#crowland

[wgm-beautiful-world]

CROWLAND ABBEY - ENGLAND

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"BOTH GIVEN TERMS," St. Catharines Standard. June 23, 1933. Page 4. --- WELLAND, June 23. - Found guilty of breaking into the E. L Stephenson store on South Main street, Crowland, on the night of June 13, and stealing a quantity of tires, tire tubes and other goods, Edward Zeilinsky of Crowland was yesterday, in city police court, sentenced to two years in Portsmouth penitentiary. Magistrate John Goodwin also sentenced Ben Borkoski, Deere, street, Crowland. to one year definite and an additional term of six months indeterminate at the Ontario reformatory at Guelph for this offence.

[Zeilinsky or Zielinski was 23, single, from Poland, an immigrant in infancy, a structural steelworker, and with several terms in the Hull Jail and the county jail in Thorold. He was, unusually, a non-smoker. He was convict #3103 and worked in the blacksmith shop at Kingston Penitentiary. He was transferred December 1933 to the low security Collin's Bay Penitentiary as inmate #620, and was paroled in early 1934.]

[maypoleman1]

11th April

St Guthlac’s Day

Saint Tormented By Demons. Source: Deor Reader website

Today is St Guthlac’s Day. Guthlac was as austere as they come which made him one of the most popular saints in pre-Conquest England, only really eclipsed by St Cuthbert. His toughness is perhaps explained by the fact Guthlac began life as a soldier before converting to the life of a monk. He joined the monastery at Repton but his aversion to sex and alcohol made him an outsider amongst the allegedly holy community in these days of pre-Benedictine monastic reform, so he left Repton for the bleakness of the Lincolnshire fens where he became a hermit, residing in Crowland, in those days only accessible by boat. Living a solitary ascetic existence, Guthlac’s only companions were a troop of demons who regularly tormented him, insulting the Saxon hermit in Welsh and generally making his life a misery. Guthlac was comforted by visits of angels and by his patron, St Bartholomew. It was the long-dead Bartholomew who equipped Guthlac with a whip with which to drive away the demons, and the whip then became the saint’s symbol.

It is said in Fishtoft in Lincolnshire that so long as Guthlac continues wield his scourge, the village will forever be free of rats and mice.

[danieleneandermancini]

PRIMI MONANCI INGLESI ERIGONO MONASTERO NEI PRESSI DI UN SITO TARDO NEOLITICO, CROWLAND, INGHILTERRA

PRIMI MONANCI INGLESI ERIGONO MONASTERO NEI PRESSI DI UN SITO TARDO NEOLITICO, CROWLAND, INGHILTERRA Il villaggio di Crowland, Lincolnshire, in Inghilterra, oggi è dominato dalle rovine della sua abbazia medievale. Tuttavia, la tradizione locale vuole che la zona fosse sede di un eremo anglosassone intitolato a a San Guthlac Eremita, morto nell'anno 714 e famoso per la sua vita...

[not-the-living-ghost]

I think I've found my new BROTP

I didn't get it at first, but Cricketcrow/crowland/whateverit'scalled is really starting to grow on me

[unteriors]

Clarke Street, Crowlands, Victoria.

[greenbloods]

dark souls but youre brienne traveling the riverlands

[theglassdragoncollective]

When you’re in a short4short relationship, but he’s a pixie and you’re humanoid

[blackboar]

What is the intention of the continuation of "Crowland-Chronicle" in writing? It retained the documents ordered to be destroyed by Henry VII, which I think means that chronicles will not be circulated?

It could be anything: a desire to accurately inform, a negative opinion of Edward IV's marriage, an inclusion during Richard III's reign that wasn't removed because of neglect, etc...

[wearetekkenrp]

Living Room (London)

[queenmycrofts]

London Living Room

[sweetbonniebel]

Jaes's hen jēdar

God's of the sky

Seven

Daemon x reader, Rhaenyra x reader (platonic), Qoren Martell x reader

Synopsis: Rhaenyra's wedding takes place, y/n and her husband return to the capital.

Masterlist <-previous , next->

113 AC Sunspear

"Mother can I see Vermithor?" Derran asked as you held him in your arms.

"Perhaps on the morrow, I feel quite tired now." You answered kissing the top of his curly black hair.

"Because of baby?" He asked delicately patting your swollen belly.

"Yes my sweet boy... Where did you loose Aegon?" You asked, knowing that whenever Darren was Aegon was around.

"Eggie in lessons. Didn't interrupt." Your son mumbled playing with your silver hair.

"You did good, my love."

"What a sight to see." Qoren said entering your shared chambers. "Hello my love." He said and kneeled in front of you, pressing a kiss to your lips and to your son's forehead.

"Good morrow, Qoren." You answered.

"A letter arrived from the capitol." Your husband said and passed you the parchment, he took Darren into his arms and pressed kisses on his chubby cheeks. You read the letter carefully.

"Shall we prepare for travel?" You asked.

Rhaenyra's and Laenor's wedding has arrived.

"I would assume so."

"I love you." You murmured and pressed a kiss to your husbands lips.

"As I you. How is our little one doing?" He answered, caressing your cheek.

"Good, I would assume. I am tired without a reason." You answered rubbing your pregnant belly.

"She will be strong then, since she's taking yours."

"I would like a girl, it seems you do as well." You mused noticing that your husband oft referred to the babe as she.

"Could we name her after my grandmother? I think the name Arianne would suit her."

"And if it's a boy?" You questioned tangling your fingers in his curly, thick black hair.

"What do you think we should name our son?"

"I like Nymor, after Nymeria the warrior Queen."

"A fine name, princess." He looked fondly at your growing belly. Caressing the swell through your pale orange dress.

You were excited to go back to King's Landing, you missed your family terribly. After all it has been three years, six moons after your wedding you conceived and then bore a son, Derran. He was born strong, with violet eyes and black hair. Two years later you fell pregnant again.

You along with your son and Aegon would depart on dragon back. Nothing compared to the feeling of flying with your steed. Vermithor was not overly fond of the hot temperature of Dorne so he was excited to come back to the Crowlands.

Sunfyre was able to lift Aegon, and per his request he flew on his own, next to your mount. Vermithor took off, his wings threw shade at the city below. Derran was strapped to the saddle with leather belts while Nymor was tied to your chest.

The flight took a few hours, the bronze fury flew on his own remembering the path. Sunfyre flew circles the elder dragon. Vermithor screeched in dismay at the energetic young dragon. The bronze fury landed on the hills near the dragon pit, the dragon walked towards the gates to the caves he once called home. 

...

The streets were clean and decorated with Targaryen sigils, the wedding of the crown heir was a huge ordeal and rightfully so. You smiled as you saw the familiar red bricks of the place you grew up in.

Rhaenyra along with the rest of your family awaited your arrival in the courtyard. You stepped out of the carriage, the stench of the city invaded your nostrils.

"y/n!" Rhaenyra smiled and ran up to you, she engulfed you in a bone crushing hug. You smiled and hugged her back, you heard the little footsteps of Haelaena and Aemond. They hugged your skirts smiling and laughing as you caressed their silver locks.

"Sister it has been far too long." Viserys smiled, you approached your brother and smiled sadly at his condition. You placed a kiss on his cheek and bowed your head at Alicent. Ever since you started taking an interest in her children she could not stand you. Even though you have done nothing wrong she knew how much her children loved you.

"There is someone I would like you to meet, brother." You mused and walked into the carriage picking Derran into your arms. "Brother this is my son Derran."

"Adorable babe." Viserys mused picking up Derran into his arms. "He looks like our father. The same brows, nose and eyes."

"I will take your word for it, then." You answered, servants approached taking your belongings to the chambers that once belonged to you.

"Mother!" Derran whined in his uncles grasp.

"This is your uncle Viserys, Derran." You answered, Rhaenyra fawned over her cousin and took him into her arms, he giggled in delight.

Soon enough your child was taken away from you, and you were left with Daemon.

"Brother" You said, the man smiled and kissed your cheek pressing his forehead against yours.

"Sister" He answered, his violet eyes stopped at your pregnant belly. His large hand rested upon the top he smiled gently as he felt the babe kick. "What will you name it?"

"Nymor if it's a boy and Arianne if it's a girl." You answered in common tongue.

"Dornish names." He responded taking you by your arm, the two of you walked to the gardens.

"They will be princelings of house Martell, it is only fitting." You mused and leaned on Daemon's shoulder.

"Do you love him?" Your brother suddenly asked. You took a deep breath and glanced at his violet eyes.

"I do." You whispered, you could see the evident anger in his orbs. The happy atmosphere soon soured, not wishing to spend another moment like that, you departed for your chambers.

...

You awoke feeling the babe press itself onto your spine, you sighed leaning towards your sleeping husband. A small smile graced your lips, you pressed a kiss to his dark curly hair.

"Is it the babe?" Qoren mumbled still half asleep, you smiled caressing his naked back.

"Don't worry it is nothing." You mused and left your shared bed to the chamber pot. "Your child however presses itself against my spine and bladder."

Qoren laughed.

"Our child are they not?"

"Of course but only one of us has to carry it for nine months and then push it out of my body."

"That is true and I am eternally thankful for your sacrifice." Your husband mused kneeling in front of you and pressed his ear against your belly. "Hello little dragon." He said and pressed a kiss.

"Could we stay here longer? As much as I and Aegon enjoy Sunspear I do miss my home" You asked your husband.

"As you wish dear wife." He answered "With having a flying beast there come some perks." You laughed at his jest a comfortable silence falling between the two of you. Your body leaned into his as you laid comfortably on the bed.

"I love you." Qoren muttered into your silver hair, you looked up at him kissing the bridge of his nose.

"As I you."

...

Your maids tied the red and silver dress as the others combed through your long silver locks.

"How do you feel your highness?" One of your maids a young girl of only four and ten asked.

"It is bearable, Annora. Though I cannot wait once it's out of me." You mussed caressing the swell of your belly.

"It is good the pregnancy is at its end." Annora smiled and tied the knots of your sleeves. "I pray to the gods everyday for a safe delivery."

"Thank you my dear." You thanked the red haired girl. "Come now I intend to visit my niece."

...

You watched as the maids helped Rhaenyra put on her dress, when they moved towards her silver locks you interrupted.

"Please leave us." The maids bowed and left the two princesses alone. "I always did your hair, I will do so as long as we're together." You caressed Rhaenyra's cheek and begun to brush her hair. 

"Thank you, y/n" The princess of Dragonstone mused caressing your palm. "I missed you so much."

You answered back and braided her hair in comfortable silence, embedding rubies and obsidian into the hairstyle. A Valyrian song leaving your lips.

Ser Steffon and Ser Criston escorted the two of you to the great hall where the celebration for Rhaenyra's wedding took place. Ser Harrold announced the two princesses.  

You smiled as you noticed your husband already seated at the high table you took your place next to him as Rhaenyra sat next to her father. The guests begun arriving, ser Harrold announcing their presences. You chuckled quietly as lord Lannister embarassed himself in front of Rhaenyra and Viserys

"Lord Corlys of house Velaryon, lord of the tides and master of Driftmark and his lady wife Princess Rhaenys Targaryen and their son and heir Ser Laenor Velaryon the future king consort!" Ser Harrold announced the powerful house. All of them dressed in gold and teal, a true Valyrian house. You smiled as you saw them enter, the crowd applauded their arrival. They bowed before the high table. Rhaenyra abandoned her seat and met with Laenor half way.

"My bethroded." She smiled, Laenor kissed the palm of her hand and the court once again applauded. The Velaryon's took their place on Viserys's left side of the table. But the peaceful moment has been interrupted by Daemon making his appearance soon after the Velaryon's.

He strode proudly through the great hall, the crowd whispered at this sight. He smirked as he approached the high table, an extra chair placed on the tail end of the table.

"Be welcome, as we join together in celebration. Tonight is only it's beginning we honour the crown's oldest and fiercest ally, House Velaryon. Reaching back to the days of Old Valyria and the Age of Dragons with House Targaryen and House-" Viserys stopped his speech mid word, he intensely gazed at the entrance to the great hall. The crowds eyes soon followed.

Queen Alicent dressed in Hightower green has arrived. The courtiers stood up to honour her grace. You exchanged a look with your husband, the green beacon of Hightower you thought.

"Congratulations stepdaughter. What blessing this is for you." She spoke the new way that she addressed Rhaenyra did not go unnoticed.

"Please be seated." Viserys asked once Alicent took her seat. "With House Targaryen and House Velaryon united, I hope to herald in a second Age of Dragons in Westeros." Viserys finished his speech the court applauded and banged their hands on the table cheering for his grace. "And after tonights small affair... Seven days of tournament and feasting. And at the end of it all, a royal wedding between my daughter, my heir, your future Queen and Ser Laenor Velaryon the heir to Driftmark." You clapped and smiled as Viserys confirmed Rhaenyra as heir.

The first dance was started by Rhaenyra and Laenor the two of them moved gracefully to the sound of music. An old Valyrian dance, to display the two houses origins. You watched with your husbands the two smiled and talked. Soon the rest of the courtiers decided to dance as is the custom in such celebrations. Alicent moved from the table to where house Hightower was sitting.

"Shall we dance, my dear?" Qoren proposed and you agreed taking his hand. From the corner of your eye you saw ser Gerald talk with Daemon. The tragic incident that befallen Rhea Royce was no accident. Laena skipped towards the dance floor and Daemon followed after her. The two seemed engaged in conversation, as your feet ached you walked to the table.

"Cousin I am so glad to see you in King's Landing." You said to Rhaenys.

"As am I. I believe congratulations are in order." She said and her husband Lord Corlys agreed.

"Thank you, it is rather tedious to be with child." You muttered and Rhaenys chuckled.

"It is, isn't it? I remember when I was pregnant with Laenor. I could not sleep for the death of me." Rhaenys told her memories.

Your pleasant conversation has been interrupted by various screams. You stood from your seat searching for Rhaenyra. She was carried by Ser Harwin breakbones. The crowd stilled and Ser Criston rose from the floor, his hands and armour bloody.

...

"The love of the seven is holy and eternal. The source of life and love. We stand here tonight in thanks and praise to join two souls as one." The septon spoke "Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. Hear now their vows."

"I am yours and you are mine." Laenor spoke through tears "Whatever may come."

"I am yours and you are mine. Whatever may come." Rhaenyra held back her tears. You watched with sadness in your own your husband caressing your back in comfort.

"Here in the presence of gods and men, I proclaim Laenor of House Velaryon, Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, to be man and wife. One flesh, on heart, one soul now and forever." The high septon said the vows. Viserys fell to the ground, the crown of King Jaehaerys rolling on the stone floor.

...

"AHH!" You screeched crushing the bedpost with your hand as another contraction paralysed your body. Sweat drenched your cotton tunic, you could feel the anger and pain of your dragon. His roars shook the Red Keep.

"Princess-" One of the midwives approached your curled form.

"Don't touch me!" You seethed, baring your teeth. The servants watched as you suffered on your own.

"My wife! Where is my wife!?" Qoren burst into the room to see you scream and cry with pain. He stared in disbelief at the midwives who did nothing. "Why are you not helping the princess?!"

"S-She refuses our help." One of the maids whispered.

"Leave then!" He screamed and rushed to your side kneeling next to you. "My love, I'm here."

"Qoren..?" You asked absentmindedly "I can't-" You breathed, your face contorting in pain.

"Yes you can! You already did this once, our boy. He cannot be without you! I cannot be without you." Qoren cried as he helped you stand.

"Get it- Get it out of me." You pleaded leaning on your husband.

"No child should grow up without parents, remember?" He pleaded "Please, my love."

You stared up at his worried face, placing your palm against his cheek. You squatted taking your husbands hand the other leaned on the bed.

"Urghh!" You groaned and pushed, pushed and groaned. Qoren kneeled between you, his hands under your tunic helping you.

"The head..!" He whispered hopefully.

You placed your hand in between your legs to feel the babe make its way into the world. With a final push, it slid out of your body into your husbands arms. A loud cry pierced the silence that befallen the chamber.

"A boy" Your husband breathed in relief handing you the newborn, tears streamed down your cheeks. This time from happiness.

"Nymor, my son. Oh my sweet boy." You cried cradling the crying infant. One of the midwives walked in, helping you with the newborn. Swaddling him in cloth and cutting the cord.

"He's beautiful." Qoren mused pressing a kiss to your sweaty brow. The midwife placed him in your arms and you latched him to your breast. Wisps of blonde hair and eyes a light brown bordering on red.

...

The Grimm beginning of the union between Princess Rhaenyra and Lord Laenor became a subject of superstition. A bad omen for the future Queen and her royal Consort. But a fortnight after Princess y/n delivered a healthy son, lifting the sour mood.- From the dragon bringer by the feather and quill of Grand Maester Roland.

[elephantlovemedleys]

TUDORWEEK2024 - DAY FOUR: Fancast Your Favourite Tudor Family Member(s)

Daniel Day Lewis & Julie Delpy as Henry VII and Elizabeth of York

“…After the victory of the said King Henry the Seventh, and the ceremonies of his anointing an coronation, on the last day but one of the following month, by the hand of the most reverend father, Thomas, cardinal archbishop of Canterbury, and in due conformity with the ancient custom, the marriage was celebrated, which from the first had been hoped for, between him and the Lady Elizabeth, the eldest daughter of king Edward the Fourth. This was duly solemnized, at the instance and urgent entreaty of all three of the estates of the realm, in the presence of the Church, on the eighteenth day of the month of January, in the year of our Lord, according to the computation of the Roman Church, 1486; a dispensation having been first obtained from the Apostolic See on the account of the fourth degree of consanguinity, within which the king and queen were related to each other.” - The Crowland Chronicle Continuations 1459-1586

[petvampire]

if you saw this earlier, no you didn’t 🤣

[15-lizards]

I’ve always wanted to ask someone this and I think you’re the best. Music styles for each kingdom? It’s out there for sure but I think you’d come up with some awesome stuff!!!!!!!!!

God I have been WAITING for a question like this thank u anon kisses mwah

Riverlands is traditional Celtic (particularly the upper Celtic nations, mostly Ireland) like just listen to the material. Theres almost an air of mysticism and otherworldliness, which I just think works so well for a place frozen in time bc the song themselves are timeless

The Stormlands are the other Celtic nations like Wales, Scotland, and Brittany bc the stormlands are heavily inspired by the welsh (and I couldn’t let the riverlands have all the good Celtic music). These songs are less “mystical” and instead are more upbeat and firm if that makes any sense , which is more fitting for Stormlander culture

The North is Scandinavian and norther European music (instead of the Iron Islands sorry). A lot of their songs stem from the music of the first men, when it was used in worship of the old gods, and can thus seem eerie and macabre at certain points. Songs are often sung during many traditional ceremonies as another religious thing, thus singing, if it’s not a tongue-in-cheek drinking song, is really intense

The Westerlands are actually sooo medieval French. This is because they were inspired in most terms of culture by the Reach (at least in my head) who are currently on Renaissance levels of music. Music is harmonious, operatic, and very orderly. Unlike northern music, the West’s songs are more methodically structured.

The Reach has grown past medieval music and gone on to the French/Italian Renaissance era of artistic exploration. Songs are often delicate, genteel, and more convoluted, with increasingly complex instruments being used. Different types of music are invented, with choir-like religious music and lively dancing music and gentle lounging music etc etc

And of course the Crowlands are Medieval English. Fitting for not only their vibe but also their culture, which is a mix of whatever influences from the rest of the country have infiltrated. Usually this means Western and Reach music styles, with wind and string instrumentals, religious and social songs, and harmonies

And the Dornish are a mix of Egyptian and some other traditional middle eastern styles. Unlike the other regions, there is more of a recognizable rhythm. The instruments are a mix of strings, flutes, and drums, and the singer often fluctuates, warbles, keens, wails, or otherwise changes their voice during a held note

[sapphire-writes]

A Late Night Game

Pairing: Aemond x Reader

Summary: Y/N, Aemond, Aegon, and Helaena do not wish to rest, but instead play a game together after a feast. Based on heads up, specifically in Marie Antoinette (2006)

Word Count: 962

Warnings: none, pure fluff

A/N: Was going to try and put this in my fic A Song of Flames & Fury but don't think I'll have a place for it but couldn't get the thought out of my head! Thought I'd try my hand at an imagine, let me know if I should do a part 2!

“Am I in the room right now?” Helaena asked the piece of paper stuck to her forehead reading Maegor the Cruel. 

“No,” Aegon, Aemond, and Y/N said in unison. 

The feast had long ended, and the Targaryens had been alive with spirits so high they could not think of sleep. The hour of the nightingale was soon upon the foursome as they lay sprawled throughout the royal chambers of Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena. The four of you often found yourselves in each other’s company long after the festivities of the Red Keep had ended. 

Helaena sat draped over a chair, with Aegon seated on the floor below her. Y/N was beside him, her head in the lap of her husband Aemond. A game, Helaena had suggested, to pass the time. They had all written the names of historical figures, animals, and creatures within a bowl and stuck one to their forehead with the help of some spit. Aemond was always in a competitive mood and agreed to participate as well. 

You had been married to Aemond for little over a year. After your father agreed to a betrothal to unite your houses you had been shipped off to King’s Landing. Aemond had been taken with you right away as you shared several interests in history, philosophy, and art. Aemond’s eyepatch is not on his face, he is completely comfortable with you and his siblings seeing his sapphire. 

One of the greatest joys that came with marrying your prince was the family that came with it. Helaena had accepted you instantaneously, calling you ‘sister’ the moment you stepped foot in King’s Landing. 

Aegon enjoyed your presence as well. Especially how you called him out on his tomfoolery. You found that Aegon was not as vicious as the stories you had heard about him. He reminded you more of an immature sibling. 

“You’re next,” Helaena said, nudging Aegon with her foot where he sat on the floor. The candles burn bright, illuminating the room as the sky outside turns lavender with the promise of sunrise.

“Ah yes,” he said, clasping his hands together and leaning forward, tongue between his teeth seemingly very focused. 

“Am I…large?” he asked, holding his hands out to demonstrate the size he was thinking. 

“Quite,” Aemond answered, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked at the paper that read Vhagar stuck to Aegon’s head. 

“Am I a man?” Aemond asked causing Aegon to snort. Y/N shoved him, glancing at the paper that reads The Mother. 

“No, you’re not,” you answer and Aemond’s eye narrows. 

You raise your hands in play defeat. 

“In the game, my love,” you reassure him, “am I a princess?” 

“Highly unlikely,” Aegon answers and you frown. 

“It must be yes or no Aegon,” you protest. 

“No then,” he answers, “am I larger than a castle?”

“Yes,” you and Aemond say together. Helaena giggles, kicking her feet back and forth. 

“Larger than the Crowlands?” Aegon continued, causing you to point your finger at him, eyes wide. 

“You get one question, we’ve been over this!” you tell him laughing as he buries his face in his hands. 

“I need to know now!” he says tearing the paper off and staring at the name. 

“Oh how clever,” he scoffs crumpling the paper and tossing it at Aemond who swats it away. 

“I do not believe Vhagar to be larger than the Crowlands, brother,” Aemond answered.

“Am I a dragonfly?” Helaena asked, staring at the ceiling. Aegon knelt to face her. 

“You’re not an insect, Hel, we’ve already told you,” he said, and she took a sip of the wine she dangled in her delicate fingers. She snapped the fingers on her other hand. 

“Right right, a Targaryen. Yes. Am I me?”

“Gods I hope not!”

“Aegon you’re out! You’re not playing!” you tell him and he pouts. 

“I can’t play now either? You’re cruel, you should have been Maegor,” Aegon said and your mouth drops open along with Helaena’s.

“Aegon!” you and Helaena say in unison. Helaena tears the paper from her head looking at it, before tossing it at her brother. 

“Foul play!” Helaena scolds and Aegon can’t help the giggles that escape him as he rolls on the floor. 

Y/N sits up and faces her husband, eyes narrowing with anticipation. Aemond smirks at you, and you flush. You truly believe no matter how long you are married, his gaze will always have you flushing like a maiden. 

“Am I from the North?” you ask and Aemond hums.

“No. Am I in the room right now?” he asks.

“One would say so,” you answer, and his eye narrows. 

“You are always in the room-”

“AEGON!”

“Right, sorry!”

“Am I from the Stormlands?” you ask and Aemond jerks his head up in confirmation. 

“Am I a god?” Aemond purrs, and you lick your lips at the sensuality of his question.

“Yes,” you breathe, and a satisfied smirk appears on his face. 

“Am I a historical figure?” you ask and he nods his head as though he has already figured it out.

“Am I the Mother?” he asks and you curse. 

“Yes,” you grumble, not bothering to look at your paper before discarding it. Aemond continues to smirk at your competitive nature as Aegon cheers. 

“Finally!” he calls from his spot on the floor. 

“You win,” you tell your husband as he climbs atop you, placing a kiss on your lips.

“Do I get to claim my prize?” he murmurs against your lips, before deepening the kiss causing fire to pool in your belly.

“I guess the game is over,” Helaena, says softly, a smile playing on her lips. 

“Good, I need more wine anyway,” Aegon said, finding his feet with a groan.