#dragon age woke guard

[dragonagedreamer]

Well...What can you say really?

[who-let-me-out]

Suddenly got very into House of the Dragon and now I have an idea to share.

Platonic Yandere targaryens with Aegon.

Viserys and alicent become obsessed with him when he was born. He has dozens of knights to protect him, never alone unless with his family. He’s so precious he must be protected. He can do no wrong.

Viserys wants to move him into a tower so he is safe from everyone and everything that could hurt him. Still brings it up, trying to convince Aegon that the tower would be so good and fun for him! His own space (locked away, only for his families eyes. No one else can see him, they could hurt his precious boy.) Aegon is often called to his fathers side, enjoying the loving attention and affection from his father.

Rhaenyra is very protective of her baby brother. Considers taking him to Dragonstone many times. Precious baby boy loves his big sister too. Always excited to see her. She rubs it in alicents face that Aegon gets more excited to see her then his own mother.

Uncle Daemon will commit several war crimes for this small boy. Makes sure to rest every single one of his guards to ensure he is safe. The safest boy.

Grandsire Otto will use every connection he has to keep the boy safe and secluded. No one outside the castle will see him, anyone who could be a threat is arrested and put to death for crimes against the crown.

Helaena and Aemond keep him company as they grow older. They are selfish and want to keep him to themselves, not even they’re parents can see him if they are there. Aemond trains to ensure he can protect his big brother, he’s so fragile. He and Vhagar can protect him, who would go against the largest Dragon in the world. He claimed Vhagar and lost an eye to protect him. He remembers his dear sweet brother crying for him, for his injuries. Helaena will keep watch through her dreams. Though criptic they can help her keep her brother safe with them. Only with them. No one else. They can’t touch him!

His nephews follow they’re mother. So protective. He can do no wrong. They try to convince Aegon to go with them to Dragonstone, they can protect him there. They have more dragons there, they will make sure no one can hurt him.

Baela and Rheana follow too. They were taught from a very young age to watch over they’re cousin, he is fragile and to be protected. He needs them. They will run to Daemon for the slightest thing regarding his safety. He was found in the gardens with only 12 guards? They will get Daemon to punish them for slacking off on they’re duty. One of his servants looked at him for 0.2 seconds longer then they should? Clearly they are stalkers and seek to harm the Prince! They should be punished

Even Sunfyre is obsessed with him. However unlike the humans of the family, Aegon will go willingly where every the dragon flies. Aegon can be seen sneaking away to the dragon pit to fly with his beloved dragon. They’ve lost many men because the fools tried to seperate the dragon from his rider. If he could, sunfyre would follow him around the castle.

Suprise twist is that Aegon remembers being king. He remembers the dance of the dragons. He remembers dying. He woke up in this strange world where his whole family is begging for his attention and will kill in his name. Viserys tried to name him Heir to the throne but Aegon refused, it is Rhaenyras birthright and he would not take that from her.

[syndrossi]

Reverberate AU Concept #1

Aka "what if Resonant!Daemon woke up in the Stepstones shortly after the twins' conception, resolved the first Stepstones conflict in record time, and flew back to Runestone to convince Rhea to announce the pregnancy as her own?"

I may eventually throw these up on AO3, but for now, enjoy them on Tumblr in their roughly hewn form. (There's a second part/scene in progress but it's not directly related to this one.)

x~x~x

“No,” his son said, his first word and his favorite since.

His grey eyes were fixed on the spoon and its cargo of cooked peas in Daemon’s right hand. With his left, Daemon brought the other spoon to Rhaegar’s mouth, and his other son opened his mouth dutifully for a bite.

Daemon moved the full spoon back and forth, mimicking a roaring dragon descending, and brought it right up to Jon’s closed lips. His son’s stare found Daemon’s, deeply unimpressed.

“There are foods other than carrot,” Daemon informed him with a sigh.

He moved to feed the rejected peas to Rhaegar, but now his other son was in rebellion. Daemon tried another dragon maneuver, and his other son’s purple eyes sparked with delight, allowing access. Two more fiery whooshes of the dragon finished off the peas, and Daemon moved on to the finely-diced carrot, which Jon immediately demanded.

If Rhea were in the room, she would scold him for caving to Jon’s demands, but Daemon had never been able to deny them anything. She could be the villain instead, if she so desired. Jon made short work of the carrot, which Rhaegar ate more sparingly, his eyes drawn to the final bowl, which Daemon uncovered with a flourish.

“This,” Daemon said, dipping the spoons next into the gooey mass of blueberries cooked down to a thick, nearly jam-like consistency, “is blueberry.”

Blueberry was a new, messy favorite for both of them, Jon’s indignation over the insult of peas entirely forgotten as they finished the small bowl in record time. Rhaegar got fussy when he was left sticky, so Daemon was quick to wipe their faces with a damp cloth after.

With the completion of their meal came Rhaegar’s daily demand. “Zaldis!”

Zaldrīzes, the very first word his other son had decided to attempt. Far more ambitious than “no,” but certainly less intelligible.

“If we are to ride Caraxes, we will have to sneak past your mother,” he informed his sons.

She fretted about him taking them out in the waning last days of winter, which was a far bitterer cold here than they would have been in King’s Landing, but he had wanted his first year with them to be as safe as he could arrange. His brother had no reason to assign special guards for them at Daemon’s behest, though perhaps he would have.

At Runestone, he did not need to ask. Daemon had informed Rhea that the enemies he had made in the decisive victory over the Triarchy in the Stepstones might seek to target the twins, and they were promptly assigned their own knight to protect them, her cousin Willam.

It was not the Triarchy he feared, of course, but Volantis. The Free City seeking to steal his children as infants or toddlers now that they were known to the world from a young age was a possibility he would not risk ignoring.

“You must be at your most quiet,” he instructed, to solemn blinks from either. They were bright, even so young, at times seeming to understand him perfectly.

Daemon bundled them into thick furs, taking care to make sure their heads and ears were covered, until only small wisps of black and silver escaped along the sides of their round little faces. He grinned at the sight of them swallowed by the furs, nearly spherical in either arm, and crept out with his bounty, both utterly silent for the entirety of the walk to Caraxes’s enclosure.

There was a trace of warmth in the light breeze, a promise of spring, and the air lacked the bite of months before. When spring came, Daemon guessed, it would come quickly to melt the snow that remained on the ground.

Caraxes snuffed at his sons, and they both happily babbled at the dragon for the few minutes Daemon left them on the ground beside him to fetch his own personal saddle, as he’d taken to calling it. He secured them to it first before fastening the straps around his own chest, and when he was finished, he had one on either side of his back, peering over his shoulders.

Mindful of the maester’s many lectures on how much fresh air was acceptable for infants, he kept the flight short, guiding Caraxes along the northern shoreline before completing a wide circle around the outer perimeter of Runestone, landing back at the enclosure to a welcoming party of Ser Willam and his lady wife herself, her lips pursed in disapproval.

Daemon approached her unapologetically after dismounting, his two passengers giggling their glee at the ride, until her frown began to waver.

“I promised Jon he could have a dragon ride if he ate his peas,” Daemon said.

Rhea’s eyebrows crept up, her gaze shifting to his right shoulder. “And did you, Jon?”

“No!” Jon exclaimed, expressing far too much merriment in his betrayal for Daemon to do anything but smile.

“Rhaegar ate his peas,” Daemon said. “I could hardly leave one of them behind.”

Rhea walked up to him, her intention plain, and Daemon crouched so that she could reach each of their cheeks for a kiss. “You must not encourage your father. He is more than capable of doing so of his own accord.”

Daemon begrudgingly surrendered them to her for the walk back to the castle, their destination his wife’s solar with its large hearth, already radiating heat into the chamber. Tea, piping hot, was brought up from the kitchens, and once Daemon had finished unwrapping his sons from their layers of fur, and set them upon it with their beloved dragon dolls within reach, he poured himself a cup and settled on the floor beside them.

“Did you seek me out for a particular reason?” Daemon asked, knowing that as much as Rhea might fret about the dragon excursions, she no longer believed he would endanger them in any way.

“A raven arrived from King’s Landing.” She grabbed her own cup and sat in one of the chairs by the hearth, tossing him a rolled up slip of parchment. “From the king himself.”

Ignoring the twist of apprehension in his stomach, Daemon broke the seal and unfurled the parchment, scanning it quickly for any unwelcome surprises. The contents, however, though not particularly welcome, were not a surprise. “My brother has a new son. We are invited to King’s Landing.” He handed the letter to her. “He is still set on throwing a tourney for the twins, and plans to tie it with celebrations of his son’s birth.”

If there was one lesson his brother had learned at long last, it was not to celebrate births before they happened.

Rhaegar had crawled to Rhea’s chair to tug insistently at the laces of her boots. She scooped him onto her lap, holding him there as she read the letter herself. “Six moons. Spring will surely be upon us by then. The seas should be calmer.”

“Choppy water is little concern to a dragon,” Daemon said.

“It is to those of us who must travel by ship,” she retorted.

It would be at least two weeks by sea, and even in spring, not a pleasant voyage. Daemon hesitated, then said, “Come with us on Caraxes. The saddle seats two.”

The offer caught her off guard, her eyes narrowing briefly in suspicion as though she thought he was not being earnest. “You have not let me ride with you before.”

You have not asked, Daemon almost said, before remembering his very first arrival at Runestone—less than a decade ago to Rhea, but nearly two for him. He had been bitterly furious about the marriage, escorted there by his own father on Vhagar, as though he might try to flee otherwise. His new wife had borne the brunt of Daemon’s resentment, his interactions with her curt. When she had asked him if they might ride on Caraxes together, he had coldly informed her that such privileges were for Targaryens alone.

“Jon and Rhaegar will want you there,” Daemon said, by way of excuse.

“Zaldis,” Rhaegar said solemnly to her.

“Very well,” Rhea said, her expression now one she often wore in his company—as though she were not quite sure what to make of him. “It would be an honor.”

It was a matter of pragmatism as well. Rhea’s confession to treason on her deathbed had settled any doubts about her truly being his sons’ mother. Here, it was still possible that a whisper or two in King’s Landing about Lady Elys also being present at the family’s summer home at the time of birth could raise suspicion. The more amicable his relationship with Rhea in the eyes of the realm, the less likely anyone would be to question—or question successfully, at least.

Daemon retreated to the desk to write a response to his brother’s letter, a frown finding him midway through. His sons’ sworn shield, Ser Willam, would have to travel by ship, which meant they would be without protection for a time in King’s Landing. Viserys should be able to spare at least one of his Kingsguard until he’s arrived, he decided finally, including a request for such in his letter. He can have his damned tourney in return.

By the time he had finished, both of his sons had started fussing for their linens to be changed, which was one of the few tasks he happily let their nurse handle, taking a small meal of his own before rejoining them in the nursery. They were sleepy with milk when he arrived, fresh from the wetnurse’s breast, and he eagerly reclaimed them, kissing each soft cheek as he carried them back to the solar, where their cradle was kept.

It was an elaborate piece, with an intricate relief of two dragons perched vigilantly at the head of the cradle, sized for two babes, rather than one. He’d commissioned it the very day he had arrived back in Runestone to confront Rhea about Elys’s pregnancy, and if the woodworker had wondered about his confidence about having twins, he had kept his curiosity to himself.

It only saw use during the day, when his sons napped. At night, they slept with him. He had lain awake for most of the first few nights, terrified that he might somehow crush them in his sleep, but that fear had eventually subsided. The fear of someone taking them from him, however—that had not.

He watched them sleep from his chair by the hearth. They stalked you from the shadows before, and struck in broad daylight. Has it begun yet? Do they watch us even now?

One of the posts on his brother’s small council that he had not yet held—and subsequently been dismissed from—was that of master of whisperers. With the Stepstones claimed for now and its crown bestowed upon his brother, he had been promised a favor. A position on his small council would certainly be within reason.

But it would require moving his family to King’s Landing. Once, he would have wanted nothing more than to escape Runestone and return home. But even just the past year he had spent in the Vale, first anticipating his sons’ arrival and then raising them since, had shifted the castle from a hated prison to something almost like a sanctuary.

How do I protect you? He reached into the cradle, stroking the back of Jon’s small hand, which immediately curled around his forefinger in response, his grip strong. Daemon smiled. When will you first demand a dagger to wield?

He repeated the motion with his other hand on Rhaegar, who also instinctively grabbed for his finger. Daemon recalled the first few weeks after their birth, when his younger son would wail whenever he tried to hold him or even approach. That phase had fortunately passed. These days, Rhaegar happily demanded dragon rides and cuddles.

“You have trapped me,” he murmured, keeping his voice quiet so as not to wake them.

He could feel Rhea’s eyes on him from where she worked at her desk. All their marriage, she had built him up as a monster in her head: selfish, cruel, ambitious. When he had hurried on Caraxes to Runestone to find both Rhea and her sister in the midst of drafting their proposal to Corwyn Redfort, he had nearly flown into a rage. Instead, he had confronted her about all that she sought to steal from him, every moment he had mourned since rescuing them from the Vale the first time, equal parts fury and grief.

She had not looked at him the same since. Daemon wondered if she struggled as he did when he tried to reconcile his own hatred for what she had done to him before with her newfound tolerance. That first exchange had been—heated. Daemon’s infidelity, after all, had been the very reason for the pregnancy. Yet she had been willing to hear his proposal and forgo her own honor to offer the twins a life free of the stain of bastardry.

“Do you regret your choice?” he asked, turning to her.

Rhea regarded him with a raised brow. “Have I given you cause to believe so?” She rose from her desk to approach the cradle, gazing down at the twins with a smile that did not fully reach her eyes. “I feel guilty that I may have them, and my sister may not. It is—difficult on her.”

Elys had been forced to stay behind at the summer estate after their departure with the twins, though they had remained there for the first week. Daemon’s jaw clenched, and he shifted his gaze back to the cradle. He did not regret taking them for his own, but the pain and loss in their true mother’s eyes as they had been plucked from her arms for the final time reminded him uncomfortably of his own grief at their childhood having been stolen from him.

“When enough time has passed, I do not see why they should not know the company of their aunt.”

But enough time could very well be another year or two. First she would need to be safely wed, perhaps with another child on the way that would be trueborn and hers to keep.

By the shake of her head, he guessed that Rhea was thinking the same. She reached out her hand toward Jon, only to pull back at the last moment. “I cannot help but feel that I have stolen them.”

And yet you felt no such guilt in taking them from me. He swallowed that old anger, then wondered if it had been her reason for only seeking them out twice a year. Whether they would always feel stolen to her.

“Do not let that stop you from loving them,” Daemon said, earning another of those uncertain looks. He fought back a frown, misliking the sense of being constantly evaluated and reevaluated. “They deserve a mother’s love.”

“Though you would rather it not be mine,” she said with a hint of challenge.

“It does not matter what I want,” Daemon replied, feeling himself grow heated. “It is a matter of what they need.”

Their raised voices had woken Rhaegar, who was peering upward at them now, his purple eyes fixed on Daemon. They had darkened some since birth, from a lilac that had immediately recalled his uncle Aemon, to something closer to the darker violet he remembered. Rhaegar’s brow furrowed, the beginning of a whimper forming in his throat, and Daemon quickly began humming a lullaby as he rocked the cradle back and forth.

Rhaegar settled eventually, snuggling into Jon’s side, and they sat in silence for several minutes as Daemon continued to rock and hum.

“I do love them,” Rhea said eventually, voice lowered to a whisper so as not to disturb the sleeping infants again. “I had grown resigned that I would never have children of my own. To have them, but in a manner so steeped in dishonor, both yours and mine own—”

“They live,” Daemon interrupted. “They breathe.” He leaned in to kiss their tiny foreheads. “How can there be dishonor in that?”

Rhea fell silent, watching them for a time, before leaning in to do the same. As she pulled back, Jon’s eyes opened to fix upon her. The hint of purple in them at birth had since faded, almost lost now within the pensive grey. Rhea stared at Jon, as though trapped by his gaze, then leaned in to kiss his cheek as well.

Daemon overcame his reluctance and rose to give her space. “It is your turn to sing.”

[the-fiction-witch]

Baby Tully P2

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Oscar Tully (Age Up I suppose) Couple - Oscar X Reader Reader - Y/n (wife) Rating - 15 (Childbirth) Word Count - 1607

The storm soon came and began to batter Riverrun with rain, wind and thunder. The waters of the Trident River lapped at the walls in the wind. Y/n woke uncharacteristically early often Oscar woke her for some kisses when he left for his duties and she'd sleep a few more hours till finally getting up around midday. But she was awake before Oscar, She sat up finding her body so uncomfortable and painful but she couldn't figure out why. But the pain only got worse and worse until she had no choice. "Oscar? Oscar?" She spoke up trying to wake but not panic him,

Oscar woke up to the sound of Y/n's voice calling his name. He was immediately alert, sensing that something was wrong. He sat up in bed and looked over at her, his eyes filled with concern. "Yes, my love? What is it? Are you alright?"

"Could you... Call for the maester.".

Oscar's heart skipped a beat at her words. He could see the pain in her eyes and realized something was seriously wrong. Without hesitation, he climbed out of bed and rushed to the door. "I'll get the maester right away. Just hold on a minute, my love." He quickly opened the door and summoned a nearby guard to fetch the maester. As the guard left to find the maester, Oscar returned to the bed and sat down beside Y/n. He took her hand in his, gently stroking it with his thumb. He was struggling to keep his own anxiety at bay, but tried to stay calm for her sake. "The maester is coming. Just hang on a little longer, my love. Everything is going to be alright."

she squeezed his hand as she struggled through the ever-building pain

Oscar held her hand tight, his heart clenching with each squeeze of her hand. He could see the pain etched across her face, and it was all he could do to not panic. "It's going to be alright. The maester is on his way. Just try to stay calm, my love."

the maester soon arrived his chain clinking as he arrives,

Oscar quickly stood up, relief washing over him. He stepped aside to let the maester approach Y/n. "Maester, thank the gods you're here. Something is wrong. She's in a great deal of pain."

"Yes of course my lord Tully." He nodded as he approached the bed he gave Y/n a few checks and hummed contemporary for a moment before he spoke, "yes... Yes... I see the trouble,"

Oscar stayed by Y/n's side, his hand still tightly grasping hers. He listened intently as the maester spoke, his heart pounding in his chest. He was desperate for answers, for reassurance that everything would be alright. "What is it, maester? Please, tell me what's going on."

"There is no need for concern my lord. The lady Tully has merely begun her labours"

A wave of relief washed over Oscar as the maester's words sank in. Labour. Their child was finally on the way. He squeezed Y/n's hand, his expression one of both concern and excitement. "Labour? The baby is coming?"

"Yes early labour for a few hours now I suspect. A few more hours to go but with any luck the lady will deliver before dinner."

Oscar nodded, a mix of excitement and worry warring inside him. A few more hours? The wait would be agonizing, but he knew they had no choice. He looked down at Y/n, his hand still holding hers. "Do you hear that love? Our child is coming. Just a few more hours and we'll get to meet him."

Y/n nodded excited but also terrified. The maester called for maids to fetch water, hot towels and help to arrange and prepare the bed for her labours.

"Now I must ask do you recall the night of conception my lord?" The maester asks,

Oscar was taken back a bit by the unexpected question, but he quickly composed himself, his mind going back to the night their child was conceived. "Yes, I recall the night well. Why do you ask, maester?"

"Well, children even this young are rather creatures of habit. They want to come out... As they went in one may say." He chuckled, "So do you happen to recall the uhh position the lady Tully was in?"

Oscar felt his face turn red at the bluntness of the question, but he understood the need for it. He remembered back to that night, his mind going over the details of their lovemaking. He looked down at Y/n, then back at the maester and responded a little sheepishly. "Yes, I do recall. She was on the edge of the bed, on her back."

the maester Nodded, "Perfect." He then ordered the maids to arrange pillows and supports to keep Y/n comfortable on her back regularly checking on her progress, "Excellent my lady. The baby is coming along smoothly”

Oscar stayed beside her, his hand still holding hers. He was feeling a mix of anticipation and anxiety as he watched the maester check on her progress. "Everything is going well, then? The baby is coming along as they should be?"

"yes almost fully dilated now. Almost time to get working my lady." The maester explained

Y/n was now weeping and choking back her pained whimpers

Oscar squeezed Y/n's hand, his heart clenching at seeing her in so much pain. He wanted so badly to take that pain away, but he knew he could do nothing but watch and support her. "You're doing so well, my love. Just a little longer, and we'll get to meet our little baby Tully."

Y/n nodded squeezing Oscar's hard tightly "...our baby tully..." She muttered as if trying to use it as a crutch for her pain before letting out a scream

Oscar winced at the sound of her scream, hating that there was nothing he could do to take away her pain. He felt his hand being crushed by hers, but he didn't dare withdraw from her grip. "That's right, our little one. Think of it, my love. Soon we'll get to hold our Baby Tully in our arms."

The maester spoke up, starting to give y/n orders. Ordering her to breathe, to push, and all manner of other things, time seemed endless and sickening the longer this all went on. "Push, my lady. The baby is almost here. Push."

Oscar's heart was racing, but he tried to remain calm for Y/n's sake. He looked down at her, encouraging her. "You can do this, my love. You're so strong. Push."

Y/n screamed and cried through every push, crushing Oscar's hand and clawing at their sheets crying and throwing back her head

With each push, Oscar's hand felt as if it was being crushed, but he held fast, not wanting to let go and give Y/n the impression that he was backing away at all. He ached to see her in so much pain, feeling helpless to do anything but offer support and words of encouragement. "That's it, my love. You're almost there, just a little more. You're doing so well."

"ah... Yes... I see..." The maester spoke up, as blood coated his hands, "My lady you must push."

"No... No... I can't do anymore." Y/n cried,

Fear and anxiety clutched at Oscar's heart as he listened to the maester's voice, his hands stained with blood. "You can do it, my love. I know you're tired, I know you're in pain, but our little one is almost here. You have to push just a little more. You must."

"I can't" Y/n cried tears flooding down her face, "it hurts ... So much" she wept, “Please… Please Oscar I can’t do any more…”

Oscar's heart broke at the sight of her tears, the sound of her pained cries. "I know it hurts, my love. But our Baby Tully is right there. You're so close. You're so close. Just a little bit more. You can do this."

“Please no more…”

The Maester met eyes with Oscar a dark look in his eyes. And Oscar knew without a single word what the maester was asking. Whether or not to force Y/n through this unwillingly, or to cut her open and take the baby which would without doubt kill her but perhaps save the baby. Fear and desperation coursed through him. For a moment, Oscar was paralyzed. He could not fathom losing his wife, and being forced to choose between the love of his life or his precious child. He looked back at Y/n, his heart breaking at the sight of her in so much pain and distress. He gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his voice soft but firm. "You have to push, my love. I know you're tired, I know you're scared, but I also know how strong you are. You have to be strong for just a little longer, for Baby Tully. Can you do that, for me? Can you push, one more time?"

Y/n wept and screamed out throwing her head back as she pushed as hard as she could, that one push enough to force her body into working on its own. Her body senses what it has to do and acts on its own to get the baby out.

Oscar watched helplessly as Y/n pushed, every muscle in her body working hard to deliver their child. Her tears streamed down her face and her screams filled the air, but she pushed even harder. He could see the pain etched on her features, but he also caught a glimpse of determination in her eyes. "That's it, my love. You're doing it. Just a little more. Our Baby Tully is almost here."

Y/n screamed out once more and suddenly the screams and sound of the storm seemed to silence as a gentle cry began,

[misguidedasgardian]

The Winter Sun (27)

27. Home

MASTERLIST

Summary: The aftermath

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoiaf customs, AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, breastfeeding and t*tty milk, a little angst, but fluff, mentions of past abuse and non-con, dealing with trauma, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 2.6 k

Notes: Did you liked the name? Jonaerys? i don't like to think it reminds me of Jon Snow ... but I LOVE the name Jacaerys, it sounds so cool so I wanted his name to sound like that... so I made one up jiji

You couldn’t feed your child.

Your milk never came, you guessed because of the fear, the tension, the pain, the sorrow of thinking you had lost your husband and love of your life

But in the middle of the night, you felt something strange, something wet, and it really felt like a dam had broken, releasing yourself.

Jonaerys cried and you felt how the milk flowed from your breasts, waking you up in the middle of the night.

It was some sort of miracle

You looked at a sleepy Cregan who was just woken up just like you

You felt safe now, you were safe, and your body knew it. You stood up and grabbed Jonaerys, and released your breast.

He clung to you in a second, feeding from you hungrily, you wouldn’t have to call the midwife. You almost cried with happiness

“You are feeding him”, Cregan whispered, kissing your naked shoulder, holding you by your back for you to relax against him, like he used to do when you just had Rickon

it felt so nice, so familiar, to have Cregan hold you as you fed your son against you, it felt like nothing had happened, oh how you wished that was true… That nothing happened to you, that you didn’t have the need to doubt your son’s paternity.

But this was the first step to recover from this, having Cregan holding you, with the love and devotion in his eyes that he always had, despite all the things Aemond did to you, his love for you didn’t change a bit, and that was your biggest lifeline right now.

You woke up the next morning with Cregan sitting in the bed, holding Jonaerys 

He was cuddling him against his neck, as he breathed his son in

“What are you doing?”, you asked, amused

“I’m trying to engrave our son’s smell in my mind”, he whispered, with a little smile, as he looked at you with those icy blues that made you feel so safe, “He has this distinct smell, just like Rickon”, he admitted, and you felt your heart jump in your chest, he was so sweet with his babies, he was such a great father

A couple of days had passed, and even though you were enjoying staying here in your home with your husband and child, you felt like a big part was missing

Rickon and Sara

You wanted to see them, you needed to see your son

Soa after much begging and an uncomfortable check up from the maester, Cregan and you were ready to leave the outskirts from Runestone. You had said goodbye to all the servants and guards that had kept you safe, and were living in your home, keeping it alive, it was very sentimental… But there was only one thing in your mind, and it was seeing your son. 

You could tell that Cregan was nervous, he had flied in your dragon before, but never with his newborn son in his arms, you smiled at him as you help him place Jonaerys in a sort of sling, that was tied to his chest, back and over his arms, the safest place your baby could be

Jonaerys was sleeping, cuddled against his father’s chest, unaware of his surroundings and his father’s nervousness

You exited the castle, and you found it strange that Vhaelar was not there to greet you, you guessed she was in her cave, which wasn’t odd, so you walked ahead to find her

She was coiled on herself on the biggest cave near the castle, she could feel you walking towards her, so she raised her head and cooed at you softly

“rytsa konīr” [Hello there], you greeted, she roared softly, raising from the ground, and you could feel the heat coming from a special spot under her.

Was that…?

You walked towards it, and you found it, a fresh nest, still smoking

“ao ilagontan iā dorolvie hen drōma”, [you laid a clutch of eggs], Vhaelar cooed softly, sounding so proud of herself. 

You took the eggs softly, two eggs, for your two children

You needed to be fast, and fly North to place them on heating chambers

“ivestragī's jikagon lenton”, [Let’s go home], you said to her

The fly was too long for your taste, you would be able to get to Winterfell before the day’s end, but it couldn’t come fast enough

Your bag was burning with both eggs, and you heart was soaring with the prospect of seeing your child again

Vhaelar felt your nervousness and was determined to please you, you could tell that she was flying as fast as she could

You had to stop along the way, Jonaerys got fuzzy, and you admired your baby for how strong he was. 

But he was a newborn, so he quickly fell asleep again. Cregan cradled him against him, it was funny because he was being so protective over his pup, it was a face of him you really really loved. 

And finally you saw Winterfell’s towers an hour before the sun sets

Vhaelar landed heavily, she was tired, and you will compensate her for her efforts soon, but first.

You ran towards the gates which were already opened, waiting for you. 

You crossed the first gate and the bridge, and then you could see your home

Your home, Winterfell

A place for a fleeting couple of weeks you believed you were never going to see again.

Sara came outside the castle to greet you, she was so happy and relieved

The people gathered to receive you, they all seemed happy and relieved, they wanted to see their Lord, and their Lady

“I’m so glad you are alright!”, she hugged you tightly, because Cregan had Jonaerys in his arms, you hugged her back, she held you tight against her, and when she finally released you, she had tears in her eyes

And then she turned to Cregan, being clearly distracted by the bundle in his arms

“Oh, I have another nephew!”, she giggled widely, watching your baby’s face, “he looks just like you”, she said, looking back at you. Sara hugged Cregan tightly, trying not to crush his son

Cregan and you greeted all the people that were there, that had come to receive you, his master at arms, the maester of Winterfell, Thelma!

She cooed at Jonaerys in his father’s arms

“He is kissed by snow”, she said sweetly, “just like his mama!”

She hugged you both, and guided you inside the castle

You went directly to your room, you wanted to place JOnaerys in his own crib and also you needed to put the eggs by the fire.

Sara left you in your rooms, while she went to get your son, you were so nervous you couldn’t wait.

“We are home”, Cregan said, looking at you and the eggs nervously

“We are home”, you said back, with unshed tears in your eyes. “And we are going to see out child”

“Our baby boy”, he whispered with a proud smile on his face

You placed both eggs by the fire, one was dark blue with black markings, and the other was red with the same dark markings. You hoped they hatched, you thought the blue one for Rickon, and the Red one for Jonaerys

You were so excited to see Rickon, and when Sara came back, she had him in her arms… she had your son

You gasped, he had grown so much, you left a baby and you came back to a small child

“Look who it is!”, Sara said, pointing at you, Rickon turned to look at you, his purple eyes so striking, “mama and papa”

You wanted to walk towards him and hold him, Cregan, who was still holding Jonaerys, wanted that too, but Rickon’s frowned face didn’t let you.

He didn’t know who you where

It broke your heart

He didn’t reach for you

You whined in pain, as Rickon cuddled against Sara’s chest, not recognizing you, hiding from you, You felt Cregan surrounding you with one of his arms

“He doesn't know who we are”, you cried

“It will take a while”, whispered Cregan against your temple, “but he will take to us again”. He dropped a comforting kiss, as bitter tears fell down your eyes, your heart a little broken. You could tell that Cregan was containing himself too.

Then Jonaerys cried in Cregan’s arms, and that seemed to catch Rickon’s attention, he looked towards you, and he threw his little arms at you

In a daze of happiness you picked him up in your arms, as Sara passed him on to you, but his sole attention was in the bundle in his father’s arms right next to you. He sort of used you to get to him.

He leaned into them, too see his baby brother who was whining, reaching out of the mantle you kept him in

“It’s your baby brother”, you whispered to your eldest son, and to your amazement, he seemed to recognize your voice, he looked up at you with his big purple Valyrian eyes, “hello my boy”, he then cuddled against your neck, grabbing into your vest with your chubby hands

You couldn’t help but cry with happiness as you held your son against you, you had missed him so much, you left here with a three-month old and came back to a one year old, Cregan placed himself right next to you, placing your children together, in a comforting family hug.

It was finally over, all of it, all of the pain…

You were safe again. 

You were home. 

For the next few days, you were cupped up in your room, with both your babies.

Cregan at first find it endearing, but as days passed he was starting to be concerned

You wouldn’t leave your rooms

You wouldn’t leave your children out of your sight

You wouldn’t even wanted to go to the great hall to eat

You barely let Sara see you

He understands what you went through, being separated from your baby, being kidnapped… being…

But as he gazed at you, you were playing with your sons, tickling them, kissing them, making funny noises. Rickon would giggle and play back, but Jonaerys barely could focus his eyes, he was too little yet

They were your precious babies, you didn’t wanted to left them even for a minute, the very thought of being away from them brought you physical pain

You didn’t wanted to be away front hem ever again

YOu felt Cregan looking at you with his lovey eyes, even though he also looked concerned

“Something happened?”, you asked softly

“No my love”, he said gently, entering the room, sitting by your side, and he looked at the babies

Rickon reached for him and Cregan took him in his arms

Rickon had recognize you as his parents, you could feel it, and he cuddled against his father’s chest 

“The people of Winterfell want to see their lady”, he said softly, “they want to see the future of the Kingdom of the North”, he implied, the babies

You felt a little guilty 

“I’m sorry”, you whispered, now you were worrying your husband

“You have nothing to be sorry for”, he said gently, “I just want to make sure you are alright, I know you believed you were never coming back, that perhaps you were never going to see Rickon again”

“Cregan”, you called, he looked down at you, as he was standing with Rickon in his arms, and you were sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“I will take the children to Sara for a while alright?”, he asked softly, and you could never deny something to those beautiful eyes

“Yes”, you said, You helped him palace Jonaerys in his other arm, and then, he exited the room with your children

You knew you had to face your demons when he came back, you instinctively looked at your wrists

And then is how Cregan found you, he took your hands gently, gazing down at you, and then he sat by your side

“What happened here?”, Cregan asks softly, caressing the red mark in your wrists. He feared the worst

“I…”, you didn’t want to tell him, you didn’t want him to treat you like the broken thing you were, “please”, you begged, but he leaned in and kissed the mark, both your wrists

“I need you to tell me, so I can help you move past this”, he whispered, looking into your eyes

“Aemond chained me…”, you confessed, “...to the bed, after I tried to kill him and almost succeed to plunge a dagger into his heart”, he only nodded, watching the marks, but you could see the pain in his eyes, “it was only for a couple of weeks because…”, you whispered, “he then told me you were dead so I wouldn’t even move so he released me”, it broke your heart when a single tear fell down his eye

“I’m so sorry”, he whispered, kneeling in front of you, kissing your wrists endlessly 

“This isn’t your fault, if anything, it was me, I went willingly…”, you didn’t even realize you were crying

“You were trying to save us all, and you did”, he said softly, “I can’t undo what he did, but I only can promise you that nobody will harm you ever again”, he promised, looking deep into your eyes, “do you believe me?”

“I do”, you said firmly

“Nobody will harm our children”, he said then, “we won”

“I know”, you said then, with a small smile

“He is paying for what he did”, eh said then, and in that, he was trying to convince himself too, “he has no dragon, no army, no allies, nothing”, he said firmly, “he is nothing, you destroyed him”

“Yes”

“Say it”, he said

“I destroyed him”

“He harmed you, and you destroyed him”, he said firmly

“I made him pay for what he did”, you said back

“We won”, he said firmly

“We won”, you repeated, now truly sinking in.

Cregan had announced the end of the war in the great Hall, with every Lord in the proximities, those who could make it with short days of notice, and specially those who weren’t in the march

Even though the army was camping outside of King’s Landing right now, most of the northerner men within it

The greens had been defeated, and Rhaenyra reigned the Seven Kingdoms

Cregan held a feast in the hall

You knew he did it more for you, then for the reasons he claimed, since his men weren’t here. He did it so you would get out of your room and for the North to see your children, who were too small and just got fuzzy with all the noise, but still, they got to see them 

Even though the loud noises bother you

Even though when somebody move too quickly nd close to you you flinched

Even though you still could feel Aemond’s hands on you

Even though all those awful things…

The loud cries of your babies soothed you

The movements of your husband, or Sara who constantly hugged you calmed you

Cregan’s soft and gentle touch erased all those bad memories.

You had won

You were home

And nobody was ever going to hurt you again

And if they did…

They were going to face fire and blood

More notes: Shorter chapter, but because I wanted to write the reunion, even though the main "problem", is solved, I sttill want to write a couple of more chapter in this timwline before I write a couple of epilogues! we are close to the end!

Taglist

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@lyannesworld @arujee @kamisunshine @​​mss-nthng @partypoison00 @grimistangel @elleclairez @may-machin @prettykinkysoul @justagurlwithships @champomiel 

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[random-fandom1984]

PREDACON! READER IN TFA (Platonic)

●You existed long before Cybertronians gained vehicle modes and organics were things to be afraid of. ●You were the heir to the throne; it was only a few Deca-Cycles until your coronation to become the new King of the Predacons was when the Quintessons attacked the planet, and you were put in a stasis pod and sent off planet. ●You woke up to find five strange looking Predacons above you, smaller than average, no features of mighty creatures, nothing that looks like, or anywhere near, a basic Predacon. ●Their medic, named Ratchet, explained everything that happened, that was called the Great Cataclysm, and you were devastated. ●You stayed with them "To show that you were grateful for them awakening you," you say. ●You proved to be useful. Hell, you might as well be second-in-command (parent-figure) because you made sure that everyone has gotten their daily three Energon Cubes, their responsibilities/chores, gotten sleep, took care of members who were sick, scold them (*Cough, cough* Bumblebee pulling pranks, Prowl doing things on his own, Optimus neglecting his own personal needs such as eating sleeping, breaks, etc *Cough, cough*). You basically, unintentionally but not refusing the fact, that you adopted them. You don't care about how old Ratchet is, you're the oldest, and what you say goes!

Ratchet: C/n! Put me down! C/n: No, you are going to take the day off. Ratchet: But I'm *Sneezes* fine! C/n: Ratchet, you are sick. You are going to take a sick day, take a break from your duties, and that's final! And you don't get to pull the age card; I'm far older than you by a millennia's worth of time, maybe more. ●When discovering the Allspark, you were guarding it like it was the only thing holding the universe together. Hell, not even Megatron could get pass you. You were just that good, even when you didn't go all out, or it was because that he didn't know that there was a goddamn ancient Predacon on board and was caught off guard by that. ●When awakening from 50 years' worth of time in stasis, you were the only one who refused to pick a vehicle mode. One of the reasons why is because you're a Predacon, not Cybertronian; the second reason was because you didn't want to physically change your linage just to blend in, especially since you're the last of your kind. ●When they returned to the ship, Prowl was severely damaged that everyone thought he wasn't going to make it. That was until everyone found out that Bumblebee brought in a little stowaway, emphasis on little; it was a tiny human girl named Sari and her keycard got shot at by the Allspark and radiated with Allspark energy. With the newly transformed key, she used it to fix Prowl, which was a huge shocker to everyone. ●Before Starscream attacked Detroit, no person knew what you transformed into, not even Sari; not even when she gave you "puppy eyes", you didn't even crack, just saying a Predacon, like she would know that. But when he did attack, everyone, minus Optimus Prime in his crew, found out what you transformed into.

C/n: STARSCREAM! Starscream: *Turns his helm* Oh? And who are you supposed to be? Surrendering to the almighty Starscream, Leader of the Decepticons? C/n: No. I am C/n, last of the Predacons of the Great Cataclysm, heir to the throne, and I am the one who will help you MEET YOUR END! *Jumps off a roof and transforms, letting out a screech as you flew towards him in rapid speed and start beating and burning the scrap out of him*

Meanwhile

Sari: A dragon?! C/n's been a transforming dragon this whole time?! When did you guys get a dragon?! Autobots: ...What's a dragon? Sari: A giant, flying, fire-breathing lizard!

●After the battle, you had to deal with Sari being angry at you for not telling her that you were a dragon, to which you were also confused about; What the frag is a dragon?

Part 2? (There can be slice of life, getting transported to another Transformers dimension, interactions with other characters, etc.)

[girlwithadragonheart]

Chapter 14 - The Butcher

This story contains major spoilers for Dragon Age the Veilguard. Read at your own discretion!!

Kalais x Lucanis

Summary: Kalais meets with the Crows' mystery contact and things get uncomfortable for her. Spite is having new feelings he doesn't understand.

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: Swearing, the butcher makes me uncomfy, protective Lucanis, protective(possessive) Spite

A/N: This is longer than I thought it would be 0_0

Chapter 13 DATV Masterlist Chapter 15(wip)

When I woke, Lucanis was sitting on the floor in front of the chaise, his head leaned back against my thigh. I smiled softly, taking a moment to simply look at him---more relaxed than ever. Since my trip through his personal Ossuary---in his mind---he had been sleeping better, and Spite had let him. The bags under his eyes weren’t quite so heavy and the tension between his brows had eased.

I smiled softly, my hand drifting to Lucanis’s hair, fingers threading through the tousled locks. He didn’t stir at first, his breathing deep and even as I worked out a stray knot with a gentle tug. His hair was surprisingly soft, and I found myself lingering, letting the quiet of the morning settle around us like a fragile peace.

A low hum escaped him, a sound of pure contentment that caught me off guard. His brows twitched, and he shifted slightly, his head leaning into my touch like a cat seeking warmth. The corners of my mouth twitched upward as I kept up the rhythm of my fingers, brushing through his hair in soft, deliberate strokes.

“You’re enjoying this far too much,” I murmured, half to myself.

Lucanis stirred, his eyes fluttering open, still heavy with sleep. He blinked up at me, disoriented for only a moment before his lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice rough but warm, a tone that made my chest ache in ways I didn’t care to examine.

“You didn’t have to stay here all night, you know,” I said, brushing his hair back out of his face.

He tilted his head, brow furrowing slightly as he sat up a little. “I told you I would,” he replied simply, as if it were more natural than breath in his lungs.

I rolled my eyes, though the warmth in my chest spread a little further. “You could’ve at least rolled me over and taken the chaise for yourself,” I teased, smirking. “Sleeping on the floor can’t be good for the body of an assassin.”

I leaned over him slightly, threading my fingers once more through his hair, though more firmly this time, and gave a tug. He looked up at me with wide eyes, a light blush dancing across his cheeks. 

“Someone had to keep an eye on you.” His smile widened just enough to show the hint of dimples hidden by his beard, though he tried to keep his tone serious. “You’re trouble, Kalais.”

I hummed, pressing my lips to his gently, sighing as his lips molded to mine eagerly. I pulled back after a moment. “You’ve been saying that since we met. If I’m so much trouble, why stick around?”

He nipped my lower lip with his teeth. “Maybe I’ve found I like trouble.”

I couldn’t help my lips turning up in a sincere smile. For a moment, the air between us stilled, the teasing slipping away as the weight of his admittance settled in. I loosened my grip from his hair, fringers carding through the locks and scratching his scalp lightly with my nails. Lucanis’s eyes fluttered, and he hummed. I moved my hand to cradle his jaw, thumb stroking over his cheek.

The air was heavy with all the things I wanted to say. I could see in his eyes Lucanis was having the same battle with himself. I leaned in slowly, breathing his breath before kissing him. It was small at first, just a peck, but then his tongue traced my lips, and I was opening hungrily for him. 

He sat up on his knees, leaning over me, a hand falling to my waist, the other braced on the edge of the chaise. My stomach fluttered, hands falling over his chest. After a moment we pulled back, panting. 

“Next time, I’ll take the chaise,” he said with a wink, his tone lighter now.

I couldn’t help my startled laugh, and I swatted his chest with the back of my hand. “Next time, I’ll push you off it,” I retorted, though my grin gave me away.

His laughter echoed softly through the room as he offered me his hand. It was light and free like he had never been allowed to be. I was glad that I was allowed to see it.

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

“I can’t believe you’re defending them!” Jacobus shouted as we approached.

“I am not defending anyone, Jacobus,” Viago said calmly.

“You’re letting them be a part of this? My cousin died because the governor didn’t stop the Antaam from—”

“Jacobus—” Teia began.

“No,” he said. “I’m not going to stand around and listen to this. I’ll see you later.” 

He walked away as we came up to the group, facing Teia, Viago, and Governor Ivenci. “Well,” Ivenci said. “Now that that unpleasantness is dealt with… about your mysterious informant.”

“Whoever they are, they know the Antaam. And Treviso,” Viago said.

“Your message made it sound like this informant also knows where the gods are staging their ritual,” I said, propping a fist on my hip.

“Treviso does not need this troublemaker. This should be left to proper officials,” Ivenci spat as they faced me.

“It very much concerns Rook. We have a contact who offers access to the Butcher and ‘privileged information’ on the gods,” Viago replied.

“A chance to find your gods and to free the city. A prize for both our causes,” Teia added.

“Both are important,” I said. “Strong with the Crows, strong against the gods.”

“Someone else seems to think so,” Viago said carefully. “The contact knows the city and the Antaam.”

“How do you know it’s for real?” Ivenci asked him.

“They gave us patrol patterns. Dreadnought arrivals. Their information is real,” Viago responded, on hand on his hip.

“And you didn’t share this with me?” Ivenci questioned. I fought to not roll my eyes.

“The bookkeepers can bookkeep when the meeting is done,” Teia said.

“When and where do we meet?” I asked.

“They’ll be in the market,” Teia told me.

“And they asked for me? Not you or Viago.” I looked between them.

“You helped this city, and you’re helping all of Thedas,” Teria said simply. “You’ve earned respect.”

Oh. I hadn’t even thought about that. I was used to being turned away at the slightest interference. Namely the wardens before Weisshaupt. Most in authority didn’t want some inexperienced girl messing in their affairs. No matter how dire things were getting.

“We just… don’t know from whom,” Viago clarified.

“I’ll talk with this mystery contact,” I told them.

“And the rest of us will hope to not get caught in your crossfire. Again,” Ivenci said snidely. Yep, there it was. That was the attitude I was used to dealing with.

“We fight for everyone. And a chance to strike at the gods and the Antaam? It’s worth the risk,” Teia said to them before turning to me. “Good luck, Rook. See what this mysterious informant can give us.

I nodded to them before making my way out of the Cantori Diamond and to the zipline leading to the market square. Taash and Lucanis flanked me.

“So we’re supposed to meet this unknown contact? Feels like a trap,” Taash said.

“We’re fighting gods with the Crows. I’m curious who would try to trap us,” I said. “If our informant actually knows where Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain are performing their ritual, it’s worth the risk,” I told them.

“Agreed,” Lucanis answered.

We made our way through the market to the Cafe Pietra where the meeting would happen. Fingers crossed that it wasn’t a trap and nothing bad would happen. Though at this point in time, that really felt more like wishful thinking.

When I first stepped through, I was greeted with the scent of Antivan coffee and the memory of when I first came here with Lucanis. It felt like a lifetime ago. Though as I made my way down the steps, two Antaam blocked my passage.

A deep, gravelly voice greeted me. “Rook, I presume?” I felt Lucanis and Taash shift closer to me. “I thought I specified to come alone?” The voice purred.

I caught a glimpse of him past the Antaam blocking me, and my eyes widened. “The Butcher! You can’t blame a girl for a little extra security. Half of Thedas would kill to have their hand at capturing me.”

He scoffed. “There’s no need for that. Treviso is the trap, not this meeting,” he said to me and the Antaam to signal them to stand down. I carefully stepped through, examining the man. “Please,” he said, gesturing across the table from him.

I don’t care who you are, if you were faced with a mountain of a qunari man, you would do what he asked. I carefully pulled my chair out, Lucanis and Taash remained standing behind me on either side—Lucanis closer than my Rivaini companion.

“So tense,” The Butcher crooned with a grin. “I promise, I’ll signal when it’s time to fight.”

“Strange way to ambush someone,” I said carefully, folding my hands in my lap. Even sitting he was three heads taller than me.

The Butcher breathed in slowly and chuckled low and deep. “I don’t have to ‘ambush’ anyone. You think I couldn’t just march on the Crows? Scattered Antaam flock to me. I have the soldiers to raze your casino and every inch of this city.”

Lucanis was tense beside me, and I shifted carefully, leaning slightly toward him, and I sensed him relaxing only slightly. “I’ll bet there’s no profit in actually winning,” I said.

He hummed. “There’s money being made my the occupation, but not by me,” he said. “I said Treviso was the trap, and I meant it. The jewel of Antiva… she sings even while caged. Such purity in every stone. It’s trapped my heart. I love this city.”

I fought the curl of my lip in disgust. The way he was speaking made my skin crawl. Like loving it gave him the right to own it completely. That wasn’t love. I knew that better than most. “Everyone loves Treviso. Doesn’t mean you get to conquer it,” I said carefully.

“That explains why the streets crawl with undeserving cattle,” he said disgusted. “You know there are traitors here. They ransom their own city. Literal gods stalk the land, but these filth worship their own purses! But you… you’re different,” he purred. “You and the Crows stay true to your roles. It means something when you die, and even more when you kill. You’re as much a work of art as this city,” he crooned. “And you want a secret from me,” he said.

A shiver ran down my spine. I’m sure the right person would’ve been flattered, flustered even, but I was not that person. I was not something to be owned, or someone to put on a pedestal. I was just trying to survive and help others do the same.

I took a breath before speaking. “If you really do love this city, you’ll tell me where the gods are holding their ritual,” I said.

He breathed deep, his voice rumbling in his chest as he put his fists up. “The gods!” he laughed lowly. “They give strength. But all they ask in return is everything. I can feel their corruption. I can hear their whispers,” he said through gritted teeth. “They’re calling for ritual. If I give in, I’ll know where you’ll need to go. But I will lose my jewel. My city.” He stood, slamming his hands down on the table, and I flinched, feeling like a small child holding a dead cat. “So!” He grunted, short and pained. “You live in a casino! Let us make a game of this!” He growled. “I will become what the gods want, welcome their whispers!”

His hands gripped the table’s edge, throwing it to the side, knocking me and my chair aside in the process. Lucanis ran to me and pulled me up as the Butcher started rampaging.

“Meet me, and show me if the Crows deserve my city!”

Taash pulled her axes and charged the two guard Antaam. I summoned flames beneath them as Taash melted their shields. Lucanis took them out from behind, and we ran after the Butcher.

I heard his taunting calls across the city. “Come, Rook! I wait among the Drowned!” We sprinted through the market toward the Drowned District. “The gods gnaw at my mind! I see what you need! Prove you deserve it!”

“Hear the shift in his voice? He’s changing!” I warned my companions.

“My city, my Treviso! I will not abandon you to the traitors who gave you to me!”

We sprinted to the worst part of the drowned district, getting there just in time to see the Butcher transforming. He became a reaver, and he was fighting his own Antaam. 

“That thing cannot answer questions,” Lucanis said behind me.

“We have to hope he’s still in there somewhere,” I said.

On top of having to fight the Butcher himself—now even bigger and harder to kill—there were also about twenty Antaam swarming the area who were trying to take us out also. Suffice to say there was a lot of dodging happening and only getting hits in where I could—when I was sure I wasn’t about to be cut or ripped in half. 

I couldn’t tell you how long we were in the battle, but it had to have been a long time with how my body cried for rest. If I couldn’t even take down the Butcher as a godsdamned reaver, how was I supposed to face the gods?

Doubts swarmed my mind, and I missed a blow with my dagger. The glaive the Antaam across from me wielded sliced through the gap in my armor just below my ribs, and I cried out, tears filling my eyes immediately.

“Rook!” I heard Lucanis yell. 

“I’m fine, just take the bastards down!” I yelled, holding my hand over the wound. It came away warm and wet with blood. I yelled in outrage, holding up a fist and pulling down a meteor on the Antaam in front of me. “Fucking cunt, that hurt!”

All the Antaam around us were finally dead, leaving only the Butcher. I saw Taash running and dodging as he targeted her. Good, I thought. Let me get him while his back is turned.

“I’m tired of this game, Butcher!” I yelled, a ball of fire growing between my palms as I poured my energy into it. Everything that was left in my reserves was going into this shot. If I missed, I would be left to either pass out or resort to melee range. Neither seemed like a good idea at the moment.

I sprinted, climbing atop one of the broken buildings as I chased him. “Spite!” I yelled out. A piece of brick from the Fade appeared in front of me, and I leaped, landing and running. More appeared in front of me as I went, the flaming monstrosity in my hands continuing to grow.

I was probably twenty feet above the battlefield now, and I continued to run after him, the flames in my hands flickering. 

“Taash!” I yelled, and they dodged behind cover as I loosed my magic at him.

The Butcher screamed as the flames consumed him, eating through his blight-flesh. “Tearstone Island!” He yelled. “That’s… where the gods are…” He struggled out.

The platform beneath me rumbled, Spite struggling to hold onto it. My stomach flipped as I fell, the world beneath me disappearing as I plummeted. I closed my eyes and braced for impact, though it came sooner than I expected.

I opened my eyes, and I was soaring parallel to the ground, Lucanis’s arms around me. “I’ve got you,” he said. I laughed, the motion bringing sharp pain to my midsection, and I winced. He frowned. “Tesoro…”

“I’m okay,” I reassured him. “We’ll worry about it at the Lighthouse.” I put my hand over the wound, healing it enough to keep me from bleeding out. If I expended too much magic now I wouldn’t be of any use to them for days. The price of power, I supposed. Not that I wanted it.

We landed safely on the ground, and Lucanis helped me on my feet, keeping a steadying hand on my hip.

“He’s gone,” I said as Taash came over to us. “And he named the ritual site. Tearstone Island.”

“Huh,” Taash said. “An Antaam who kept his word. Guess Treviso really rubbed off on him.”

“He got the death he wanted. Good trade, I guess.” I shrugged. “And he gave us the information we came for.”

“Yes. Truly, the Butcher was a paragon of honor and virtue, and we are all devastated to see him go.” A voice rang out over the battlefield, and I looked up, seeing a familiar pissed off face.

“Ivenci.” My lip curled in disgust. They stood with two Antaam flanking them.

“And now you have a location for your final, pointless confrontation. The gods are at Tearstone Island. Isn’t that what you wanted? A chance to die a hero’s death? So go. Leave Treviso to those who deserve it,” they spat.

Oh, fuck off. “The Butcher did warn us about a traitor. Didn’t get a chance to name them, though. Thanks for confirming that for us, Ivenci.”

“Given how much that man talked, I’m shocked he actually kept his mouth shut,” they said.

“You sold Treviso out to the Antaam,” I put my hands on my hips.

“I did what was best for Treviso,” they argued. “Who else would have done what was necessary? That troupe of fools in the casino? They would have provoked the Antaam to slaughter. The kind they carried out in every other Antivan city they crossed! I gave them the Crows, so they would not take the rest of the city. I gave them an inch, so they would not take a mile.”

“How’re the Antaam holding up their end of the bargain, Governor?” I questioned. “Not too well, from what I’ve seen. And now they’re working with the gods. You didn’t prevent slaughter. You just postponed it,” I spat back at them.

“If you hadn’t killed the Butcher—”

“Someone else would have. He decided he wasn’t their pawn anymore. The gods would have killed him. And then you would be ruled by someone much, much worse.” I put my hands on my hips.

“You should have been a politician, Rook,” they gave a disbelieving chuckle. “Instead of… well. Whatever it is you are, besides an annoyance. But this city is mine. We need a real leader. You know who else wants a leader? The Antaam. And if someone plays the role they want, they are very accepting. They also understand that bringing order to Treviso requires the purging of disruptive elements that cause nothing but chaos. So go to Tearstone Island. Have your little showdown with the gods. Fight your pointless battle. And leave this city to me.”

I flipped him the bird, shouting up to the rooftop. “For how much you despise the Butcher talking, you sure like to listen to yourself. Suck a cock, Ivenci. Though maybe that’s how the Antaam got here in the first place.”

“You little—”

“Let’s go, guys,” I said, turning away from him and walking back through Treviso to the Diamond.

Every movement pained the wound in my gut, but I ignored it. Lucanis was watching me, I could feel his gaze. We would talk later. Right now, I just needed to get to Teia and Viago so I could go home and pass out for a few days.

“Why would you— I said to make poison not this… slime,” Viago said, irritated. “Idiot, have you learned nothing?”

I saw a younger crow standing in front of Viago and Teia. “Oh hush, you’re too hard on her,” Teia said.

“She needs to learn,” Viago replied.

The girl with maroon hair and blue eyes looked between them. “I think poison might not be my strong suit,” she said.

He cut her off, clicking his tongue. “It will be. Go practice until it’s perfect. You wouldn’t be able to poison anyone with… this,” he said with disgust.

“Sorry, Viago.”

Teia put a hand on her shoulder as she spotted us. “Ah, good. You’ll get it, dear. Come see me later, I’ll give you some pointers.”

Viago scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You’re too soft.”

I smiled at the girl as I passed her, and her eyes went slightly wide. “You’re Rook, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I didn’t know my name was so popular.”

“Of course it is, you saved the city!” She exclaimed.

I tilted my head. “What’s your name?”

“Niamh. Niamh de Riva,” she told me.

“Viago’s protegee?” Lucanis asked, running a hand over his beard. “I’d heard he took you in, I didn’t realize… So much time.” Lucanis sighed.

I frowned, putting a comforting hand on his arm. Niamh looked between us before glancing down at her failed science experiment. “You’re bleeding!” She said quickly. 

I put a hand over my wound. “Not anymore, I’m fine.” I glanced up and saw Viago scowling at Niamh, and I chuckled. “You better go before Viago has my head for keeping you.”

“Oh, right,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s more likely to have mine, don’t worry.”

“It was nice to meet you, Niamh. I look forward to seeing your perfected poison,” I winked as she scampered off, laughing a bit.

“You’re amazing,” Lucanis said quietly, squeezing my hip. I felt my cheeks warm, and I walked over to the two Talons.

“Ivenci is the traitor. He sold Treviso out to the Antaam,” I told them.

“It makes sense now. Every decision they made shows it,” Teia said.

“The other officials of course know nothing,” Viago replied.

“Of course. I’m surprised they even remember the governor’s name.”

“The Butcher’s dead,” I said.

“And in his place is the traitor we knew was lurking. And the Antaam fell in line?” Teia questioned.

“Ivenci is apparently playing the role they want,” I told her.

“The Governor has given them a clear purpose. They were more cunning than I thought,” Viago said.

“Something always bothered me about Ivenci,” I said, crossing my arms carefully over my chest.

“Many things bothered me about Ivenci. Yet I did not spot the most important one,” Teia said with hands on her hips.

“This wasn’t a failure,” Viago told me. “You gave us the name we needed.”

“The hand that leashed Treviso. The Butcher was the mouth, but the hand was Ivenci all along,” Teia said. “They think they have power in the Antaam, and a network doing their will.”

“But we have the face of our enemy.”

“Ivenci will be in hiding, so we will hound their Antaam and make them desperate.”

“When the governor shows themselves again… we end this,” Viago finished.

“We’ll stop Ivenci,” I affirmed.

“The gods. Did you learn where they will be?” He asked.

“Tearstone Island. Ivenci confirmed it before they left,” I said.

“We know the time to face Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain approaches, but it will not take us long to find Ivenci,” Teia told me.

“You have been our ally through all this. It would be an honor to have your help against the Governor again,” Viago said. It was high praise coming from him. Especially after seeing how he interacted with his protegee.

“We’ll let you know when we’ll make our move,” Teia told me. “And after that? Treviso will be free.”

—------------------

The trek back to the Lighthouse was slower than I’d have liked. My ribs throbbed with every step, a constant reminder of the glaive that had sliced through my armor. Taash had given me a once-over when I healed myself just enough to stop the bleeding, but we both knew I needed proper bandaging before the night was through.

The debrief felt like a blue. Viago and Taash went back and forth, strategizing the next steps while Teia murmured her agreement from the corner. Lucanis stayed uncharacteristically quiet, his hand brushing mine once when I swayed slightly on my feet. I glanced at him, but his face was unreadable, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the room.

By the time conversation wound down, exhaustion had sunk into my bones. I excused myself with a weak smile, heading to the room I’d claimed for myself in the Lighthouse. It wasn’t much, but it was quiet, and for the moment, that was enough.

I eased the door shut behind me and leaned heavily against it, letting out a shaky breath. My hand drifted to my side, fingers brushing against the sticky remnants of blood where the wound had reopened slightly during the walk back. I grimaced and began unbuckling my armor, wincing as each piece came free.

The soft sound of a knock startled me. I straightened as best I could, clutching my side. “Come in,” I called.

Lucanis pushed the door open, stepping inside with a healer’s kit in hand. His brow furrowed as his gaze swept over me, taking in the discarded armor and the bloodstain seeping through my undershirt. “You should’ve told me it got worse,” he said, shutting the door behind him.

“I was going to take care of it,” I said defensively, though the sting in my middle begged to differ.

He shook his head and stepped closer, setting the kit down on the small table. “Sit,” he ordered, his voice gentle but firm.

I sighed and obeyed, perching on the edge of the bed. Lucanis knelt in front of me, his hands deft as he opened the kit. 

“You’ll need to take off your shirt,” he said without looking at me.

Heat crept up my neck, but I nodded, tugging the hem of my shirt over my head as carefully as I could. The motion sent a fresh wave of pain through my ribs, and I hissed softly, biting back a curse.

Lucanis’s jaw tightened as he took in the wound. “This should’ve been wrapped hours ago,” he muttered, pulling out a roll of bandages and a small vial of salve.

“It wasn’t exactly convenient at the time,” I said dryly, though the sharp edge of sarcasm fell flat when his fingers brushed my skin. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he cleaned the wound, the cool salve soothing the sting.

The silence between us stretched. I couldn’t help but notice how close he was, the faint scent of him---leather, smoke, and coffee---filling the small space. His hands moved with practiced ease, but his eyes flicked up to meet mine, and the intensity of his gaze stole whatever words I might’ve said.

“I didn’t like the way he looked at you,” Lucanis said suddenly, his voice low.

I blinked, startled by the shift in tone. “Who? The Butcher?”

His jaw clenched, and he nodded. “The way he spoke to you. Like you were something to possess.”

I exhaled slowly, dropping my gaze. “I’ve dealt with men like him before. It’s nothing new.”

“That doesn’t make it right.” His voice was quieter now, but there was an edge to it, like the simmering heat of a forge.

I glanced back at him, my breath catching slightly as I realized how close he was. His hand rested lightly on my hip, steadying me as he secured the bandage, but the warmth of his touch sent a shiver up my spine.

“I don’t like people thinking they can claim you,” he murmured, almost too softly to hear.

Something in his tone made my pulse quicken. I searched his face for some kind of answer, but all I found was the same intensity that had always been there, now burning hotter.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Lucanis,” I said quietly. “I can handle myself.”

His lips quirked in a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know you can. Doesn’t mean I won’t worry.”

He finished wrapping the bandage, his hand lingering as he traced lines on my exposed skin below, sending shivers over me. He caught my eyes and pulled back.

“There,” he said, clearing his throat and stepping back. “That should hold for now. Just… don’t push yourself too hard.”

I nodded, reaching for my clean rest shirt. “Thanks.”

He turned toward the door, hesitating for just a moment before looking back at me. “Get some rest, Kalais. We’ve got a long road ahead.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving me alone with the lingering warmth of his touch and the steady thrum of my racing heart.

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

The Fade crept in softly at first, moving like the tide---shadows stretching long and thin, shapes warping and curling in ways they shouldn’t. Then came the feeling. That familiar pull, a tug in my gut like I was a puppet on a string, or a dog on a leash being led forward.

And I don’t know how, but I knew.

“Rook,” his voice purred from somewhere behind me. Low and full of that mocking purr I’d grown fond of.

I turned slowly, meeting the glowing purple form of Lucanis, a familiar form in this unfamiliar place. Though he rippled as though there was chaos beneath, claws and jagged angles that flickered out of sight. He grinned upon seeing me.

“Hello, Mischief,” I smiled, taking a few steps forward. “You dragged me here, didn’t you?”

He tilted his head, the motion almost animalistic, and began circling me in that slow, deliberate way of his that he used to study me. “Dragged?” he echoed, feigning hurt. “No, no. Called, maybe. You---” He gestured toward me, his hand flexing idly. “You bring yourself here. To me.”

“I did?”

His grin widened as he stepped closer, the Fade around him bending and twisting like it couldn’t decide how to hold him. His gaze darted over me. “You let him touch you.” His eyes narrowed and his grin faltered. Spite’s voice was clearer in the Fade. His sentences more complete.

“Who?” I asked. “Lucanis?”

Spite scoffed, shaking his head as though the name itself annoyed him. “No. Him. The Butcher.” His voice dripped with venom, and his form flickered, growing darker, his fingers twitching. “He looked at you. Spoke to you like…” He growled low, sharp and guttural, as though words weren’t enough to express his anger.

I blinked, for once unsure of what to say. “Mischief, I didn’t have a choice. I had to meet him—”

“No! You always have a choice,” he snapped, cutting me off. His voice cracked with something I couldn’t place, something raw. “You let him think… he could own you. He doesn’t get to look at you like that. You’re—”

His voice broke off, and his hands twitched again. “You’re not… his.”

I stared at him, his anger filling the space between us, oppressive and suffocating. But beneath it, I saw the confusion, the flickers of something else he didn’t understand.

“Spite,” I said softly, stepping toward him. His form shifted, pulling back slightly, but I pressed on. “Why does it bother you so much? That he looked at me. Spoke to me.”

His hands flexed, the crease between his brows deepening as his face curled in discomfort. “Don’t ask me. Don’t… do that.” His voice wavered, though he forced a growl to cover it. “I don’t know. I don’t know!”

“You don’t know what you’re feeling?” I asked gently.

He sneered, though it lacked its usual sharpness. “Feelings. Stupid things. Useless. They don’t… they don’t fit.” His voice grew quieter, almost lost. “But I—”

He stopped, turning his head sharply as if looking away might stop the words from spilling out. “I don’t like it. When you hurt. When they… when they try to hurt you.” His voice cracked again, and his hands flexed uselessly at his sides.

The ache in my ribs seemed small compared to the heaviness of the space between us now. “Mischief,” I said stepping closer still. “That’s not useless. That’s… that’s care. You’re feeling care, maybe even love. It’s complicated, but it’s not bad.”

He scoffed, his grin returning, though it was forced. “Love? Ha. No. I don’t… No.”

“It’s okay to feel new things,” I told him quietly, taking his hand. “It’s part of you now. Part of who you’ve become.”

He tilted his head again, his grin faltering. “Care,” he repeated, like he was testing the word on his tongue. His fingers twitched in my grasp. “For you?”

I nodded. “For me.”

He didn’t speak for a long moment, the smoke of the Fade drifting off of him into the darkness. “Stupid thing,” he muttered finally. “Stupid you. Always making this… mess.”

I smiled faintly. “It’s not a mess. It’s just… new for you.”

He scoffed again, his hands flexing as he looked down at where I held them. “New. Stupid. But…” His voice dropped, quieter than I’d ever heard it. “You shouldn’t hurt. Not like this. Not… ever.”

The admission landed between us like a fragile thing, and for once, I saw something softer beneath the sharp edges of him. Something even he didn’t fully understand. 

“I’ll be careful,” I said quietly. “I promise.”

His grin returned, warmer this time, and I saw a flicker of something less harsh in his eyes. “You better,” he said. “Or I’ll… drag you here again. Teach you a lesson.”

I couldn’t help the faint laugh that escaped me, though it was more tired than amused. “I’ll hold you to that, Mischief.” My lips turned up in a small smirk at the implications he probably didn’t even understand or even think about.

He said nothing, but I planted a kiss on his cheek as the Fade began to shift and pull away. As I drifted into the darkness, I saw fondness in my Mischief’s grin.

A/N: Ft. @fshenkoescape 's Crow, Niamh De Riva!

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The White-Scaled Dragon Princess Part 2

Part 1

You have found yourself a home in the new land, far away from Westeros and those who would wish harm upon you and your dragon. But then you face new types of challenges when you befriend a Noldor prince. Can you trust him and find a long-lasting friend in him? Will you ever overcome your fear of the world around you? Will you ever share your painful past with him? And could you possibly even find yourself in love with the said prince?

Warnings: mentions of injuries, passing out, Meraxes frightening people, reader being socially awkward, fear of people, Fingon being a tease and charming, Meraxes trying to kill Fingon a couple of times, heavy angst, anxiety, self-hatred, self-harm, reader needs serious therapy, reader trying to overcome her fears, adventuring, comfort, Fingon being caring, mentions of depression, and a happy ending.

(Note: I tagged those, who wanted to be tagged in the previous part)

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

- Three years had passed since you arrived in Middle Earth. 

- You had found a new home with an elderly woman named Ioreth, who had saved your life when your injuries from your fall became too much for you, and you lost consciousness. 

- Meraxes was the one to find her after you fell unconscious and possibly scared her into helping you. Luckily, Ioreth did not seem to mind treating you even though the dragon kept a careful guard and growled if she made sudden movements.  

- You were first scared of her when you woke up, thinking she saw you as a monster and prepared to leave as soon as possible, but Ioreth then fed you and asked for your story, showing no sign of hatred or fear toward you. 

- Feeling somewhat hopeful and trusting, you told her your story and how you got injured during a fall. To your surprise, she showed sympathy, and despite having been threatened to help you by your mountain-sized dragon, she offered a place in her home for you. 

- She had seen stranger creatures, so she was not much phased by your scales. And you were nearly the same age as her granddaughter, so she would only feel awful if she sent you away. 

- You nearly wanted to cry for her kindness. For your whole life, you believed no one would think twice before chasing you away and calling you a monster. And here was this elderly woman, who offered you a place in her home despite having been threatened by your dragon and knowing you only for a day. 

- And thus, you began to help her with the everyday chores, wanting to make yourself use for her. You would help her with the cleaning and the gathering of herbs as she was an experienced healer. 

- You might have shown over-eagerness to help her with everything as she snapped at you that she was not so old that she needed someone to gather her every need. 

- You felt ashamed, thinking you had overstepped and annoyed her, but then she comforted you and calmly explained that you could leave the house chores to her while you could deal with things that needed walking and traveling. You agreed to the arrangement, and you began to get comfortable with your new life. 

- You did find her home interesting since her house was built in the mountains, away from the nearby town. Ioreth explained she was not very fond of people and liked the peace of the mountains, which you partially understood, and it also worked for you since it meant you could stay near Meraxes. 

- When you recovered and decided to live with Ioreth, Meraxes found herself a cave in another part of the mountains, away from the town, but not too far that you wouldn’t be able to come visit her. 

- You incidentally made friends with Ioreth’s grandaughter, Freda, who was one of the only ones in their family eager to visit Ioreth whenever she liked. 

- You first tried to avoid her when she came to visit Ioreth. You did not want to cause Ioreth trouble by frightening her grandaughter and making the townspeople think she lived with a monster. But then you accidentally dumped on Freda without your cloak, and her reaction was not what you expected. 

- She reacted to you surprisingly well. She marveled the white scales that adorned your scales, touching them and tracing each line with her fingers. It was slightly overwhelming as you are not used to someone touching your scales like that. She stopped when Ioreth smacked her in the head and called her out for touching you without your permission. 

- She apologized and then started asking questions. You couldn't quite keep up with her questions but tried your best to answer all of them. 

- She then declared herself as your friend when you told her you did not have any friends in the mountain besides Ioreth. You were baffled by her because you had never met someone who just decided to be your friend after knowing you only for a day, but soon you became happy about it as she became one of your best friends. 

- You adored her eccentrics and how many things she had to say. She was so full of life, and you do not think you ever had a friend that was someone of your age. Even the new maids you were given did not talk so much to you. On the contrary, they never spoke more than three words whenever you tried to converse with them. 

- But despite your newfound friendship with Freda, you decided not to introduce her to Meraxes. She might have accepted you, but you did not want to risk her getting scared by your beloved dragon and have the whole town chase you away. Ioreth promised to keep it a secret, understanding your fear. 

- But you did agree to visit the town with Freda’s encouragement. 

- She wanted you to meet the rest of the family. You felt fearful of the idea of being seen by the townspeople, but you agreed as long as you got to keep your scales hidden by your cloak and the gloves she had gifted you. 

- It was unnerving to have so many eyes on you when you walked through the town with Freda. You followed her like a lost child, but you tried to push yourself and see things you never allowed yourself to see outside the walls of your home. 

- Freda’s family was kind to you and showed gratitude when they heard you decided to keep company to Ioreth, the stubborn woman refusing to live in the town with them after her husband's death. 

- Their welcoming presence felt comforting, and to your surprise, they did not get upset or pressure you to uncover yourself when you told them you felt more comfortable being covered by your cloak. They were respectful and assured you they would patiently wait until you felt comfortable showing yourself to them.

- You honestly did not know what to make of it, but their assurance made you eager to visit them more often. 

- After two years of getting to know Freda’s family, you decided to take the next step and show yourself to them. With your permission, Freda told them of your unique condition, and with enough prepping, you finally revealed your scales to them. 

- They were surprised when you showed them your white scales, and for a moment, you prepared to face rejection and run out of the house, but then you were surprised by their acceptance. They welcomed you wholeheartedly and praised the beauty they did not expect you to have. 

- Their constant praising left you flustered as you had never heard anyone call you beautiful— you were used to people staring at you and calling you unnatural. But, you rejoiced in their acceptance and now felt like you were part of the family. 

- They even offered you to stay with them. You felt touched by the offer but expressed your desire to remain with Ioreth, and they respected your decision. But you became comfortable showing yourself inside their home. 

- After three years had passed, you found yourself happy and having learned much about the world around you. 

- It was shocking to realize that no one knew about Westeros and that creatures such as orcs and gods called the Valar existed. The three imposing mountains you saw in the distance were called Thangorodrim, and the graceful beings you encountered were called the Elves. It was a lot to take in, but the only reasonable explanation you could muster was that you had somehow traveled to another world.

- You would have deemed yourself mad if you hadn't experienced your new life. Feeling a kind of happiness knowing it meant safety from Jaeherys and those who sought your demise, yet also a tinge of sadness, realizing you would never know the fate of your father. 

- You could only guess he had either been killed or executed.

- After three months into the new year, Meraxes suddenly fell ill. She exhibited reduced energy, ate less, and appeared noticeably grumpier than usual. Perplexed by the sudden change in behavior, you sought advice from Ioreth, who suggested that she might have ingested something that caused her illness, having seen similar symptoms in animals like pigs and cows.

- Ioreth had a medicine, but since Meraxes was bigger than any pig or cow, she would need to take a larger amount. 

- You were worried for Meraxes, and around the corner was a celebration held by the town.

-  Freda had urged you to join in. Despite your hesitation, you didn’t have the heart to deny her invitation, especially when Ioreth was joining the party too. It was somewhat exciting as you had never attended a party that wasn’t held in your home or by your father. 

- It was a type of celebration where the people would dress up and put paint on their faces to pay tribute to the Valars, so Freda suggested you would come to the party with your scales and additional paint. 

- You didn’t feel comfortable with the idea, but when her younger siblings asked if they could do your hair and put the pain on you, you couldn’t bring yourself to refuse them. 

- Freda and her mother seized the opportunity to pick out a dress for you, leaving you with no room to refuse as they were eager to dress you up for the occasion. It was a lovely dress that complemented well with your red cloak, which Freda insisted you wear instead of your usual green one. The combination popped out your scales, and Freda’s siblings did a wonderful job on your hair. 

- They had also painted your face with beautiful white lines and designs that perfectly complemented the scales on your skin.

- You nearly mistook yourself for a mystical being and even found yourself beautiful. Freda and her family did not waste the opportunity to dress you for the celebration. 

- You were still nervous when the night of the party arrived, but as Freda said, most of the town people had dressed up and painted their faces with colors. No one seemed to have suspected a thing when you walked outside with Freda, your scales showing and everything. On the contrary, you received many compliments and admiring looks when people realized you were Freda’s strange hooded friend. 

- For the time in your life, you had fun at a party, watching people dance, playing songs, and eating a large variety of foods. 

- You mostly stuck with Freda or any of her family members during the celebration as you didn’t possess strong social skills to talk with people. 

- You then noticed there were also elves in the party. It was a rare sight since elves did not often visit human towns. 

- Freda explained they were part of the Noldor. The age of peace had flourished since Morgoth had hidden himself away in his northern fortress, so the elves would always join a party whenever a chance occurred. 

- You curiously observed the partying elves. It was curious to see them, and for a moment, your attention was taken by an elf who had braids and what seemed to be golden ribbons in his hair. He was quite handsome. His raven locks were nearly as dark as the night sky above you, and it seemed he enjoyed the party the most out of his kin. 

- When it was time for a dance, you stood on the sidelines and watched. You liked it that way since you had never been lucky to be asked to dance before, so you never truly learned how to dance. Unknowns to you, you had caught the attention of the elf with the golden ribbons. 

- Fingon, the energetic Noldor prince, had joined the party upon change, wanting to escape the court and his duties for one night. He enjoyed parties, and the Edain always knew how to throw an interesting one. He felt pity he couldn’t celebrate it like he used to with his siblings and cousins, but as long as it took his mind away from the darker things of the world— it was enough. 

- He was in the midst of conversation and drinks with some friends till his gaze landed upon you. He nearly didn't believe his eyes. To him, you were drop-dead gorgeous. The red cloak made you stand out, but the white paint and the scale resembling stones that adorned your skin sparkled like diamonds. It was like Aule himself had dressed you in the earth’s finest jewels, and if it weren't for your rounded ears and your somewhat ordinary demeanor, Fingon might have mistaken you for a beautiful princess or even a Maia.

- Fingon was teased when his friends caught him staring at you and told him to go talk to you since he was clearly captivated by you. 

- He only laughed them off but decided to follow their advice and approach you. 

- You were startled when he suddenly came to you, and with his gentle yet teasing voice, he started talking. 

- “Now, what would a lovely maiden like yourself be doing here all alone while others have fun dancing? Is the party not to your liking?” Fingon questioned teasingly. 

“No… it's just,” you hesitated to answer. Fingon was captivated by your quiet yet soft voice and even more when he saw your violet eyes. 

“I’ve never been much of a dancer, and I enjoy watching others having fun,” you finally answered. 

- Enamored, Fingon continued conversing with you, complimenting your appearance. While you were somewhat charmed by his praise, you couldn't help but tease him. He was one head shorter than you, something you didn't expect when he approached you. He seemed a lot taller in the distance. 

- Fingon found your shyness and wit endearing, and he continued to keep you company. He introduced himself, mentioning that he was the first prince of the High King Fingolfin.

- “I’m (Name), the daughter of the ki—” you quickly stopped, realizing what you were about to say. Fingon introduced himself in a manner familiar to those in the court that the etiquette came back naturally to you.

Fingon looked at you curiously. 

“Just (Name), daughter of a simple man,” you fixed yourself with a fake smile. 

- Luckily, Fingon seemed to have bought it, and you two then spent a fun night together, talking and joining some games. It was perhaps one of the only times you did not wish for a party to end. 

- When the night came to an end, you two bid farewell to each other. Fingon felt shame that he had to leave so soon after meeting you. He would have enjoyed getting to know you more and then placed a kiss on the back of your hand as a goodnight. Your poor heart nearly exploded out of your chest by the act. You had never received such courtesy before, and you felt slightly ashamed that he was not kissing mere decorations on your hand but your actual scales. 

- Freda teased you endlessly when you told her what had happened and how much fun you had talking with Fingon. You tolerated her jests through the night until the morning arrived. 

- You considered going to the place where you had heard the elves spend the night in hopes of seeing Fingon again but decided to go to the mountains when Ioreth told you that she had prepared the medicine for Meraxes. 

- You took your red cloak as your green cloak was at Ioreth’s house, then made your way to the mountain with Meraxes’s medicine. You two decided you would try to give Meraxes her medicine through a piece of meat since food was one of the only ways to convince someone to take their medicine.  

- When you reached Meraxes’s cave, she was already waiting for you there. You greeted her, then handed her the meat you carried in your basket, letting her eat it from your hand and watching as the medicine seemed to have taken effect. She looked more lively and even asked for more.  

- Relief washed over you as you gave her pets, but unknown to you, someone had followed you to her den. 

- Fingon, who was preparing to leave with his kin, wanted to try to see you one last time before he had to return home. However, when he saw you leave your friend's home and make your way toward the mountains, he became worried since orcs and other creatures alike could be found hiding there. So, he followed you, only to be startled when he found you standing in front of a giant silver-scaled dragon. 

- It had been ages when he last saw the ferocious golden dragon, Glaurung, and the fact that this dragon was bigger and had wings was enough to make him call out to you and draw out his bow. 

- Meraxes was quick to go defensive and roar at the intruder. 

- You were momentarily stunned as you had no idea someone had followed you to the mountain. 

- Meraxes lunged at Fingon with her jaws open, but Fingon was quick to roll to the side, narrowly avoiding being bitten whole. Recovering swiftly, he drew his bow again, ready to aim for her one remaining eye.

- “No!” You yelled, pushing his bow away so that his arrow only struck Meraxes in the snout, aggravating her even further. 

- You then saw how Meraxes’s jaws began to glow with the familiar fiery glow. She was intending to burn Fingon alive. 

- Meraxes was protective and stubborn enough to ignore your orders, so the only thing you could come up with to save the elf was to grab him and run to the edge of the cliff. Meraxes released her flames, but luckily, you were quick enough to jump over the edge and slide down the hill before her flames could touch you. However, now you were sliding hard against the cliff wall with a far drop beneath you. 

- Your claws helped you keep a tight grip on Fingon and slow down your fall, but then you lost your hold, and you both rolled down the hill before you finally reached the bottom, surrounded by forest. 

- You both groaned in pain as you both suffered some cuts and bruises, but then you recovered when Fingon picked himself up and urged you to come with him before your dragon could find you again. 

- You were quick to explain that she was your friend and she only attacked because he was an intruder to her territory. Fingon was confused, and you had to go into details about how she was your steed and that you had her since childhood. 

- He only seemed more confused, questioning why you would want to harbor a creature of Morgoth. 

- You then explained that she was not one of Morgoth’s creatures and that you both were from somewhere where dragons were common and could be received as steeds. You then revealed that the scales on your skin were no decor but actual scales, things you had been born with. 

- Fingon seemed to believe you since he did saw how you used your claws to slow down the fall. 

- To your frustration, you found yourselves on the other side of the mountains, far from the town and other people. Fortunately, you were gifted with a keen sense of smell, so you began leading Fingon back to the other side by following the scent of people. Despite the long walk and climbing, you didn't deem it safe to summon Meraxes. She would most likely try to kill the elf again if you did. 

- Fingon started questioning about your origins and everything related to Meraxes and your scales.

- You tried to answer all his questions and assure him that you were not in league with Morgoth and that you came from a different place, a place he would most likely not find on maps.  

- It took you half a day to finally find your way back to the other side, but before Fingon could leave to join his kin, you stopped him and pleaded with him to remain quiet about you and Meraxes. 

- Fingon felt conflicted as it was one of his duties to tell what was happening on his father’s lands, but then you told him how you and your dragon had already lived three years without an incident and that you had nowhere else to go if you and Meraxes got chased away. 

- You begged and even told him you would do anything as long as you could stay in your new home. 

- Fingon felt a tug in his heart as you were sincere and looked like you were on the brink of tears. You saved him from the dragon but also loved the said dragon enough that you would choose to leave with it rather than abandon it. 

- It was a complicated situation, and all he could tell you was he would let you know what he would decide to do with the knowledge and then left. 

- Anxiety and troubled thoughts had haunted you ever since that day. 

- It had only been three days since the incident, and you were already considering packing your things and leaving with Meraxes while you still had the chance. Ioreth tried to comfort you after hearing about the incident, but nothing seemed to work to calm down the paranoia that cribbled you from within. 

- The thoughts became more terrible, and you started beating yourself for allowing such a mistake to happen. 

- It even got to the point where you ended up with a manic panic attack and started scratching the scales off your arm, trying to trim them away. 

- The lingering hatred you felt towards the scales resurfaced, driving you to scratch at them until the ground was covered in white, bloodied scales, and your arms were left bleeding from the numerous cuts and spots where the scales had once been.

- You would then silently cry and then clean up the mess before Ioreth could notice and get worried for you. 

- With Fingon, he struggled to decide what to do. On one hand, he knew he shouldn't keep something like this hidden from his father and people. However, upon further reflection, he realized he didn't want anything bad to happen to you. Dragons were primarily associated with Morgoth, and given your half-dragon nature, it was likely that you would be ostracized or even chased away if the people learned about you.

- Fingon could tell that you were not lying about the things you said, and he felt a little awful when he remembered the desperate look on your face. Would he only be damning your life if he told your secret? You had not done anything suspicious yet, so maybe…

- Shaking his head, he then came to a difficult decision.

- After the fourth day, as you were helping Ioreth do some stitching, Fingon came to visit you. You were surprised as he had come alone and not with a mob of people like you had first expected. 

- Fingon suggested a deal since you did save him from your dragon’s flames and helped him return to his kin. He would keep silent about you and your dragon, but to ensure nothing unexpected would happen, he would come to visit and monitor you. 

- You accepted the deal without a second thought. It felt reasonable to you and it meant you got to stay with Ioreth. 

- Fingon then began asking questions. He inquired about your homeland, your parents, and the reason for your stay in Hithlum. You answered honestly, sharing details about your background but omitting the parts about Westeros being in another world, your royal status as a former princess, as well as the circumstances involving your cousin and your need to escape.

- He also had strange questions, like if you could breathe fire and fly. They were the only questions that baffled you, but since Freda had asked similar questions on your first meeting— you were not bothered by them. 

- You could not breathe fire to your knowledge, neither were you born with wings. The only special features you had were that you could see very well in the dark, had a keen sense of smell, and were physically stronger than an average man. 

- The day went by quickly, with you answering his questions about you and Meraxes until it was time for him to depart. You thanked him continuously, trying to show gratefulness for his decision to keep your secret. 

- He seemed sincere and told you to expect him to come for another visit soon enough before sending him off. 

- The heavyweight from your mind was momentarily lifted. You were good at telling when people were lying, and Fingon was sincere through and through, so you did not have to worry if you could trust him. 

- He visited once a week. Fingon questioned a lot about Meraxes and then about you. It seemed like he was trying to monitor your every move, but he quickly softened up, and you two started talking about yourselves. Well, you mostly listened to him talk about his life and what his family was like. You had very few good things you wanted to share with him, and you did not want to ruin the good mood he often brought with your sad life. 

- You did fill out his curiosity when he asked about Meraxes and why she was so protective of you, and he seemed to have possessed some pity for the dragon when you told him how her previous rider died on her back. 

- However, you decided letting the two meet each other again wasn’t a good idea, especially after what happened last time. You did suggest that Fingon would leave you a glove or something with his scent on it so you could try to get Meraxes used to it and avoid further incidents. Reluctantly, he agreed to the plan for the greater good. Unfortunately, Meraxes proved to be difficult, only growling at the scent and huffing away when you tried to tell her not to harm the elf next time.

- An unusual friendship was born between you and Fingon. His warm and forward nature made you eager for his visits, and you started asking more about Middle Earth and news around the world. 

- One day, you dared to ask him if he could bring books and teach you his language. You held love toward languages and thought his people’s language sounded beautiful. 

- When he agreed, you were gleaming with joy. It was perhaps the first time Fingon saw you smile openly, and he thought your excitement was adorable. 

- You immediately started reading and learning when he brought you the books and took it as a little personal challenge to surprise him with your linguistic skills. You have always been a quick learner when it came to languages. 

- Then Freda suddenly came to visit when Fingon was there. She was quick to take a protective stance when she saw him and realized he knew about your scales and even threatened to beat him up if he dared to do anything foul to you. 

- You had to calm her down, though you felt touched that she came to your defense. She then gushed and teased you about your new friendship with the elf. She even teased if you had a growing crush on the elf. 

- You profoundly apologized to Fingon for the encounter, but he only smiled. He found it admirable and complimented you having a good friend. It made you somewhat happy because it proved Freda was one of the first true friends you ever had. 

- When you told him you had never seen much of the world around you except on Meraxes’s back, he suggested you two would go on an adventure together. 

- The idea made you fearful as you had never dared to venture the lands on foot. You also felt a bit embarrassed since you had flown for most of your life and didn't know how to ride a horse.

- Fingon did not tease you when you told him. He encouraged you and assured you that you would be fine with him around. No one will dare to harm you in his presence. 

- The voices in your head said no to the offer, but wanting to see the world at least once, you agreed. 

- Your body was shaking and nearly refusing to leave the house when the day arrived. Ioreth helped you pack necessities, but it was like your conscious and body wanted to stay in the safety zone, pushing all kinds of thoughts into your head. You nearly changed your mind until Fingon arrived on his horse, and you managed to compose yourself somehow.

- You felt excited when you climbed behind him on his horse, and he took you farther from the town. It became easy letting him ride you around, and you finally saw things beyond the borders of the town. 

- Fingon showed you all the beautiful sights of Hithlum. The fear and the blood rush calmed down as you were awed by the sights and things you never saw in the sky. 

- However, you would start shaking when Fingon would pass some other towns, and people would look at you. You were covered in your cloak, so they most likely looked at you because of the height difference between you and Fingon. You were one head taller than him. You might have also held a bit too hard on him during your shaking episode and felt embarrassed when he gently asked you to ease your grip around his waist. 

- You two then arrived at a good picnic spot and challenged each other in fishing. Fingon dared if you could catch a fish with your bare hands, and you accepted since you did have a quick reaction and keen senses. 

- However, when you pulled up your sleeve and focused on the small shadows in the water, Fingon noticed the state of your arm. He saw how it was covered in small cuts and appeared to have missing scales. The redness of your skin concerned him, as your arm looked like something had scratched it hatefully.

- You then tried to snatch the fish from the water. You got a hold of the fish and pulled it out, but it then slipped out of your hands and fell into the water. 

- You two laughed about it, and then Fingon tried to inquire about your arm. Your behavior changed as you explained you had a little incident and covered your arm. Nothing he needed to worry about. 

- Fingon felt suspicious of your words but pushed it back as you two then had a picnic and watched the stars when the night arrived, having planned to stay the night outside. 

- Fingon introduced you to most of the constellations and explained how Varda was the goddess who created the stars. You listened attentively, enjoying the stories and the sound of his voice. 

- When Fingon mentioned the life he still had with his family in Valinor, you felt a small rush of courage and decided to share more details about your past life. 

- You shared what kind of person your father was and how you were abandoned at birth by both your father and birth mother, and the only person who took you in and raised you was your father’s first wife. How most people treated you and how you were always known as your father’s half-monster daughter and the only surviving child out of all his other dead half-monster children. 

- Fingon was first surprised to learn you used to be a noble lady, but then he threw a few jokes and called you ‘my lady’ 

- You did not correct that you were actually a princess and found humor in his jokes. 

- You then revealed the true reason why you left your home, and Fingon felt sympathy for you, sorrowed how much hardship you had faced even though you were one of the most gentle-hearted people in his eyes. 

- He comforted you, and you found yourself surprisingly relieved for sharing. You two then spent the night sleeping against the tree till morning finally arrived. Unfortunately, trouble arrived right at the crack of dawn. 

- Fingon was still soundly sleeping till his ears picked up growling above him. He opened his eyes and looked up, seeing Meraxes snarling and glaring down at him with fury in her golden eye. 

- “Well, I hope you are here to apologize for the last time,” Fingon said before closing his eyes again. 

- You woke up to Fingon’s screams as your dragon dragged him by his foot. 

- You quickly acted, running up to him and grabbing his hands before Meraxes could pick him up and swallow him whole. 

- “Meraxes! Let go!” You yelled as you ended up playing tug war with your dragon, your elf friend being the rope. 

- Meraxes ignored your orders, even when you tried to yell in high valyrian, so you then took out your claws and smacked her hard enough in the snout that she finally let go of Fingon’s foot. 

- You both fell to the ground, but you quickly stood protectively in front of Fingon when your dragon tried to attack him again. You prevented her from getting past you and tried to tell her off. 

- She growled at you. You finally had enough and snarled back at her, revealing your teeth and warning her off. Meraxes finally took you seriously and backed away, releasing crumbles and glaring at Fingon. 

- You sighed in relief and started apologizing to Fingon for the mess. You were so eager to go on a trip with him that you had completely forgotten to tell Meraxes. She most likely thought he was trying to kidnap you or something. 

- Fingon tried to calm you down and assure you he was not angry, but you dismissed it, having been unable to keep Meraxes out of trouble and nearly getting him killed for the second time. 

- You then decided it was for the best that you two went home and flew back on Meraxes, feeling upset about the whole ordeal. 

- The next week felt excruciating, and you started dreading the next day when Fingon was supposed to visit. What if he hated you now? What if he deemed you were unsafe to keep around, and now he would bring people to chase you out? Why can’t you do anything right? 

- Those questions kept haunting you and nearly drove you mad. You did not dare to face Fingon again, but you also wanted to have some kind of answer to what he thought of you now. You did not want to lose the friendship you had with him. You liked being with him, and the thought of him hating you made the feeling worse. 

- You looked at your scales, and the looming sense of self-hatred returned. If only you had been born without them, perhaps you could have lived a normal life.

- Your heart began to pound painfully against your chest, and your breathing became frantic as you started scratching the scales again, desperate to remove them from your skin.  

- The scales dropped to the ground, and your arm began to bleed from the cuts you gave yourself from your claws. Your arm was burning with pain, but you ignored it and even started scratching your other arm out of its scales. You were too deep in your panic to notice someone approaching you. 

- Fingon tried to call out to you, but when you ignored him, he then grabbed both of your hands, forcing you to stop and look at him. 

- He gently calmed you down from the panic attack, but you looked away, pleading him not to look at you. 

- He comforted you and then begged you to tell him what drove you to hurt yourself. He continuously assured you he was there to help, but he wouldn’t be able to if you didn’t tell him. You couldn’t take it anymore and started sobbing, confessing to everything.

- You told him what kind of life you lived as the half-monster princess, how you lost your beloved mother when you were sixteen, how you killed the knight who killed her, how uncaring your father was of her, and how you were punished living in isolation, how your birth mother isolated you from your only friends, how your father committed more atrocities and how he was the reason you were born like this. And the last thing he did was to tell you to run away before your cousin could find you and kill you for being a monster. 

- You had no one else to turn to, and your half-monster side still prevents you from finding happiness. 

- Fingon listened to you while caring for your arms, cleaning them, and adding healing ointment given by Ioreth after telling her what had happened. He gently bandaged your arms. 

- He was nearly driven into tears by your story and how you possessed such self-hatred that you would even harm yourself. 

- He now understood why you were so scared of the world around you and why you always wanted to keep yourself hidden. 

- You then asked him not to hate you, as you genuinely liked him and wanted to keep him as a friend. He was one of your only friends besides Freda. 

- He comforted you that he never hated you in the first place and that what happened with Meraxes was an accident. Maybe the two were never fated to get along in the first place. 

- He then did something surprising and embraced you. He comforted you and assured you that he would never hate you just because your dragon doesn’t like him. He then kept telling you that being born unique did not make you a monster and that you were deserving of love and friends. 

- He also told you he knew people who looked normal yet were just as terrible as monsters. Compared to them, you were innocent as a dove. 

- You nearly couldn't understand his words, but the feeling of comfort in his arms was enough to make you hold on to him and cry. 

- Fingon then held you and did not allow you to leave till you had shed all the pain and tears you needed. 

- Fingon shared what happened with Freda, and the latter then forced you to live in the town with her family for the time being. The two believed you needed company and care so that you would not try to hurt yourself again. 

- It helped a little to improve your state of mind, and Freda’s family refused to let you go out, insisting you stayed inside until your arms were healed. 

- Fingon started visiting you more often, bringing elven remedies and helping you care for your arms. Even though you had the qualities of a dragon, you were still very human and thus vulnerable to infections. Fingon wanted to make sure you recovered without falling sick. 

- But since you opened up about your past and cried all the bottled emotions you had held back over the years, you became lethargic, thus making you smile became more challenging. 

- Fingon asked Ioreth and other healers what he could do to help you recover in mind and spirit, and one thing he learned was that music was a good remedy to heal someone from a depressive state of mind, so he decided to sing to you. 

- You became captivated by his singing voice and music, and it did help you become more lively. 

- Under his care, you started to look after yourself more, and to ensure you would not scratch yourself again, you trimmed your nails and claws. They would grow back, and that way, you assured Fingon you would not try hurting yourself again. 

- Although you still had the habit of picking scales off your skin, but not bad enough to cause injuries. 

- You even started going out again, mostly to visit Ioreth and Meraxes, though you were still upset with her for the incident. 

- You even started ignoring your beloved dragon, confusing her. She once came near the town to see you and was startled when you angrily told her to return to her cave. However, you soon felt awful for snapping at her and apologized to her. 

- You felt a little ashamed from the constant care by Freda and Fingon. In your home, such attention might have labeled you as short-tempered and overly emotional. Those were the traits you did not like sharing with your father. 

- But then you began to notice something within yourself when you continued listening to Fingon’s music or looked forward to his visits. 

- Your arms had gotten better thanks to him. The cuts had healed, and by the next month, your arms began to grow new scales. 

- Fingon was gentle with you and was always happy to play you a new song. His care and willingness to still come visit sparked something within your heart. 

- You two even got more things to talk about when you had told him your past, and the elven prince seemed not to have changed much, even throwing jokes and treating you like royalty. 

- It felt too weird to be regarded as a princess again, so you asked him to treat you normally, and he respected your wish. Although he did boast how he was right since you being a princess was his first impression of you. 

- Fingon somehow managed to keep you flustered, and it soon became obvious enough that you were falling for him. 

- You denied it at first. You did adore him as a friend, but falling in love with him was too far of a stretch. You were blessed enough not to have him hate you for his two near-death experiences, but having him fall for someone like you was simply an impossible fever dream. 

- Freda became excited when you shared with her about your feelings for Fingon and regretted it because now she was pestering you to go forward with them.

- You refused, and she said you were taking things too pessimistically. You should at least try to see if he had an ounce of interest in you. 

- Freda had a good way with words, so you became haunted by the thought and started observing Fingon when he visited you. 

- He seemed like always, and when you started taking walks outside the town, he was gentle with you and tried to keep up a good mood. You always listened because you enjoyed hearing him talk about random and mundane things, and he also started saying positive things about you. 

- He continued how you had many useful perks, such as a keen sense of smell, so you could always find misplaced things, could see in the dark so light was a never problem for you, and the scales being a natural armor for you, protecting you from small things like flies and mosquitoes who loved to bother everyone. That part made you laugh because you never really had a problem with mosquitoes. 

- His positive talking helped you to see yourself in a better light, though not fully removing the years of hatred you accumulated. 

- And to your startle, you noticed signs that he might be interested in you romantically. 

- You didn’t know how to handle that information. In a small part of your mind, it made you feel happy, but in others, it gave you new fears. 

- After being constantly pestered and advised by Ioreth that you should grasp happiness when it's offered to you, you decided to make a bold move and ask Fingon if he could take you on another adventure.

- You reasoned that revealing your past to him helped relieve the heavy weight from your chest, and you were also tired of living in fear all the time. You wanted to experience all that life had to offer before the end of your time.

- Fingon excitedly agreed, but he questioned if you were comfortable with the idea as he wanted to avoid pushing your limits. 

- You assured him that you wanted it. You did not want to keep hiding all the time. You just needed to assure Meraxes this time and ensure she would not jump to conclusions. 

- Fingon then insisted he would come with you to see her, to show her he was not a threat to you. You felt hesitant, but to your surprise, your dragon did not try to kill him in sight when you two came to visit her. 

- She did glare at him and crumbled while you told her of your plans, but she didn’t try anything and allowed you to leave without an issue. 

- It was a surprising change, but then you figured she must have changed her attitude so you wouldn’t get upset with her and ignore her like last time. 

- She was a stubborn old lady, but she always cared deeply for you. She was perhaps that overprotective, stubborn mother figure in your life– wanting to keep you safe from everything and making it hard for you to try new things. 

- You and Fingon then went on another adventure. You still became nervous at the sight of people, but now you felt less afraid at the thought of traveling. 

- Fingon showed you new places and even took you to see his home, which you thought was beautiful. 

- At the end of the day, when Fingon escorted you back home. You had contemplated about your feelings for him and finally decided to confess. You believed it was best to let him know than to hide them since you had done it for most of your life. 

- You stopped Fingon beneath a tree and told him of your feelings. How you had grown to adore his free yet gentle nature, how he had helped you see good in yourself, and how you had become less afraid of the world thanks to him. 

- You loved the sound of his voice, and his presence was like that of a warm sun. The world had become less dark to you when he arrived in your life. 

- You understood if he only saw you as a friend and then prepared to face rejection. 

- But instead of rejection, Fingon smiled and told you he accepted your feelings. He confessed that he had loved you since day one. 

- He then went far as to kiss the back of your hand like he did when you first met, making your poor heart pound with fluster before telling you he would be honored to court someone like you, a maiden with diamonds embedded on her skin. 

- You began crying, not out of sorrow or anger, but for the first time, in joy. You had found someone who loved you in return. 

- That night went like a breeze, but it was one of the happiest nights of your life.

Taglist: @foggyturtleknightangel @carlgrimessimp

[kivino]

FANTASY AU WITH VALERIA!

Word Counter - ~900 words.

Summary – self-indulgent thoughts with Rogue!Valeria in a fantasy setting!

Tags/Warnings – very much Dragon Age coded, reader is a mage/healer, mentions of blood and injury, this is very corny™, gn!reader.

A/n – wrote it almost in one go, very sorry if someone already did something like this! I originally planned for my first writing post to be Graves fanfiction that I’m working on right now, but I just couldn’t contain myself, lololol

Rogue!Valeria who stumbles into your clinic one moonlit night while running away from the city guard, hands clawing at her side, blood seeping through the delicate fabric of her shirt and vest, slipping in and out of consciousness, as she tries to hold onto the cold walls that smelled of medicine and herbs.

Rogue!Valeria who made so much noise and racket downstairs that it woke you up better than any of your assistants could. You fly out of your bed, covers and colorful duvets trailing behind you in a stream of fabric, long forgotten on the floor of your bedroom as you run down the stairs, in fear that somebody broke into your clinic, no patients of yours were staying overnight today. Any words that could’ve been said evaporate as you see a woman, bleeding out on the floor, back propped up against the counter, and…are those daggers she is carrying?

Rogue!Valeria who wakes up the next morning in someone else’s bed, her wound freshly bandaged, hot breakfast already prepared for her. And at that moment she thinks she must’ve died and gone to the Fade. Where else would she see a spirit as beautiful as you?

Rogue!Valeria who tried her best to leave this quiet haven, full of smells, colors, and so many things unknown to her (she’s no mage after all), but she just can’t, throbbing pain in her abdomen stopping her the moment she even tries to stand up among the quiet murmurs of your patients and their relatives. You throw her a stern look, and she is immediately pinned to the soft sheets like her body is not her own.

Rogue!Valeria who finally has a chance to talk to you once it’s time to change the bandages on her wound. You sit near her, your voice quiet, asking “May I?”, as you delicately remove the covers. Valeria asks if you can speed up the recovery, seeing what a miracle worker you were, treating the patients all day with the help of not only healing salves, herbs, and potions but also magic. And you decide to grant her request, hands gliding along the surface of her skin, Valeria’s stab wound slowly closing and a delicate, light scar forming. She doesn’t know how much that takes out of you until your assistant helps you walk back to your room to get much-needed rest. Her eyes lingered on your fatigued figure as her fingers keep poking and prodding at the thin skin of her new scar, feeling something warm spark inside her.

Rogue!Valeria whose gang starts protecting you. Thieves know better than to try picking any of the locks on your doors, signs carved on the worn wood by her informing them that this place is off-limits.

Rogue!Valeria who sneaks through your backdoor, knowing you always forget to lock it, seeing you sleeping on another book, laid out under your arms. She wraps you in a soft blanket, pressing her finger against her lips when she sees awake patients or assistants eyeing you two.

Rogue!Valeria who leaves the flowers she picked from the gardens of her rich targets on your windowsill, petals ruffled and worn, former beauty still recognizable. Instead of putting those flowers in the water you dry and preserve every single one of them, with time gathering small bouquets that greet you each morning around your clinic. When she visits “officially”, she asks about them and you just say that you have no idea who leaves the flowers, mischief tugging at the corners of your eyes. Valeria only grins in response. “Is that so? You must have a lot of suitors then.”

Rogue!Valeria who always leaves some of her things behind just to have an excuse to visit you again, to see you at work, to hear your laughter, and to feel your hand shake her own in a warm greeting. Each time she gets bolder, and instead of a small satchel or a dagger, you start finding her jewelry and accessories. When did she have the chance to take them off anyway?

 Rogue!Valeria who drags you to the market during fairs, insisting that you need to have some fun once in a while, as she leads you between a variety of stalls, her heart squeezing harshly against her ribs each time your fingers tighten around her hand.

Rogue!Valeria who ends up hiding with you in a narrow alleyway, hiding from the city guard that patrolled the festival grounds. She looks you in the eyes, trying to make sure you’re okay, and shoots you a sly wink, caging you between her body and the wall. She feels her breathing get quicker with each second spent like this, but you two are soon taken out of it when small sparks of fire shoot out of your fingers. Too agitated to control your magic, you get flustered, not sure why you were getting nervous in the first place. But when you hear Valeria let out a hearty laugh from your sudden supernatural outburst, everything starts to make sense.

Rogue!Valeria who never mutters a single word about her quickly developing feelings. It would complicate things. It would spoil your friendship. It would tie her down, it would cause her to become slow and eventually sink, taking you with her. Yet she couldn’t let you go. Not when her heart ached with such sweet foretaste each time she saw you running to her with your arms open. Not when her thoughts inevitably drifted to you each time she was preparing to raid another lazy lord’s manor. Not when her days already started to center around visits to your small clinic, during which you constantly looked at her with that contagious light in your eyes.

taglist - @mockerycrow @stridersdiner

check out my masterlist for more fics or send me a request!

[targayrenss]

A Dance With Dragons (I) -Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon Oc

pairing:Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon Oc

Content: Incest, Age-Gap,Angst

Jocelyn had never met her father's sister, but according to him, they were both very alike.

After her uncomfortable funeral, Jocelyn decided to go to the beach to soak her feet a bit, that was the excuse she gave her mother to get out of that uncomfortable place.

Looking at the sea she thought about how nice it would be to have a funeral like her aunt's, they were born from the sea and in her death they would return to hers, Jocelyn always thought of her as more Velaryon than Targaryen.

She loved her mother's house, she loved her dragon, star, she and her dragon shared a very special bond, Jocelyn loved everything about her dragon, from her star-like white eyes to her sea-blue scales.

She knew that one day it would be the dragon of one of her future children that would burn her body, she would rather become another fish in the sea than be reduced to ashes.

"I see your father didn't lie when he said you're the spitting image of him." Jocelyn tilted her head to see the owner of that voice.

Daemon Targaryen, Jocelyn had never met her uncle nor was she interested in doing so, and apparently her mother had no interest in her meeting him either.

—Uncle, I am very sorry for your loss, I would have loved to meet my aunt, my father always tells me the stories of his childhood shared with his sister

Daemon didn't answer but smiled at her, Jocelyn thought that was it so she turned her gaze back to the sea.

The prince took a seat on the sand next to her—It's beautiful, isn't it? I've never been so interested in the sea but now I can see how beautiful it is.

Jocelyn just nodded.

As she watched the sea, Daemon looked at her.

Jocelyn doubted if what she was going to ask was appropriate, she was comfortable and she was afraid that her question would ruin everything.

—Do you think I'll be a good queen?

-Who are they?

—Everyone! Everyone will hate me, they minimized my reign, the mother says that I will get married soon, the people will see my husband as their king, not as a king consort.

Smart girl, she was right in everything she said but at least she knows the truth, not like her mother who is completely blind to people's opinions.

—Whether they hate you or not, they will have to accept you as their queen, and if they don't, don't hesitate to burn them to ashes.

Jocelyn and Daemon looked at each other, both smiling at each other.

"My prince! Princess! His presence is requested in the throne room." The guard looked quite agitated.

Daemon took Jocelyn's shoulder and led them both into the living room.

The closer they got they could hear the screams coming from inside, Jocelyn hurried on until she flung open the door.

Everyone's attention fell on the young princess and the Daemon prince.

“Luke! Jace! What happened?” Jocelyn knelt down to her smallest brother's level, “Come on, show your sister.

“They attacked me!” Jocelyn looked from her to Aemond, the poor man mutilated.

Jocelyn shared a look with Daemon which did not go unnoticed by Rhaenyra.

She didn't know when or how, but the queen had thrown herself at her mother with a knife in her hand, managing to make a big cut on her arm.

"Enough, we can't go on like this! We're family!" Viserys yelled at everyone, "I'm not going to allow this family to separate anymore."

Jocelyn felt the king's gaze on her.

"My granddaughter, Jocelyn, and my son Aegon will marry, they will both inherit Dragonstone, and when their time comes, they will both reign together."

"Father." Rhaenyra tried to convince her father that this was a bad idea.

—It's an order! My granddaughter has already bled but she will be until she is sixteen days old when they should get married.

Jocelyn couldn't believe that she would have to marry Aegon, it was the compensation prize for a fight neither of them were involved in.

She went to sleep thinking that everything would improve but she did not, when she woke up she went directly to her father's funeral.

When her father's ashes were thrown into the sea, she Jocelyn headed to the beach hoping that if she went into the sea she would feel her father one last time.

Lost in her thoughts, she did not hear the footsteps that followed her.

"Sorry for your loss, niece."

Jocelyn was slow to answer, once again wondering if what was about to come out of her mouth was for the best, but she did.

I need you to do something for me, man.

Jocelyn turned back, seeing her uncle, he had more than thirty days of his name, he was taller than her, Jocelyn thought that even if she wasn't a girl he would still be taller than her, his eyes are the darkest violet she has ever seen.

"Take me to Dragonstone and make me your wife."

[kckt88]

The Gullet.

Summary:

Desperate to see the war for the Iron Throne at an end. Vaera disobeys her husband and takes matters into her own hands. With surprising results.

Warning(s): Grief, Worry, Anger, Mentions of child loss, Violence, Desperation.

Word Count: 1967

Author Note: A companion piece to A Time for Grief & Harrenhal and the Rivers but can be read as a one-shot.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Aemond was livid.

He’d woke that morning to find his wife and her Cannibal gone.

She’d snuck away in the dead of night and completely disobeyed his orders.

He should have known better last night when she claimed she wasn’t angry with him, and he let the desire to get his cock wet overrule his usual good sense.

His wife was a damn temptress with her soft skin and pretty moans, begging him to fuck her harder.

There was not much in this world that Aemond would admit to, but he was weak for his wife, she was his addiction. He was a dragon, and she was his treasure.

He had wanted to chase after her on Vhagar, but his mother convinced him to stay. They had no idea if Rhaenyra or Daemon had spies watching Kings Landing and if it was reported that both Vhagar and Cannibal had left the capitol undefended then it might give them a chance to attack.

As much as Aemond was reluctant to admit that his mother was right, he couldn’t help but worry for Vaera, it had been hours and still there was no word.

What if she’d failed? What if she’d been captured or worse killed?

Aemond stared at the silver band that graced his finger and prayed to the seven that his wife was ok. She was with her Cannibal; he would defend her.

Trying to be rational and calm was becoming increasingly difficult.

His heart was in his throat all morning, even as he sat in yet another council meeting, his mind was elsewhere.

If she died, he would take Vhagar and raze Dragonstone to the ground. Realm be damned.

When Vaera accused him of caring more for the crown than her, she was wrong.

The crown meant nothing to him without his wife or their son.

Everything he did was for her and Rhaegar.

As time went on, Aemond had worked himself into such a frenzy of worry that he was close to storming out from the council chambers and mounting Vhagar.

But then, a huge roar shook the very foundations of the Red Keep.

“The Cannibal has returned Your Grace”.

Aemond breathed a sigh of relief, Cannibal was back, but what about his rider?

It seemed to take an age for Vaera to arrive back at the council chambers.

Aemond wondered if she was deliberately taking her time, knowing that he would be furious with her.

He had to see that she was safe, that she was alive and then he was going to kill her.

Perhaps he would fuck her before he killed her.

Oh, who was he kidding, he couldn’t kill her, but fucking her until she writhed and screamed on the end of his cock, begging for release was definitely tempting.

He could bring her to the edge over and over again, only to stop before she peaked.

It would drive her insane with want and lust. She would scream and cry as he denied her.

Yes, that’s what he was going to do.

He was going to make her beg for mercy.

The doors opened and Vaera walked inside. Her silver braided hair a mess and her face covered in black ash.

“The blockade has been destroyed. The Gullet is free”

“What of the Velaryon fleet?” asked Otto.

“Burning” replied Vaera sternly.

“What you did was incredibly dangerous” snapped Aemond.

“I did what needed doing. Without the Velaryon fleet, my mother’s forces have been weakened. You should be grateful” retorted Vaera.

“Grateful? That my wife risked her life. Not to mention you disobeyed a direct order from the Prince Regent” said Aemond.

“Lucky, I did. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to bring you a gift”.

“A gift. What gift?” exclaimed Aemond.

Vaera nodded to the guard stood behind her. With a respectful bow of his head, he opened the doors to the council chambers and the approaching sound of clinking chains were heard.

“Who. Who is that?” asked Otto as a dishevelled sodden man was quickly thrust into the chambers.

“Jacaerys Velaryon” replied Vaera as she pulled the covers off the man’s head to reveal her younger brother, his face pale and bleeding.

“How-How did you manage that?” asked Aemond stunned.

“With Daemon at Harrenhall, and Meleys dead. The only one left to defend the Gullet was Jacaerys” replied Vaera.

“What about his dragon?” asked Tyland.

“Vermax is dead. My Cannibal killed him”.

“Kinslayer” spat Jace as he stared at Aemond.

“My husband is no such thing” quipped Vaera.

“He murdered Luke. Yet there he stands with the conquerors crown a false King”

“I did not kill Lucerys” retorted Aemond.

“We know you were at Storms End when he arrived there. We know you chased him out of there on the back of that old bitch dragon of yours and now he’s dead” shouted Jace.

“Yes, I chased after him. I only wanted to frighten him. But I never killed him. He was very much alive the last time I saw him” snapped Aemond.

“LIAR” shouted Jace.

“If I might be as so bold as to say. Quite a fortunate turn of events Your Grace. Perhaps we can use the bastard boy against his mother and force her to terms,” said Jasper.

“Send a raven to Dragonstone. Tell my mother that she is to bend the knee and declare Aegon the rightful King of the seven Kingdoms and the true heir to the Iron Throne. Tell her that she has a moon to respond. Otherwise, I will slit my brother’s throat and send his body back to Dragonstone, piece by piece” said Vaera firmly.

“Please. Sister” begged Jace as he reached put to try and grasp her hand.

“No. You don’t get to call me that” snapped Vaera as she recoiled backwards.

“I-I’m sorry” whispered Jace.

“What?” asked Vaera.

“A-About Aemon” muttered Jace staring at the floor.

“Don’t you ever say his name” shouted Vaera.

“H-he wasn’t supposed to die”.

“What do you mean?” asked Vaera as she rounded on her brother and seized him by the collar.

“It was only supposed to be Jaehaerys”.

“What?” exclaimed Alicent.

“Did mother know-“ snarled Vaera.

“-I-I-” gasped Jace as Vaera began shaking him.

“DID MOTHER KNOW” balled Vaera.

“Only about Jaehaerys. When Daemon told her about the planned assassination attempt, she told him to spare your sons. Daemon swore that no harm would come to them. But he lied to her. He snuck into Kings Landing and met up with Mysaria” said Jace.

“W-Who is that?” asked Aemond pursing his lips.

“One of Daemon’s old whores,” spat Otto, his face crinkled with disgust.

“What does she have to do with it?”.

“She arranged the assassination under Daemons orders, he told her of the secret passageways in the Red Keep. He told her where the nursery was” replied Jace.

“M-My son. H-He was innocent and J-Jaehaerys. Poor Helaena, the sweetest of us all. What did she ever do to you-” exclaimed Vaera, tears pouring down her face.

“-When mother found out about Aemon. She was furious-“

“-Daemon is complicit in the murder of two innocent children. He deserves to be hung for his crimes” snapped Otto.

“-Mother made a mistake in trusting-“

“-A mistake? My son being killed was not a mistake, it was a deliberate act of cruelty. He was innocent. He was a child. M-My boy. My sweet boy” cried Vaera.

“I-I’m sorry about Aem-“ gasped Jace as he was suddenly thrown to the floor.

“NO. HE. WAS. MY. SWEET. KIND. BEAUTIFUL. BOY” shouted Vaera as she jumped on top of Jacaerys and began punching him as hard as she could.

“Vaera. Stop. Please” begged Jace unable to defend himself from the onslaught of punches that his sister continuously reigned down upon him.

“No. I won’t stop. I’m going to kill you. I hate you. I hate you” screamed Vaera as she continued to punch every bit of Jacaerys that she could reach.

The council members were stunned to silence as they witnessed Vaera’s attack.

“Vaera” exclaimed Aemond as he wrapped both of his arms around his wife and pulled her away from a bleeding Jacaerys.

“NO. LET ME GO. LET ME GO-“ balled Vaera as she struggled against her husband’s grasp.

“Get him out of here” ordered Aemond as Criston marched towards Jace and hauled him from the floor, his bleeding head lolling forward.

“Our boy. Our sweet boy” cried Vaera as she threw her arms around Aemond and buried her face is his chest.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you” whispered Aemond as he held his sobbing wife against him.

“Your Grace?” asked Criston.

“Throw him in the black cells and send terms to Rhaenyra. She has a moon to bend the knee, or Jace is dead” replied Aemond as he lifted Vaera into his arms and carried his shaking wife to their chambers.

“H-He took him away from us” muttered Vaera as she paced around their chambers.

“Vaera. Please stop pacing and look at me” urged Aemond.

“This war needs to end. We cannot carry on like this” said Vaera ignoring her husband.

“Don’t you think I know that” exclaimed Aemond.

Vaera stopped pacing and turned to face her husband. Her amethyst eyes immediately staring at the conquerors crown that graced his silver head.

“I-I’m with child again” whispered Vaera as she placed a hand gently on her stomach.

“Are you sure?” asked Aemond.

“Yes. It-it must have happened the night we argued-“

Aemond remembered that night very well, after the events of Rooks Rest and his crowning as Prince Regent, he was spending increasing amounts of time away from his wife and their son.

He claimed it was his duty to the crown and to the realm but the grief over losing Aemon was still so raw and Vaera accused him of caring more about the crown than his own wife and child. It was their first ever argument, they screamed and shouted at one another until things spectacularly erupted between them and Aemond ended up fucking her into the mattress.

“-That’s almost three moons…If you knew you were with child why did you ask so recklessly today? questioned Aemond.

“Because the war needs to end. We can’t hide behind letters and potential alliances anymore” replied Vaera as she sat on the bed.

“The responsibility of the crown is a heavy one” whispered Aemond.

“P-Please don’t let him take another one of our children. I can’t lose another child. I beg you Aemond. I-I can’t take the pain again” sobbed Vaera.

“I swear on the seven that no harm shall come to Rhaegar or this babe. I will kill Daemon. This I promise” replied Aemond as he ripped off the conquerors crown and sat next to Vaera, pulling her into his arms and rocking her gently.

Aemond hide his face in his wife’s hair, trying to hide his own tears. He had tried to be strong for her. To be a man worthy of the title husband. To be worthy of being a father and he’d failed miserably.

His son, his precious Aemon was dead. He would never in his life forget the sight of Vaera clutching their sons lifeless body in her arms. His once bright eyes, still and devoid of life. His neck split open.

“A-Aemond” whispered Vaera.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. It’s my fault”.

“N-No. None of had any idea of what Daemon was truly capable of. He had his own grandson murdered. The fault lies with him” replied Vaera.

“I keep thinking of Aemon and how scared he must have been” cried Aemond.

“He was brave. H-He stood in front of Rhaegar and protected his brother”.

“My boy. My brave boy” whispered Aemond.

“Just like his father” said Vaera quietly.

[naturallylonesomefool]

I am appalled by the negativity in the comments of the reveal trailer. Not exactly surprised, but appalled.

I'm not saying you need to love it, there are some things that aren't quite sitting well me either–such as the overly cartoony graphics–which I'm hoping might look better and less mobile game-like in the actual gameplay trailer.

But the amount of people in the yt comments complaining about how it doesn't look like dark-fantasy anymore and how "woke" it seems ?????

If of all criticism, the thing you're pressed about is the representation (the ONE thing I think they've done pretty well afaict), then Dragon Age IS NOT FOR YOU. IT NEVER WAS.

As for the dark-fantasy thing- Dragon Age hasn't been strictly dark-fantasy in years. If you've even looked at a Dragon Age game in the last 10 years, you know this. Doesn't mean it can't still have some elements of it, but I guess we'll just have to wait and see, right?

Personally? The graphics in the trailer kinda caught me off-guard, but that's also been true of all cinematic Dragon Age trailers (remember how weird everyone looked in Inquisition's trailers?). And even if they do end up looking similar in-game, I'm sure I'll get used to it, as graphics haven't really stayed consistent through the first 3 games anyway.

It looks fun and like a great mix of Origins and Inquisition's high stakes with DA2's chaotic nobody protagonist surrounded by a merry band of misfits.

[novaursa]

Part 13

- Title: zōbrie ānogar

- Rating: Explicit (18+)

- Romance: (Aegon II/OFC)

- Warning: All flags are up for this work. Aegon is also a warning on his own.

- Summary: It was written by Archmaester Gyldayn that on the day Princess Vaella Targaryen was born she was supposed to die. Until she fed upon her twin, Baelon. And when she turned one and five, she sought her end in the lair of Cannibal, in Dragonmont. But instead of feasting upon her, the dragon wept with her. And Archmaester had written a lengthy thesis on how wild dragon recognized a kindred soul in the Princess, as they both dined on their kin.

- Word count: 9 000+

- Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 14, 15, 16, Final

The morning sun filtered through the heavy curtains of the nursery, casting a gentle glow over the room. Baelor Targaryen, lay in his bed, the remnants of sleep still clinging to him. He blinked against the light, rubbing his eyes with small fists as he slowly woke up.

Baelor's thoughts were a mix of excitement and worry. He had overheard whispers among the servants about the recent events—the battles, the injuries, and his father's condition. Though he was young, he understood enough to know that things were not as they should be.

His sister, Daena, lay in the bed beside him, still fast asleep. Baelor carefully climbed out of bed, trying not to wake her. He padded across the room, his small feet making barely a sound on the cold stone floor. He reached the window and peeked out, the view of King's Landing sprawling before him.

Baelor's heart ached with a longing to see his father. He missed the days when Aegon would lift him onto his shoulders and tell him stories of dragons and battles. He missed the comforting presence of his mother, Vaella, who had been often away for what felt like an eternity.

Determined, Baelor made his way to the door, cracking it open just enough to peer into the corridor. Two Kingsguard stood watch, their expressions stern but not unkind. Baelor took a deep breath and stepped out.

"Prince Baelor," one of the guards greeted him, bowing slightly. "What brings you out of bed so early?"

"I want to see my father," Baelor said, his voice steady despite his young age.

The guards exchanged a glance, their expressions softening. "Your father is resting, young prince. He needs to regain his strength."

Baelor frowned, his determination unwavering. "But I need to see him. Please."

The guards hesitated, then one of them nodded. "Very well, but you must be quiet. Your father needs peace."

Baelor nodded eagerly and followed the guard down the winding corridors of the Red Keep. His small hand clutched the guard's larger one, the stone walls towering around him. They stopped outside his parents' chambers, and the guard gently knocked before pushing the door open.

Inside, Baelor saw his father lying in bed, looking pale and fragile. His mother sat beside him, holding his hand. Baelor's heart swelled with a mixture of joy and sadness. He took a tentative step forward.

"Baelor," Vaella said softly, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her son. "Come here, my brave boy."

Baelor ran to his mother's side, his small arms wrapping around her waist. He looked up at Aegon, his eyes wide with concern. "Father, are you alright?"

Aegon managed a weak smile, his eyes filled with love. "I'm better now that you're here, Baelor."

Baelor climbed onto the bed, careful not to jostle his father. He reached out and took Aegon's hand, his tiny fingers curling around his father's larger ones. "I missed you, Father."

Aegon squeezed his son's hand gently. "I missed you too, my boy. You've been brave, haven't you?"

Baelor nodded, his eyes shining with determination. "Yes, Father. I've been taking care of Daena, just like you asked."

Vaella smiled, her heart swelling with pride. "You've been a wonderful big brother, Baelor. Your father and I are very proud of you."

Baelor's chest puffed up with pride at his mother's words. He looked back at his father, his voice filled with hope. "When will you get better, Father? When can we play again?"

Aegon's smile wavered slightly, the pain evident in his eyes. "I will get better, Baelor. It will just take some time. But I promise, once I'm well, we'll play and tell stories just like we used to."

Baelor nodded, his faith in his father's promise unwavering. He nestled closer to Aegon, his small body a source of warmth and comfort. "I love you, Father."

Aegon closed his eyes, his voice a soft whisper. "I love you too, Baelor. More than you'll ever know."

Vaella watched the exchange, her heart aching with both love and sorrow. She reached out and stroked Baelor's hair, her touch gentle. "Come, Baelor. Let's let your father rest."

Baelor looked up, reluctant to leave but understanding the need. "Alright, Mother." He leaned over and kissed Aegon's cheek. "Get well soon, Father."

Aegon nodded, his eyes filled with tears. "I will, Baelor. I will."

Vaella led Baelor out of the room, her hand resting on his shoulder. As they walked back to the nursery, Baelor's mind was filled with thoughts of his father. He wanted to be strong, to be brave, just like Aegon.

"Mother," Baelor said softly as they reached the nursery door. "Will Father really get better?"

Vaella knelt down, looking into her son's earnest eyes. "Yes, Baelor. He will. It will take time, but with love and care, he will get better."

Baelor nodded, his heart filled with determination. "Then I'll help too. I'll be strong for him."

Vaella hugged her son tightly, her voice filled with emotion. "You already are, my brave boy. You already are."

As Baelor climbed back into bed, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. He would be strong for his father, for his family. 

As he drifted back to sleep, Baelor's dreams were filled with images of his father, strong and healthy once more. He dreamed of flying dragons and epic battles, of a future where they were all together and happy. And in his heart, he knew that with love and determination, they would make that future a reality.

…

The next day dawned clear and bright, the stormy weather having given way to a calm, sunny morning. The Red Keep was abuzz with activity as servants went about their duties and guards patrolled the halls. Daena Targaryen, sat on the floor of the nursery, playing with her dolls. Her brother, Baelor, was still asleep, his steady breathing a comforting background to her play.

Daena’s curly pale blonde hair, so similar to her mother’s, framed her delicate face. Her indigo eyes sparkled with the innocent curiosity of a child. She arranged her dolls in a circle, pretending they were having a grand feast. As she moved them about, her mind wandered to thoughts of her father and mother. She missed the times when her father would lift her high into the air and her mother would sing lullabies to her.

As she played, she heard footsteps and muffled voices approaching the nursery door. Her small hands stilled, and she looked up, her curiosity piqued. The voices became clearer, and she recognized the soft, familiar tones of her mother, Vaella, and another voice she couldn’t quite place.

The door was slightly ajar, and Daena, with the innate stealth of a child, crept towards it. She peered through the crack and saw her mother standing in the hallway, talking to a tall man with a stern expression—her great-grandsire, Otto Hightower.

“Vaella, you must consider the political ramifications,” Otto was saying, his voice low but insistent.

Vaella sighed, her face showing signs of fatigue. “I understand, Lord Otto. But my priority is Aegon’s recovery. The political matters can wait.”

Otto shook his head. “Every day we delay weakens our position. The Riverlands are partly secured for now, but we must act swiftly to maintain our advantage. The Blacks are not going to sit idly by.”

Vaella’s expression hardened. “I am aware of the stakes, Otto. But Aegon’s health is paramount. Without him, our position is even more precarious.”

Daena’s brow furrowed as she listened, the words swirling in her mind. Political ramifications, Riverlands, the Blacks—none of it made sense to her. She understood only that her mother was worried and that her great-grandsire was urging her to do something important.

Otto’s voice softened slightly. “I was wrong about you, Vaella. You’ve proven yourself more than capable. But now, more than ever, we need to present a united front. Aegon needs to know we are all working towards the same goal.”

Vaella nodded, though her eyes remained weary. “I appreciate your acknowledgment, Otto. I will do what needs to be done. But I will not sacrifice my family for politics.”

Otto sighed, his expression one of reluctant agreement. “Very well. But remember, time is not on our side. We must be vigilant.”

Daena watched as her mother placed a hand on Otto’s arm, a gesture of both reassurance and resolve. “I will handle it, Otto. Trust me.”

With that, Otto nodded and turned to leave, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. Vaella stood there for a moment, lost in thought, before turning back towards the nursery.

Daena quickly scampered back to her dolls, her mind racing with the bits of conversation she had overheard. As her mother entered the room, Daena looked up, her innocent eyes filled with questions she didn’t know how to ask.

“Good morning, my sweet girl,” Vaella said, her voice gentle as she knelt beside Daena and smoothed her hair. “What are you playing today?”

Daena held up one of her dolls, her brow still furrowed. “Mama, what does...what does poli-tickle mean?”

Vaella blinked in surprise, then smiled, a mix of amusement and tenderness in her eyes. “Political, Daena. It means things that grown-ups have to think about to make sure everyone is safe and happy.”

Daena nodded slowly, still processing the new word. “And the Riverlands? And the Blacks?”

Vaella’s smile faltered for a brief moment, but she recovered quickly. “The Riverlands are a place, my love, where some of our friends live. And the Blacks are...they’re just people who don’t agree with us. But you don’t need to worry about any of that.”

Daena’s little face scrunched up in concentration. “Okay, Mama. But you’re worried. I can tell.”

Vaella’s heart ached with the wisdom in her daughter’s eyes. She pulled Daena into a hug, holding her close. “Sometimes, Mama has to think about things that are hard. But you and your brother and father are what’s most important to me. Always.”

Daena hugged her mother tightly, comforted by the familiar warmth and love. “I love you, Mama.”

Vaella kissed the top of her daughter’s head, her voice soft and filled with emotion. “I love you too, Daena. More than anything.”

As they sat together on the floor, surrounded by dolls and toys, Vaella’s mind was filled with the complexities of the conversation she had with Otto. But in this moment, holding her daughter, she found a small measure of peace.

The day continued, and Daena returned to her play, her innocent curiosity satisfied for now. But the memory of the overheard conversation lingered in her young mind, a seed of understanding that would grow as she did. For now, she was content to be a child, loved and protected by her family, unaware of the full weight of the world around her.

Vaella watched her daughter with a mix of pride and sorrow, knowing that one day Daena would understand the full scope of the challenges they faced. But for today, she could let her be a child, innocent and free. And that, at least, was a small victory in a world filled with uncertainty.

…

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the Red Keep as Baelor and Daena played in the gardens under the watchful eyes of their nursemaids. The sounds of the city beyond the castle walls were a distant hum, creating a serene bubble for the children to enjoy their day.

Baelor was energetic, running around and pretending to be a dragon knight, while Daena followed more cautiously, her eyes bright with curiosity. The gardens were a labyrinth of hedges, flowers, and fountains, providing the perfect playground for the royal siblings.

As the children played, their grandmother, Alicent, approached, her expression softening at the sight of her grandchildren. "Baelor, Daena," she called, her voice warm and affectionate.

"Grandmother!" Baelor shouted, running to her with open arms.

Daena followed, a shy smile on her face. "Hello, Grandmother."

Alicent knelt to their level, embracing them both. "How are my favorite little dragons today?"

"We're good!" Baelor said excitedly. "We were just talking about our dragons. I can't wait until I can ride mine!"

Alicent smiled, her eyes twinkling. "I’m sure that day will come sooner than you think, Baelor."

Daena nodded eagerly. "I want to ride mine too, Grandmother. They’re so beautiful."

Alicent's heart warmed at their excitement. "And they will be even more beautiful when you’re both flying together."

As they continued to talk about their dragons, the children’s nursemaids hovered nearby, ready to intervene if needed. But Alicent enjoyed this rare moment of peace and happiness with her grandchildren.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of hushed voices nearby. Baelor, always curious, turned towards the sound. "Grandmother, who’s talking over there?"

Alicent followed his gaze and saw Lord Larys Strong and Grand Maester Orwyle engaged in a quiet conversation. She frowned slightly, her protective instincts flaring. "Stay here, children."

She stood, but before she could intervene, Baelor and Daena edged closer to the voices, their curiosity getting the better of them.

"...it's remarkable he's still alive," Larys was saying, his tone grim. "The King’s condition is precarious at best."

Grand Maester Orwyle nodded, his face lined with concern. "His bond with his dragon is strong, which is likely what’s keeping him alive. But even if he survives, he may never fully recover. And neither will his dragon."

Baelor's eyes widened as he processed the words, a mix of fear and confusion flooding his mind. Daena, sensing her brother's distress, took his hand, her own face reflecting his emotions.

Alicent, realizing the children had overheard, quickly moved to usher them away. "Come along, children. Let's not bother the grown-ups."

But before she could, another figure appeared—her brother, Gwayne Hightower. He smiled awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable. "Alicent, I didn’t expect to see you here."

Alicent forced a smile, trying to maintain composure. "Gwayne, it's good to see you. I’m spending some time with my grandchildren."

Gwayne looked at the children, his expression softening despite his awkwardness. "Hello, Baelor, Daena. How are you today?"

Baelor, still processing what he had overheard, managed a small smile. "We’re okay, Uncle Gwayne."

Daena nodded, her grip on Baelor's hand tightening. "We’re just talking about our dragons."

Gwayne's smile was strained as he looked at Daena, the child of the woman he had once coveted. "Dragons, huh? That sounds exciting."

Alicent noticed the tension and quickly moved to defuse it. "Why don't we all go inside and have some tea? I'm sure the children could use a rest."

Baelor and Daena nodded, their curiosity about the conversation with Lord Larys and Grand Maester Orwyle momentarily set aside. As they walked back inside, Alicent held their hands, her thoughts racing.

Once inside, they settled in a comfortable sitting room. Baelor and Daena sat close to Alicent, their eyes wide with the events of the day. Gwayne, still awkward, tried to make small talk. "So, Baelor, what’s your dragon’s name?"

Baelor perked up a little, happy to talk about something familiar. "His name is Auroxas. He’s really strong and brave."

Gwayne nodded, trying to appear genuinely interested. "And Daena, what about your dragon?"

Daena smiled shyly. "Her name is Glazhael. She’s beautiful and smart."

Alicent watched the interaction, relieved that the children seemed distracted from their earlier eavesdropping. But she couldn’t shake the worry that lingered in her heart. The news about Aegon’s condition weighed heavily on her mind.

After tea, Alicent escorted the children back to the nursery, her protective instincts on high alert. She knelt down to their level once more, her eyes filled with love and concern. "Baelor, Daena, I want you to promise me something."

They looked at her, their innocent faces attentive. "What is it, Grandmother?" Baelor asked.

"Promise me that you won’t worry about what you overheard today. Your father is strong, and he has many people who love him and are taking care of him."

Daena nodded solemnly. "We promise, Grandmother."

Baelor hesitated, then nodded too. "We promise."

Alicent hugged them tightly, her heart aching with the desire to shield them from the harsh realities of their world. "Good. Now, go play and be happy. Your mother and father need your smiles more than anything."

As the children returned to their play, Alicent watched them, her thoughts heavy with the burden of the news she had to bear. 

The day continued, filled with the innocent laughter of children and the quiet determination of those who loved them. In the midst of uncertainty, there was still hope, and Alicent clung to that hope with all her heart. For Aegon, for Vaella, and for the future of their family.

…

The small council chamber was filled with the scent of burning candles and the muted hum of conversations. The table was covered with maps, markers, and documents detailing their military positions and strategies. The members of the council were seated, their expressions reflecting the gravity of the situation.

Ser Criston Cole stood at the head of the table, his demeanor confident and resolute. "I've stationed men near Sunfyre at Rook's Rest to guard him. Initially, the dragon fed on the burned carcasses of the slain soldiers, but they are gone now. My men will continue to secure him with calves and sheep to eat. He seems to be recovering, but it's a slow process."

Lord Tayland Lannister, his brow furrowed with concern, spoke next. "Despite our monopoly on the Riverlands, there are still unrests. Some minor lords continue to advocate for Rhaenyra, even with Lord Tully admitting his defeat. The loyalty of these minor lords remains a significant issue."

Larys Strong nodded in agreement, his voice measured. "I've heard that Walys Mooton, Lord of Maidenpool, is accumulating forces to take back Rook's Rest in the future. His ambitions could become a significant threat if not addressed."

Lord Jasper Wylde added his own thoughts, his tone urgent. "We should focus our forces on retaking Harrenhal. Its strategic position is crucial, and allowing Daemon to hold it weakens our overall position."

Aemond, seated beside Criston, leaned forward, his gaze intense. "Criston and I will lead the armies ourselves. Harrenhal must be taken, and we need to show our enemies that we are not to be trifled with."

Tayland Lannister nodded, though his expression remained serious. "My brother Jason will be ready to clash with the remaining defiant Riverlords at the Red Fork. Our forces are prepared, but we must coordinate our efforts to ensure success."

Aemond glanced around the table, his gaze settling on Otto Hightower, who had recently been reinstated as the Hand of the King and now served Aemond. "Has Vaella agreed to our plan?"

Otto, his demeanor calm and composed, responded, "I have spoken to her, but she remains firm that her presence is more needed here. She is concerned for Aegon and the stability of King's Landing. However, I hope she will see the wisdom of joining our campaign in time."

Aemond's eyes narrowed slightly, his frustration evident. "We need her strength and leadership. Vaella with her dragon’s presence on the battlefield would bolster our forces and send a strong message to our enemies."

Otto inclined his head, acknowledging Aemond's point. "I understand, Prince Aemond. I will continue to speak with her and try to persuade her of the necessity of her involvement. For now, we must proceed with our plans and ensure that our strategies are sound."

Criston placed his hand on the map, pointing to key locations. "We will begin our preparations immediately. Our forces will be divided strategically, with contingents ready to support each other as needed. Sunfyre's recovery is crucial, but we cannot wait for him to be fully healed before we act."

The council members nodded in agreement, their expressions resolute. The plan was set, and each member understood their role in the coming battles. The stakes were high, and the future of the realm depended on their success.

As the meeting concluded, Aemond stood, his gaze sweeping over the council members. "We must remain vigilant and united. Our enemies are formidable, but with our combined strength and resolve, we will prevail. Harrenhal will be ours, and the Riverlands will know the might of the crown."

The council members rose, their determination palpable. The road ahead was fraught with challenges, but they were ready to face them head-on. The fate of the realm hung in the balance, and they would stop at nothing to secure their victory.

As they exited the chamber, Otto lingered behind, his thoughts heavy with the weight of his responsibilities. He knew that convincing Vaella to join the campaign would be difficult, but he also understood the necessity of her involvement. With a final glance at the maps and plans spread across the table, he resolved to speak with her again in the future, hoping to find a way to bridge the gap between duty and family.

The sun set over the Red Keep, casting long shadows over the city below. The preparations for the coming battles were already underway, and the air was thick with anticipation. The council members, united in their purpose, would face the challenges ahead with courage and determination. The realm's future depended on their actions, and they were ready to meet the challenge.

…

The cool evening breeze swept through the halls of the Red Keep as Aemond Targaryen made his way to Vaella's chambers. His thoughts were heavy with the burden of leadership and the pressing need to bolster their forces on the battlefield. He knew that Vaella's presence, along with her dragon Cannibal, could be the key to their success.

He found Vaella in her private sitting room, the flickering candlelight casting a warm glow on her pale features. She looked up as he entered, her expression a mix of weariness and resolve.

"Aemond," she greeted, her voice soft but steady. "What brings you here?"

Aemond took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "Vaella, we need you on the battlefield. Your presence, and that of Cannibal, would be a powerful force against our enemies."

Vaella sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I understand the need, Aemond, but what happens if I leave and King's Landing is left exposed? If Rhaenyra finds an opening, she could take the city."

Aemond moved closer, his gaze intense. "We have strong defenses in place, Vaella. The presence of the Kingsguard and our loyal soldiers will protect the city. Your strength is needed to turn the tide in our favor. Your presence alone would bolster the morale of our troops."

Vaella's eyes searched his, the weight of her decision evident in her expression. "Larys informed me that Rhaenyra is trying to find new riders for the unclaimed dragons on Dragonstone and Dragonmont. She calls them Dragonseeds, descendants of an archaic tradition King Jaehaerys forbade. What if Rhaenyra decides to send them to King's Landing?"

Aemond's jaw tightened at the mention of the Dragonseeds. "If she sends them, we will be ready. We have faced dragons before, and we will face them again. Your presence on the battlefield will force her hand, make her desperate, and we can use that to our advantage."

Vaella shook her head slightly, her worry evident. "And if she sends them here while I'm away? Aegon is still recovering, and the city cannot withstand an assault without its strongest dragon."

Aemond placed a hand on her shoulder, his grip firm but reassuring. "I understand your concerns, Vaella. But we cannot allow fear to paralyze us. You are one of our greatest strengths. With Cannibal, you can turn the tide in our favor. We need you, the realm needs you."

Vaella looked away, her thoughts a storm of conflicting emotions. She wanted to protect her family, to ensure the safety of Aegon and their children. But she also knew the importance of their cause, the need to secure their future.

"Aemond," she said quietly, "I want to do what's right for the realm, but I can't ignore the risks. If Rhaenyra attacks while I'm gone..."

Aemond's voice softened, his eyes earnest. "We will take precautions, strengthen our defenses further. I will ensure that the city is protected. But we need your strength on the battlefield. With you and Cannibal, we can deliver a decisive blow to our enemies."

Vaella met his gaze, the weight of her decision pressing down on her. She took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. "I understand the need, Aemond, but my place is here, with my family. I cannot leave Aegon and our children unprotected."

Aemond's eyes narrowed slightly, his frustration evident. "We need every advantage we can get, Vaella. Your presence on the battlefield could turn the tide in our favor."

Vaella shook her head firmly. "I cannot risk leaving King's Landing undefended. My duty is to my family and to the city. If Rhaenyra attacks while I'm gone, everything we've fought for could be lost."

Aemond sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I understand your concerns, Vaella. But we are running out of options. We need your strength."

Vaella placed a hand on his arm, her eyes filled with determination. "I will support you in every way I can from here. I will ensure that the city is fortified and ready for any threat. But I cannot leave my family unprotected. Not now."

Aemond nodded reluctantly, his frustration evident but tempered by understanding. "Very well, Vaella. We will proceed with our plans. But know that we may call upon you if the situation becomes dire."

Vaella nodded, her resolve firm. "I understand, Aemond. And I will be ready if that time comes. But for now, my place is here."

As they exited the chamber, Vaella's mind was already racing with plans and strategies. The decision weighed heavily on her, but she knew it was the right one. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but with her family and her dragon by her side, she would face it head-on.

The preparations began immediately, the Red Keep buzzing with activity. Vaella met with the commanders, outlining the measures needed to fortify the city. Aemond coordinated with the troops, ensuring that their forces were ready for the coming battles.

In the quiet moments, Vaella found herself reflecting on the conversation with Aemond. She knew the risks, but she also knew that their cause was just. With Cannibal, she would be a force to be reckoned with, and together, they would turn the tide of the war.

As the sun set over King's Landing, casting a golden glow over the city, Vaella stood on the balcony of the chambers, looking out over the realm she was determined to protect. 

In the distance, the silhouette of Cannibal loomed, a reminder of the strength and power she wielded. With a final, resolute nod, Vaella turned and reentered the chambers, ready to lead her people from within the walls of the Red Keep.

…

Two days after Aemond and Criston led their forces to retake Harrenhal, the atmosphere in the Red Keep remained tense but hopeful. Vaella stood by Aegon's side, watching intently as Grand Maester Orwyle carefully changed the bandages that covered Aegon's burns and broken bones.

The chamber was filled with the scent of medicinal herbs and the soft rustle of Orwyle’s robes as he worked. Aegon lay on the bed, his face a mask of controlled pain. Though the agony had lessened in recent days, it was still a constant presence.

Vaella, her hand gently resting on Aegon's, leaned closer to the Grand Maester. "How long will it take for his bones to heal, Maester Orwyle?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern and exhaustion.

Orwyle looked up, his expression thoughtful. "The bones themselves are healing quite nicely, Your Grace. They should mend fully within a few more weeks. The fractures were severe, but they are setting well. However, it is what comes after that is most difficult."

Vaella's brow furrowed. "What do you mean? Will he not fully recover?"

Orwyle sighed, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and caution. "The physical healing of bones and flesh is one thing. The burns will leave scars, and his body will take time to regain its strength. But the true challenge lies in the long-term effects. The muscles and tendons have been severely damaged, and there may be lasting pain or limitations in his movement. Some things may never be the same."

Aegon winced as Orwyle applied a fresh layer of salve to his burns. His voice was strained but determined. "I will recover, Vaella. It will just take time."

Vaella squeezed his hand, her eyes filled with unwavering support. "We will get through this, Aegon."

Orwyle nodded, his hands gentle but precise as he finished the bandages. "Your Majesty, your progress has been remarkable. With your resilience and the Queen's care, I have no doubt you will achieve much in your recovery."

Aegon managed a weak smile, the pain lines around his eyes softening slightly. "Thank you, Maester. Your words mean a great deal."

As Orwyle packed away his supplies, Vaella turned to him once more. "Is there anything else we can do to aid his recovery? Any treatments or exercises that could help?"

Orwyle nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed, Your Grace. Gentle exercises and movements will help to maintain flexibility and strength. As his pain lessens, he can begin to move more, but it must be done gradually. Patience is key."

Vaella listened intently, absorbing every detail. "We will do whatever it takes. Just tell us what needs to be done."

Orwyle smiled, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "Your devotion is commendable, Your Grace."

Aegon, his voice still tinged with pain but filled with resolve, looked at Vaella. "I am grateful for you, Vaella. Your strength gives me hope."

Vaella leaned in, kissing his forehead gently. "And your strength inspires me, Aegon. We will face this challenge, as we have faced all others—together."

The Grand Maester had barely left the room when Aegon shifted restlessly in bed, his eyes open and fixed on Vaella. She sat by his side, her presence a comforting anchor in the storm of his pain and uncertainty.

"Vaella," Aegon began, his voice soft but filled with concern. "How are you feeling? You've been under so much pressure, and with the child you're carrying... I'm worried about you."

Vaella looked at him, her eyes filled with love and determination. "I'm managing, Aegon. My primary concern is your recovery and the safety of our family. The pressure is there, but we will get through this together."

Aegon reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he took hers. "I don't want you to bear this burden alone. You're strong, but you don't have to face everything by yourself."

Vaella squeezed his hand gently, her touch conveying a world of comfort. "I know, Aegon. And you don't have to either. We're a team."

Aegon's eyes softened, his love for her evident in his gaze. "I wish I could do more. I feel so helpless lying here, unable to protect you and our children."

Vaella leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. "You're doing everything you can, Aegon. Your strength and resilience inspire us all. And you're not helpless. Your presence, your leadership, and your love are more powerful than you realize."

Aegon closed his eyes for a moment, drawing strength from her words. When he opened them again, there was a hint of hesitation. "Vaella, there's something I need to tell you. Something I did, to ensure your safety."

Vaella's brows furrowed slightly, sensing his unease. "What is it, Aegon?"

He took a deep breath, his grip on her hand tightening. "I made a deal with Larys Strong. If anything happens, if the worst comes to pass, he has promised to take you and our children to safety."

Vaella's concern deepened, her mind racing with the implications of such a deal. "Larys Strong? Aegon, deals with him are like charming a snake. You can never be sure of his true intentions."

Aegon nodded, his expression troubled. "I know, Vaella. But I had to ensure that you and our children would be protected, no matter what happens. Larys has resources and connections that could be invaluable in a crisis."

Vaella's heart ached with the weight of his worry, but she forced herself to remain calm. "I understand why you did it, Aegon. But we must be cautious. Larys is not someone to be trusted lightly. We need to be prepared for anything."

Aegon looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and determination. "I couldn't bear the thought of something happening to you or our children. I needed to know that there was a plan in place."

Vaella leaned in closer, her forehead resting against his. "We'll be careful, Aegon. We'll watch for any signs of betrayal and be ready to act. But right now, we need to focus on your recovery and strengthening our position."

Aegon sighed, his breath warm against her skin. "You're right, Vaella. As always. I trust you more than anyone."

Vaella smiled, her heart swelling with love for him. They lay there, their hands intertwined, drawing strength and comfort from each other. The weight of their responsibilities and the uncertainty of the future pressed heavily on them, but their bond remained unbreakable.

As the night deepened, they talked quietly, sharing their fears and hopes, their love a beacon in the darkness. Aegon held her close, his heart filled with gratitude for her unwavering support.

…

The small council chamber was filled with an air of anticipation and tension as its members gathered around the large, intricately carved table. The news of Harrenhal's fate had reached King's Landing, and all eyes were on Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King, as he prepared to deliver the report.

Queen Dowager Alicent sat at the head of the table, her expression composed but alert. Beside her, Grand Maester Orwyle organized his notes, his face a mask of scholarly concentration. Lords Jasper Wylde, Tayland Lannister, and Larys Strong awaited the news with a mixture of impatience and curiosity.

Otto cleared his throat, drawing the council's attention. "I have received word from Prince Regent Aemond and Ser Criston Cole regarding their campaign at Harrenhal."

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. Otto continued, his voice steady. "Harrenhal has been taken without a single drop of blood shed. Prince Daemon and Lord Corlys abandoned the castle and their forces before our arrival, leaving their still-loyal rivermen behind to face Lord Jason's armies."

A collective sigh of relief and murmurs of approval filled the room. Lord Jasper Wylde, his eyes bright with interest, leaned forward. "No bloodshed? That is remarkable news. It seems our strategy has paid off."

Otto nodded, his expression one of cautious optimism. "Indeed. Aemond and Ser Criston were able to secure the castle swiftly and without conflict. The rivermen loyal to Daemon have clashed with Lord Jason's forces, but Harrenhal itself is now under our control."

Lord Tayland Lannister, his brow furrowed, spoke up. "What of Daemon and Corlys? Where have they gone?"

Otto's gaze darkened slightly. "Their exact whereabouts are unknown, but it is clear they intend to regroup and continue their resistance. We must remain vigilant and prepared for their next move."

Larys Strong, ever the strategist, leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled. "Their departure from Harrenhal may indicate a shift in their tactics. We should consider the possibility that they are planning a more concentrated effort elsewhere."

Jasper Wylde glanced around the table before asking, "And where is Queen Vaella during these developments?"

Alicent, who had been listening intently, answered with a calm authority. "Queen Vaella has taken the children to the Dragonpit. She is ensuring their safety and overseeing the care of the dragons."

The mention of the Dragonpit brought a murmur of approval from the council members. Tayland nodded, his expression thoughtful. "It is wise of her to be proactive in securing the children and our dragons."

Otto took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over the assembled council. "We have achieved a significant victory with the capture of Harrenhal, but we must not become complacent. Our enemies are still out there, and they will not rest."

Grand Maester Orwyle interjected, his tone grave. "We must also consider the implications of Daemon and Corlys's movements. If they are planning a new strategy, we must be prepared to counter it."

Alicent's eyes flickered with determination. "We will remain vigilant. The safety of King's Landing and our family is our top priority."

Larys Strong leaned forward, his voice a low rumble. "We should also keep a close watch on any signs of rebellion within our own ranks. Loyalty can be a fragile thing in times of war."

Otto nodded in agreement. "Indeed. We must ensure that our forces remain united and strong. Any signs of dissent must be addressed swiftly and decisively."

As the council members discussed their strategies and plans, the atmosphere in the room shifted from one of relief to one of determined resolve.

In the quiet moments between the discussions, Alicent's thoughts turned to Vaella and the children at the Dragonpit. She knew Vaella's presence there was a symbol of strength and protection, a reminder that their family was united in purpose and resolve.

The meeting continued, with each member contributing their insights and strategies. They discussed the fortification of Harrenhal, the movements of their enemies, and the necessity of maintaining vigilance within their own ranks.

As the meeting drew to a close, Otto stood, his expression one of solemn determination. "We have achieved a significant victory, but we must continue to push forward. Our enemies are still out there, and they will not hesitate to strike. We must be ready."

The council members nodded in agreement, their resolve strengthened by the news of Harrenhal's capture. They knew the challenges ahead would be great, but with unity and determination, they believed they could overcome them.

…

The Dragonpit loomed large and imposing, its ancient stone walls echoing with the roars of dragons and the footsteps of dragonkeepers. Inside, the air was filled with the scent of fire and the sound of leathery wings rustling. Vaella stood at a distance, her eyes fixed on her children as they engaged with their dragons under the careful guidance of the dragonkeepers.

Baelor, his face a mask of concentration, stood before Auroxas, his dragon. The magnificent creature loomed over him, its scales gleaming in the dim light. Baelor was small compared to the massive dragon, but there was a spark of determination in his eyes that made him seem larger.

A dragonkeeper knelt beside Baelor, his voice calm and instructive. "Remember, young prince, the key to commanding a dragon is confidence and clarity. A dragon responds to strength and surety. Now, let's practice the basic commands again."

Baelor nodded, his small hands clenched into fists as he steeled himself. "Dracarys," he commanded, his voice firm despite his age.

Auroxas's eyes glinted, and with a low rumble, he released a controlled stream of fire onto a designated target. The fire blazed bright, and Baelor's eyes widened with a mix of awe and pride.

"Good," the dragonkeeper said with a nod. "Now, try the command to stop."

Baelor took a deep breath, his voice steady. "Keligon."

Auroxas ceased his fire, his massive head lowering to nuzzle Baelor gently. The dragonkeeper smiled, placing a hand on Baelor's shoulder. "Well done, Prince Baelor. You are learning quickly."

Nearby, Daena was engrossed in her own interaction with her dragon, Glazhael. The dragon was smaller and more lithe than Auroxas, her scales shimmering with a silvery-blue hue on her light green coloring. Daena's face was lit with excitement as she ran her fingers along Glazhael's neck, her voice a soft murmur of affection.

"You're so beautiful, Glazhael," Daena whispered, her eyes shining with adoration.

A dragonkeeper approached, offering guidance. "Princess Daena, would you like to practice some commands with Glazhael as well?"

Daena nodded eagerly, her small hands resting on Glazhael's warm scales. "Yes, please."

The dragonkeeper smiled, showing her the basic commands. "Start with dracarys, like your brother."

Daena took a deep breath, her voice clear and confident. "Dracarys."

Glazhael responded instantly, releasing a small but controlled burst of fire. Daena's laughter filled the Dragonpit, her eyes sparkling with joy.

"Very good, Princess Daena," the dragonkeeper praised. "Now, the command to stop."

"Keligon," Daena commanded, her voice steady.

Glazhael obeyed, her head lowering to nuzzle Daena affectionately. The dragonkeeper smiled, pleased with the progress. "Excellent, Princess. You have a natural bond with Glazhael."

Vaella watched from a distance, her heart swelling with pride and love as she observed her children. They were growing into their roles, their bonds with their dragons strengthening with each passing day. The sight of them filled her with hope for the future, despite the uncertainties that lay ahead.

One of the dragonkeepers approached Vaella, his expression respectful. "Your Grace, your children are showing great promise. Their connection with their dragons is strong."

Vaella nodded, her eyes never leaving Baelor and Daena. "Thank you. They are brave and determined. I have no doubt they will grow into fine dragonriders."

The dragonkeeper smiled, his admiration evident. "Indeed, Your Grace. They are a testament to your strength and guidance."

Vaella's heart warmed at the words. She continued to watch as Baelor and Daena practiced their commands, their confidence growing with each successful attempt. The dragons responded to them with a trust and loyalty that spoke volumes of the bond they shared.

After a while, the dragonkeepers called for a break, and Baelor and Daena ran to their mother, their faces flushed with excitement.

"Mother, did you see?" Baelor exclaimed, his eyes shining. "Auroxas listened to me!"

"And Glazhael too!" Daena added, her smile wide. "She did exactly what I told her."

Vaella knelt down, wrapping her arms around her children in a warm embrace. "I saw, my brave ones. You both did wonderfully. I am so proud of you."

Baelor looked up at her, his expression serious. "Mother, do you think we will be able to help Father and Uncle Aemond with our dragons one day?"

Vaella's heart swelled with pride and love. "Yes, Baelor. One day, you will be a great help to them. But for now, your training is the most important thing. Learn well, grow strong, and when the time comes, you will be ready."

Daena hugged her mother tightly. "We will, Mother. We promise."

Vaella held them close, her heart filled with hope and determination. As they stood together in the Dragonpit, surrounded by the ancient creatures that symbolized their family's strength and legacy, she felt a renewed sense of purpose. The challenges ahead were many, but with the love and courage of her family, she knew they could face anything.

The day continued with more training and laughter, the bond between mother, children, and dragons growing ever stronger. As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the Dragonpit, Vaella felt a deep sense of peace and resolve.

Together, they would face the future, their love and unity a beacon of hope in the darkest of times. And with each passing day, Baelor and Daena grew closer to their destiny, their strength and determination a testament to the power of their family's legacy.

…

The storm clouds gathered ominously over Dragonstone, casting long shadows over the ancient, volcanic fortress. The waves crashed violently against the rocky shores, as if mirroring the turmoil within. Daemon Targaryen, his face set in grim determination, ascended the steps to the great hall where Rhaenyra awaited him.

Rhaenyra stood by the large, arched windows, her gaze fixed on the tumultuous sea. The weight of recent losses and the safety of her children weighed heavily on her mind. The door opened, and Daemon entered, his presence commanding attention.

"Rhaenyra," Daemon greeted, his voice a mix of urgency and resolve.

Rhaenyra turned to face him, her expression weary but determined. "Daemon, what news do you bring?"

Daemon approached her, his eyes flashing with intensity. "We must find a way to draw Vaella and her dragon, Cannibal, out of King's Landing and kill them. If we are to take the capital, she must be eliminated."

Rhaenyra's face paled, a flicker of horror crossing her features. "You speak of killing my sister, Daemon. That is not something I take lightly."

Daemon's jaw tightened, his frustration evident. "Rhaenyra, Vaella is the reason we are losing ground. Her presence and that of her dragon are bolstering Aegon's forces. You refuse to strike more firmly against her, and it is costing us dearly."

Rhaenyra's eyes filled with pain and determination. "She is my sister, Daemon. I cannot simply order her death without a second thought. There must be another way."

Daemon stepped closer, his voice lowering to a fervent whisper. "There is no other way, Rhaenyra. She is a threat that we cannot ignore. You must act decisively if we are to have any hope of winning this war."

Rhaenyra turned away, her gaze returning to the stormy sea. "I will act, Daemon. But first, I must ensure the safety of our children. They must be out of danger and escorted away from here."

Daemon's eyes softened slightly, understanding her concern. "I understand your need to protect our children, but time is not on our side. Every moment we delay gives Vaella and Aegon more time to strengthen their position."

Rhaenyra sighed deeply, the weight of her responsibilities pressing down on her. "I will arrange for the children to be taken to safety. Once they are secure, we will discuss our next move."

Daemon nodded, his expression resolute. "Very well. But know this, Rhaenyra: we cannot afford to hesitate. Vaella's presence in King's Landing is a sword hanging over our heads. We must act swiftly and decisively."

Rhaenyra turned to face him, her eyes blazing with a mix of resolve and sorrow. "I will do what needs to be done, Daemon. But I will not sacrifice my sister lightly. We will find a way to draw her out and deal with her, but it must be done with care."

Daemon's expression softened slightly, his respect for Rhaenyra's strength evident. "I trust your judgment, Rhaenyra. We will find a way."

As they stood together, the storm outside raging, Rhaenyra felt a renewed sense of determination. The path ahead was fraught with danger and difficult choices, but she knew that with Daemon by her side, they would find a way to overcome the obstacles that lay before them.

The great hall fell silent, the weight of their conversation hanging heavily in the air. Rhaenyra turned her gaze to the windows once more, her mind racing with plans and strategies. The safety of her children was paramount, but so was the fate of the realm.

"Daemon," she said quietly, her voice filled with a mix of resolve and sorrow, "make the arrangements for the children. Ensure their safe passage."

Daemon nodded, his eyes filled with determination. "I will see to it personally. Our children will be safe, Rhaenyra."

Rhaenyra's gaze remained fixed on the stormy sea, her thoughts a turbulent mix of love and duty. "Once they are safe, we will act. Vaella's presence in King's Landing cannot be ignored any longer."

Daemon placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We will find a way, Rhaenyra. Together, we will secure the future of the realm."

As the echoes of Daemon's footsteps faded away, Rhaenyra Targaryen remained standing by the arched windows of Dragonstone's great hall. The storm outside had calmed to a steady drizzle, its soft patter on the glass a haunting melody that mirrored her turbulent thoughts. Alone, Rhaenyra allowed herself to be enveloped by the memories that weighed heavily on her heart.

She closed her eyes and let herself be transported back to a time when she and Vaella were just children. Vaella was only six years old, a small, delicate girl with eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of ages. Rhaenyra remembered the day vividly, the memory as clear as if it had happened yesterday.

They were in the gardens of the Red Keep, the sun shining brightly and flowers in full bloom. Vaella, her pale blonde hair shining like spun gold, had approached Rhaenyra with a look of intense curiosity and something deeper—something troubling.

"Rhaenyra," Vaella had said, her voice small and hesitant. "Is it true that I took Baelon's soul so I could live?"

Rhaenyra had been taken aback by the question, her heart aching for her little sister. She knelt down to Vaella's level, placing her hands gently on Vaella's shoulders. "Who told you such a thing, Vaella?"

Vaella's eyes had welled with tears, her lower lip trembling. "Some of the maids. They said that when Mother was dying, the Maester took Baelon out first, and he died so I could live. They said that I took his soul."

Rhaenyra's heart had broken at the sight of her sister's distress. She pulled Vaella into a tight embrace, holding her close. "Listen to me, Vaella. That is not true. You did not take Baelon's soul. What happened was not your fault. You were both brought into this world under difficult circumstances, and it was fate that decided who would live."

Vaella had sniffled, her small hands clutching at Rhaenyra's dress. "But why did he have to die? Why did I live instead?"

Rhaenyra had stroked Vaella's hair, trying to find the right words. "Sometimes, fate makes decisions that we can't understand. Baelon was meant to be the heir, but the gods had other plans. You are here for a reason, Vaella. You have a purpose."

As Rhaenyra stood alone in the great hall of Dragonstone, the memory of that conversation weighed heavily on her. She had always tried to protect Vaella, to reassure her that her life had meaning. But now, as she reflected on the twists of fate, she couldn't help but feel a pang of resentment and fear.

Baelon had been the boy who should have been the heir, the one who was meant to carry on their father's legacy. But fate had deemed it otherwise. Vaella had survived, and in doing so, had formed a bond with their half-brother Aegon, a bond that had ultimately led to her becoming Queen, standing before the realm in a position that Rhaenyra believed was her birthright.

Rhaenyra's thoughts spiraled as she considered the uncanny parallels. Fate had intervened once, taking Baelon and leaving Vaella. And now, once again, fate had placed Vaella in a position of power, denying Rhaenyra what she had always believed was hers by right of birth.

She could not shake the feeling that there was more at play than mere coincidence. The gods, or perhaps some greater force, seemed to have a plan that she could not see. Vaella's survival and rise to power were threads woven into the tapestry of their family's history, threads that seemed to intersect and diverge in ways that defied understanding.

Rhaenyra's heart ached with a mixture of love, jealousy, and fear. She loved her sister, but she also resented the way fate had favored Vaella. And she feared what this meant for her own destiny. Was she fighting a losing battle against forces beyond her control? Was her struggle to claim the throne destined to be thwarted by the very fabric of fate?

As she stood there, lost in her thoughts, a tear slipped down her cheek. The burden of her responsibilities, the weight of her decisions, and the uncertainty of her future pressed heavily upon her. She knew she had to act, to protect her children and secure her position, but the thought of striking against Vaella filled her with dread.

"Rhaenyra," came a soft voice from behind her.

She turned to see one of her trusted advisors, a look of concern on his face. "Are you alright, my queen?"

Rhaenyra wiped the tear from her cheek, steeling herself. "Yes, I'm fine. I was just... reflecting on the past."

The advisor nodded, understanding. "The past can be a heavy burden, but we must look to the future. Your children need you, and the realm needs your strength."

Rhaenyra took a deep breath, nodding. "You're right. We must focus on what lies ahead."

As she gathered her resolve, she knew that the path before her was fraught with difficult choices. The memories of the past would always be with her, but she had to forge ahead, guided by her love for her family and her determination to secure their future.

The storm outside had calmed, but the storm within Rhaenyra's heart raged on. She would find a way to navigate the treacherous waters of fate, to protect those she loved, and to claim her birthright. The journey would be perilous, but she was ready to face whatever came her way.

…

The dawn broke over Rook's Rest with a foreboding stillness, the sky painted in shades of gray and muted gold. The castle stood imposing against the horizon, its high walls and sturdy gates a symbol of resistance. Inside the castle, Aegon II's forces prepared for the day, unaware of the storm that was about to descend upon them.

Lord Walys Mooton of Maidenpool, a seasoned warrior known for his bravery and strategic mind, had rallied his men for an audacious attack. Determined to reclaim Rook's Rest from the grip of Aegon's forces, he had devised a bold plan to strike at the heart of their strength—Sunfyre, the formidable dragon of Aegon II.

Walys gathered his bravest men in the early morning light, their faces set with determination and resolve. "Today, we take back what is ours," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of his conviction. "Sunfyre is their greatest weapon, but he is also their greatest weakness. If we slay the dragon, we cripple their forces and reclaim our honor."

The men nodded, their eyes glinting with steely determination. They knew the risks, but they also knew the stakes. Armed with spears, crossbows, and swords, they followed Walys as he led them through the forest, their footsteps muffled by the damp earth.

As they approached Rook's Rest, the air grew tense with anticipation. The sight of Sunfyre, gleaming with golden scales, brought a collective intake of breath from the attackers. The dragon lay in a clearing, his massive form coiled in rest but alert, his eyes flickering with the light of the rising sun.

Walys raised his hand, signaling his men to spread out and surround the dragon. "Remember, aim for the eyes and the throat," he instructed, his voice low but firm. "We strike hard and fast."

The first volley of arrows was loosed, whistling through the air towards Sunfyre. The dragon's eyes snapped open, and with a roar that shook the ground, he unfurled his massive wings. Despite the awkward angle of his healed wing, he moved with a deadly grace.

Sunfyre's tail lashed out, knocking several attackers off their feet. Flames erupted from his maw, engulfing those too slow to retreat. The air filled with the acrid smell of burning flesh and the screams of the dying.

Walys, undeterred, charged forward with his men. "Press the attack!" he shouted, his voice rising above the chaos. He aimed his spear at Sunfyre's throat, but the dragon anticipated the strike. With a swift motion, Sunfyre's tail swung around, striking Walys and sending him crashing to the ground.

The battle raged on, fierce and bloody. Sunfyre's rage was unrelenting, his flames cutting swathes through the ranks of the attackers. Despite their bravery, Walys's men were no match for the dragon's fury. Threescore fell to his tail and flames, their bodies littering the ground.

Walys, struggling to his feet, faced Sunfyre with grim determination. "For Maidenpool!" he cried, launching one final, desperate attack. But Sunfyre's jaws closed around him, ending his life in a burst of fire and blood.

The remaining attackers, seeing their leader fall, began to retreat. Sunfyre, his rage unabated, pursued them with terrifying speed, his flames scorching the earth in his wake. The survivors fled into the forest, their courage broken by the dragon's might.

Within the walls of Rook's Rest, the defenders watched the battle with a mixture of awe and horror. Sunfyre's victory was absolute, but it came at a cost. The dragon, though victorious, bore the scars of his previous battles, his movements hindered by his injured wing.

As the sun set, casting long shadows over the battlefield, Sunfyre took to the sky. Despite the awkward angle of his wing, he managed to lift off, disappearing into the twilight. His departure left the defenders and attackers alike in stunned silence, the aftermath of the battle a stark reminder of the power and fury of dragons.

In the days that followed, rumors spread of Sunfyre's disappearance. Some said he had flown to a distant mountain to heal, while others whispered that he had gone waiting for the call of his rider. Despite the uncertainty, one thing was clear—Sunfyre had recovered enough to fly once again, and his presence loomed large over the land.

The men of Maidenpool mourned their fallen lord, but their resolve remained unbroken. The loss of Walys Mooton was a heavy blow, but they vowed to continue the fight, their spirits fueled by a desire for revenge and a determination to reclaim their homeland.

In the quiet aftermath, as the sun set over the blood-soaked ground, the defenders of Rook's Rest took stock of their losses and prepared for what lay ahead. The battle had been won, but the war was far from over. The shadow of Sunfyre lingered, a constant reminder of the power that could tip the scales of fate.

As night fell, the fires of the battlefield burned low, casting flickering shadows over the fallen. The men of Maidenpool, their ranks thinned but their spirits unyielding, retreated to regroup and plan their next move. The defenders of Rook's Rest, weary but resolute, fortified their positions, knowing that the fight was far from over.

The siege of Rook's Rest had ended in blood and fire, but the echoes of the battle would resonate for weeks to come. Sunfyre's departure left a void that was both a relief and a foreboding, a reminder that the power of dragons could not be easily tamed or defeated.In the silence of the night, the wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the promise of more battles to come. The fate of Rook's Rest, and indeed the realm, hung in the balance, swayed by the unpredictable and deadly force of dragonfire.

[thedragonagelesbian]

ocs + dragon age demon pairings

yippeeeeeeeeeeeeee

(tagging folks who expressed interest tytytytyty ily all smmmmm @hexblooddruid @fllagellant @ghostwise andddddd if any of you want to share for your ocs... 👀👀👀)

Vidreu Aeducan ~ Desire Demon

Dru is tricky because they aren't strongly motivated by the kinds of emotions that demons feed on. They're largely guided by academic curiosity and dispassionate pragmatism, but she could be tempted by forbidden knowledge in a heartbeat. (Indeed, she defiled the Urn of Sacred Ashes for precisely that reason.) A desire demon could readily exploit that thirst-- for answers, for understanding, for secrets.

Luc Surana ~ Despair Demon

Everything that Luc has--his anger and his snark and his defiance--either grows out of or masks a profound sense of nihilism. Nothing matters, there's no point in trying, and caring is just setting yourself up for heartbreak down the road.

(In the AU where Alistair breaks up with him after the Landsmeet, Luc summons one by accident teehee)

Cyrus Hawke ~ Pride Demon

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh won't someone please tell him what a good boy he is and what a good job he's done bleeding out for others, won't someone please give him a good grade in self-sacrifice.

As a general rule, I'm a strong believer that the best demonic temptations are precisely those that characters wouldn't think they'd be affected by, because if you know something is a flaw of yours, you can guard against it. Cyrus' humility is very genuine, but below it is a profound craving for recognition that he won't let himself acknowledge, making it the perfect weak point.

Dahlian Lavellan ~ Sloth Demon

Dahlian has been tired since the moment she first woke up in Haven, weary under the mantle of Inquisitorial duty and constantly performing as its cold, professional leader. It would take some prying to pull her away from that duty, toward restfulness, but wouldn't it be so nice to share just a moment's repose with her daughter?

Yiseeril Trevelyan ~ Hunger Demon

Yiseeril's pride is dangerous, yes, but she's been haunted by her own personal hunger demon/Fade tongue situationship, Vanity, for years and knows how to resist her temptations. What could be fatal is pushing that pride to its extreme, past ambition and into apotheosis, starved for power and sated by nothing short of godhood.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Dragon Goddess Mother 2

Tesla

-As soon as you told Nikola that you were pregnant, his mind broke, for at least an hour, he couldn’t comprehend what you had said, pointing at your belly with wide eyes.

-His shock was amusing but as soon as he was able to form words again, he was elated, sweeping you into his arms, twirling you around with such glee that you couldn’t help but smile.

-He was with you every step of the way through your pregnancy, which started out rough, your morning sickness had been brutal, but once past that, besides not being able to stand up on your own, it was smooth sailing.

-You were both stunned that you had twin boys, they both had your golden colored eyes but they looked exactly like Nikola, which made you pout for a few hours afterwards, which Nikola couldn’t do anything about, finding your anger amusing.

-They grew into spitting images of their father and Nikola was overjoyed to teach them both about anything and everything he could and the soaked it up like sponges.

-By the age of five, you had three geniuses running around your home.

-The twins learned that they could get away with a lot since they looked so similar, getting double treats from the servants or their father, but the one person they couldn’t fool was you.

-You were the only one that could ever tell them apart, something they couldn’t understand, which lead to them observing you like two little hawks.

-Your boys were in awe when you changed into your dragon form when Kand came, demanding you back, and you very quickly put him in his place, amazing your boys that you were so powerful.

-When you had to attend a meeting with your parents with the other constellations, your boys saw that as an excuse to get up to some mischief, causing their father to panic as he couldn’t find them, tearing the whole house apart looking for his boys.

-Nikola sighed, hands on his hips before he spoke out loudly, “I didn’t want to do this boys, but you leave me no choice! I must call your mother to ask for her help to find you two!”

-He turned and grinned, seeing his sons holding hands, right in front of him, beaming up at him.

-He grabbed them both, one under each arm and took them to the kitchen for some snacks, and after a bit of begging, told them stories about you, before the two of you were married, in exchange for not calling you, which made him laugh.

Poseidon

-The sense of pride that filled him when you told him that you were pregnant with twins made him immediately go to Hades, who later sent you pictures of Poseidon on the ground, covering his face while kicking his feet, absolutely elated. You did not tell him of these photos, keeping them hidden safely away.

-You had gained popularity all around Valhalla during your pregnancy, you looked so radiant, even when Poseidon had to walk with you, as your belly was so heavy you were unbalanced, you were stunning.

-You had mild morning sickness and your cravings weren’t too crazy, except when you woke up at two in the morning in tears wanting watermelon.

-Hades became admired as well, being by your side the whole time, even if he had you in his office or on his throne with him while he worked, he was never far from you as he trusted nobody, except maybe Hades, with your safety.

-He was insanely jealous during your pregnancy, like a starving dog guarding his bone, he hated it when others got close to you, unless if it was your family or Hades, whom you both agreed to name as the godfather.

-Your twins looked exactly like their father, even down to his stoic face, except their eyes were like yours, bright and golden, a perfect blend.

-Your children grew up with so much love, if your sons wanted to spend time with their father, they were sitting on his lap on his throne with him as he oversaw his court, if they wanted to play, he would abandon his paperwork for them and always read to them at night.

-Your sons developed odd personalities as they grew older, and you soon found out why, Zeus was constantly coming around, encouraging them to get up to mischief, but the crossing line was when he accidentally taught them the word ‘fuck’ and they came to you to ask you what it meant.

-Your boys learned that day that, when angry, you were way scarier than their papa, something they told Poseidon and he had to agree.

-Poseidon sent you off to take a break, to go and see your mother, after several days of hard work around his kingdom, which you appreciated, pecking each of your boys on the cheek before heading off.

-As soon as you were gone, your boys were gone, running through the palace which made Poseidon roll his eyes before he went after them, finding them in the kitchen raiding it for snacks.

-After corralling them, holding them both under his arms like sacks of potatoes, he returned to his office with them, dropping them on the couch with their snacks which they tore into.

-When you returned you were nearly ran down by your twins who hugged you, speaking in unison, “‘Mama! We want a baby!’”

-You froze, looking at them before you smiled softly, taking their hands and they pulled you towards yours and Poseidon’s bedroom, “What brought all this on?”

-They beamed as you walked in and Poseidon had a sheepish look on his face before he spoke, “I showed them photos of when you were pregnant, and I had to explain that they were in your belly. Now they want to see it for themselves.”

-You giggled softly before you tapped your twins on the nose, “A baby takes many months to grow my loves, perhaps we shall see how soon we can get you a younger sibling.”

-Your twins cheered and you herded them to their room, putting them to bed before you returned to Poseidon, who had cleaned up your shared bed of the photos.

-You leaned on the doorway, a small smile on your lips, “I’m not opposed to it, my love, are you up for another child?”

-His eyes were starry glints when his head snapped to you and you couldn’t help but grin, approaching the bed to get started.

[battleaxeproficiency]

taash non-binary confirmed , dragon age woke-guard real