleasure and he started hammering, not giving her time to get off her orgasm. Her hands tried to reach him, one of her closed around his wrist as the other wandered into nothing and Roman picked up the pace, pounding her thrust after thrust, his boner getting stiffer on hers inside stretching her without respite. Roman looked down under him, where their bodies continued to collide and growled excitedly, seeing the walls of her holding him in a wet grip that dripped moods everywhere and pulled her up a little, making her moan deeper.

- Hmm ... g-good girl... you're so-wet ...

- P-Plea-se… again p-please! - she begged, hips swaying to meet his rough thrusts.

- T-take me so well… - he throws, pulling her on one leg, to sink better.

This new angle made him sink to the base of his manhood and the sound of his balls banging against her echoed in Roman ears along with the uncontrolled moans of Y/N. She could scream as much as she wanted inside that room and Roman was more than willing to take advantage of it. He lowered his head, closing his eyes for a long moment and pumped in and out of her without holding back, crushing her with his weight, his boner throbbing in her and her walls choking him. Losing track of time, he let himself go inside her, his heart racing and his mind clouded, focusing only on the sensation of warmth rising up in his belly, his tense muscles and his cock smashing into her walls.

His world was reduced every single time to that, the incessant search for the comfort of her body, the curve of her hips, her skin under his fingers and those walls that gripped him to exasperation as if it were the first time.

- T-There! P-pleease… ah!

Merciless and tireless, he penetrated her harder, faster, hips clashing fast against her, frantically searching for another contact. He had the sensation of being sucked inch by inch, his nuts tense and grimy with her humours that made him slide relentlessly, dirtying his entire length so that he hit her where her center was more sensitive.

- God! Y-you feel a-amazing… s-so tight! Y-yes - he growled, breathing hard and with sweaty body.

Y/N was shaking now, her fingernails stuck in his wrist and her mouth wide open in a continuous moan. She pushed herself on the toe and then also took off the other foot from the ground, Roman who was now holding her by the hips hammering without restraint, heedless of the not very encouraging sound of the table on which it had overturned who knows what and their moods dripping on his legs. He squeezed her ponytail, making her tilt her head back and lowered himself on her, kissing her temple, before increasing the pace even more, the boner that tensed. It was close and Y/N was on the verge of coming again, he could feel it from the warmth of her center, from the way her breath locked with every stroke of his tip against her sweet spot. He pushed again, sank into her walls, opening her for himself and no one else.

- R-ro... ah... I-I...R-ro! - Y/N cried, the scent of her filling his lungs.

- I-Im r-right t-there… c-cmon… c-come for me! - he encouraged her, swaying frantically against her, eyes focused below him, where she was holding him - come on t-this c-cock -

Y/N moaned just for a few more moments, before suddenly stiffening, her center vibrating and quivering with the spasms of her climax, his name continuing to gush out of her mouth between the thrusts. Roman leaned over her, an arm under her to rub between her skin, the T and the table, insisting on sinking even when it all became too much at the feel of his bulge. His mind was completely white for a moment and his hard-on suddenly tensed, releasing one hot gush inside her after the other, hips continuing to hammer her and push him deeper. He growled into her back, abs tense and veins throbbing, seeing his cum dripping from her entrance, dirtying them both and something in his lower belly snapped, prompting him to sink relentlessly at the sight.

Over and over, more, until he found himself fumbling with nothing left to give her, a shiver running down her spine as he loosened his grip on her and tried to hold them both without collapsing on top of her. He rubbed his face on her back and stood for a long moment with his forehead pressed to the shirt that was now stuck to her skin from the sweat, before rising with a rough breath and leaving her with a moan. Roman looked at his boner, dirty of both of them and ran a hand over his forehead, waiting for Y/N to get up, placing her feet on the ground uncertain for an moment. He held her against him, dragging her into an couch, to collapse with her in his lap and he felt her kiss his cheeks, his jaw, to comfort him before resting her head against his shoulder. He closed his eyes, arms firmly wrapped around her body, her clenched legs pressing on Roman side and a surreal silence to lull them both. The scent of the lotions he had used for the shower had irremediably mixed with sex scent and Y/N’s scent and he rubbed his face against her head, kissing her softly through her messy hair.

That ponytail had been a dangerous choice, at least as much as putting on his shirt. But if it weren't for that, it would have been her legs, the sight of her on the couch, and any other pretext that made him snap. He was not the kind of man who told lies to himself, he knew perfectly well what he was doing and Y/N was not something he would give up or hold back for.

He stroked the back of her neck, a few strands again hopelessly curly from her sweat and he kissed her again, feeling her pull up her head to look at him.

- A spank? Seriously? - she asked with a fake serious expression, voice still uncertain.

- I was trying something different, you advised me - Y/N shook her head, before she straightened up a bit.

She slipped her arms around his neck and with a satisfied smile, Roman rubbed his lips against hers, foreheads touching and his hands running on her hips again.

- I liked it… and that thing with my hair. - she admitted softly, but without shame, and he nodded.

- I know.

- And do y’know what I would like now? - she said, without really giving him time to answer - your shower 'cause y'owe it to me - she established with a smile, getting up with legs firmer than before to leave him on the couch.

But Roman had no intention of sitting or reading at the time any online news about him before the PPV. He glanced sideways at the iPad that kept turning on for notifications and got up with a noisy breath, quickly reaching her in the bedroom to catch her by the hips and pull her up.

- Roman I really need a shower - Y/N laughed, not bothering to try to escape.

- We’ll take a shower. In the end.

- In the end?!

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyanross @wickedsunfire @romanstheory @thiccc-rider-mcintyre @keybladeofsteel @mcreignsera @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @jeyreigns @civildawn @minanajra @romanmydaddy @raidenandreigns @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @itjazzbicch @ichdrachenfrau @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @mariamheeeeee @vintage-pvssy @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @helensanders92 @niknakbucks92

[happilyhertale]

Long Last Love - Aemond Targaryen x female!reader, Part 5

Summary: You are finally engaged to Aemond Targaryen. As the daughter of Daemon and Rhaenyra, you will now live in King's Landing and no longer on Dragonstone. Your marriage to Aemond is imminent, as is your life together. The relationship between Aemond and your family has never been particularly easy, but the future will show whether your love will withstand this and subsequent tensions.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: In some parts Smut (uncle/niece) as well as violence

Author’s note: Hey you (:

This is the follow-up story to "Long Lost Love".

The story starts just before the wedding of Aemond and y/n and goes over the events of the first season hotd. However, the events are not quite similar to those in the series. English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 4k

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Today is the day you will see your family again, whom you have not seen since your marriage to Aemond. You stand excitedly in the courtyard and look up at the sky. Your hands wander gently over your huge belly, your baby is kicking incessantly today. By now you are sure that it is not a baby, but a dragon growing inside you. You feel constant kicks, which are now so strong that your lower back hurts. To ease the pain a little, you let one hand wander to your back and try to apply some pressure, exhaling heavily. When you see carriages approaching the Red Keep. You begin to smile and slowly you walk down the stairs. Now you are standing in the courtyard, at the bottom of the stairs.

Slowly the carriages drive into the courtyard and you can't stop grinning, you are too happy to see your family. The carriages come to a halt and a servant who was waiting for the carriage to arrive announces your family, "Princess Rhaenyra, of House Targaryen, heir to the Iron Throne. And her Prince Consort, Daemon Targaryen, of House Targaryen."

You step forward as you see your mother step out of the carriage. Her eyes meet yours and she starts to smile, "My girl!"

She comes up to you and hugs you. Despite your big belly, you notice that your mother also has a small bulge under her dress. She is also pregnant. "Mother! You are pregnant!", you happily state.

She squeezes you tighter, "Yes, but only a few moons have passed since then. You will bring a new life into this world much sooner," she breaks away from the embrace and gently caresses your belly.

"And I am so happy for you!", she hugs you again.

You have to laugh slightly, "I'm happy too! But you never told me how exhausting pregnancy is"

"Well, I didn't want to scare you off before," she says with a smile.

Your father steps towards you, a slight smile on his lips. A "Daddy!" leaves your lips as he wraps you in his arms. He gently kisses the top of your head, "According to your stomach, I'd say Aemond touched you?"

"Dad!" you hit him. He laughs lightly. Your mother just shakes her head and has to suppress a smile.

You turn your head towards your mother, still in your father's arms, as you hear her speak, "Where's Aemond...? Are you the only one to greet us?"

"Aemond is, of course, on the training yard. And there is a council meeting going on right now. So yes, you will have to make do with me for the moment," you say with a slight smile.

She strokes your arm, "Is everything all right with you and Aemond...?"

"Yes, Mother. It couldn't be better... Except that I would feel better if the sweet little thing would finally leave me," gently you caress your belly.

"You won't say that again when you're in labour and the little thing is pushing out of you," you hear your father say.

"Don't scare her unnecessarily," your mother admonishes him.

"I'm just saying," you hear your father mutter.

You hear another carriage arrive and as you look up you see the carriage come to a stop and your brothers get out of the carriage. You walk up to them and grin. Jace grins at you and opens his arms, "Y/n, Looking at your belly, you seem to get too much food here!"

You hug him, "Shut up Jace."

He chuckles.

Luke steps towards you, he looks worried. You caress his cheek and hug him lightly, "Hey Luke. It'll be alright, we'll show Vaemond who owns Driftmark, okay?"

He tries to smile and nods, you hug him tighter.

Your brothers leave for the training yard shortly afterwards and you go with your parents to their chambers. You chat briefly as you head to your own chambers and your parents go to find Alicent.

When you finally reach your chambers, you exhale heavily. Slowly you cross your chambers and carefully sit down on the sofa in your chambers, wanting to close your eyes for a moment. Your lower back hurts. So you lie down and put a small pillow under your back. Your eyes are still closed and you try to find relief by breathing in and out slowly and deeply.

Slowly, your body relaxes a little, as the door to your chambers opens, but you do not open your eyes, perhaps the troublemaker will leave your chambers if he thinks you are asleep. But the wishful thinking does not come true. "Are you that unwell?" you hear Aemond whisper.

You open your eyes and nod, "I want him to come out soon".

He smiles slightly at you, "I'm sure she'll be on her way soon.... Unless she doesn't want to leave her mother's warm womb"

You sigh, "I don't want to advise him to do that"

He comes over to the sofa and you look at each other for a moment. You don't show any signs of wanting to move, you just want to rest for a moment. Slowly he lifts your feet up and sits on the sofa, your feet resting on his lap. Carefully he takes off your shoes and begins to gently massage your feet.

You just watch him as he takes care of you and tries to relieve some discomfort with his fingers. You let your head fall back and enjoy his touch. Your eyes close again. "I have already met your brothers," you hear him whisper.

You open your eyes and lift your head. Aemond meets a warning glance, "What did you do?"

He smiles and looks at you, "Nothing. Lord Vaemond intervened. I was just about to invite them for a little training session."

You just keep looking at him, "My Love.... I didn't do anything. I told you I would behave myself."

Now you smile a little, "But still, I know you and I know how it gets to you sometimes."

He props himself up against the sofa and leans over you. Gently he kisses your lips. As he begins to deepen the kiss and gently caresses your belly.

"I will have to kill you if you ever get me pregnant again. So hands off.", you murmur against his lips.

He chuckles and kisses your nose.

He lets himself fall backwards again. In a mixture of stroking and massaging, he lets his fingers wander over your calves.

"Do you feel well enough to go to the throne room?"

You look at him almost indignantly, "Of course. I'm not going to leave my brother standing there alone after all."

"He won't be there alone," Aemond sighs.

"But I don't want him to see only faces that are not exactly friendly towards him on the opposite side. At least his sister should stand there and encourage him."

He just looks at you, "Very well then. But allow me that if I notice you are getting worse, to escort you to our chambers"

You give him an annoyed look. You know that he only cares about you and you prefer that to him being a man who does not care about you at all... But still it annoys you.

On your way to the throne room, you cling to Aemond's arm. You don't want to admit it, but your back really hurts. Aemond looks at you worriedly as you exhale intermittently, but you keep walking.

You enter the throne room, your family already standing to your right, their eyes wandering to you as you enter. You smile at each other, but you see your mother looking at you anxiously, your arm rests firmly in Aemond's arm.

Before you pass your family, you will pass your half-sisters Baela and Rhaena, who are on the left with Princess Rhaenys. You smile at each other. You haven't seen them for what feels like an eternity. They had come to your wedding, but you had no real opportunity to talk to each other properly.

Vaemond Velaryon is also standing there, but you look away when your eyes meet. You have no sympathy for him whatsoever. You think it impertinent that he should take advantage of your grandsire's weak moment, as well as the uncertainty as to whether Lord Corlys will survive his recent injuries, and attempt to steal Driftmark. Driftmark belongs to your brother, to your family.

Aemond leads you on to Alicent, Aegon and Helaena.

Alicent also looks at you, smiling but worried. You smile at her. Aemond stands with you behind the others, his arm firmly around your waist.

You see Otto Hightower enter the throne room. You have nothing personal against him, but somehow you don't trust him. He now stands in front of the throne and begins to give a speech. You don't like the sight of him standing in front of the throne, and you can see from the look on your father's face that he doesn't like it either.

You only pay attention to Otto's speech when you hear the words Driftmark. Because your grandsire is not in a position to deal with this matter, Otto feels it is his responsibility to do so.

Otto settles down on the throne, your expression darkening. As your gaze returns to your family, you see your mother smile at you. You return the smile and nod to her. Then you notice Aemond kissing your cheek, he has also noticed how your mood has changed because of Otto.

You smile briefly at him as you hear Otto, "The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon."

Lord Vaemond steps forward and lets his gaze roam to your brother Luke. Your hand clenches into a fist. You would like to stand protectively in front of your little brother and spit at Vaemond's feet. But probably Aemond's patience with you would then really be at an end.

Vaemond steps forward and stands just in front of the throne. You see that your father is watching him closely and you know the expression on his face. His patience seems to be on the verge of breaking.

Vaemond addresses his speech directly to Alicent, "My Queen." and then turns directly to Otto, "My Lord Hand."

God how you loathe Vaemond.

"The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the day of Old Valyra."

You snort softly. Aemond immediately gives you a look followed by a light chuckle.

"For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name."

You notice your father giving your mother a look and she nods, barely perceptible. This makes you kind of nervous. But you turn your gaze back to Vaemond.

"I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys's closest kin, his own blood."

Angrily, you shake your head slightly. Aemond tightens his grip around your waist.

"The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins."

Suddenly your mother speaks, "As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon. If you cared so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition."

As Alicent suddenly interjects, you look over at her, "You will have chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard." Lord Vaemond turns to your mother, grinning. She looks angry.

You look just as angry at Aemond, but he only shakes his head slightly. Again you snort.

Now Vaemond speaks directly to your mother, "What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess?"

But she does not dignify him with a glance.

"I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn't recognise it. This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours."

He turns back in your direction, "My Queen, my Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition."

When you notice your brothers giving Aemond looks and as you look at Aemond, you see him grinning wickedly. He lightly yet firmly gets your elbow in the side. His eyes fall on you and you shake your head in warning.

"I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor.... the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides."

"Thank you Ser Vaemond," chimes in Otto Hightower.

Vaemond casts another appraising glance over his shoulder in your mother's direction and again you notice Aemond's grip tighten around you.

Your mother nods, barely perceptibly, as Otto asks her to speak for your brother Luke now.

She steps forward, exhaling in annoyance for a moment. Before her gaze turns to Otto, she looks over at you again briefly.

"If I am to grace this farce, with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this very..."

Everything stops.

The heavy door to the throne room opens and all eyes turn to the door to see who is interrupting. As the guard announces your grandsire, "King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

All is silent and everyone looks towards the door, startled. You reach for Amond's hand, he holds it tightly. Your grandsire stands in the doorway, visibly straining. A walking stick supports him and with great effort he strides forward. He walks very slowly and it seems as if every heavy breath of his can be heard. No one dares to speak a word. Otto rises from his throne and as he comes down to you, you notice him and Lord Vaemond exchanging startled glances. But startled in a different way to the rest of those present.

As your grandsire steps closer to you, you see him stop, he gives your mother a long look. Your father stands in the background, but his gaze is full of concern and lowered.

He strides on, groaning again and again with exertion. But when, after an interminable time, he arrives at the steps of the throne, he looks at Otto, "I will sit the throne today," you almost hear him whisper. Otto replies with a, "Your Grace".

At the steps he comes to a stop, it seems too tiring for him, you look helplessly at Aemond. You see concern on his face too, but he continues to hold you.

A guard approaches your grandsire and wants to help him, but he only replies, "I will be fine. I will be fine."

When he has made it up a few steps, his crown falls down. You bury your face in the crook of Aemond's neck, he holds you in his arms. You hate to see him suffer like this. As you look back towards the throne, you see your father standing at your grandsire's side.

But he doesn't seem to have noticed who is standing there at first, as he says, "I said I'm fine".

But when he looks up, he sees your father, his brother. Your father must be encouraging him to go on, or at least you think he is, because your grandsire gives him a barely perceptible nod and continues walking. Your father carries his crown and helps him up the stairs.

When your grandsire finally makes it to the throne, your father stands before him. They look at each other briefly as your father slowly puts the crown back on his head.

Your father descends the steps, your eyes meet, you see the worry in his gaze.

He stands by your family's side again. Your mother also stands by Luke's side again.

Your grandsire exhales heavily a few times and groans briefly every now and then. Everyone is waiting for him to say something.

"I must... admit... my confusion. I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only present... who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys's wishes is Princess Rhaenys", each word coming out with great difficulty.

All eyes now turn to Princess Rhaenys.

"Indeed, your Grace," her soft voice rings out.

Again you notice Vaemon's uncomfortable glances, but this time they follow Princess Rhaenys.

She steps forward until she is standing before your grandsire, "It was my husband's will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son.... Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys's granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree."

You look joyfully at your brothers and they nod at you. But not everyone seems so pleased. Vaemond and Otto look visibly irritated. You turn to Aemond, but he only raises his eyebrow and snorts slightly. Again he has your elbow lightly in his side.

As you hear your grandsire speak again, "Well.... the matter is settled. Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark..."

Once again you notice your parents exchanging glances. "... the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides."

Your mother looks visibly relieved. As Vaemond suddenly steps forward, "You break law.... and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me... who deserve to inherit the name Velaryon."

You stiffen, feeling uneasy. Aemond looks at you briefly, but immediately looks back at Vaemond.

"No. I will not allow it."

Your father, on the other hand, looks almost amused. When your grandsire speaks up again, "Allow it? Do not forget yourself, Vaemond."

Suddenly Vaemond shouts out, "That is no true Velaryon!". He points his finger at Luke.

Aemond takes a barely perceptible step forward and his arm is now protectively across your belly.

"And certainly no nephew of mine," Vaemond turns back to your grandsire.

You hear your mother instruct your brothers to go to their chambers before addressing Vaemond, "You have said enough."

"Lucerys is my true-born grandson. And you..." your grandsire suddenly chimes in.

"... are no more than the second son of Driftmark."

Vaemond looks up at your grandsire angrily, "You... may run your house as you see fit... but you will not decide the future of mine."

You look at Aemond worriedly and take hold of his arm, which still lies protectively in front of your belly. He, however, only looks at Vaemond. You take another step forward and stand next to Aemond again.

"My house survived the Doom, and a thousand tribulations besides! And gods be damned...", Vaemond turns back in Luke's direction, still standing at your mother's side.

"... I will not see it ended on the account of this...", a pause filled with silence follows. Your hand seeks Aemonds and he holds it tightly. When your father dryly calls on Vaemond, "Say it."

And you can tell by his tone that he is not in a joking mood. Silence follows again, only your grandsire's heavy breathing can be heard.

Vaemond turns directly to your father, "Her children... are bastards!!!"

Your eyes grow wide and at that moment Vaemond turns in your direction, pointing his finger at you, Aemond immediately places himself a little in front of you and at the same time pushes you gently but firmly half behind him. His other hand rests on the pommel of his sword.

"But you are the greatest mockery! White hair, purple eyes! Because your mother committed adultery! Slept with her uncle! And you are also legitimised to call yourself a Targaryen! But you are also nothing but a bastard. All because the King can't control anything and your mother is a whore!!!"

You are seized with rage, you take a step forward, but Aemond pushes you back, wanting to step forward himself, his sword already half drawn.

As your grandsire stands up heavily and intervenes, "I... will have your tongue for that!"

Until suddenly a sword is brandished.

With one blow Vaemon's head is severed. His body falls to the floor, half his skull falls to the ground next to it. Screams echo through the hall. Your father stands behind Vaemond and leans on his sword.

Aemond now stands completely in front of you, protecting you, and you reach for his arm. You tremble a little.

"He can keep his tongue," your father says dryly. As Otto suddenly shouts, "Disarm him!"

But your father emotionlessly wipes his sword on his cloak, "No need."

Suddenly there are groans from your grandsire again, everyone looks up at him. He falls back on his throne and Alicent, who was at Helaena's side, runs up to him, "Call the maesters!"

Your mother goes up to him as well, "Father?"

"Please my Love, you must take something for the pain." begs Alicent as he falls weakened against her. But your grandsire is stubborn, "I will not cloud my mind, I must put things right."

A guard supports him and escorts him out of the throne room. A maester joins and supports the guard.

Alicent addresses you, "Please... go to your chambers.... I will see you tonight"

You cannot really respond, but Aemond puts his arm around you and leads you out of the throne room.

He leads you on, up to your chambers, you can't tell if Aemond talked to you on the way, you are paralysed. But Aemond is preoccupied with his own thoughts. He is relieved that Daemon has intervened. He is not sure how far he could have held you back. Nor would he have liked to leave your side. But he would have protected you at all costs, he would have struck Vaemond down in the throne room.

When you arrive in your chambers, Aemond turns you to him, holding your face gently in his hands, "Are you all right?"

You nod.

"Please don't take anything he said to heart. Promise me?"

You smile slightly. He first gently brushes his nose against yours and then kisses you. He breaks the kiss and lets his forehead lean against yours, "If Daemon hadn't done it, I would have killed him."

You are still smiling. You are shocked at what has just happened. First you were called a bastard, then Vaemond was beheaded, a bit much for one evening. Just as you are about to say something, you feel a sharp sting. You gasp and grab your stomach.

Aemond looks at you in panic, "What's wrong?"

You breathe heavily, "He's very active and.... just kicking..."

Aemond leads you to the sofa and helps you to sit down slowly.

"He, mmhm?"

You smile as Aemond walks into the adjoining bathroom. After a short while, he returns, holding a bottle. You have to chuckle for a moment. When the slightest bulge was visible on your belly, Aemond set off for the maesters. He has commissioned an oil that is supposed to be good for your skin. And since then he has been massaging it into your belly regularly. He kneels down in front of you and carefully opens your dress. He pushes your vest back over your belly. He pours a small amount of oil on his palms, briefly rubs his palms together and then begins to massage your belly.

"So a boy?"

You chuckle and nod, "I'm telling you, he's wild. That's not a girl."

He clicks his tongue, "Well, like I told you, our girl just has the temperament of a dragon."

Now you have to laugh. He smiles and continues to gently massage your belly.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

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[atopvisenyashill]

Can you tell us more about your female Joffrey/Cersei only has daughters au?

okay so i can’t remember if it was @chena-h or @shunnedmorlock bc both of them were talking about how cersei would lose her mind over this, but i DO think there’s a high chance cersei feels her daughter is the ymbq. i think she’d become terrified that her oldest is going to kill her two youngest and herself. i think jaime does not take her hostile turn towards their oldest seriously (the way he doesn’t take her hostility towards tyrion seriously literally until tyrion is on death’s row).

not concrete yet but i think i’ve decided on jocelyn, myrcella, and *coughs* lucinda or tyana for the names. i think cersei is clearly picking names that are westerlander And stormlander names as a dig at robert (we Don’t have any other myrcella’s so it’s hard to be sure but the westerlands love to throw a bunch of e’s and y’s in their names and the stormlanders love a three syllable (cassana, ravella, argella, cassandra, cyrenna, johanna, etc etc) so it feels like a safe assumption to make). Jocelyn is common enough while also stormlander associated, also it’s a J haha. I haven’t found a T name for a girl that crosses over both except tya lannister/tyana wylde, but i Do know there’s lucinda crossover, and the joke of like, tommen being named for a lannister king but being so young & sweet and unable to live up to that name vs lucinda being given the most old lady name imaginable is funny to me. wish we had more lannister queen names 😭

i think after daughter number three, jon arryn sits all three baratheon boys down and goes “one of you needs to have a fucking son, i just finally did it, now one of you needs to please for the love of the seven” and robert goes WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY. ARE THE LORDS CLAIMING THEY *WOULDNT* FOLLOW MY DAUGHTER? THEYRE GONNA PASS HER UP FOR WHOMST EXACTLY. A FUCKING PENROSE? THAT NEWBORN VELARYON? FOR THAT DRAGONSPAWN ACROSS THE SEA? I DONT THINK SO! and before jon can finish his sentence Robert is officially naming Jocelyn the heir to the iron throne TO BE QUEEN when he dies, and everyone who doesn’t like it can suck shit.

I think jon can talk robert into putting a little clause in there that says like “if i have a true born son, he’ll go before Jocelyn but if that time never comes, Jocelyn WILL succeed me as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and the crown will pass to her first born son.” but robert is really serious about like,,,, regardless of if stannis or renly have a son, it’s ROBERT’S KID that comes next, not one of those two dweebs.

Tywin imo thinks Cersei Fucked Up Somehow. He’s not saying he won’t back Jocelyn, but he IS saying if Cersei had just had a boy, there wouldn’t be this problem. He's blaming this on Cersei and really mad because of course Genna wrote him a mean letter saying if Tywin refuses to acknowledge Tyrion as heir, there’s always Cersei and her girls and it pissed him off so much he sat in silence gaping at Kevan for three straight hours.

Tyrion "History Understander And Enjoyer" Lannister finds this hilarious. He literally cannot stop laughing at how absurd this all is.

Jocelyn…..okay so the way i see joffrey is joffrey is a kid just RULED by his first, base instinct. his instincts, his core emotions, tell him to love and trust both robert and cersei, and imo he twists himself into a MONSTER to try to appeal to both of them. no one else matters - not his siblings, not his uncle, not his grandfather, not the realm. he needs to be the sort of vicious person they could BOTH be proud of, he needs to be BETTER THAN THEM BOTH AT VIOLENCE, so he absorbs all of their faults and none of their virtues.

ANYWAYS, so this translating to a girl - who idolizes her violent father, loves & resents her manipulative and miserable mother, suspects but would NEVER say out loud the truth about her paternity, fucking HATES all of her uncles - imo means she’s got a reputation for being unpleasant & hypercritical, can’t hold onto a lady or a maid because she straight up slaps them when they fuck up, sexually humiliates the court fool (hashtag serving saera realness), like i think she is known for being Gorgeous And Difficult. i’m trying to think of a comparison. A mean girl but not nearly as charming because under all that vileness is a sullen little shithead who can and will throw a tantrum to get her way. Regina George but significantly more pathetic. Cordelia Chase without the heart. All the popularity of Quinn Fabray all the pathetic hysterics of Rachel Berry none of the intelligence of either girl.

Robert does Not enjoy her for a long time, same as canon. She looks exactly like Cersei, she’s catty and mean to everyone around her like Cersei, and while she quickly dropped the habit, she had a worrying violent streak as a little girl that Robert misliked so much he nearly beat her to death over it. It wasn’t cute and outdoorsy like Lyanna, it was the exact same cat killing shit. Cersei really loves and gets along with her in the beginning. She’s not the sweet perfect daughter Myrcella is, but she’s a mini Cersei, and Cersei loves having An Ally Against Robert.

THEN. She’s named heir and this dynamic completely flips. Cersei becomes distant, paranoid, essentially treating her like she does Sansa, with a sort of threatening affection, and Robert doesn’t become a doting father overnight but he DOES expand her education, and let her be Jon Arryn’s cupbearer, and drunkenly rants to her about his battle days. Cersei becomes determined to have a son.

HOWEVER. When her sadistic streak doesn’t go away by like 10, I do think Robert flips on her again. He has no fucking intention of unnaming her, especially because he hasn’t had another son, but I think a girl with a hard time controlling her temper would stand out in a worse way, and Robert would worry if she’s TOO much like her mother, especially when he can’t get her to hold onto a lady to give her another influence. the thing is, now that cersei is convinced jocelyn is going to destroy her, she doesn’t have another parent to run to. does she cling harder to robert, turn to someone else? if sandor is still her personal guard, i mean jesus fucking christ how is THAT going.

Been going back and forth on if this means Stannis brings Shireen to court. That Robert & Jon, hoping to straighten Jocelyn out, would try to give her a companion in sweet Shireen.

I’ve also been debating like,,, who Robert would betroth her to once Jon Arryn is killed (because Petyr & Lysa are still doing their thing, so even regardless of if, maybe, Stannis tries slightly harder to have a son, and winds up having another kid, or Cersei & Jaime have yet another daughter even after their third, Jon Arryn will still die and there’s no one else Robert would trust as Hand than Ned. Altho what i AM debating is whether this speeds the plot up a bit more by Robert asking for a betrothal AND a lady’s companion early? Because I think Jocelyn becomes a problem Jon wants to unseat much quicker, so he and Stannis wind up suspecting something is up with her a little quicker?? idk i’m still thinking it out). BUT ANYWAYS. Because Robb is three years older, and Bran is four years younger, and i’m kind of assuming they’d do a Myriah thing instead of a Laenor thing bc Robb has two younger brothers? So Robb would no longer inherit Winterfell, Bran would? Would they WANT a husband four years younger rather than three years older?

anyways that’s like, my characterization. i’m really getting into the weeds with this one because i kind of love it. there’s two like, forks in the road i think i could go here and i’ve been debating between them -

I’m just unsure if Jon doesn’t stumble on the incest earlier. It might not be TOO much earlier, i mean joffrey is only 12 when jon dies but a year? two years? especially if cersei has another blond haired green eyed daughter. if he can genuinely put the pieces together faster, before he starts talking about sending sweetrobin away, that’s a big change. but if he figures it out faster AND is also like “hey can i send sweetrobin to your place i know he’s like five but things are gonna get dicey here and also i want to get him away from lysa” that means agot still essentially happens (the catalyst of it) just earlier.

on the other hand, does robert approach ned about a betrothal earlier because of the inheritance issue with robb? does BRAN grow up heir to winterfell and robb with the knowledge he may one day be king consort of westeros? which also leads me to how robert would approach this - would he take the excuse to visit Ned to ask for this so they can hammer out the details? does robert just fully give up on the idea of having a son at some point, and THATS when he asks Ned, completely independently of whatever scheming Jon Arryn is doing?

so there’s one au where lysa still offs jon arryn, and agot plays out but with robert asking for robb, sansa, and arya to come south with ned bc robb is gonna marry jocelyn.

and then of course there’s another branch where jon exposes the incest earlier and…would varys try to off him? would lf take the opportunity to sow some chaos be ensuring the lannisters stay in power? the moment robert knows, he’s storming cersei’s rooms to murder them all, but if cersei finds out beforehand, she and jaime are going to REACT.

[mybeautifuldelirium]

Centuries Apart part 5 ||Aemond Targaryen x got!reader

CHAPTER LIST

A/N: hey my loves I’m back from London so finally here’s the promised part 5 💚

Ty for being patient with me

Summary: The dreaded wedding day has at last come upon

Warnings: ANGST, kinda NSFW, 18+ slight smut at the end

“Kostā daor va moriot ruaragon aōla hen nyke, ñuha dārilaros” (you can’t hide yourself from me forever, my prince) Y/N whispered as she got up and headed towards the doors. Winning Aemond’s heart wasn’t going to be an easy task but that night she had seen a side of him no one ever had.

-

The one eyed prince’s mind raced throughout the night, each time he closed his eye, the image of her face would replace the blackness before him. That deep violet stare that kept piercing through his own, at the merchant streets of the capitol, at the feast among the noble houses,…in his chambers…while she bathed him.

There was something about her, something that was slowly luring him in, something that Aemond couldn’t quite figure out. Yes, she was some sort of a ‘Targaryen’, he thought, she looked the part at least, but a long descendant of his house? No, ‘twas impossible, a bastard, a witch perhaps? The young prince tossed and turned in his bed, searching for a comfortable position, but found none that could soothe his racing thoughts.

“I did try to warn you, didn't I, my prince?”

“Damn it!” Aemond sat up, letting out a sigh of frustration, he had to find a way to silence her voice in his head or risk losing his sanity, but no, first he had to figure the truth out, figure her out.

-

The following days passed swiftly and uneventfully, like leaves caught in a gust of wind. The sun kept rising and setting with monotonous regularity, casting long shadows that stretched across the Crownlands.

As the day of the dreaded union drew near, tension filled the air like a thick dark fog. The servants scurried about, preparing the feasts and decorating the halls, while the nobles gathered in the great hall, their eyes fixed on the looming specter of the wedding day.

Y/N was gazing at the spectacle of frenzy through her chambers’ window, dread swarming her heart. The preparations looked different than Dany’s wedding, no barbaric wails and cries of butchered animals, no crazed men beating up each other in hopes to grasp the nearest female being and no foul stench of fresh blood and yet somehow, this tranquility, this proper casualty, surrounding her union felt much more excruciating.

‘It’s the only way, it’s the only way’

The princess was then abruptly pulled out of her thoughts by the screeching sound of the heavy doors bursting open.

“Your grace” Y/N quickly composed herself, splattering on an insincere grin as she fell into a faint curtsy at the sight of Alicent.

“You can keep your formalities” the queen motioned her hand with an almost unnoticeable scoff “Look, I don’t know who you are nor what your true intentions are, but dare you harm my son or my family-”

“I promise to be an honorable wife to the prince your grace” something glistened behind those violet eyes and it was as if her words were dripping with honey “I’ll do my duty, to provide his grace with true born heirs and be forevermore by his side”

“Ready yourself, don’t keep the king and your betrothed waiting” Alicent narrowed her eyes, skirts shuffling as she walked out.

-

As Y/N stood before the mirror, looking over her reflection, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. Her fingers grazed the delicate lace and silk of her wedding gown, a masterpiece of craftsmanship indeed, adorned with intricate embroidery and shimmering beads. The gown was a vision of ivory and gold, threaded dragons weavered over the tightened bodice that was sucking the air out of her lungs. As she traced the meticulous details of her gown, memories flooded her mind. If honesty were needed, the princess never wished to marry, she was never meant to, it was Dany who took that burden yet years later…or more so centuries earlier, fate had a different plan.

‘It’s the only way, it’s the only way’

-

The sept was lavishly bedecked with banners of emerald and gold, fragrant blooms spilling forth from every corner.

Her eyes flickered over the opulence that surrounded her, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She had not asked for this union, but her mind burned with determination as each of her steps brought her closer to her fate.

A small smirk drew on her lips as her gaze locked with Aemond’s. Expressionless as ever, the young prince stood before her, staring through, as if trying to disregard her presence as the vows were set in stone.

-

The feast that followed was a marvel to behold, a riot of flavors and aromas that set the tongue and nostrils ablaze. The guests ate and drank with a fervor that belied the solemnity of the occasion, their laughter and chatter echoing off the high ceilings and walls of the great hall.

“Naejot īlva dīnilūks, ñuha valzȳrys” (to our union, my husband) Y/N lifted her goblet, violet eyes glistening underneath the warmth of the flickering flames of the candles.

“Rȳ mōrī emā jiōraton skoros ao jeldan, ñuha riña” (at last you’ve got what you wanted, my lady) the prince rolled his eye with a scoff.

“No, not even close, but I will do my prince, I will save my house” the bride smirked as she took a sip from the fragrant wine, earning herself yet another scoff.

“Enjoying your pretty little wife, huh brother” Aegon’s drunken laughter tore through the impending tension “Worry not, dear brother you ought to enjoy her fully now, may the bedding ceremony begin!”

Aemond groaned with frustration, grabbing his wife’s forearm, pulling her from the table “There’s no need for formalities, your grace” he mumbled as he dragged her out in spite of his brother’s whines of protest.

-

“Ouch! Hey! Loosen it up!” the princess grumbled as he led her to their now shared chambers “Ugh! Is this how one treats their wife?!”

“Would you have rathered me let all those hungered men tear these pompous silks off you?!” Aemond scoffed, abruptly releasing his hold, making her stumble to the bed.

“Oh how noble of you”

The prince groaned, ignoring the snarky remark as he fumbled with the ties of his breeches “Let’s just get this foolishness over with already”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she realized the implication of his actions, yet she did not let the dread linger on her face for too long. “Just like this?! And I thought the Dothraki were indifferent”

“What fantasy world are you living in?!” the prince grunted in exasperation as he pushed his breeches down to his knees, not bothering to discard the rest of his clothing “Do not expect more from me than my mere duty as a husband”

The princess had little to no time to take in the view, before her skirts were being gathered up to her waist.

“I’ll be as quick as possible, it’ll only take a minute” his voice softened for a moment as he stroked himself a few times before thrusting at once into her core, his head turning to the side as if in desperation to avoid her piercing gaze. Y/N’s face scrunched as her body tried to adjust to his size, knuckles going pale as she gripped at the silky sheets.

It wasn’t long before she felt her husband’s release, hardly a sound leaving his lips, he swiftly pulled his breeches up and stood from the bed.

“I’ll be in the library, get some sleep” the prince mumbled as he headed towards the doors “Hopefully this has done it”

“Oh this has not ‘done it’, dear husband” Y/N mumbled under her breath as she sat up, fixing her skirts, once he had left “You shall learn how to treat me, how to love me”

The sinister smirk returned to her lips as she laid back down on the soft bed “You shall see just how far I’m willing to go to fulfill what I came for”

[acourtofthought]

The Starsword aka Gwydion

I kept turning over that angry anon from yesterday.

Was my theory about Gwydion farfetched? Sure, but at this point a lot of CC theories are farfetched to some extent because only SJM knows what's actually going to happen and we're all just doing our best to interpret the clues. There are multiple possible outcomes for every scenario right now.

But I do think there are levels to how likely certain theories are and that's usually based on how much twisting of canon and the characters we're doing to achieve them.

My Gwydion theory is probably one of the more out there ones I've done and as there are many other possible theories surrounding the sword and a lot of confusion in how intertwined these two series are, it makes me hesitant to believe in my theory the way I do say, Elain ending up in Spring.

But is it really any more farfetched than other Starsword theories?

When you break it down there are one of three options.

1) Bryce keeps the Starsword and takes TT back to Midgard with her.

2) Bryce returns to Midgard with the Starsword and Az keeps TT in Prythian.

3) Gwydion is left in Prythian, the land where it was originally forged.

I could see Bryce keeping the Starsword (espcially since the IC has their own made weapons) and Az keeping TT because those weapons are part of their individual backstories.

I see it being less likely that Bryce would take TT from Az, something about that feels odd to me considering Az had TT long before SJM even started drafting CC.

Maybe the prophecy has already been fulfilled. Technically Bryce represents the people on Midgard while Rhys and the gang represent the land where her people originated from, therefore the dagger and sword have already been reunited as well as their people. I think the theories claiming all the inhabitants of Midgard will be reunited with all the people of Prythian because they'll eventually live together are not probable. Or maybe it's still hinting at them joining together in a war of the worlds situation but returning to their own planets after at a later point.

That leaves us with the third option, Gwydion stays in Prythian.

Anyone reading CC and assuming they have Theia and the Starswords history correct is forgetting that Amren was alive / in Prythian before Gwydion and Fionn rose. She did not enter the prison until the time when they were rounding up the last members of their old masters. "The last members of". That should mean that Amren was alive when Gwydion was forged and given to Fionn who then helped defeat the majority of Daglan in battle.

The rough territories were not drawn until after Fionn defeated the Daglan with Gwydion and Fionn's Queen was ruler of one of those territories (possibly Theia?). But it wasn't the Dusk Court yet, just where it would have been.

Amren was in prison during Fionn's murder by his Queen and general so if there is any confusion in ACOTAR history, it could have come from that specific time period. Maybe there's confusion as to who actually murdered him (maybe Theia was fed lies about Fionn by Pelias, maybe she was forced) or how he was murdered. Or the missing piece could simply be who his queen was, that they never had a name for her. But it is mentioned that Fionn's most powerful and prized possessions were stolen and then many disappeared around the same time the Trove disappeared (Gwydion and the horn went to Midgard).

I really don't think any gaps in Prythians history comes from how Gwydion was created or who first wielded it because out of all the characters in all series, Amren was witness to it.

And Aidas snarling that the Starsword belong to Theia's female heirs is someone speaking out as an ex-lover who hates Pelias and hates that Pelias tried to pass the Starsword down to his children. We have no evidence that Aidas knew Theia before the crossing or knew whether the Starsword was hers to begin with.

Yes, the Starsword recognizes Bryce "as kin" but "like calls to like". Gwydion was made when it was dipped into the Cauldron. We have hints that the fae (which would include the orignal Starborn), Illyrian's, etc were "created" by the Daglan. Possibly using the Cauldron?

Even Briallyn was able to search for the Trove because it recognized her "as kin".

Theoretically anyone descended from those original Starborn fae or fae hybrids as well as any recently made could possess the Starsword but we also need to remember that "Made objects tend to not wish to be found by just anyone". Cassian says, "you say that as if the objects have a sentience". And Amren replies, "They do." "They were made in a time when wild magic still roamed the earth." "Made objects tend to gain their own self-awareness and desires" which all means the sword may not choose to respond to just anyone and it could have it's own agenda in reacting to Bryce the way in did.

Did Bryce not return it to the land from which it came? Reuniting it with it's twin? Could part of the whole setup have been Gwydion returning to Prythian and Bryce having a chance to learn about her history?

The Starsword / Gwydion is a made object just like the mask / crown were made so there's not always one super special fae that these objects belong to. If Briallyn could use the crown than someone other than Bryce could use the sword. Ruhn was able to pull it from the stone though it didn't respond to him exactly the same way which Bryce realizes is due to the nuances in their lights. Which could mean any number of things, one being that the sword knew Bryce's light and her being the keeper of the horn were necessary to return it to Prythian. And in CC they haven't seen Theia's light appear since Theia but that doesn't mean there aren't descendants of Starborn fae in ACOTAR who also share a light similar to Theia or another one of their ancestors. Midgard doesn't have many descendants of the original Starborn but that doesn't mean there aren't more still existing in their original world.

There are 7 courts in Prythian though if the crossing had not happened, there would most likely have been 8 and Theia would have been the High Lady of Dusk. I absolutely do not think this means they're now going to form an 8th court with Bryce as the ruler, Bryce belongs in Midgard with her people. But.....we know Rhys is probably Starborn but with a Starborn gift that matches Ruhns. And I'm guessing Helion could also be Starborn based off his reaction to the mask (a Trove item that was made as Gwydion was made) as well as the fact that he has the light of the sun and is the owner of the Pegasus. That could mean his heir might also be Starborn.

Dawn Court glows the brightest of everyone so.....could he not be a descendent of the Starborn?

I'm wondering if all the High Lords are Starborn (and now any of the characters who were "made" by the Cauldron) because of their ancestry. It would make sense given the fact that they are blessed with powers unlike any other. The other fae bloodlines have been diluted over the years but the bloodlines among the High Lords seems to have a stronger connection to the magic.

And if Fionn was the first High King ruling over everyone than it's possible he was Starborn and he's got descendants out there, maybe in Autumn given his connection in mythology to the hounds and forests.

Yes, that means most of our main characters would be Starborn, Bryce, Rhys, Helion, Beron, Tamlin, Nesta, Lucien, Eris etc. but it still doesn't mean they can all pick and choose whatever made weapons they want. We saw in SF that Ataraxia seemed to almost fight against Rhys using it while it responded to Nesta. And we saw the made dagger given to Eris possibly infuse itself with his fire meaning that particular made weapon seems to connect with him.

Depending on who her father is Gwyn could also be descended from a Starborn fae (if she's related to Beron or Eris).

If that third option listed above is a remote possibility than who would get Gwydion?

I don't think Gwydion is more powerful than Narben or Ataraxia or any made object. I think the mask and crown can probably do more damage to their enemies so at this point I really do think Gwydion is more symbolic of the first High King who helped them defeat the Daglan, a symbol of peace. Sure, it's still going to be powerful as any made weapon is but it's no longer one of a kind and is special because of its history. And it makes sense to have it end up with the person who will once again rally everyone together to fight in the battle of all battles.

Gwydion was a savior's light that brought about peace so which character matches with that imagery?

Rhys? - They specifically mentioned Rhys as possible High King in SF and he is genuinely concerned with bringing about peace to their lands, he was already willing to die for them in ACOWAR. So maybe?

Feyre? (could she be Starborn if gifted with the powers of all the High Lords?) - Rhys once called her his salvation and she too was willing to die for their people, not to mention she glows with Helions light.

I could see arguments being made for them except for a few things. They are the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court and morally gray at times. Their goal is always to bring about peace but they've lost trust along the way in how they go about that. Not to mention their POVs are over. While I do think they'll still play major roles in the series, I feel it's time for the other characters to shine. Amren also reminds Rhys that "the Cauldron's benevolence will only be extended to him for so long before it is offered to another" which does seem to hint at the torch being passed along.

Gwyn? Gwyn and Gwydion (matching names), Az has TT and the sword and dagger are connected, not to mention she glows. But the play on names is a little too cutesy and in your face and I'm not sure she makes sense as the one to unify the courts and their lands which is what Gwydion represents to their people. Yes, SJM is about female empowerment and Gwyn is absolutely going to be a badass warrior but I don't think she's ready to be a figurehead to their world (even Rhys rallied the troops in ACOWAR though Feyre was the FMC). Not to mention Gwyn has a lot of similarities to the Little Mermaid whose voice is literally a glowing ball of light when she sings just as Gwyn glows when she sings. When used by the Little Mermaid, it's simply enchanting for anyone who hears it but when used by someone evil (like Ursula) it put Eric into an almost trance where he couldn't think clearly.

For the love of any anti's reading this, GWYN IS NOT EVIL. If Gwyn is a siren of sorts, she would NEVER use her voice to deceive or trick someone she loves. However, Gwyn could use her voice against their enemies and I think this also makes Narben the best made weapon for her. If Gwyn is Az's mate, Az who lives in the shadows and has TT which is used to torture people (a pretty bloody history for a weapon), than a sword with darker powers which is lost to the sea and who would not "obey" Amarantha is kind of perfect for a water fae who can possibly call things to her.

Helion? It's not like he'd be a bad candidate except I don't think he's getting a POV. At least not one set in the present.

Elain? I'm not even going here. Elain might be capable of playing the political game in meetings and swaying people to their cause but she's not a warrior and she shouldn't have to be.

Eris or any of the other High Lords? Eris still has a journey coming up but they aren't really the focus of this series, they're all side characters. If Gwydion is going to anyone I imagine it would be one of the main people.

Lucien? If Sarah pays attention at all to names and their meaning, Gwydion has masculine origins and means "born of trees" and in ACOWAR she describes Lucien as being crafted from the forest, that the woods were his by blood and law. Gwydion is also the name of the powerful magician in the Blodeuwedd fairytale, the uncle of Lleu who created a beautiful wife out of flowers for his nephew and we already know SJM connected Elain to that particular fairytale through her Pinterest board.

I won't bore you again with all the bullet points of why Lucien would be good at unifying the courts, the human lands and the continent but the evidence is throughout the series. He's always tried to be a peace maker, never seeks out revenge, is good at talking to people and has friends everywhere. If High King is going to be a thing (at least during the war, the position itself would be disolved after) he would be an excellent candidate. He's building up to being a High Lord but has basically been training for the role his entire life and is a trained fighter.

Also, he is the son of two different courts. Connected to both Autumn (which Fionn may have been based on what we know of the Fionn from mythology and how it connects to the Autumn Court, like the hounds) and Day which means he does have the power of sunlight running through his veins. And Feyre not only reminds us of Lucien's goodness in ACOWAR but repeats that he is a good male in FAS.

As crazy as it initially sounds to connect Lucien to Gwydion and the prophecy, is it all that crazy when you consider that Az is connected to the prophecy?

Elain is getting a book, yes. But SJM has been building up Lucien's story since ACOTAR. He's got a big journey coming too. If CC3 is setting up the future of ACOTAR and part of that future includes prophecy's about weapons and the possibility of Asteri making their way to Prythian, then why would she only connect ONE of her main characters to that future?

I know people love Az and are looking forward to his story but just because Lucien isn't part of the IC (therefore not around much), he is going to be just as important to the future of the series, he has to be. If Gwynriel and Elucien are both getting books than Lucien is just as important as Az and it would actually be a little odd if Lucien wasn't eventually tied into the events of the crossover since he's one of the remaining MMC getting a POV.

I don't think he'll feature in CC3 but he'll need to be brought into the loop at some point as will Elain and the other courts and if Gwydion is left with Rhys than it's possible it could find its way into Lucien's hands from there.

With the prophecy, TT is important to Prythian's history but why? Is it the dagger used to kill Fionn? Fionn having Gwydion and Gwydion being stolen by his Queen and best friend (also general) with the dagger left behind and separated from the sword for thousands of years only to have them reunited is a bit full circle. Again, Az is important but is he truly that much more important to the series than Lucien that SJM would completely leave Lucien out of the entire crossover storyline?

SJM has been building up animosity between Lucien and Az which is going to need to be resolved considering Az is jelaous of Lucien and barely blinks at the though of killing him. There was clearly animosity between Fionn and Pelias that ended in murder and involved the theft of an important and powerful weapon.

One MMC from ACOTAR is part of the prophecy because of his connection to one weapon. Is it really that crazy to bring in a second MMC from ACOTAR as being connected to the other weapon? Especially when you consider the current setup between Az and Lucien?

There's a lot of mystery surrounding what really happened and I could be completely off base but until we get more information, many theories are going to be be flying around. But I think those that don't work within the confines of what we know about the characters (like thinking Bryce will leave her world and her mate to be with Az or Elain ending up as ruler of the Dusk Court with Az) are why some seem more farfetched to me. We also already have a series where the FMC had to correct the mistakes of those from the past (Aelin anyone?) so Bryce correcting the mistakes of Theia and /or Fionn's general by returning Gwydion wouldn't be unheard of.

[msweebyness]

Miraculous Barbie: Alya and the Three Musketeers

SURPRISE!!! A special final edition for the series, starring Alya! Enjoy! @artzychic27 @imsparky2002

"True courage is pursuing your dream, even when everyone else says it's impossible."

CAST:

Alya Cesaire as Corinne

Reshma Leghari as Viveca

Lotta Jameson as Renée

Ayesha Reynolds as Aramina

Nino Lahiffe as Prince Louis

Trixx as Miette

Kaalki as Alexander

Master Fu as Monsieur Treville

Olga Mendeliev as Hélène

Armand Dargencourt as Phillipe

Marlena Cesaire as Corinne’s Mother

Mael Chevalier as Brutus

Clara Contard as Madame de Bosse

And so our story begins….

A long time ago, in the French countryside, there lived a girl named Alya. She lived with her mother and sisters, tending to the farm after her father’s passing. But what Alya spent the most time doing was practicing sword fighting, hand-to-hand combat and acrobatics in the barn. And why did she do this? Because her dream was to go to Paris and be a musketeer, just like her father had been!

Sharing this dream with her was her energetic kitten, Trixx, who would practice alongside her, amusing all the barn animals, especially Kaalki, a wise older mare who had been Alya’s father’s horse during his service.

One day, as Alya practices, her mother comes in to speak with her. They have an agreement that when Alya turns 18, she can go to Paris to pursue her lifelong dream. Though reluctant and worried for her daughter, Marlena gives Alya a letter to bring to Monsieur Fu, the captain of the musketeers, asking him to watch after Alya, and some money to hold her over. And with that, Alya leaves the next morning, with Kaalki and Trixx on the long ride to Paris.

After a few days travel, Alya arrives in Paris. She finds a stable to house Kaalki, and then makes her way to find Monsieur Fu. On the way there, she hears the familiar sound of swords clashing and goes to look. She finds a group of musketeers sparring, and one emerges victorious. He boastfully challenges anyone in the crowd to take him on, and Alya accepts. The musketeers scoff, but are then amazed as she shows off her skills with a sword. Not wanting to be shown up by a girl, one of the men trips her, causing her to land in a puddle.

As the crowd laughs, the lead musketeer tells Alya to leave musketeering to the men, which only serves to infuriate her. He then goes on to say that there’s never even been a girl musketeer anyway!

Hearing this only pisses Alya off even more, because she knows damn well that’s NOT true! There was a female musketeer, many years ago. Her name was Kagami Tsurugi, and it was said by those who still remembered she had existed that she could fight off an entire battalion by herself, and no man could best her at swordplay. But one day…she disappeared, and it almost seemed like the musketeer organization tried to erase her from memory after that…

Back to the present, Alya takes out the letter for Monsieur Fu, determined to prove them all wrong…only for the letter to be stolen by Mael, a dog belonging to Armand Dargencourt, the regent in charge of protecting Prince Nino, his young cousin and the heir to the throne. Alya chases Mael to get the letter back, but is stopped at the gates of the musketeer’s headquarters when he jumps over the fence, just as Armand is exiting the building with Monsieur Fu.

As Armand leaves, he approaches the waiting Alya and asks what business she has there, and she explains her desire to be a musketeer, but he only laughs her off and states that a woman couldn’t possibly be a musketeer. Scowling, Alya demands her letter back from his dog, and he obliges before leaving.

Alya is invited inside by Monsieur Fu, and gives him her letter, explaining that he knew her father. When she expresses her desire to become a musketeer like her father, he tells her that it’s not as simple as merely wanting it and training for it. She must prove herself with noble and courageous acts, and she is simply not ready yet. Nevertheless, he tells her to come to him if she ever needs anything. Disheartened, Alya thanks him and leaves.

While Alya is sitting by herself, lost in her thoughts, Mael appears and begins to chase Trixx, with Alya quickly going after them. She pursues them through a crowd of people, along the way knocking a young woman of Indian descent into a mud puddle and soiling her dress, bumping a cheerful girl with heterochromia into a rose bush, and accidentally pushing a redhead into the fountain she was balancing on, causing her to lose her goggles, apologizing profusely to each as she keeps running. She ends up chasing them through the palace gates and is swiftly pursued by guards. She is about to knock on the door she saw Trixx run through, when a girl suddenly runs out in tears followed by a shout of “YOU’RE FIRED!”. A woman with a sour disposition steps out and spots Alya, stating that she’ll do and pulling her inside.

The woman, Madame Contard, asks what brought Alya to Paris, and when Alya tells her she wants to be a musketeer, she bursts out laughing. She then offers the now vacant position of a castle maid to Alya, who quickly accepts when the guards that were chasing her appear. Alya watches as Madame Contard berates an older maid, Olga Mendeliev (who also helped Trixx evade Mael), knocking away the feather duster she dropped, which Alya then picks up and returns. She’s then brought to the grand courtroom, where she meets her fellow maids…the three girls she knocked into earlier. Their names are Reshma, Ayesha and Lotta. And they are NOT happy with her.

After Madame Contard leaves, Alya apologizes again and asks if there’s anything she can do to make it up to them….and finds herself scrubbing the entire ballroom floor. As she’s working, Trixx is thrown out by the stuffy head of staff, hissing in indignation.

Later that night, Alya bids the three girls goodbye and makes to walk down the dark streets, prompting Reshma to ask if she has anywhere to stay. When she tells them she doesn’t, Ayesha offers to let her stay with them since they have an extra bed, with Reshma agreeing after Trixx gives her kitten eyes. Lotta isn’t really on board, but finds herself outnumbered. Alya tells them she needs to take care of something and will meet up with them later.

A short while after, Alya enters the girls’ apartment, bringing Lotta’s goggles, which she had gone to the fountain to retrieve, causing the girl to begin to warm up to her.

The next day, Prince Nino is testing his new invention, a machine that will allow people to fly! (It’s a hot air balloon, btw.) It works perfectly, and as he’s calling excitedly for his cousin Armand, he accidentally crashes into Alya as she’s cleaning the steps. He apologizes and helps her up, before he quickly rushes to retrieve his machine, which popped on a chandelier. Alya then overhears the prince talking to his cousin about how it’s his dream to fly, and can’t help but smile. However, Armand dismisses this and tells him the future monarch has no time for childish dreams, especially with his 18th birthday in a few days, after which he’ll be crowned king!

As Nino is leaving, the chandelier above the staircase suddenly comes crashing down, heading straight for the prince! Thankfully, Alya is able to leap and pull him out of the way just in time, showing off her impressive acrobatic skills and shattering some projectile glass shards with her broom. The other girls dodge more of the glass shards with some impressive moves of their own! Armand arrives with a few of the guards, ranting about how the prince was almost killed. He turns to his righthand, a man known only as Blade, and demands this doesn’t happen again…

Later, the girls are cleaning up the chandelier wreckage, and chatting amongst themselves. Alya sees something shimmering in the shadows and goes to look, finding a ruby near the rope that suspended the chandelier…which appears to have been cut. When she returns, Lotta asks where Alya learned those kinds of moves, and she tells them of her dream to be a musketeer! To her surprise, they all wish the same thing, and have been training just like her! Alya asks if they all know about Kagami, and they excitedly confirm they do. Lotta has wished for years to find out what happened to her, why she disappeared.

Suddenly, the girls hear a throat clearing behind them, and old Madame Mendeliev instructs them to follow her. She takes them down to a secret passageway, at the end of which lies a training facility for musketeers. Mendeliev explains that this was where Kagami, who grew up in the castle as a daughter of a lady of the court, would sharpen her skills. And that she intends to train them to be proper musketeers, if they will accept, which they eagerly do. She unveils a wall of weapons, from which they each choose one (Alya a sword, Reshma a ribbon whip, Ayesha a pair of fans, and Lotta a slingshot) and challenges them to prove their skill. They each try and fail to disarm her, her speed and skill at her age amazing them. She then explains the great responsibility and honor of being a musketeer, and their training truly begins. After hours, they are all exhausted and she instructs them to come back the next day to train again.

That night, Armand is in his study as Blade apologizes for the mishap with the chandelier, and it turns out Armand called for it, intending for the crash to kill Nino so he could remain in charge. He instructs Blade to sabotage Nino’s test of his flying machine tomorrow and warns his henchman not to fail him again, before leaving.

The next morning, Nino is out running tests on his balloon, writing notes as he checks on the various mechanisms. Unbeknownst to him, Blade has frayed the ropes that hold the balloon down, and when Nino gets in the basket to do a small test flight, the ropes snap and he’s sent into the air, tumbling out and dangling from a rope ladder by his foot! Alya happens to spot him through the window she’s cleaning, and quickly pulls off a graceful rescue, pulling him back into the balloon and steering it away from a spire before it can pop. The prince thanks her for his rescue and they exchange introductions. They fly in the balloon for a short time, Alya marveling at the sight of Paris from the clouds, and they discover they have quite a bit in common, such as their determination to achieve their goals.

Nino brings them back to the ground, figuring out the landing mechanisms as he goes. Alya tells him it feels amazing to fly above the ground, that it makes you feel like any dream could come true, and he asks if there’s anything she dreams of. She reluctantly admits that she wants to be a musketeer, and to her surprise, he doesn’t mock her for it, finding her determination admirable. She even gets to tell him there’s been a female musketeer before, and Nino is fascinated, wondering why more people don’t know about Kagami. It’s then that Alya must leave to return to work, bidding the prince goodbye, blushing as he kisses her hand and tells her he hopes to see her again. Unbeknownst to them, Armand watches from the distance with a scowl.

Alya arrives in the training room, and explains what happened to the other girls and Madame Mendeliev, recalling that, just like with the chandelier, the ropes appeared to have been cut…They come to the conclusion that someone may be trying to kill the prince! Madame Mendeliev instructs them to keep quiet but keep their eyes open until they have proof.

The girls promise to do so, and Lotta gets lost in thought staring at the painting of Kagami on the wall. It’s then that Madame Mendeliev decides to tell them what really happened to the first female musketeer. She didn’t disappear…she was killed. The captain of the musketeers at that time, Emani Pulateur, had been unable to handle a woman being superior to him and his men in skill, and had gathered his most trusted associates to… take care of Kagami. (She also may or may not have been trying to help his fiancée get out of their abusive and controlling relationship.)

The next morning, Trixx visits Kaalki in the stables and tells her how Alya rescued the prince, and of their training with Madame Mendeliev. He’s saddened that he can’t train with them because Madame Contard will throw him out, but Mael arrives and mocks the kitten that once his master is king, he’ll have cats banished from Paris. Trixx sasses him, and Mael makes to lunge at him, only to be intimidated into backing down by Kaalki. The old horse tells Trixx of a secret passage to get into the castle and train with the girls.

The girls continue their training every day, growing more and more skilled as time goes on. They even work training into their maid duties! Eventually, Alya is able to disarm Madame Mendeliev, and the girls decide to celebrate by going into town. However, they happen to stumble onto a meeting between Blade and some shady individuals. Alya recognizes the gems in the hilt of Blade’s dagger to be the same as the one near the chandelier rope. Continuing to watch, they see that the swords for the Blade Dance at the prince’s birthday masquerade ball in a few days, which are supposed to be made of paper and confetti, have REAL blades! Horrified, they race to warn Nino that the regent’s men are planning to kill him!

Back at the palace, Monsieur Fu is explaining the security measures for the ball to Armand, who explains he won’t be in attendance, when the girls arrive in a panic. Madame Contard tried to stop them, but they make it past her. They try to explain to Fu about the swords and the plot against the prince, but Armand dismisses them as delusional. It’s then the crates with the swords for the dance arrive, and Alya insists there are real weapons in them. But…there aren’t. They’re the fake paper swords, and the girls look foolish. Monsieur Fu tells them that they can’t act without proof, and the girls are escorted from the palace, with Madame Contard firing them for good measure.

The girls are severely disheartened, but Alya encourages them that they have to do something! They’re the only ones who know about the plot and they know every inch of the castle. After some trepidation, Reshma, Ayesha and Lotta agree, and they begin to devise a plan. Reshma will make them all costumes, and Lotta and Ayesha will make them new weapons that can be concealed in them. They’ll foil the plot and save the prince, and they need to start preparing! The night of the ball quickly arrives, and the girls don their gowns, and prepare to save the day!

That evening, Nino bids the supposedly departing Armand goodbye before leaving to prepare for the ball, as the regent prepares to put his plan into action. He dons a disguise and sneaks back into the castle, just as the girls are arriving at the ball. The regent and his men procure their weapons and prepare to launch their attack.

The girls enter the ball and dazzle everyone with their dresses, and Alya is spotted by Nino after his arrival, who recognizes her immediately and asks her to join him for the sword dance. She accepts and the two partake in the sword dance, with Alya telling Nino what she learned about Kagami’s supposed disappearance.

Outside the ballroom, Monsieur Fu and his men are knocked out by Armand’s henchmen, and the regent joins the sword dance, still in disguise. As they are dancing, all of the girls spot the real swords and know the attack will soon be launched. Armand gives a signal to Blade, and the fireworks show begins as a distraction. Armand draws his sword while everyone’s back is turned and prepares to attack Nino, but Alya leaps to counter him just in time. She takes Armand’s sword, which he accuses of being hers. The girls engage in a battle with the regent’s men, using their new weapons, while the regent spirits the prince away. Trixx even engages in a battle with Mael, using all his new training.

When the prince is in the secret tunnels, Armand unmasks himself and explains that he returned to the castle as soon as he heard there was trouble, and tells Nino that he is ‘bringing him to safety’. Back in the ballroom, Alya sees that the prince is gone and spots Armand’s mask by the entrance to the passageway, the girls quickly racing to catch up to them.

As they are riding in a lift to the highest level of the castle, Nino realizes the holes in Armand’s story, and the regent attacks the prince, who gets out of the lift just in time, pursued by Armand. The girls stumble across Fu and his men, and Alya continues looking for the prince while the others untie them. Fu and the musketeers arrest the regent’s men while Alya spots Armand pursuing Nino to the roof of the palace. Just before he can push Nino from the roof, Alya intervenes, swinging over and crossing swords with Armand. An intense battle of swords ensues, and Alya is disarmed. Armand plans to frame her as the one who killed the prince, who he would have been ‘too late to save’, and goes to impale her, but Nino tosses Alya her sword just in time! Alya quickly disarms Armand and Monsieur Fu arrives just in time to arrest him.

The prince thanks the girls for his rescue, immediately calls for Alya, Reshma, Ayesha and Lotta to be named musketeers, and they name their new battalion in honor of Kagami, who is now known to the public with a proper memorial in the musketeer headquarters thanks to Nino (who also asks Alya on a date, which she gladly accepts!) And from that day forward, any girl who wanted to could be a musketeer!

And they all lived happily ever after!

Strong hearts, strong minds, fighting for what’s right every time! Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs! Hope you enjoyed this surprise!

[horizon-verizon]

I just saw a post that argued that Rhaenys was passive for not starting a rebellion to remain heir (she never was) and that it was disgusting that she would agree to marry her granddaughters.(not her decision) with dirty bastards (🙄) instead of her (drumroll) asking Alicent for help (lol) so Baela and Rhaena would have their birthright. I know that you have already argued most of this in other posts but what made me laugh and come to tell you about it was the ending because: They should also marry one of them to a green PRINCE (Let's be honest it's Aemond because it's always Aemond) because the girls deserved a good match.

A I could almost accept this kind of opinion if they had enough self-awareness to realize that they don't care about Baela and Rhaena, right?. They're just looking to get their favorite boy a castle and Rhaenyra's allies... The same thing they are criticizing her for! Just like they say Rhaenys should have taken the throne by force but they get upset because Rhaenyra didn't turn around and let them usurp her without making a fuss.

*EDITED POST* 10/25/23

Rant coming up.

So one moment they are saying Rhaenyra should have backed off and just let Aegon take her seat because:

"he's already crowned"

"the law is the law"/"girls can't rule, it's custom"

sometimes even "it's for the good of the realm and its 'peace'" (referring to HotD's choice to emphasize the nobles/royals' concern for the smallfolk when no one really cared all that much in the canon)...

Then they now say that Rhaenys should have rebelled and caused violence for smallfolk as well as other lords, she should have fought for her "rights" on the principle of them being her right by being the last heir's only and eldest child, and she should have rejected Viserys' ascension after he's been voted in by a majority by Jaehaerys' moves? The hypocrisy is astounding, honestly.

Not only that, Rhaenys' own son Laenor--a boy--was passed over on account of Laenor coming from the female "line", or being connected to the royal family through a woman, his mother. The lords at the GC of 101 specifically marked this as a reason against her. We really cannot make 1-1 comparisons between Rhaenyra and Rhaenys' loss of power or broken access to the throne as if they had the same specific opportunities & blocks; Rhaenys was more like an heir presumptive to Rhaenyra's actually being an heir apparent. (Viserys named Rhaenyra his heir officially while Rhaenys was a person who had a claim by being the eldest of the last heir apparent and was Jaehaerys I's eldest living grandchild. An heir presumptive is: "one whose right may be defeated by the birth of a nearer heir".) What they shared is that their access to those things was seen as deserving less than that of a man and there were those who actively blocked their ability to become an uncontested ruler in their own right.

Again, that classist/bastardphobia coming out from them and them wanting every character in ASoIaF to follow suit. Not every character is going to be as hung up or pretentious about bastards the old conservative "family values" way, and why? It's both politically inconvenient at times AND it's a whole lot of energy for something that really had no real effect on Rhaenyra or the boys (at least largely) except for the greens taking advantage when they, like other lords who continued to fight for Rhaenyra even after her death, could have chosen to step aside but didn't because they wanted to take that power. Which removes any real moral high ground on their part--their motivation for hating these boys is not pure. I need these people to be able to separate social conditioning & ideology from real strategy, please, just for a few seconds! (POST #2 with a summarization of the previous multi-link link). Being born out of wedlock doesn't make you an icky-sticky monster with the capability of infecting people with "degradation" or "lowering" one's innate "quality" as a human being--there's no moral nor political reason to think that Baela is marrying "wrong" or "down". I must also quickly mention the rumors around Orys Baratheon and confirmed bastards like Jon Snow (GoT/ASoIaF's male darling, as these people tend to conveniently forget), Brynden Rivers/Bloodraven, and Benedict Rivers-turned-Justman who ruled over the Riverlands and established one of the most peaceful dynasties in Riverland history, and a real life bastard who came to be the first Norman king of "England" and is the inspiration for people like Benedict Rivers and Aegon I. These people are strong, capable, trustworthy, and most of the list are loyal to those they followed--qualities that Westerosi Faith says are not natural in bastards...the Faith and society claims the opposite. Already and since day one, GRRM has been telling us not to so flagrantly deny bastards' humanity or to subscribe to them Westerosi stigmas, and here goes people doing exactly that as if they themselves were Westerosi. Which really just shows how they have been salivating for a chance to show their true selves and prejudices, they just needed claimed ignorance or a text they think everyone is paying more attention to where bastards' presence was a stickier point in the specific story.

And why the hell would Alicent--show or book--go out of her way (fav phrase tonight) to help out Rhaenys without any strings?

This is the same woman who in the show imprisons Rhaenys to "slow down" Rhaenyra and is basically trying to force Rhaenys on her side as if that would realistically hold any appeal in lieu of what the show tells us are Rhaenys' interests, which is to stay as far away from this war or supporting either side as much as possible.

Show!Rhaenys told Rhaenyra, her own kin, no....why should she help out Alicent, who is least going to help her out? Alicent's kids are not engaged to Rhaenyra's. Alicent's kids are actually competitors or Alicent wants to become the next royals over Baela, who could have been Queen Consort like Alicent if the green kept to herself.

Alicent is the one who, prodded by Otto, used Rhaenya's husband Vaemond for her own plans to dethrone Luke and Rhaenyra (long-run) and the plan encourages Vaemond's ambitions to his death (yes it's Vaemond's fault that he died, but this maneuvering with people way to close to Rhaenys and her grandkids cannot feel hunky dory to someone in Rhaenys' position! The greens went after a Velaryon, not Rhaenyra).

People seem to also forget that Alicent was trying to get Vaemond to replace Corlys, which also pushes Baela and Rhaena away from what that person you're telling me about is their "right"....which it isn't. Like I mentioned before, Rhaenys nor Corlys in the book and by ASoIaF Westerosi culture/society does not have parental rights over Baela and Rhaena bc they are Targaryens, Daemon is their living father, and in both the show and books Corlys...not Rhaenys...is the real head of that house and never wanted a girl as his heir. Before anyone can name an outsider as their heir, they need to go through their living father/parents. Also, fosterage does not work in the show as the showrunner/writers did for Baela being the ward for the Velaryons for all these reasons. Just no. If these people want to enjoy the show and its weird fan-ficcy bad AUness, fine, but the dynamics do not make sense for the kind of world they are all in. (It's not even that AU fanfic adaptations are inherently bad and useless, I love the show adaptation of Interview with a Vampire...I just want to make it clear that HotD does not align with real Westeros and some things people claim about the show that exist in the book thematically or emotionally cannot be said to be true of the original story).

It was Alicent who tried to get Lucerys' eye cut out after he and his brother were trying to help out their aggrieved cousin/Rhaenys' granddaughter Rhaena..and both her and Baela were nearly beaten by the son Alicent couldn't teach properly. and yes, rhaenys, even in the show, does care for Luke's well-being. In the book, there is a little indication that she doesn't even seem to be willing to NOT see him as her own grandchild.

If Rhaenys, in the show, is as "grandchild-first" as she's supposed to be, how could she ever trust the word of Alicent/greens by their actions? Unless she's forced to, and still, why would she freely approach Alicent and think Alicent would "fight" for Driftmark for her grandkids?! Therefore, Rhaenys, from the books who truly followed Rhaenyra/supported Rhaenyra, has no reason to trust a word of a green over any on Rhaenyra's side. Any marriage to her sons would be more functionally holding Rhaenys, Baela, and Rhaena hostage!

*I didn't realize until it was too late that you already mentioned how hypocritical Rhaenys being a rebel was...*

[dcwnfvll]

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄  𝐓𝐎  𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓,   lady delane.

GENERAL

name:  delane rowan       deh-lane  ﹔  from the alder grove title:  lady of goldengrove age:  thirty gender and pronouns:  cis female, she + her orientation:  heterosexual marital status:  to be determined

APPEARANCE

faceclaim:  dominique devenport height:  172cm hair:  rich brown, has a natural light curl, past her waist eyes:  blue-green, depending upon the light

DETAILS

moral alignment:  lawful good mbti:  isfj personality:  compassionate, dutiful, poised  /  biddable, withdrawn, aquiescent languages spoken:  common, some high valyrian words hobbies:  embroidery, playing the high harp, visiting the sept

AESTHETICS

hidden callouses on gentle fingers  ﹔  the garden of her desires wilts, yet flowers of obedience are tended with unwavering devotion in the hopes that they grow into something beautiful  ﹔  a quiet whisper of skirts against stone the only indication of approach  ﹔  you give and give and give  —  what is left? who is left?  ﹔  the melancholy tenderness of sorrow gleaming in downcast eyes  ﹔  murmured prayers break the stillness of early morning

HISTORY

a heir to continue the family and a spare to wed for its benefit:  such was the mindset of the current ruling lord rowan, and so were his children raised.  expectations were high and delane was given standards to uphold from a very young age, the limited behaviors acceptable for a proper lady to be maintained at all times.  fulfillment of these requirements was seen as the bare minimum rather than an achievement.  appearances and duty taking precedence over all   ( the former over the latter )  was not limited to their children, however;  her mother was left the task of governance while her father spent most of his time in king's landing acting as hand to the queen, only returning to his seat every few moons to resolve outstanding matters of both vassal and family. it was hardly a surprise that neither had time to cherish a second born daughter, and though a lonely childhood, perhaps, it was not a harrowing one — or so delane consoled herself as she was yet again dismissed without a glance. so life passed, tutors taking the time of friends, duties replacing pleasure, propriety superseding a childhood, until delane was six and ten and summoned into the ruling lord's solar on one of his visits.  hope blooms eternal, and she brought her latest piece of embroidery to demonstrate her progress desirous of even a modicum of praise, but it was wrinkled between tightening palms as the lord hand informed her of the true purpose of their interaction: she would be returning with him to kings landing, the queen having agreed to a requested position at her eldest daughter's side. the capital is akin to a viper's pit even for those well prepared, but she left the only place she had ever known and was thrust headfirst into the game without so much as a word of instruction. her father, once he had secured the additional grains of power he sought after, cared only for her comportment and availability when he required something and provided no comfort.  faced with years of icy chill from a suspecting princess and clawing avarice at every turn, delane turned to inconspicuousness and obedience as her shield.  courtesies were upheld but fewer meaningful connections made, a harsh lesson learned from those desirous of a connection to the lord hand rather than the individual;  tasks given were carried out and events attended, keeping to the background whenever possible;  when the queen grew more devout, so too did her hand  ( in appearance, at least )  which meant that his daughter must as well, and although visits to the sept began as a duty, it at least became a favorite respite. over a decade has passed since she arrived in king's landing yet it still does not feel like home. there has been improvement to the relationship between herself and the princess, but the sensation of intruding still persists as conversations hush when she enters a room. once optimistic and trusting, she has withdrawn to protect herself to whatever extent she can. the time draws near, however, when she will be required to fulfill the purpose her father set at birth, weary heart rallying to the thought that perhaps kinder things are to come.

POTENTIAL CONNECTIONS

parvenus:  the daughter of the hand of the king is often the target of those hoping to reach her father, though much grief might be avoided if they knew this path is all but futile in-waiting:  as the princess daenaera's lady in waiting she is a known presence in the red keep, the dichotomy of doing her lady's bidding while attempting to keep to herself ever at odds pious:  the sept is a haven and one often frequented, and devout often find companionship in each other

[persephoneggsy]

A little scene I wrote related to my Goddess!Hawke x Champion!Sebastian au. May or may not add more to it, I mostly just wanted to get this scene down before it left my head.

~

The domain of death was, as expected, a gloomy place. On a floating platform made of crumbling marble, suspended in the dark, endless void of space, the goddess of death sat on her throne of black feathers, mulling over recent events.

Her legs were thrown over one arm of the throne, her back resting against the other, looking for all the world like a carefree woman lounging in the privacy of her own home, and not the oh-so-feared deity she was. At the base of her throne, a large skeletal dog sat dozing, the warm fire blazing within its ribcage the only source of light aside from the moon hanging above in the foreboding night sky.

In her hands was an arrow, clearly made by a child’s clumsy fingers.

She turned the arrow over and over, taking in every small detail, every mistake. She wondered if he’d been frustrated as he made it, or if he kept going with that same look of dogged determination in his deep cerulean eyes.

Her musing was cut short, however, as she felt a presence enter her realm. Her hound jumped to his feet, growling in the direction of the intruder. Hawke did not even bother to lift her head from the arrow.

“Lady Hawke.” A female voice, light and beautiful but weighed down with the clear reprimand in its tone. “You have gone too far.”

“Lovely to see you too, Andraste,” replied Hawke, still not looking up. Her hound continued to growl, fire beginning to spill from his mouth.

Andraste, goddess of light and life, frowned at Hawke’s dismissive attitude. She walked forward, uncaring of the hellhound’s agitation.

“You altered the threads of fate,” she accused. “Lamont Vael was fated to die.”

“That’s up to me, isn’t it?”

“His fate was written eons ago,” she insisted, ignoring her. “By sparing him, you have irreparably changed the fate of his entire family.”

“Oh yes, I know.” Hawke finally moved to sit on her throne properly, and gingerly set the arrow down on one of the arms. Her attention fully on the light goddess, she stared her down with dark eyes. “Lamont Vael was to waste away, a painful and humiliating end for a would-be king. His brother Tyrus, blinded by grief, would fall in battle not months later. Their mother, unable to bear losing her eldest sons, would then take her own life with a glass of poisoned wine. Their father, already possessing a weak heart weakened ever further by his grief, succumbed easily to the machinations of a scheming rival, who had him assassinated in his sleep and passed off as a heart attack. In a matter of months, nearly the entire Vael line would be wiped out… Leaving Sebastian Vael the only true heir to the throne.”

“You understand, then?” Andraste sounded wary. “You’ve deprived the boy of his destiny.”

“I rather think I saved his family,” Hawke shot back.

“He was going to be a king!” yelled Andraste, frustrated. “Instead, now you’ve bound him to a miserable existence as your servant!”

“As my champion,” Hawke clarified. “And he chose to swear himself to me.”

“It was that or death,” came the bitter reply.

“And an afterlife at the side of a goddess he supposedly revered. I wonder, Andraste, why do you suddenly care about Sebastian Vael now?” Hawke rose from her throne, descending the steps one after the other. “He prayed to you, he must’ve. He begged for his brother’s life, and you did not answer. Why? To preserve his so-called destiny? To make him the sole survivor of a tragedy?’

“To be a great king,” Andraste stared her down, unflinching in the face of death. Hawke did like that about her, in spite of everything. “He would’ve led Starkhaven into an era of prosperity and light! He would’ve united the Free Marches under a single banner for the first time in ages untold!”

Hawke raised a brow. “And converted all those under his rule to your worship?”

Andraste narrowed her eyes. “Do not accuse me of something so crass, Shepherdess.”

“No, you’re right. No point in speaking about hypotheticals now. The facts are this: Sebastian Vael chose this path. He chose me. I am the one who answered his prayers. I have done more for him in a day than you have his entire life.”

Andraste bristled, her eyes flaring with anger. The hellhound let out a sharp bark in warning. Hawke laid her hand atop her companion’s skull, calming him. Her own expression stoic, she faced the goddess of life and spoke once more.

“He will serve my needs, but beyond that, his fate is his own. Find some other poor mortal to turn into your witless lackey.”

She waved her hand, and just as Andraste opened her mouth for another furious rebuttal, she was ejected from Hawke’s domain. The realm was once again silent, and her hellhound sniffed once before returning to his dozing position. Hawke spared the beast a small smile before she turned back to her throne, and the arrow lying on its arm. The fletching made of hawk feathers… Perhaps there was something to be said for fate, after all.

Sebastian had carried a bow with him both times he came to her chapel. His preferred weapon, to be sure. She would have to see about getting him properly equipped, though -- her champion deserved the finest she could provide.

[luxmaeastra]

His sword clattered to the floor, bloodied and rotting. He barely glanced at it, he focused on Narcissus his eyes squinting against the smoke.

"Well?"

"Its done, they're dead."

Valroy looked to the bargain mark on his skin. It had begun to fade but he still needed to hold his bargain. He moved through the hall barely feeling the aches of his battle.

Night would need to bend fully and wholly to their new High Queen. He didn't much care what Amarantha was about to do the rest of these people. But he had held his tongue as that whore of Vallhan graced Night's halls. As the power slipped from his hands the more brats of Night she birthed.

The Gemed One liked suffering and regret? He'd have a buffet of it to Sing for it soon. He wouldn't have hated her if she'd done the honorable thing and kill her mother and traitorous blood. But no, no she'd chose mercy as if that balanced some proverbial scale.

Valroy stopped seeing Urstin still in the hallway. He was only 12. Hadn't he been that age when the rumors of war were beginning to reach Prythian? Had he ever been so defenseless as he was now?

"Valroy? Why - why are you covered in blood? Are you hurt? Wait here I can get -"

He lunged slamming his cousin against the wall. Perhaps he underestimated the toll this would take -"

"Stop!"

Valroy looked to the female who moved toward them. He had noted her in passing some witch or other his uncle insisted on employing.

Valroy rose an eyebrow ignoring the way Urstin began to whimper.

"Well? You have a counter or are you going shut up so I can finish?"

The witch lips thinned and she met Urstin's eyes and she looked to Valroy.

"Your leading a coup. Take me -"

"Why? Who are you to be more valuable than his children? I didn't think my uncle kept mistresses. And even if he did I assumed he'd give them some better accommodations."

He flicked his eyes over her linen dress and looked back to Urstin reaching for his power to cut his thread.

Abigail moved pressing the witchiron against his neck. He hissed and glared at her.

"You had that on you why wait -"

"I have pure witch blood. I descend from Mab Valroy. Rhysand was to name me his heir, to give Night back to the witches. Look."

Valroy grip slipped and Urstin ran. He ignored him staring at the brand on her wrist. A bargain he knew how to read. He'd forced himself to learn what those different bargains made and how to read the different versions of it.

"Under penalty of it repeating. You'd topple his house if he recanted."

Abigail nodded lowering her hand and watched Urstin slip around the corner.

"So the children don't need to die."

Valroy nodded. She was right before he grabbed blade in her hand and before she could react he let it sail through the air and impale Urstin in the neck.

He looked back to her and held his hand out to her. Her look of horror only made him grin.

"You've been alive for a long couple centuries haven't you Abigail? And you still didn't take it all back. But now you will, we both will...won't we?"

He held his wrist out the Mating Mark a spiralling bismuth. He moved to grip her chin, his grin widening as it all came back to her.

"Mab made a deal with a fae prince to survive and grow an empire. We'll make the same and you'll get your kingdom and I will get that power. Perhaps if you're fast Urstin's soul won't slip away."

He walked past her whistling for his wraith. He couldn't see them but he could feel them.

"Tear this manor apart, take anything about bargain and witches. Let's see what other games my uncle has up his sleeve. Return the boy's soul."

He'd used her blade, forcing Rhysand to acquiesce or break his entire court. Valroy didn't much care what happened to this court. He was happy to rule over ruins. But he would rule one way or another.

Rage tore through Night when the news had reached him of his cousin, the anger that boiled in his veins seemed to know no bounds as he turned away from the table and paced in front of the fire. Those who were his closest and most trusted were gathered, his children were tucked away somewhere safe - Urstin was unaccounted for.

"I should have known this would happen, I should have known Keir would have whispered things in his ear." Rhysand snarled before he turned and looked towards those gathered. "Though Morrigan, knowing she would turn on us as well! That welp of hers, her family..."

If he could he would tear into the boy, he would make the torture he had gone through before seem like a walk in the park. "I need updates, I need information."