#i am his usurper. okay queen.

[astrid-beck]

that's MASTER astrid becke to you cunt

[aphroditelovesu]

Yan!Husband Maegor the Cruel/Yan!Mother-In-Law Visenya Targaryen Headcanons

❝ 🐉 — lady l: Am I obsessed with Visenya Targaryen? Yes I am. Lol, this takes place before he becomes King, except for the ending, so I hope you like it! Forgive me for any mistakes because it's 3 am where I live ❤️.

❝tw: not compatible with canon, mention of death, forced marriage, death, manipulation and usurpation.

❝🐉pairing: yan!maegor the cruel x female!reader and platonic yandere!visenya targaryen.

Your marriage to Maegor was rushed and you didn't have the chance to refuse or say no. Not when the Dowager Queen was the one who chose you to become her son's wife. You were doomed from the beginning.

Everything happened very quickly, you only remember your parents receiving a letter from the Queen ordering you to come to Pentos immediately. Neither your parents nor you have thought much about it. One mistake and soon you were placed in a ship and shipped off to Pentos without knowing the reason.

It was only after your arrival at the Red Keep that you knew what would happen. Your reason for being there. You would become Maegor Targaryen's wife.

You didn't want to marry him, you knew his reputation well but you no longer had a choice. Not when he had taken an interest in you and the Dowager Queen too.

Everything was done quickly. You were bathed, dressed like a doll and during the night, under several looks of pity and fear, you married Maegor, becoming his first and only wife.

It wasn't that bad, you quickly decided. Maegor was a kind husband to you and tried to make you happy. He let you have your freedoms and do what you wanted, as long as you never left the house in Pentos. Visenya was nothing but sweet to you, your mother-in-law was very affectionate and spent a lot of time by her side. You were grateful for that.

He was a decent and even good husband. You had to deal with his jealous outbursts frequently and his often painful touches, but it wasn't that bad. It wasn't bad when you slept with him or when he killed a guard by ripping out his heart because he looked at you for too long. It wasn't that bad, you told yourself every day.

When everything seemed too much to handle, you turned to Visenya and she always comforted you. Everything was fine, she said. This is his way of loving you, that everything would be fine in the end. Visenya knew how to manipulate you with sweet and poisoned words.

There were times when you loved your husband, times when Maegor was your caring and loving husband. This happened when you were on your period or more sensitive and he was a completely different person. His touches weren't harsh, his kisses were soft and his body was soft. You loved these moments.

He had always been possessive and you knew that the best thing to do was not provoke him. You knew very well what your husband was capable of doing, you still had nightmares of when he forced you to watch the terrible murder of your guard after he accidentally touched you.

When this happened, you would curl up on the bed when he left the room and call for Visenya. The only one capable of understanding, you thought. She smiled as she sat next to you and stroked your hair, always repeating that everything would be okay. Your heart hurt, but you blindly trusted your mother-in-law.

With tenderness, Maegor presented you with splendid jewelry, but your greatest treasure was the time you spent together, away from the judgmental eyes of the everyone. He protected you, not just with his warrior skills, but with kind words and gestures of affection.

You came to love Maegor in your own way. And he loved you dearly in return. Although you were still afraid of him, you learned to like him. You would always fear him, but you could ignore that. Because you knew Visenya would never let him hurt you, especially when you found out about his pregnancy.

It was Visenya who discovered it. She always had an eye on you and when one of your maids came up to her and whispered in her ears that you hadn't bled in two months, she smiled huge and knew it was time. It was finally time for Maegor to ascend the Iron Throne.

Maegor was delighted when he found out about your pregnancy. Now everything was falling into place. You will always fondly remember his reaction. How he knelt in front of you and placed his head against your belly, smiling widely and you could swear there would be tears in his purple eyes.

Now everything could fall into place. Maegor would have a secure succession and together with Visenya Targaryen, he usurped the Iron Throne and became King of the Seven Kingdoms. You were present, watching as Visenya crowned her son with his father's crown and everyone watched in awe as the new King ascended.

You clutched your belly as if you were protecting your baby. Maegor stood up and walked over to you, taking a crown that he had ordered forged for you and placed it under your head, crowning you Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Visenya watched with pride and satisfaction. Everything was coming together.

[drakaripykiros130ac]

Apparently, Rhaenyra is “selfish” and “entitled” because she didn’t sit down like a good girl after the vipers who had mentally abused her ever since her mother died, took her throne.

The misogyny is so real in this fandom and it’s highly disturbing for the 21st century.

If a woman fights for something that she is owed, she is “evil” (I thought we were past the caveman mentality).

And yes, Rhaenyra is owed the Iron Throne.

King Viserys named her his heir.

The lords of the Realm bent the knee to her and swore oaths of fealty to her.

Neither Rhaenys (the Queen who Never Was), nor Rhaena (Queen in the West and the East) ever had this much in their favor.

She is selfish because she wants to be given what she was promised?

It wasn’t like she begged Viserys to make her his heir. Viserys made that decision all on his own, and Rhaenyra accepted the responsibility and grew up knowing that she would be the first ruling Queen of Westeros one day. She trained for it too.

She is selfish because she refuses to let Hightowers dictate how the Crown rules the Realm, even though they are not the ruling House?

She is selfish because she needs to protect her own family from a faction of traitorous snakes who were planning to assassinate them all?

Because make no mistake: Rhaenyra and her family would have been murdered by the Greens if she hadn’t gathered her forces and fought back.

Rhaenyra, her husband Daemon, and her two sons, Aegon and Viserys, pose real threats to the Greens. They always would have. The usurper would have had to have them all killed to secure his reign (so much for “the Realm would never support a woman over a man”).

“Entitled” is not a word fit to use for any member of a royal family. You don’t “earn” a crown, you inherit it. That’s what a monarchy is. I don’t think any heirs before Rhaenyra had to fight for the right to inherit their father’s crown.

Why should Rhaenyra have to?

If you answer this question with “Because…” you’re basically a misogynist period.

The Hightowers stole her throne and then expected Rhaenyra to stand her ground and accept it for the “good of the Realm” (as if they care about that).

The Greens drew first blood and started a war which destroyed the Realm just so they could satisfy their thirst for power. If they truly “cared” about the people, they would have let the natural transition of power take place as it had been decided (and the people were more than okay with Rhaenyra being Queen, as proven many times in canon).

And as far as I am concerned, Rhaenyra was far too generous throughout this whole war.

She was willing to forgive Aegon and Helaena for the betrayal (because she knew it was not really their fault), she spared Alicent’s life, she didn’t burn Oldtown to the ground etc. I’m not sure if I would have been able to restrain myself, had it been me.

Show some respect for the Dragon Queen and pray that you never have your inheritance taken from you by a gold digger and her backstabbing family.

[hadesisqueer]

I appreciate The Dragon Prince because it gave me tragic antagonists or villains that I love (Claudia), villains that while I don't really like them I understand how they came to be and can feel a bit of sympathy for (Aaravos or Viren), villains I straight up fucking hate (Sol Regem) and villains that I don't really hate because when they appear on-screen I just sigh wondering how they can be so fucking stupid (Karim). They really give you everything.

No but for real, Karim's entire character arc consists of 'The risk I took was calculated but I am bad at math' because. He's so dumb. He keeps saying he wants to restore the Sunfire Empire to its former glory, but like-- how? What plans do you have for the future? Are you going to try to retake Lux Aurea? Because you can't. Oh, you want humans out? Okay-- how would that help to restore the former glory, though? You're just being a bigot?

The thing is that all Karim ever did was talk about his birthright —that's not even his birthright, actually, because he's the youngest sibling— and keep babbling about history demanding blah blah blah of people and how his sister wasn't a competent queen when actually it is the opposite. Janai proves, by allowing the architect to live while still giving her an according punishment, that she is a fair queen who chooses mercy and allows people to grow while still choosing justice; also, that she's more practical, because what good is a talented architect dead —who did something awful but still was sorta right about fire being dangerous around the camp— when you can just make her build a shrine so this kind of incident never happens again. Janai also had the Sunseed and plans to nurture it and help it grow, help her own people grow. She actually had plans for the future, and she had the patience necessary. She understands that you must learn from history but that it also doesn't define you, that you must not let it define you.

Karim doesn't get that. He was obsessed with history and the old ways. He didn't have any patience. And he didn't have any long term plans. Or even backup plans for when his plans inevitably failed, either! He was so convinced Janai would refuse his duel he was shocked when she actually fought him, and resorted to fighting-- with fire magic-- against someone who's fireproof-- again, no actual plan. He tried using an assassin to kill his sister, the actual person the assassin had a life debt to. He wants to steal the Sunseed, actively fucking over his people. When Ezran tells him to take his followers and start somewhere else, Karim refuses because he says he doesn't want crumbs off his sister's plate, but at the same time it's like-- that's exactly what you were gonna get, buddy. You wanna use Sol Regem to torch your sister's army. The only thing you're gonna rule over is the followers you have now plus what remains of Janai's, if they even accept you. So, yeah. Literally crumbs.

Also, again, he's so fucking entitled. 'What's rightfully mine' he's the youngest sibling, nothing is rightfully his, he's an usurper. Part of his demands being that humans leave and go back to 'their side of the border, where they belong', buddy, you'd be the king of the Sunfire Elves, not the King of all of Xadia. As king you could make humans leave your territory, but not Xadia. If a bunch of humans, hypothetically, befriended Moonshadow or Skywing elves and lived at the Silvergrove, or wherever the Skywing elves live, with them-- what, now you're gonna try to wage war against the the other elves, too, because they're not following your ways? You can threaten them with Sol Regem, sure, but also consider, because you didn't even consider it when you went to him-- he's an Archdragon, yeah, but the weakest of the Archdragons right now. Let's say Ezran and Janai follow through and give up and leave. They could go with Zym and head straight up to the Mushroom Mage and come back with Zubeia, the current Queen of the Dragons, right after she's done with her treatment. They arrive. Who's gonna win? A healthy Archdragon on her prime or an old, blind Archdragon that hasn't flown or fought in centuries? Also, once you give him the Sunseed he actually has no reason to be on your side, he already got what he wanted. Even if the Katolis thing didn't happen, he could've turned against you very easily. He likely would've done so.

He's an awful leader who doesn't actually care about his people. He disrespects other world leaders like Ezran immediately. He's an entitled, bigoted idiot who doesn't actually think things through and that actually makes him both incredibly annoying and very realistic, which actually makes me like him as an antagonist but still makes me let out a exasperated sigh every time he talks. Best part of him is that he's obsessed with going down in history as someone great when, with his actions, he's only going to pass down as the prince who tried to usurp his sister three times and failed the three times, each failure worse than the previous one. Lmao.

[howlingday]

Cinder: (Tapping on her scroll)

Jaune: (Groans)

Ruby: Are you okay, Jaune?

Jaune: Remember my last mission? The one where Cinder and I teamed up? I arrested the criminals, just like I always do.

Ruby: Uh-huh?

Jaune: But now everyone keeps harassing me online for no reason and it's just so frustrating!

Cinder: (Tapping away)

Ruby: DO YOU MIND?! Jaune is pouring his heart out and you're just sitting there, texting some boy like it's none of your business!

Cinder: Because it isn't my business. If our hero can't handle the criticism that comes with being a huntsman, then maybe he should choose a safer profession.

Ruby: You fucking bitch! Why the fuck are you even here if you're not gonna help Jaune feel better, you fucking half-Maiden bitch!

Cinder: WATCH YOUR FUCKING MOUTH, YOU LITTLE SHIT!

Jaune: (Thinking) Jeez, this day keeps getting worse. She's probably texting her boyfriend, too... Not that I care, anyways...

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

Jaune: (In his room) It's just criticism, right? They're just words, and they can't hurt me. Just... gotta learn from it and move on. (Opens scroll) Can't hurt me any worse than I already am.

JAUNE ARC HOGGING THE SPOTLIGHT

Jaune: Why does everyone keep saying that? All I'm doing is just what I'm supposed to do.

Why is this misogynist stealing the glory? -> (1) Reply What's his semblance again? Gloryhog? -> (1) Reply Cinder Fall is our queen and will not be usurped! -> (1) Reply

Jaune: ...WHAT THE?!

Why is this misogynist stealing the glory? -> AllMaiden replied: For an ugly tramp rotting in her week-old undies, you talk too fucking much! Get off your lazy ass and try being a huntress half as good as Jaune Arc! What's his semblance again? Gloryhog? -> AllMaiden replied: It's Aura Amp, you fucking oxygen stealer! Cinder Fall is our queen and will not be usurped! -> AllMaiden replied: Cinder Fall and Jaune Arc are both living their best lives and neither of them would ever be interested in a spineless shit hiding behind a digital screen!

Jaune: (Sniffling, Smiling) Cinder...

[syndrossi]

An ask for when you are needing a break (or procrastinating) from writing! Who are your favorite 3(ish) characters from Game of Thrones, House of the Dragon, or from the books? Only include Jon, Rhaegar and Daemon if you give me your favorite SIX characters, as that's clearly cheating. Are there any you like more/differently in the books vs. the tv shows? Or special characterizations you prefer for characters that don't have much screentime *cough* Rhaegar *cough*.

You're making me choose THREE(ish) only from all the books/shows???? That's so cruel! I should be allowed to choose three from each era!

Okay, okay, setting aside my three very obvious favorites (Daemon, Jon, Rhaegar)...

In no particular order:

Aemon, Baelon, Alyssa (bonus Jocelyn). What? Is this cheating? I don't care! Baelon in particular I find so compelling. We see so little of him in F&B, but what we do see is him utterly disconsolate after Aemon's death. Grown man collapsing in his mother's arms, sobbing from the pain after murdering thousands of pirates in revenge. Look, my literary type is very easy to spot, and it's "has the power and drive to burn the world for daring to hurt the ones I love." Especially because, by all accounts, Baelon isn't the murder-kill type normally. He's the joyful, playful one--the Silver Fool. I also have a huge soft spot for second sons. Aemon and Alyssa are our tragic "died too young" members of this group, with vastly differing personalities. I have a huge soft spot for quiet, soft types as well (your Aemons, Rhaegars, even Neds and Jons if you squint). Alyssa is the opposite: bombastic, her joy greater than even Baelon's. Her and Daemon being similar in personality means I feel like I would have loved her? How much did Rhaenys love her wild aunt Alyssa? I'll bet it was a lot.

Rhaena (Aenys's daughter). I was MESMERIZED reading about her life in F&B. This woman LIVED. She gave ZERO FUCKS. She was constantly threatening to feed men to her dragon, with good reason! She had favorites in every holdfast! She survived marriage to Maegor! When her mother died in childbirth, here was the speech she gave Rogar Baratheon: Her blood is on your hands. Her blood is on your cock. May you die screaming. […] She gave you one son, that should have been enough. Save my wife, you should have said, but what are wives to men like you? Hear this, my lord. Do not think to wed again. Take care of the whelps my mother gave you, my half-brother and half-sister. See that they want for nothing. Do that, and I will let you be. If I should hear even a whisper of your taking some other poor maid to wife, I will make another Harrenhal of Storm's End, with you and her inside it. Like...damn.

Sad bois Aegon III and Viserys II. Look, Aegon III breaks my heart for everything he endured. You would think that the Dance would have been the end of it but the intrigues after were awful too.

Baela. She faced Sunfyre on tiny little Moondancer and they won. (In the sense of Sunfyre dying, but poor Moondancer also died in the attempt.) She was 100% her mother's and father's daughter, like damn.

Hm, I'm stuck in F&B right now, oh well.

Rhea Royce has climbed her way into my heart as I've progressed in the AUs, especially Regnal. Her canon counterpart had to put up with Daemon being his utter worst in an attempt to get his brother to annul the marriage, and tbh I feel like she barely cared? Like, she was busy trying to rule Runestone, let that arrogant brat prance about and make a fool of himself, she had work to do. She also successfully supported little Jeyne Arryn when her male relatives kept trying to usurp her on account of being more qualified (read: male). I am so curious what she would have done as queen consort.

...I haven't even made it out of the Dance and could keep going. You'll have to send me another ask sometime for post-Dance and AGOT-era. 😂

[rynnthefangirl]

Thoughts on the first episode of HOTD Season 2:

-As expected, my hatred for Aegon has grown substantially since the previous season. I just find absolutely nothing redeemable about him. He treats war like it is a game, even though it will kill his people. A horrible king. I do enjoy his little brainstorming sesh with his frat bros about epithets-- a perfect example of his ego, and very satisfying knowing that he is in fact remembered as "Aegon the Usurper" and is considered one of the absolute worst kings who ever lived. Wish I could jump through the screen and tell him that.

-Also reminded of my hatred for Crispy Cole, which had cooled in the intervening time as I don't see many people stanning him or justifying him. But he really is just the biggest hypocrite. His reason for hating Rhaenrya is the exact thing that Alicent is currently doing. Another character with zero redeemable qualities.

-I liked Alicent lighting a candle for Luke. Alicent knows that she is in the wrong, that they all are, and a part of her does bitterly regret what happened and empathizes with Rhaenrya. But the tragedy of Show!Alicent is that she was ruled by her spite and jealousy for so long that by the time the consequences of the animosity she brewed start to come, it is too late to go back.

-Blood and Cheese was a disappointment. I don't care about the change to have Daemon send them after Aemond and not specifically Jaehaerys (as far as I'm concerned, if they are going to whitewash the Greens choices, they may as well do it for TB too). But the Sophie's Choice element was the most compelling part of the whole thing, and they just completely erased it. It was RIPE for adaptation too, what a wasted opportunity.

-So sad we didn't see more of Jace and Cregan. I get it, for pacing purposes we can't spend too long in Winterfell, but I feel like they could have had ONE deep and personal conversation between the two of them. Maybe Cregan could have told Jace about his little brother's death, and THAT is the convo that is interrupted with news of Luke's death. Would establish a bond between the two characters with minimal screen time AND plays well into Cregan's eventual role of helping Jace's own little brother ascend the throne. Alas... *sigh*. Though he and Cregan did have good chemistry, maybe they'll deviate from the books and revisit that later in the season/show since they had to cut the Winterfell visit short (I'm delulu).

-But on the other hand, the bits that we did get of Jace were so good! He looks amazing, him crying while delivering his report to Rhaenyra was just heartbreaking. I am so excited to see more of him, he is rapidly becoming one of my favorites.

-Rhaenyra crying over Luke's clothes broke me. I am so so sorry my love, my sweet Queen, I am so sorry that those nasty ass rats did this to you.

-Where are Aegon III and Viserys II :( I'm so desperate for content for them that I interpreted the exchange "Aegon the Strong" "that would be a better fit for my nephew" as a reference to Aegon III even though that doesn't even make sense.

-Overall I feel like it was a lot of setup, which makes sense. Besides B&C missing the mark, I enjoyed it okay, but there wasn't too much substance. Definitely more compelled by the TB side right now than TG, because there just much more emotional weight there.

[theforgottenmcrmy]

live reactions to house of the dragon season 2, episode 1: a son for a son

i'm basically doing this for my own amusement and reference, but i'm also up for constructive discussions on the episode if anyone feels like commenting

(but if you feel inclined to yell at me for any of my comments, please remember that these are fictional characters, and everyone is entitled to their own opinions🖤)

spoilers beneath the cut

it’s still the s1 recap and I’m already tearing up, can’t believe s2 is finally here

Jaw is dropped, actual chills at new intro. I love it

Winterfell theme=instant tears

Cregan Stark, the man that you are

“Starks do not forget their oaths, my prince” YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT THEY DON’T 🐺

The cave dragon-mounting platform setup? Love it.

“The mother grieves as the queen shirks her duties.” ~ harsh, but the truth

“Would that you were the king” ~ the queen who never was 💅

Rhaenyra 💔

Not Corlys commissioning a dagger for Lucerys😭 he doesn’t give af about blood, that was his grandson through and through.

Here we go, what have the Usurper and crew been up to….

Am I misremembering, or weren’t scorpions a relatively new invention during GOT?

OMG

wtf

I literally can’t with these two 🤡 like

The BALLS of Criston Cole with the damn cape like wtf.

Aegon, did you really expect the North or the Vale to answer you? If your councilors didn’t give you a heads up that that was not likely, you ought to fire them and get new ones.

Tyland and Jaehaerys😂 a pony ride?! These writers were in a silly goofy mood. Although, I will say it’s interesting to see the Lannisters being the ones to take orders for once, rather than give them.

Aegon really shows his age and lack if maturity here doesn’t he?

LARYS

LARYS IS ON THE CASE 🕵️‍♂️

The real question is how will he react when he sees what the dowager queen and ser Crispin have been up to. I’m gonna wager it won’t be pretty

Not Arrax’s wing

LUKE’S CAPE?!😭😭😭

I get they’re trying to make Aegon a bit more likeable this season, but as a member of the audience, I can’t help but feel like that would be SO much more effective if we didn’t already know that he was a predatory 🍇 ist 🤷🏼‍♀️

Otto needs to retire.

Good ol’ Larys, already schmoozing up his next meal ticket. Can’t knock the strategy though.

Alicent’s really trying to justify what happened to Lucerys 🤡

I’m getting the sense Alicent will have wished she kicked Otto out of the Red Keep herself by the time he finally gets canned

House Velaryon theme = always a banger

Mysaria’s accent is SUCH an improvement this season! 👏🏻

Daemon’s desperately pointing fingers at ANYONE who was even remotely close to Aegon😂

That little moment between Rhaenyra and Daemon was so little but said so much

“I want Aemond Targaryen” HELLS YEAH YOU DO 🖤🖤🖤

Daemon- “your wish is my command” 😇

I love that Baela accompanied Jace to go see Rhaenyra.

Jace💔 can’t even get through his report…

Rhaena😭

NOT THE DAMN TOY HORSE FROM BACK IN THE DAY

Jace and Joffrey😣

The fact that Rhaenyra and Alicent both accept what happened to Luke at the same time, but in different ways…. Cinematic poetry right there

A son for a son🤷🏼‍♀️

We love those in King’s Landing who remain true loyalists to the Queen🖤

What would Aemond think if he knew what the Commander of the Kings Guard and his mother do together in their free time🤔

Something funny about a man with no dragon experience and a young prince with no true battle experience talking about a war with dragons as though they’re even remotely knowledgeable…

What vengeance does Aemond seek at this point? Alicent even suggested it was because Lucerys was never punished for taking his eye… Aemond literally unalived Luke. At this point, the Greens seem to have all the advantage. So, at this moment, what exactly does Aemond want?

If anything happens to the dog I stg-

Don’t think Aemond would appreciate you referring to him as a “hound”, Aegon, but go off, I guess

Okay kicking the dog was so not fucking necessary-

Lucerys died during a storm, and it looks like someone else is about to too 👀

The fact that Blood is the voice of reason rn

Helaena💔 you don’t deserve any of this

Okay these noises are fucking AWFUL 😭😭😭💔💔💔

Helaena, not knowing where to go, going to her mother’s chambers🥲

OF FUCKING COURSE these two are at it again like- will they stop now? Will Criston at least have the decency to feel immense guilt and put an end to it himself?

While one can argue Criston Cole has a power dynamic to contend with in both situations (though I would argue he still consented to both), the difference is Rhaenyra was 17, and and Alicent is a woman in her 30s who also prides herself on being religious and practically pious🤷🏼‍♀️ one of them really ought to have known better then sleeping with a member of the Kingsguard, but I won’t say which one.

The Blackwoods and the Brackens!!!

Dragon eggs?👀

[blaiddfailcam]

Which one is the gooder boy: Blaidd or Maliketh?

THAT'S TOO DIFFICULT A QUESTION ANOn

Okay let's see though... Both are obviously very good boys who reflect each other's harsh fate, as well as those of their Empyreans, yet contrast each other in the specifics of their alliances. So, let's break them down a bit, because I hate to give a dull answer.

— MALIKETH —

It's still unclear when exactly Marika became a god, or why she was chosen an Empyrean, and the exact nature of her relationship with the Hornsent. Presumably, Maliketh was gifted to her by the Two Fingers way back then, and she could only become a god so long as the Gloam-Eyed Queen was defeated and the Rune of Death removed from the Elden Ring, which is precisely what Maliketh was created to achieve. This raises a bit of a question as to whom Maliketh was truly allied—was Marika really his mistress? or did he merely serve to fulfill the destiny that was foisted on her by her worshippers?

Let's take a closer look at their present state: Marika is, for all intents and purposes, dead, with a black-and-red shard of light piercing her abdomen; Maliketh mourns for her, yet growls in frustration over how she "gulled" him. In both of Maliketh's defeat dialogue lines, we gain a few insights into Maliketh's knowledge of Marika's state...

"Witless Tarnished... Why covet Destined Death? To kill what?"

...that he cannot understand why the Tarnished would seek Destined Death, potentially hinting that he knows Marika is already dead (and doesn't know that Radagon is now a god, and perhaps not even that Radagon and Marika are one).

"Forgive me, Marika... The Golden Order... cannot be restored."

...that Maliketh more specifically served the Golden Order and sought to restore it after its shattering, which we later learn was done by Marika's own hand.

Though for a time I thought Messmer might have been responsible for Marika's state, it seems far less likely given his dialogue in his fight, which suggests he doesn't know Marika is "dead." As it stands, the most likely culprit is still Maliketh himself, as he wields the red-and-black Rune of Death. He is a shadow, after all, and we do learn through Blaidd's quest that shadows are created to serve their Empyreans unless they disobey the Two Fingers/the Greater Will, at which point they are tasked with disposing of them.

It's possible then that Maliketh, though he adored Marika, only truly functioned to sustain the Golden Order as she was fated to establish and govern eternally. In fact, Maliketh may have had more in common with the Hornsent, whom Marika betrayed and inflicted an unforgiveable crusade—the altar in Farum Azula appears to depict Marika's Elden Ring, yet with the spiral tree motif visible along its spine.

Of course, there's still the question of whether her death was Marika's own intention. Throughout her reign, Marika was constantly sowing the seeds of her own decline, from the exile of the Tarnished to the shattering of the Elden Ring. Though she was imprisoned and practically executed for her trespass... it's possible this was her intention all along. In which case, Maliketh played his part perfectly without ever realizing he was fulfilling Marika's own wish.

Speaking of, let's move on to...

— BLAIDD —

Blaidd is abundantly clear in whom he serves: "I am Ranni's shadow and it's for her that I fight. Whatever any of you might call me..." Unbeknownst to him, Blaidd is fated to be turned against Ranni for eluding her destiny, yet he insists he would never do such a thing. Even as he's inevitably driven mad by the Two Fingers, he roots himself where he stands to protect Ranni from the vengeful Black Knife Assassins.

When Blaidd was given to Ranni, they were each children, and it was fated that Ranni would succeed Queen Marika as a carrier of the Elden Ring's vision, though not necessarily the Golden Order itself. Just like Marika's usurpation and subjugation of the Godskins, Ranni's destiny appears to have demanded she instill the Elden Ring with a new Order, one prescribed by the Greater Will itself. But Ranni refused to acquiesce, pursuing instead her own vision, in which she would abscond with Order and create a world without certainty.

Regardless of Ranni's choice, it's clear that Blaidd's childhood alongside her instilled in him an intense admiration for her. Even if his purpose was to ensure she followed her destiny safely, he rejected any and all manner of gods or vassals to serve only her... unaware that it would ruin him. As it turns out, Ranni and Iji were evidently aware of Blaidd's curse, and though they relied on him to assist the Tarnished, he too was ultimately "gulled" by his compatriots. And he still refused to betray Ranni.

While this of course comes across as tragically endearing, it's probably important to remember just what kind of person Blaidd devoted himself to. Ranni is largely responsible for the deaths and half-deaths of countless people throughout the Lands Between as a direct result of her assassination of her stepbrother, Godwyn (arguably the like, only truly diplomatic demigod lol). After the Night of the Black Knives, Ranni abandoned her assassins, disappearing with the death of her flesh, leadng them to exile and persecution. And despite all this... she never really shows a hint of remorse. To her, they were all stepping stones.

While I doubt Blaidd was involved in the Night of the Black Knives (realistically, I think Ranni would have taken precaution against involving the man specifically designed to kill her should she commit to high treason), he must know to some degree that Ranni is responsible for the state of the world as it is. This doesn't even begin to shake his love for her. In fact, it's pretty clever that our first encounter with Blaidd is to hunt down Darriwil, a traitor who's already imprisoned, and who literally can't even speak to defend himself; all the while, Blaidd never even offers us any information about the nature of Darriwil's betrayal. Later on, Blaidd seems happy as a clam to kill Ranni's own flesh and blood brother, Radahn.

The man has no real moral compass. He's obsessed with the four-armed doll. It's like his Jungkook. Embarrassing!

— AND THE GOODEST BOY IS... —

...Maliketh, lol.

As far as can tell, Maliketh didn't assist in any sort of genocide, as he was presumably hidden in Farum Azula with the Rune of Death since the very conception of the Golden Order, and likely prior to the string of genocidal tyranny Marika would unleash.

What's interesting to note about Maliketh and Blaidd's contrasting morality is that Maliketh is relatively faultless, but his purpose was to aid in the realization of a cruel world Order that unleashed an endless cascade of misery upon the Lands Between; Blaidd is aware of Ranni's treachery, yet they pursue what is arguably a more hopeful future, even if only out of self-interest.

They're both good boys, of course. But cute, doggy features won't hold up in the court of law! Under careful scrutiny, I, the public, have weighed the follies of their hearts and determined Maliketh the Goodest Boy of Ring Game!!!!!!

if u see any typos. No you dont

[greenerteacups]

…in the vein of GoT and ASOIAF, I would love to pick your brain on House of the Dragon (if you’ve seen it / read F&B!) and more specifically, your thoughts on the most recent season + retcons / changes they’re doing.

Loved reading your most recent ask btw it made me want to read the entire series (sadly I’ve only watched).

Okay I think the problem with HOTD is that while they're clearly leaning into the "maesters are biased, all history is constructed" motif in FAB, they're losing track of the changes they're making, and hence failing to keep the characters consistent. Making Alicent and Rhaenyra into embittered former lovers (textually or subtextually) is a cool choice, but they don't commit to exploring that idea! because the second half of season 1 is about the collapse of their relationship and their transformation into incredibly violent, resentful enemies (alicent tries to attack rhaenyra with a dagger? tries to deny her children the right to inherit driftmark? usurps rhaenyra, invokes a law that denies ALL women the right to rule, and sends aemond to kill luke (for all rhaenyra knows!) and just when you think you're finally going to see some good REAL nasty vicious lovers-to-enemies arc, rhaenyra is like "hang on. i gotta see if i can still smash" and does SeptHeist2024. and alicent then says NOTHING about this to any guards and just fucking. lets her go??? and then by the end, the woman who tried to carve out rhaenyra's eye with a KNIFE in front of the fucking KING and FULL COURT to avenge her son — rhaenyra tells THAT woman, to her face, that she's going to kill that woman's firstborn son, and that woman SHRUGS? because — what, she wants to go fucking wildlife camping?

in general, s2 feels like they've reverted these characters to people who can have the scenes that the showrunners want to write. all the juicy rhaenicent resentment and fury and thwarted yearning is boiled down into some milquetoast refrain of "i miss you :( war is hard :(" and a bunch of empty parallelism that doesn't make SENSE because these characters are not offered the same choices! the ONLY thing that was interesting to me in s2 is that they seem to be prepping for the rhaenyra messiah-complex arc (cf. the scene where she tells the dragon-keepers to fuck off and watches vermithor roast about 50 peasants with a stone cold straight face.) her relationship with daemon is way more nasty and dynamic and CONSISTENT than her relationship with alicent because i think they're balking and reluctant to let rhaenicent be as nasty and spiteful and jealous as daemyra is! but like! that's the POINT! none of these people are good or virtuous and their relationships are all terminally fucked by the weight of the duties levied on their shoulders! it's the cycle of violence! let them perform cyclical violence to each other!!

anyway it's like. i think the show has a lot of promise. i STILL am hype for s3 because i think this could be mid-stage growing pains and you can still correct a lot of these wobbles in the next season. pros: good cinematography, GREAT dragon cgi, that way aegon does a spring-jump and vaults over the horse when he's riding to vhagar is fucking awesome. cons: too many scenes of alicent looking sad, not enough scenes of alicent being vengeful or resentful as is established for her character. too many scenes of daemon tripping balls. also not enough scenes of baela and rhaena having character or relationships. also not enough simon strong dripped out within an inch of his life and being unrealistically mouthy to the queen's husband. never enough of that.

[legitalicat]

Power is Power - chapter 3

AN: I love Aegon Targaryen I cannot help it.

Masterlist here!

Songs for the Chapter

Like Real People Do by Hozier

Tattoo by Loreen

Summary: The Velaryon Club.

CW: Language, flashback to political marriage, romantic longing, canon typical Targcest, discussions of usurpation, implied wine drinking

Pairings: Aegon Targaryen ii x Alisanne Velaryon, past Alisanne Velaryon x Jacaerys Velaryon

Word count: 2.1k

Previous chapter

Alisanne looked between her brothers. Jacaerys and Joffrey looked just as eager for the answer as Lucerys. She could only smirk as she sipped on her water. She watched the berries she liked to use to flavor her water float about the top when she returned to merely holding it in her lap.

“So how did you do it?” Lucerys asked her.

They had changed, she felt, since she saw them last. Their hair longer, curlier. Their jaw lines sharper, seemingly having lost any remnants of baby fat. Lucerys seemed as riled up as ever, but Jacaerys was more reserved. Joffrey changed, she thought, depending on which brother he was with and who was encouraging.

“Alicent had told me grandsire was asking for me, she had just left him. By the time I arrived, he was dead,” Alisanne told her twin. “Aegon and I had made the agreement, a long time ago, that he would need to hide for as long as he could in order to hold them off. We knew Otto planned something, but his plan includes keeping Aegon in the dark. So when Aegon hid, I went to Rhaenys and told her to give a note to Mother.”

“A note I presume you had pre-written?” Luke smirked at her.

“Oh of course,” she responded, smirking at him. “I presume you lot know the rest. Rhaenys made her escape, mother found out. We proceeded along how Otto wished us to, until we received word you all were on your way.”

Jacaerys stared at her. At one time, she had been certain that she would have been his wife. His queen. She had grown with the idea that her mother would not allow her marriage to Aegon and that she would be with Jace.

He felt it too. She could tell by the way he looked at her. Whatever could have been, or may have once been, plagued them both. Part of Alisanne’s heart, she feared, would always belong to him.

Though, nothing could convince her it did not turn out better this way. The way Aegon loved her, it was something people only dreamt of. And the way she loved him? She had not been exaggerating when she spoke of burning down Westeros for him.

“And you love him?” Jacaerys asked her. There was a deeply hidden sorrow woven into his words. She had not wanted it to be so, though she did not think she could stop it.

“Yes,” she said quietly to him.

Any expansion upon her word would take away from the weight. She could tell him how Aegon treated her as though she were the only thing that mattered in the world. How she fell in love with him the moment she caught him awake before her, singing with the birds when he thought nobody would hear him.

With Aegon, it did not matter the truth they both knew. Harwin Strong being her father instead of Laenor Velaryon was what he referred to as an inconsequential matter. She was who she was, his wife that he loved as though it were breathing. In her, he found beauty and love in ways he had never known. ( 1 )

“And he is good to you?” he asked her quietly.

“He is. A better man than I thought possible,” she whispered, reaching across and taking his hand in hers.

Alisanne and Jace shared this moment. Their gazes connected, their hands touching. Her heart reached out to his. She needed him to understand it was true and genuine. It was no trick, not some manipulation, but a love that was pure and honest.

“Then perhaps we should start inviting him to the weekly Velaryon Club meeting,” Joffrey said with a deep laugh.

“We should,” Jacaerys said, giving his sister a small smile and a nod. “As long as you are okay with him knowing how crazy you are.”

“I am far from crazy,” she said quickly, laughing quietly.

“You dove into the water from Vermithor’s back,” Luke pointed out.

“You jumped from Arrax,” she told him, laughing as she turned and shoved him lightly.

“And we all fucking agreed Mother can never know,” Joffrey said as he finished his drink. The others all took a drink from their own cups.

“Bold of you to assume I did not see you all from my room,” Rhaenyra’s voice said from the door way.

Alisanne choked on her water before she stood up and turned to look to her mother. She was far more relaxed now. The crown did not sit upon her head. The tension she held was gone.

“It was Alisanne’s idea,” Joffrey and Jacaerys said together far too quickly.

“Okay what the literal fuck, fuck you guys,” Alisanne said as she looked at them. Then she turned back to look at her mother. “But for the record, Jace dared me and Rhaena said she thought it was a bad idea and Baela said I couldn’t let boys win so really it wasn’t my fault.”

Rhaenyra could not help but laugh. To see her four eldest children, together again, was her greatest joy. They had been closer than any siblings she had ever known. They would live and die for one another.

She stepped closer to Alisanne and took her hands in her own. There was something so special for Alisanne to be back with her mother. There had been so many moments she had wanted to walk down the halls to her room, to be held like she had when she was a child.

“I am so proud of you,” Rhaenyra said quietly.

“I did what was needed. Nothing more,” Alisanne said. Her voice wavered a bit, tears coming to verge on being released from her eyes.

“No. You turned what we were all sure was a dangerous position into a life of happiness and love. That is a feat few can say they’ve accomplished,” Rhaenyra told her. “Speaking of which, I have been asked to tell you Aegon awaits for you in the courtyard.”

Alisanne grinned from ear to ear without realizing it. A little chuckle left her like a simple exhale of breath. “Ah, yes. I shall see you all at supper, then?”

“Must you go? Now?” Luke asked her. “Surely he can wait.”

Alisanne looked to him. She didn’t quite know how to tell him that she couldn’t. Aegon would be perfectly fine if she sent word that she would meet him later. But she needed to go to him, to see him, to feel him.

“With any luck, you will one day understand why I have to,” she told her twin before leaving the room.

Her steps to the courtyard were rushed. Much more than her path earlier in the day. She could not help the way her feet carried her as though she were late.

When she passed through the doors and came to the courtyard, Aegon and Sunfyre were waiting with Vermithor. Sunfyre the Golden and The Bronze Fury, together, had always been a sight to see. Especially when Sunfyre would sing and chirp and Vermithor would seem almost calmed by him.

Aegon rested his forehead against Sunfyre’s side, waiting for Alisanne. She stood at the foot of the stairs and just looked at him for a moment. To think she had once been concerned with never loving him seemed so ridiculous to her now. She had rarely seen such beauty.

She was fire and blood, salt and sea. Harsh and unforgiving at times, devastation following closely if she wanted. But he was the birds in the trees or the whitest clouds in the sky for her. Her heart yearned for him like he kept it beating. ( 2 )

Their wedding night, she was terrified. That was the first night she had not been with her mother or any of her brothers. She had expected a bedding ceremony, something that Alicent was pushing for. She had expected the rumors of Aegon’s disinterest of a woman’s desires to be true. Though nothing that happened that night was expected.

Alisanne followed Aegon in near silence. The halls of the Red Keep had never been so lifeless. They did not pass a single person all the way from the Great Hall to Maegor’s Holdfast, the only sound coming from their own feet and the guards that walked behind them.

They came to his rooms. Their rooms. She would need to get used to that, she supposed. There was no telling how long she would be here until her mother could find a way to free her. Then she would be able to return to Dragonstone.

“I shall take the settee for the night,” Aegon told her quietly. “I was not able to get all your things up here yet, but I remember you being quite fond of blankets as a child, so I asked for a few extra to be brought for you.”

Alisanne turned to him, brows furrowing in confusion. “You do not mean to join me in the bed?”

“I did not think you would want me. You do not seem pleased with this. While I cannot give you forever without ever having to bed me, I can give you some time to adjust,” he told her quietly.

Something about the way he said it hurt something inside her. He was already so certain she did not, could not, want him. And while it may be true she had not wanted the marriage, she did not like the thought of him doubting himself in such a way.

“You are my husband,” she told him.

“Not the one you wanted,” Aegon said. “You think I do not know you love Jacaerys?”

“It does not change that you are my husband. And I do not think love is this thing that happens to us, but a decision we must make every day,” Alisanne said to him. Shyly, she took his hands in her own. “We could either live our lives miserable or we can make the choice to love each other. And a man who brings the thought of comfort in one of my favorite things is a man I think wants to choose to love.”

Alisanne made the choice that day, that moment, to choose Aegon every time. She did not at the time know how deeply she would come to love him. He had made himself a permanent fixture in her heart without even meaning to.

Vermithor made a rumbling noise when he finally saw her. It was one of a happines at seeing his rider. Some people did not notice the difference in the sounds he made. Sunfyre was much more obvious, singing to Aegon both in greeting and as a way to make him smile, grumbling when hungry, screeching if he was fearful. Vermithor though tended to either roar or grumble for everything.

But Aegon knew. It’s why he pulled back from Sunfyre and looked to find her. And then he saw Alisanne, who had a small smile on her face. A smile in which he could only replicate.

“Vaoreznuni naejot gaomagon ao waiting, ñuha jorrāeliaryz,” she told him as she walked over to him. (“Sorry to keep you waiting, my love.”)

He chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Daor jorrāelagon naejot sagon vaoreznuni. Iksā kesīr sir se konir sagon mirre nyke could jorrāelagon,” he said softly to her. (“No need to be sorry. You are here now and that is all I could need.”)

“You have been invited to the Club Velaryon meetings,” she told him, grinning up at him.

“Oh I have now?” he asked her, chuckling.

“Yes. You should feel honored. We are a very exclusive club,” she told him.

Before he had the chance to say another word, Alisanne kissed him. She could not tell what exactly she wanted to show him. Part of her wanted to prove to him how much she loved him. Her lips moved against his own with a soft devotion. She was his in every sense.

And when Aegon’s fingers dug into the flesh of her body through her dress, pulling her to be flush against him, more awake in her. Then, she wanted to show him how she desired him. How desperately she felt that need in her bones. If given the chance, she doubted she would ever leave his side.

When he finally pulled away, he smiled lazily at her. “Come now, love, let us fly,” he told her softly.

Alisanne nodded quietly, giving him another quick kiss, before mounting Vermithor. When they took off into the sky, all she could think of was how perfect this all felt.

><><><><><><><><><><><><

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[repetiita]

While they weren't friends nor colleagues, there was a distinct comraderie amongst those considered 'cards'. They weren't entirely human. Nor were they bore of Pride; but they were chosen. Noah, the bleeding heart and child of a glutton stood, his arm occupied by a smitten child, Nunzia. Smoking near a window in comfortable silence sat the dancer, Camilla, the doctor, Kaede and the police officer, Samuel.

A mood killer; that is what king Nado was. A nameless husk, shambling in with a faux crown upon its head.

No more quiet chatter, no more boisterous laughter. Just complete silence each time it appeared. No matter what body it latched onto, no matter how polite a smile it wore, the rag-tag team of 'humans' looked at it as it was. A usurper.

"I'm getting the distinct feeling that I am not liked by you all."

"This in itself is fine, however, I wish you all remember that I am your leader. Ignoring my orders is not an option."

Within the blanketed silence, a single hand raised. Like an owl, King's head turned, wide eyes landing on the only human with the gall to openly oppose it's whims. Perhaps it noticed the colour in Nunzia's face drain when it decided to turn its body to match its heads position. Or how Noah tensed as it moved. Operating a human was a challenge.

"Respect is earned." As always, Queen spoke without permission... Nevermind her tenure in this little group; Pride seemed to hold a soft spot for her. Rendering her untouchable. Pompous. "And to be frank, despite joining us recently, you assumed a RECENTLY VACANT position. One held by someone we all cherished. If you allowed us the chance to grieve before waving authority, your transition would be smoother, Second."

There it was. Vitriol and spite dripped from her tongue whenever she called it that. Taking on the label of King did nothing but twist the knife.

Imitating it's environment, it asked a simple question; speaking her true name. ". . . Did you love the First, Camilla?"

"We all did." Noah spoke through grit teeth, though fear held him still, he stood with Camilla. Respectable, while Nunzia hid behind him, her hands trembling. It could practically hear the chattering of the siren's teeth.

Once more, an uncomfortable silence took the room. Even Samuel, whose lungs could barely take the dust, lacked the gall to cough and clear tarred airway.

All is silent until the door slams open by the grace of Peter's foot. The life of the party had broken the only door still on its hinges, his wide grin fell, smelling ROT before seeing it standing before the others. Its body turned to the two, for behind Peter stood their lucky charm, Marissa, unshakable in her faith.

"Fuck, we already bullyin' the new guy?"

"Correcting, Jack..."

"I see it as bullying, Camilla."

CLAP ! Loud and oddly piercing, Marissa clapped. Once, twice-- a total of four claps. Like a teacher commanding the attention of a room. "That's enough!" Her small body bounced as she practically skipped between the two faux monarchs. "No fighting!"

"And King, you know not to use our real names when we meet. One more infraction and--"

"Understood. I've attended this meeting and shall be leaving early, is that alright with you, Clover?" Without waiting for Marissa to stammer an 'okay', the King made itself scarce, shambling out of the dilapidated bar without a second look.

Perhaps next time, it will try a different approach.

". . . Good riddance."

As if time resumed, noise seeped into the atmosphere. Starting with a single cough.

[hitchell-mope]

(The Fate Of The Fake Queen And Her Older Sister The Wicked Witch)

Snow: Henry. Please. Stop this. Stop this now. While you still can.

Henry: sorry grandma. No can do.

Regina: why are you doing this?

Zelena: isn’t it obvious? He’s a dark one. It’s in their nature

Henry: oh so close zelena. But no dice. See. THIS!

(He slams Zelena’s face into the floor)

Henry: is for my father. And THIS!

(He slams Regina’s face into the floor)

Henry: is for Graham.

Emma: what the hell is going on?

Henry (cheerfully): hello mother! Welcome to the execution!

Emma: can I get in on this?

Henry: by all means.

(Emma kicks Regina in the face and shatters Zelena’s jaw with one punch)

Emma: that felt good.

Regina: I am your mother!

Henry (drawing Excalibur and pressing it into Regina’s neck): no. No you’re not. You’re a dictatorial, tyrannical, despot. And after tonight. Everyone will have what they deserve.

Granny: what the hell is going on here?

Henry: sorry for the mess granny. I’ll clean it up be out of your hair. But you might want to see what I’m about to do.

(He teleports everyone out onto the street in a cloud of golden smoke. Once there he casts a protection spell on all the buildings)

Zelena: where’s my daughter?

Henry: you mean my baby sister.

Zelena: where’s my daughter! I demand to see her! You can’t keep her from me! I demand to see her! I demand to se-

(Henry pulls out Emma’s gun and shoots Zelena dead mid sentence, splattering Regina in her sisters blood and causing her to scream in terror until Henry backhands her across the face and starts beating her up with his bare hands)

Henry: SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP.

Killian: Henry! It’s okay.

Henry: you’re right Killian. You’re right. Sorry everybody. I got carried away. It won’t happen again.

David: what’s going on?

Rumple: isn’t it obvious your majesty? He’s doing away with our enemies

Snow: Henry’s gone too far. We can’t save him.

Henry: oh grandma. I’m saving you.

(He takes out The Pen)

Henry: let’s see now. Oh yes. “The Great Usurper Regina Mills felt every bone in her legs and arms break into pieces within her”

(Regina screams in pain as her body is shattered into pieces)

Henry: “the anti magic cuffs appeared on her wrists and ankles)

(The anti magic cuffs appear on her wrists and ankles)

Henry: “in a shower of golden flame the bane of the royal family’s existence fades into the abandoned cell of Rumplestilskin. Fated to be alone, forgotten and to starve to death. Knowing that she failed to meet her accursed goals of revenge against The Rightful Queen. And that is where she stays. Until even her bones crumble to dust”.

(Regina is dragged off into a shower of golden flame, wailing pitifully like the injured bitch she is)

Rumple: well done Henry. I couldn’t have done it better myself.

Henry: of course you couldn’t have gramps. You weren’t The Author. Now let’s complete business shall we?

(Ornate crowns appear on Snow and David’s heads)

Henry (projecting his voice all over town): CITIZENS OF STORYBROOKE. TOUGH TIMES LAY AHEAD OF US. MAY I PRESENT TO YOU OUR TRUE LEADERS. MY GRANDPARENTS. KING DAVID AND QUEEN SNOW.

Emma (smiling widely): it’s about damn time.

(End of The Fate Of The Fake Queen And Her Older Sister The Wicked Witch)

[booksrbetterthanpeople]

More Evil Royal Boyfriends?

Nathaniel: *Ballroom dancing with Marc while all of their guests are forced to watch while in chains* My love, how long has it been since we've waltzed?

Marc: Since that dreadful Alice girl dared to interrupt our tea date.

Nathaniel: HER HEAD! I NEARLY HAD HER HEAD! *Throws a dagger, and it nearly hits one of his prisoner's heads*

Marc: Darling, let's not worry about the past... Just keep throwing more daggers until you decapitate one of these peons.

—

Marc and Nathaniel met when they were fifteen at a ball thrown by Nathaniel's parents to find someone to marry him because he keeps having the other candidates beheaded after dates

Anyway! The Prince of Hearts has his guards drag out anyone he deems unworthy of his time

He gets bored of the party and goes into the palace garden, remaining unaware of a certain persistent attendee following him until he reaches a secluded part of the hedge maze

Emani of the Southern Isles is only interested in dating Nathaniel for his family's riches and to be very close to the Prince. The King and Queen like him for Nathaniel and invited Emani, thinking he'll calm their son down and cause fewer deaths, not knowing his methods for doing so are frowned upon centuries from now.

Then Emani has the audacity to touch Nathaniel's shoulder. And just when Nathaniel is about to call for his guards to have Emani beheaded, Emani gags him and makes a threat that actually terrifies Nathaniel until he agrees to allow Emani to court him

Before they can go back to the castle and tell Nathaniel's parents the "good news," an assailant emerges from the hedges and takes Emani out quickly with a poison-soaked rag, saving Nathaniel from the worst marriage of the century

The assailant introduces himself as Prince Marc Grimhilde, the orphan Prince whose parents died of mysterious circumstances after they grounded Marc for poisoning his suitor, Lucien Ratcliffe, the son of a wealthy colonizer

—

Nathaniel: Well, I thank you for the save, but I could have had his head on a platter if I so desired without your help.

Marc: Okay then. *Injects Emani with an antidote, and he wakes up panting* Go for it.

Emani: What is happen- *Nathaniel cuts off his head with a dagger*

Nathaniel: I told you.

Marc: Lovely blade work. I prefer toxins, but everyone has their method. When do you plan to usurp your parents?

-

The King and Queen of Hearts are less-than-thrilled that Nathaniel's decapitated someone during the ball and has chosen the "Poison Prince" as his suitor, but since they're terrified of both of them, they allow them to date

A chill went through everyone's bodies that night

They get married at twenty, a few months after the tragic death of Nathaniel's parents, and merge their Kingdoms

Marc moved into the Hearts Castle after having having his burned to the ground in a fit of rage when his Magic Mirror told him there was some girl fairer than him

—

Marc: I AM THE FAIREST! NOT SOME PEASANT GIRL IN RAGS! I WANT HER DEAD!

Nathaniel: On your whim alone, my nightshade. Would you like her heart or head?

Marc: Surprise me.

—

Unfortunately, the girl (Juleka) runs off when she hears the King of Hearts is after her. Last anyone heard, she’s crashing with some dwarves

When the mirror still dubs him the second-most fairest, Marc poisons a card guard because he can’t bear to be mad at his husband. So, he resorts to Plan B, his favorite: Poisoning Juleka

For that to work, he uses dark magic to make himself look much older and is worried how Nathaniel will react.

—

Nathaniel: You are still the same malevolent imp I married after you poisoned my parents. And for the record, you look very handsome with grey hair.

Marc: You’re just saying that.

Nathaniel: … Has someone besides the mirror questioned your beauty, my love? Lead me to them and expect their head on a platter of the finest silver.

—

So, Marc kills Juleka with a poison apple, she falls into a deathlike state, Rose shows up to kiss her awake, and they move into her castle far away from the land so Marc is the fairest in the land again (Though, he doesn’t know she’s alive again)

The husbands decide to celebrate Juleka’s supposed death with tea in the castle gardens

But while they’re relaxing, they hear the card guards loudly and stupidly singing about painting the roses red

When they find the card guards, not only are they painting the roses red, they’re painting them with some girl with pink hair

Of course, Nathaniel has the card guards decapitated, and since the girl (Alix) clearly doesn’t know how things are done in his kingdom, he challenges her to a game of croquet. If she wins, she lives

—

Nathaniel: Look, I’m a fair ruler, so in exchange for your life, let’s play a round of croquet.

Alix: … That doesn’t sound-

Nathaniel: ALL THINGS ARE DONE MY WAY HERE!… *Whispers to Marc* Make sure she has the warped flamingo mallet, darling.

—

Of course, Alix lost, and she’s sent to the dungeon to await her decapitation while Nathaniel and Marc celebrate with more tea in the garden

When they go to take her to the guillotine, Alix escaped, and well, that set Nathaniel off

—

Marc: *As Nathaniel chases around the castle staff with his dagger* Remember to pace yourself, darling!

[mrtsar]

"The Young King"

A young, second born prince was left alone at the castle.

The king, queen and heir departed for a ball miles away.

Twas the first time the teenager had been alone.

He would never become ruler, but that was okay.

Contentment was his domain.

A messenger came to the young one.

“Your parents and brother have perished, sire.”

“Many of your new lords will now seek the throne from you.”

“What shall you do?”

But the new King did not respond in royal language.

He curled into a ball along the wall.

He now owned the largest castle in the land

Owned more money than he would ever dream of

Could choose to do whatever he wanted

But he never wanted any of it.

Do royals care for their parents?

Is their duty as heirs above that of children to their parents?

Would one question an orphan lamenting their independence?

“Help me. Help me.” But the servants expected a king, and would not.

And the king was still alone.

Why must I suffer so?

I wish to give according to my loves and values

But what am I even to do?

Do I not get to mourn?

Why do their slaves get more respite than their own son?

And I am alone in here. I don’t know what to do.

I just want everyone I care about with me.

But the ones who could help me are gone.

And the ones left can only see “king” and not “me.”

I wish death on all family usurpers.

Who would ever wish this fate upon themselves!?

Who would lie down and grin as the pendulum of Damocles descends?

Do you find it poetic or ironic that the blade you wanted will fall on your face?!

I am not ready. I was never raised to be ready.

But is raising independence in a child simply called neglect?

[howyouloveyourdragon]

tldr; EXCUSE ME MISS MA'AM. WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO WRITE THIS WELL.

‘You shall marry Aemond within the next moon turns. For the good of the Realm.’

i--

The Dowager Queen had openly admitted to being against the match – of course, the prospect of her perfect son, married off to a lowly bastard of Rhaenyra's (otherwise said, her last surviving child), didn’t specifically thrill her.

PFFFFFFFFF babe sweetheart schnookums fr? cause me personally? i would not let that slide

Still, it couldn’t be helped. And if the Velaryon wanted to keep her head away from a spike, she had no other choice but to comply.

reader's life is always threatened and i fucking love that personally

give me the tea

Although… she wasn’t a Velaryon now, was she? Aegon the Usurper made sure of that.

YOU C U N T

His final gift to her was to strip her of all her titles. She had been openly declared a bastard – before the masses, before the Court.

actual arsehole

MINA ISTFG I WILL GUT HIM RN

With a wide smile upon his burnt lips, the “King” had told her she’d be a Targaryen instead.

okay i mean...at least there's that ig

Aemond would inherit the seat with the Usurper’s blessing, as a homage brought to his able fighting and his shown bravery on the bloody battlefield.

i will gut you right here and now

‘I shan’t marry your son. Not now, not ever.’ Her own voice rang out. ‘You will do exactly as demanded.’ ‘I would rather die than bear the treacherous children of that monstrous beast.’

THAT'S RIGHT BABE

TELL 'EM

At first, she’d been restless in her attempts to escape the Keep. Her every waking hour was spent shamelessly inside the Sept, where she prayed not for the safety of her brothers’ souls, but for revenge against the mutted Greens.

okay but jace :(

She spent the first night of their betrothal scraping her knuckles so harshly, that they broke and cracked under the stimulation of the cold water.

mina this is mean :( i want to hug her

Her thirst for vengeance ceased after the first two months.

slay

Every night, without a fail, she woke up tormented by nightmares – her throat burning with absolving shrieks of fear, exacerbated breaths of air and flimsy nightdresses, damp throughout by breaks of sweat.

i can already feel how heartwrenching this is gonna be when she has to sleep next to aemond

The first night she lashed out onto her bedding was the night she found out Aemond had moved his Quarters next to hers. He yanked the door open and stepped into the light of her candle – looking ravished, completely out of breath and startled. Started not for his own accord and safety, but for the state that his future wife had been in. ‘Shit, it’s alright, I’m here–’

oh wait

but his hurt expression was masked quickly with one most bitter and taciturn.

what an arsehole let me hit him

Even though nothing had been, or ever will be, as she achingly wished them to.

MINIKA. MINEAPOLLIS. MINA. WHAT THE HECK. HOW DARE YOU GET ME IN A STATE LIKE THIS RN

“You could at least attempt to look happy.” His chastising tone rained upon her, as his Lady remained hammered in her seat. Maids flocked to her like lost chickens to their cock, arranging her hair and picking out dresses fit for their engagement parade.

stfu

whilst grabbing a deep green garment

that is so unbelievably fucked up

“The red one with black lacings.”

HAH YES BITCH YES

A smile tugged at the ends of his upturned lips, but the look inside his eye remained frigid and unforgiving.

it's funny, aemond. laugh.

Their faces were so close to each other, that their moving lips were almost touching.

why am i into this?

“Your bastard brothers were ample proud. Look where that brought them.”

and im back to hating him again 👍

With a single and effective move, she spat harshly in his face, eliciting a groan from her broader perpetrator.

YES

“Fuck you,” She hissed out slowly, “Don’t you dare talk of my family – my brothers were ten times the man you are.”

and jace had ten times the size of your di--

“If you wish not to attend our engagement parade wearing the clothes I’ve chosen for you,” He muttered against her face, a scorned look adorning his own, “Then you won’t be wearing anything at all.”

...okay now im scared for her

He nodded to her in a spry and calloused manner, and brought his hand out to touch her cheek. His knuckles had begun to bleed, busted by the force of impact that his fist had faced for him.

No, she had whispered to herself, as she writhed into the soft bedding. If she still thirsted for revenge, she would have to marry Aemond. Keep him interested and relaxed – yearning for her voice and company.

the thing that i love most about her is that she's so smart in the ways she goes about it

“There is to be no bedding ceremony.” He repeated himself with ease, “I frightened her enough already. The girl will be plenty uncomfortable without the aid of chafing eyes.”

what makes me feel ill is that he isn't doing this for her, he's doing it because he's a jealous possessive cunt

MISS MA'AM. MISS MA'AM. THIS ISN'T FAIR YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME.

Hi, love your works so much! Can't wait for more updates 🥰🥰 I was wondering maybe you'd like the idea where book!Aemond and Velarion!(Strong?)Reader are in an arranged marriage. But Reader just knows what to say and how to act so that Aemond is wrapped around her finger (kinda thought of Margaery and Joffrey situation, she was such a talented schemer, worthy of winning the Throne 😭). I don't really know about the setting, like if it's before, during or after the Dance... just thought it'd be interesting to see this kind of plot with our beloved Prince 🤴🏼🐉

If you don't like it, just ignore me 🙈

Dragon Sickness (18+)

Pairing: bookcanon!Aemond x Strong!Niece!Reader

Warnings: No usage of (Y/N), Greens win AU, bookcanon Greens, the obvious Targaryen incest, mentions of major character deaths (we're entering spoiler grounds, but not really), blood, gore etc.

Word Count: 3.5K+

Author's Note: I fell in love with this idea the moment I saw it! I ended up altering the plot line for this one-shot a little bit - the reader will definitely grow into the Margaery architype, but today you shall see her as she was when she just learned how to make ends meet with her newfound life at Court.

I don't know if I should turn this into yet another series, but if you guys enjoyed this, let me know

Also, thank you so, so much for your kind words ♡ i'm hugging you to the moon and back!

Who could ever blame you for your indiscreet acts? Alliances change when the world you know suddenly turns upside down.

She remembered how weak she was. How scared she had been.

How her eyes widened into two brown specs of uncertainty, how her mouth fell agape, as she mulled over Alicent’s words.

‘You shall marry Aemond within the next moon turns. For the good of the Realm.’

The Dowager Queen had openly admitted to being against the match – of course, the prospect of her perfect son, married off to a lowly bastard of Rhaenyra's (otherwise said, her last surviving child), didn’t specifically thrill her. Much less her demanding and scornful father.

Still, it couldn’t be helped. And if the Velaryon wanted to keep her head away from a spike, she had no other choice but to comply.

Although… she wasn’t a Velaryon now, was she? Aegon the Usurper made sure of that.

His final gift to her was to strip her of all her titles. She had been openly declared a bastard – before the masses, before the Court.

With a wide smile upon his burnt lips, the “King” had told her she’d be a Targaryen instead. Driftmark wouldn’t matter, her legacy wouldn’t matter. Aemond would inherit the seat with the Usurper’s blessing, as a homage brought to his able fighting and his shown bravery on the bloody battlefield.

Never mind that he’d never partaken in a fight; save for the one that killed her stepfather, Daemon, and sent her poor mother in a downward spiral. Aemond had chosen his adversaries wisely, and managed to go through the whole war without as much of a scratch upon his silver armour.

‘I shan’t marry your son. Not now, not ever.’ Her own voice rang out.

‘You will do exactly as demanded.’

‘I would rather die than bear the treacherous children of that monstrous beast.’

A monstrous beast. That is what Aemond was.

And that is what he shall remain. No matter how many gifts he brought to her. No matter how many hours of their days and days in their weeks and weeks in their months they spent promenading those ghastly gardens.

‘You will if you know your best interests. Your own head may hold no value to you, but a single swing of my son’s sword would be enough to bring forth the ruin of House Blackwood.’

At first, she’d been restless in her attempts to escape the Keep. Her every waking hour was spent shamelessly inside the Sept, where she prayed not for the safety of her brothers’ souls, but for revenge against the mutted Greens.

The slight breeze of the cathedral mended her flesh from the heat of summer. And no one dared to approach or talk to her. The quietness was a welcomed deed.

During the first night of their betrothal, her glossy eyes scanned Aemond’s face. His hands wantonly gripped at his thighs and a slight twitch of his mouth, accompanied by an elongated hum escaped his lips.

There was no other discernable expression. And when he led her to the chambers of her early girlhood, he merely bowed and kissed her hand.

She spent the first night of their betrothal scraping her knuckles so harshly, that they broke and cracked under the stimulation of the cold water.

Her thirst for vengeance ceased after the first two months. Her wedding date was approaching swiftly, and she found herself faced with the abhorrent truth. She had no allies. No more friends at Court. The girl had shut herself in her tiny room, losing her mind with the pain and grief that flooded her at night: the faces of her mother, her brothers, her father. The sound of their screams and their endless pleas for help.

Every night, without a fail, she woke up tormented by nightmares – her throat burning with absolving shrieks of fear, exacerbated breaths of air and flimsy nightdresses, damp throughout by breaks of sweat.

The first night she lashed out onto her bedding was the night she found out Aemond had moved his Quarters next to hers. He yanked the door open and stepped into the light of her candle – looking ravished, completely out of breath and startled. Started not for his own accord and safety, but for the state that his future wife had been in.

‘Shit, it’s alright, I’m here–’

The echo of his mellow voice deterred her to let out a blood-curdling scream, that would have rivalled even the one of the late Queen Rhaenyra, after Aegon the Usurper ceased her at Dragonstone, and reeled his dragon to eat her whole.

‘Get the fuck away from me! Get the fuck out of my room!’

Her sobs pierced into the man’s heart, but his hurt expression was masked quickly with one most bitter and taciturn. He clenched his fists ruefully by his side, and spat out an apology in a low and dangerous tone.

‘As you wish.’

And how dearly he loved those words:

‘As you wish.’

'As you desire.’

Even though nothing had been, or ever will be, as she achingly wished them to.

“You could at least attempt to look happy.” His chastising tone rained upon her, as his Lady remained hammered in her seat. Maids flocked to her like lost chickens to their cock, arranging her hair and picking out dresses fit for their engagement parade.

Her face contorted into the mirror, and a faint sigh beleft her lips. Carefully she turned around, reflecting his stance with a subtle arch to her shapely brow.

“It’s bad luck to see your bride before the wedding ceremony.”

“An old wives' tale. And one that applies only on the day itself.”

“Perhaps we should encourage tradition more. Make it so we don’t cross paths at all til then.”

Just as fast as it came, the feral look dissolved over his tired face. Aemond heaved out a heavy exhale and merely settled to growl at her maids.

“Leave us. Now.”

A discontented look painted over her fair features. His niece opened her mouth in protest, to try and stop the fleeing girls from truly making their escape.

“I must remind my Prince that the engagement assembly will be held in less than an hour. I believe I should like them to stay.”

The gathered women exchanged lost and protruding glances, until the former King Regent spoke again.

“They will leave us at once.”

“They’ll do no such a thing. They must make haste to get me ready. We wouldn’t want to upset your mother.”

“I’m more than capable of lacing up a loose bodice.”

The tight expression on her face deserted her features with the leave of his smug retort. She swallowed thickly in enraged abandon, and silently beseeched her ladies not to leave her all alone.

Still ravishing her with his bold stare, Aemond stepped another foot into the cosy confinements of her tidy prison. “If I’m to turn around now and find any of you standing before me, I’ll arrange that you’re all flogged and defiled beyond the utter of salvation.”

Brisk footsteps swallowed the room, echoing wildly through the narrow dark hallways. The former Velaryon shook her head in disarray, and graced her soon-to-be-husband with a tight smile and a nod.

“Congratulations.” She uttered humorously, “I should enjoy looking like a fool tonight much more than being proper by your side.”

As if drowned below a trace, Aemond took another step in the direction of the frowning Princess. His face remained impenetrable, but as he opened his mouth to speak, his voice ran meek, unsure and hoarse.

“Turn around.” He commanded her gently, whilst grabbing a deep green garment from the cluttery made on her bed. Despite her lack of desire to abide by his request, the woman turned her back to him and muttered slowly, though much softer than intended.

“I don’t like that one. It’ll make the skirts look out of place.”

“Which one do you want, then?” His whisper had made her draw in a sharp gasp; the warmth of his breath fell soothingly over the nape of her neck, caressing her delicate skin in a way she hadn’t known was possible.

“The red one with black lacings.”

His hand came to spin her back around, and their noses nearly touched together. A smile tugged at the ends of his upturned lips, but the look inside his eye remained frigid and unforgiving.

“Your petticoat won’t be those colours.”

A conceited scowl graced her face. She reached her hand behind him and skillfully snatched one of a different design. “Fine. I want to wear this one, then.”

The obnoxious blue and silver danced across her paling skin. And if Aemond weren’t so dazed by their proximity and lack of air, he might have laughed at her feeble attempts of vexing him.

“Those are Velaryon hues.”

“Perfect. I shall honour my house well.”

“You are not a Velaryon to grace them with such a feat.”

“No, you are absolutely right. Your brother did name me a Targaryen.”

Their faces were so close to each other, that their moving lips were almost touching.

“Yet I can’t wear black and red either.” A prompted look disarmed the Prince, “It is all very confusing.”

His lone orb descended to her puffing bosom, but Aemond soon directed himself upon a more elusive image. His fingers twitched with the need to grab a hold of her – to pull away those last pieces of cloth that shielded her away from view.

“You know full well why I can’t allow that.” He hummed in unmoving disapproval, “As much as I enjoy your voice and the raptures of your closeness, I must say this conversation bores me.”

“I should be able to wear what I want.” Came her prompt and swift reply, “But of course, Your Grace, forgive me. ‘Tis not for men to pounder on laces and brims.” Her palms took to rest upon his bulging chest, and the girl nearly removed them at once, as the thrumming of his heart enterlaced with her slim fingers. Still, she furrowed her brows in a most perplexed of mockeries, and insatiably drove on, “Indeed resilient men such as yourself occupy their time much better.”

The callouses of his hands fell heavily upon her cheeks.

“Fucking their ways through brothels, getting their pricks wet, and fantasising about wars.”

The harshness of his next tug nearly broke her brave facade – her eyes widened in mistrust, and a slight recoil braced over her straightened back. Her small fingers clasped over his shaking wrist, which held onto her face with a gentleness untoward; one completely mismatching with the predatory glimmer in his eye.

The man he was, and the man he was trying to be would surely never mend to one.

A Kinslayer. A monster. A divergent freak.

Nothing more, and nothing less.

His thumb played absent-mindedly at her lower lip, and the young Princess tried her damnest not to bite him. “Did I strike a nerve with that one?”

“You are as imprudent as you are beautiful. A family trait, I assume.”

“You have my gratitude for the flattering commentary. I’m very proud of my heritage.”

His lilac orb bore into her, and the man let out a reserved laugh, “Your bastard brothers were ample proud. Look where that brought them.” The rough end of his hand gripped her own painfully, before she could make for a swing at his handsome face. “Lost in the seas, rotting at the bottom of an ocean, nestling inside Sunfyre’s belly.”

While her hands were clasped together, her mouth wasn’t sown shut. With a single and effective move, she spat harshly in his face, eliciting a groan from her broader perpetrator.

Though his nostrils flared up in disdain, the man graced her with a calculated smirk. “Did I strike a nerve with that one?” He mocked her with feigned interest.

“Fuck you,” She hissed out slowly, “Don’t you dare talk of my family – my brothers were ten times the man you are.”

“Oh, but I have every right to talk about your family. Given that I will be all yours shortly.” Once more he forced her to turn around, and kneeled over to her spasming form, to begin dressing her up; in nought else, of course, but the mundane silks of his choosing.

"Doesn't the prospect thrill you? To become my lady-wife, to finally bear a true Targaryen inside your royal womb?"

So hopeless and defeated she felt, that the youth jerked herself relentlessly, while repeating him the same plethora of words. “You cannot force me to be your whore. You cannot force me to wear this. I will not bear your Hightower green.”

Aemond could feel his patience running thin – and when her foot came into contact with his setting knee, the man let out a ferocious growl, and promptly trapped the girl in his arms, with the aid of a nearby wall.

“So you want to be difficult? You don’t want to wear this? Hmm? Well, who am I not to abide my Lady’s burning wishes?”

The sharpness of his dagger came into quick contact with the milky skin of her thighs. And she might have almost screamed, if Aemond didn’t immediately pull himself away. His hard chest grazed hers for but a moment, as the Prince cast his attention to her moving shadow.

“If you wish not to attend our engagement parade wearing the clothes I’ve chosen for you,” He muttered against her face, a scorned look adorning his own, “Then you won’t be wearing anything at all.”

She huffed out a dispensing pant and pursed her lips into a tight line.

She remained rigid and poised, until a spark of amusement swirled into her eyes.

The first crack was that of a lax smile. The next, a tremor to her lips. The calm before the storm approached, until all rattled down with a mirthed laugh cascading from her reddened lips.

“Do you mean to frighten me with this promise?” She asked through the arch of an uncertain brow, “As if every man in this cursed Keep won’t get to watch me whore myself out to you anyway, when our wedding night will come?”

His face suddenly hardened at the notion of their reality – as if he didn’t give much thought to the bedding ceremony. To his Lady being watched by a thousand other eyes but his.

Aemond suddenly darkened, and his fist came into contact with a near spot on the wall, so awfully close to her frightened, paling face.

She watched with wide eyes how his stare contorted from one of realisation to one of fury. He stiffly peeled his body away from hers, and strained himself to leave her be. The jealous and possessive knots that churned painfully inside his stomach burned his skin upon the surface, and constricted the air he brashly took in.

He nodded to her in a spry and calloused manner, and brought his hand out to touch her cheek. His knuckles had begun to bleed, busted by the force of impact that his fist had faced for him. Behind his eye danced a look of seldom shame – he gnawed harshly at his bottom lip, and pondered, for a while, on apologising to his niece; for his lack of princely conduct, for his show of impropriety – for his inability to keep himself at bay.

Still his thoughts failed to merge to words, and so the man ran his eye one final time over her defensive pose, and merely left her standing there.

As if turned into a statue, the girl barely registered the lethargic closing of the door, the hurried and heavy footsteps that travelled further and further away from her quaint and cluttered space, and the animated curse that slipped past her uncle's throat.

Did he just dare to leave her there, with her petticoat half up her legs, in nought else but a flimsy nightdress?

At first she thought that his avoidance was a blessing in disguise.

For after clashing wits with Aemond, and after his swift hurried departure, the man had barely graced her with another word.

His hand held onto hers for the whole duration of the procession. He wordlessly forced her to dance two dances, and led her to her Quarters as soon as she mentioned that she was tired.

But his palms didn’t linger on the shape of her narrow waist – his lips barely grazed her knuckles, and Aemond turned with lest a word to add after their fake sympathies were exchanged.

Had he gotten bored of her? Realised what a terrible match they made, and begged his mother on his hands and knees to break off their ill engagement?

For the first time in a while, a new notion of fear engulfed her.

The Greens couldn’t kill her. Of that, she was almost certain. It wouldn't be a wise move, and it would anger the North beyond the power of salvation. The war had had its say on every army that fought into it, yet the Crownlands were especially weak.

But if Aemond were to sever their solidary alliance, then her future would be most uncertain.

Otto Hightower would make her join with an old and withered Lord, no doubt – one with more than enough sons to further on his pesky line. One who couldn’t even get it up to her, who’d never procreate and mend their blood, who’d make sure Rhaenyra’s line would end with her.

Or perhaps she’d be sent to join the Faith – become a Septa or a Silent Sister, among the infamous Maris Baratheons of the Realm. Yet another girl who wouldn’t keep her tongue when asked.

And history might remember them as ‘the women who couldn’t be tamed’, but their lives would be thrown to ruin. Their existence would remain a sham.

No, she had whispered to herself, as she writhed into the soft bedding. If she still thirsted for revenge, she would have to marry Aemond. Keep him interested and relaxed – yearning for her voice and company.

… And if she had to whore herself to him to do it, she would obediently assume her role.

“I beg your pardon?” Aegon asked through another gulp of bitter wine, “Gods be good – I believe that now I’ve heard it all.”

Aemond paced about his brother’s room, with his hands clasped behind his back, and his face set into a deep grimace. He hummed in admission to his brother’s words, and glanced his way with the instance of a hooded eye.

“There is to be no bedding ceremony.” He repeated himself with ease, “I frightened her enough already. The girl will be plenty uncomfortable without the aid of chafing eyes.”

His brother smiled and raised his brows in nothing else but blinding wonder. A small shake of his head indicated his perplexion, and a sharp inhale his drawn decision.

“Mother insisted upon it. You know that well.” The man steadied himself in his chair as he spoke, whilst letting out a small grunt at the contact that the wood made upon his burnt remnants of skin. “I don’t see any reason to annul it. Especially now, an eve before.”

Another sip of the stinging liquor interrupted his smooth and ready trail of thought. The Targaryen brushed off Aemond’s concerns, and gleefully bided his teasing.

“It’ll do the two of you good – you’ll get to see she’s as pure as a bastard girl can be; and she’ll have no deniability that any of her future heirs are yours.” He pointed his weary digit in the direction of his stiffened form and swallowed down a hefty laugh. “Not to mention that Lord Redwyne and Tarly already placed bets on the state of her maidenhead. Would be a shame to disappoint them both, don't you think?"

“What mother thinks is of no consequence. And the amusement of the Realm matters not to me. There will be no bedding ceremony.”

“Nonsense, Aemond. It is our duty to upkeep the Realm – and to entertain its inhabitants if need be.”

When his reckless teasing was met with glacial silence, Aegon sighed as he briskly leaned forward. He watched his sibling with an indiscernible expression across his scorched veneer, and yawned greatly at his indisposed behaviour.

“Of course, we’re here to talk it out. But after so much time spent in your company, I fail to see the necessity for such a thing.” A sly smirk danced across his puffy lips, “Are you concerned that she won’t bleed? Or that you’ll be too cunt-struck by her to last enough to make a statement?”

Aemond’s fists descended upon the polished wood of Aegon’d desk. He thrashed his brother with a defiant glare, and hissed through his gritted teeth, and tight-set jaw.

“There will be no bedding ceremony for my niece and I. Tell that to every Lord that wishes to glance upon my wife – if they do so much as to cast their hands on her, they’ll be fucking their own wives with a wooden cock.”

Amusement laced with grave concern – the finality of Aemond's words ought to have vexed him, irk the King in his sibling's weighty insolence. Instead Aegon nodded, pushing back the feeling of dread that settled deep within his bones. His head jerked towards his closed oak door, signalling to his brother that his visit had been overstated. “What sort of brother would I be, to not grant you with this simple whim?”

The younger Targaryen mirrored his stance, and turned abruptly on his heel after a low grunt of gratitude.

His hand reached for the golden handle, but Aegon's words deterred him to a halt.

“But be careful with that one, Aemond. She’s brash and wholly unpredictable. Make sure the blood that stains your sheets come morning isn’t somehow your very own.”

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