#i'm so sorry Queen i cannot appreciate your work as it's supposed to be appreciated

[akai-anna]

i'll come out and say it *inhales deeply* Emma is boring

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 21/? Word count: 3022 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 19. That Leclerc Boy Of Yours

During the entire day, Charles couldn't shake off the gnawing anxiety that gripped him. The day had been a whirlwind of uncertainty, fueled by unsettling rumours and unanswered questions. For the entire day, there was still no update on Matilde's well-being, and it felt right with him.

Charles decided to make his way to the hospital on his own, and he didn't let anyone know, like it was his secret mission. Navigating through the fading light of the hospital's car park, Charles approached the entrance of the medical facility. His footsteps echoed in the quiet corridor. The sterile scene of antiseptic hung in the air as he approached the reception desk, where a nurse looked up from her paperwork.

"Excuse me," Charles began, his voice betraying the nervous tension within. "I'm looking for Matilde Jørgensen. She was brought in two nights ago."

The nurse nodded and looked Matilde up in the system. She told him where he should go for further information. Charles thanked the woman and walked through the white halls until he found the department reception to which he was sent. Another nurse looked up from her computer.

"I'm here for Matilde Jørgensen. I got sent here."

The nurse glanced at him with a mixture of sympathy and professionalism as if deciding whether to send him away. "I'm sorry, sir, but I cannot provide patient information. Family members only."

Charles' face fell with disappointment, but he couldn't give up that easily. He had to see Matilde, he had to see that she was alright. "But she knows me well, I know her well," Charles hopelessly replied, attempting to convince the nurse of the situation's urgency. "I just need to know if she's okay."

The nurse raised her eyebrows, her expression sceptical. "Oh? So what is your relationship with her then?"

"I'm her boyfriend."

"The boyfriend..." The woman nodded impressively, she knew who Charles Leclerc was, she knew who Matilde Jørgensen was and she knew that Matilde was his boss. "And I'm the Queen of England," she declared, her tone taking a playful yet authoritative note. "You are quite late to visit her, as 'boyfriend'. I appreciate your concern and love, but her family asked not to let visitors through unless we know it. I suggest checking with the family or the team for updates."

Charles nodded, and pressed his lips into a thin line. "Okay, thank you. Have a nice eve-"

"It's okay," someone cut him off, who approached the reception. The man padded on Charles' shoulder. "He is her boyfriend, he is with her, huh?" he looked amused at the nurse.

Charles looked next to him, surprised to see Christian Horner. So Christian was welcome, but he wasn't? Christian was wearing a grin on his face.

The nurse couldn't help but chuckle at the unexpected turn of events. She understood that Christian Horner was messing around too, but she allowed it because Christian had permission from her family to be around Matilde. "If there's a problem, I suppose I won't be there to help," she said with a smile sarcastically.

"Hopefully, there's no need for help," Christian said, walking through the hallway. He looked over his shoulder, wondering if Charles was following. A grin played on his lips; there was more going on than he knew. "I found your boyfriend in the hallway," Christian mentioned when he entered the room.

The four people in the room all looked at Christian. Matilde was frowning, Jens looked unamused, Max looked at Matilde to read her face, and Gemma was just grinning, waiting for the unknown boyfriend to enter the room.

"My what now?" Matilde asked.

"That Leclerc boy of yours."

Matilde's eyes shot to the door opening when Charles walked around the corner, entering the room. He got welcomed by five people, who all looked him straight in the eyes with straight faces. Charles felt his cheeks warming up. Not only did he face Max, but also a very muscular guy next to Matilde's bed who didn't look too friendly and another woman who couldn't stop smiling.

Matilde, on the other hand, looked tired, but confused. "Hey," she said, surprised.

"Hello," Charles uncomfortably said and stepped inside the sterile room. He squeezed in the stuffed animal he was holding. "Uh... Yeah... I wanted to see you and ask how you are doing." If he was honest, he didn't know what to do. Would he give her a hug? A hand? Nothing? Charles' eyes met with Max, Christian and Gemma's eyes, it looked like they were all enjoying the moment. However, the man next to Matilde was...he was very intimidating. Who even was he?

"Oh," Matilde softly said, a smile covering her face. "That is kind of you." Her response seemed genuine, and a hint of warmth softened the room.

Charles took a step closer, still feeling a bit awkward. He handed her the stuffed animal��a cute duck. "I thought this might cheer you up a bit," he said, a small smile playing on his lips.

Her face softened, and she accepted it. She looked at it like she had won the lottery. "Thank you," she smiled and pressed her nose into the duck. "I love it. It smells nice," she mumbled. "Thank you."

Charles greeted the members of Red Bull with a nod before he looked at the man on the other side of the bed. He stuck out his hand, slightly leaning over the bed. "I'm Charles."

The man grabbed his hand and shook it, giving Charles an extra firm handshake. "Jens, Matilde's brother."

Charles nodded; the brother. The press officer? He didn't look like a press officer. He had an idea that Jens knew more of him than he would've liked to be. Charles grabbed a chair and placed it next to Matilde. He sat down. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she replied. "I had appendicitis, so my appendix got removed."

"Oh," he nodded slowly. Appendicitis, nothing else. No stress. No mental issues. No addictions. No pregnancy. At least, he hoped none of that was happening. It was just appendicitis and it was already removed, everything looked fine now.

"Look at that," Max muttered playfully, who only noticed the stuffed animal now. "Charles, who brings her stuffed animals, how cute." He couldn't help, but grin and joke about it.

Jens, however, couldn't see the humour in it. He squeezed his eyebrows together and gave Charles a side-eye.

"Oh, come on, he's my... I'm his boss," Matilde sighed and shook her head disapprovingly.

"Hmmhmm," Christian hummed and smirked. "Who gets in by saying he's your boyfriend."

"I'm... My intentions are entirely professional, and I am just here to see how Matilde is doing," Charles defended himself. He and Matilde exchanged a glance, both slightly embarrassed by the unexpected turn of events.

Gemma, who had been observing the scene with a smirk, chimed in. She noticed some invisible strings between Matilde and Charles, like the way how Charles entered the room, or Matilde's reaction, or when Matilde said that the duck smelled nice - Gemma noticed Charles had pressed the stuffed animal against his body because he kept it in the pocket inside his coat. "Well, if this turns into a romance novel, count me out." She looked at her watch. "I'll leave you two alone for now. I have to go back to the hotel, anyway. Big day ahead tomorrow."

"Yes, I agree," Christian said.

"Maybe I will see you tomorrow or Sunday," Max added.

Matilde smiled. "Focus on the race. I will not die. See you after the race."

Christian, Gemma and Max left the room, leaving the couple alone with Jens, who still seemed to be evaluating Charles. "Do you want me to stay, or can I go home?" Jens asked his sister in Danish.

"Why can't you go home?" Matilde replied, confused.

He raised one of his eyebrows, not saying anything, but hinting it was about Charles.

"Oh. If you want to stay, you can stay, but I don't mind if you want to go home. It's been a long day, and you need to rest, too," she said.

"Okay," he nodded and got up. He gave Matilde a hug. "I will pick you up tomorrow, okay?"

"Yes," Matilde nodded. "See you tomorrow."

"And call when something is happening." Jens looked at Charles and gave him a hand. "Good evening," he said in English.

Charles smiled politely. "Good evening."

The Dane left the room, leaving the team principal and driver behind.

And for the first time, Charles felt like he could breathe. After last week, it still felt uncomfortable to see Christian because he had lost it in front of him, same goes for Max. He also knew that Matilde had told Gemma about it, and Max probably had, too, since they were all connected. And then her brother Jens... Charles didn't know what Matilde told him, but he was sure he knew something because of his behaviour. Why else would he react so cold and overprotective?

"How did you get here?" Matilde then asked Charles.

A shy chuckle rolled over his lips, and he leaned back on the chair. "I... eh... I needed to see you, and I just went to the hospital."

She nodded impressively, she appreciated it. Even though her family decided that no one should visit her so that she could rest properly, she still appreciated his visit. And of course, Max, Christian and Gemma's visit. "That's sweet of you." She looked down at the duck, tracing her fingers over the soft fur.

He shifted in his chair, a bit uncertain about how to proceed. The air in the room felt lighter without the watchful eyes of Matilde's family and friends, but the weight of concern still lingered. "God, Matilde, I was so worried," he blurted, letting out some air. His shoulders hung low.

Matilde parted her lips, not knowing how to react. Blushes appeared on her cheeks. Her eyes shot to the heart rate monitor. Luckily, the sound was off, but if it wasn't... She was hoping that the nurses wouldn't panic and randomly enter the room in a rush to see a quick heartbeat caused by just one sentence—and the way it was being said.

"There were so many rumours and no one knew what was actually going on. The rumours went from alright, reasonable to worse," he shared.

"Like what?" Her eyes shot up to him. Rumours? What rumours?

Charles wanted to say something, but then realised that she must not have heard the rumours for a reason. "Can I say it?" He scanned her face. "Because I assumed you knew them, but you don't-"

"Please, say it. My brother has been keeping my phone away for the entire day, on doctor's orders, to keep me away from the stress," she sighed. "So, please tell me. I can handle it."

"But, they kept it away for a reason."

"Charles, I have been dying for updates. You see, I am way too curious and... I just want to have an update on the entire day, the team, the sessions, you, Carlos." Her voice sounded cheerful again, for the first time in days.

"Stubborn or?" A cheeky smile came on his face.

"I'm just very interested."

"Stubborn, against doctor's orders."

"Yes." Matilde smiled. "Now, go on."

"Do you really want to hear it?" Charles met her gaze, she was waiting for it. He nodded. "Okay, so the rumours... It started off with stress and exhaustion."

She looked impressed. "Fair."

"Then they assumed you couldn't handle the job, and collapsed due to an addiction..." He took a breath to think about the rumours. "High blood pressure due to an unconfirmed pregnancy, miscarriage."

Matilde scoffed and squeezed her eyebrows together in disbelief. "I officially lost the faith in humanity. Who even made this up? Whose fanfiction machine is making over hours?" She shook her head and smirked. "Well, I can confirm, none of those are true."

"Well, yeah."

"I wanted to tell you all about it, but my family made the decision to not share it yet since we're still waiting on some other results. I can confirm it's appendicitis, but not for the other results yet," she shared, it was like she told him about a secret. "And to be honest, I liked the quietness."

"I understand you, I absolutely do, but I also understand those rumours... What actually happened?"

"For the entire day, week, I felt like shit, but I assumed it was something else. So sorry if I reacted like crap to things, it wasn't personal. Anyway, during the team principal meeting, it escalated. I somewhat collapsed. They say that if I waited for a couple more hours, my appendix would have burst, and that's way worse." Matilde pressed her lips into a thin line and shrugged.

"And now?"

"I am leaving the hospital tomorrow morning. I have to rest for three weeks, and I cannot travel."

A glimpse of disappointment went through his eyes, followed by concern. "So you can't go home?"

She shook her head and sighed. "Nope. I have to stay in the UK for three weeks. It's up to Ferrari whether they want me to work from home, but the chances are small that will happen. So I guess I will be out of the team for three weeks," she mentioned. "At least," she quietly added.

"Who will replace you? Where will you be staying here?"

"Uh..." Matilde blew up her cheeks. "I will stay at an Airbnb, trying to get a fast recovery. And they will probably get someone from the board to replace me, or supervise you for three weeks. But it will be fine. You survived today as well. So, time for updates?"

Charles put a small smile on his face; he wasn't sure about the situation, but he couldn't change the facts. "Well, that sucks... But there's nothing else that we can do," he breathed. "But, err... It went alright. We collected enough data for tomorrow."

She slowly nodded, it didn't sound too promising, but there was nothing else that she could do about it. If that was what he wanted to share, then that was it. He wasn't here to get an interrogation. And even though she was curious, she decided to let it go. Their conversation shifted to a lighter subject, about the track itself and other hospital experiences.

During their chat, Matilde noticed a chill in the air, and a shiver ran through her weakened body. She was only wearing a T-shirt and thin tracksuit bottoms. Of course, she was laying under a blanket, but it was summer, warm, so she was laying under a summer blanket. While listening to Charles, she glanced at the sweater draped over the back of a nearby chair. It was probably a good idea to put it on. However, she couldn't reach it due to the recent surgery. It was a simple task, but it made it seem daunting.

"Sorry," Matilde said when she had to answer a question. "Do you mind giving me my sweater? It's getting a bit cold here."

"Oh, yes, of course," he replied with a gentle smile. He got up, grabbed the sweater, and moved closer to the bed, holding the sweater open for her.

It was a hint from Charles to Matilde to help her. Matilde just let it happen. She carefully put her arms into the sleeves, but the movements were stiff. Charles, sensing her discomfort, took another step closer. His eyes locked onto hers. Their gazes held an unspoken understanding, a connection that transcended the boundaries of their professional roles.

With a delicate touch, Charles gently guided the sweater over her head and shoulders, being careful not to cause any strain. He pulled the sweater down her torso, ensuring the fabric covered her body nicely. Their eyes remained fixed on each other.

Charles carefully pulled her braid out of the collar, placing it over her right shoulder. His fingers delicately brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Matilde's breath caught as his fingers lingered on her skin for a moment longer. She felt the warmth of his touch, a tender reassurance in the midst of uncertainty. His hand cupped her cheek, the soft pad of his thumb rubbing a shooting pattern.

A quiet knock on the door shocked them. Charles turned around immediately, widening his eyes, facing the nurse of this department. Matilde's eyes shot to the door as well.

"Sorry to interrupt, but the visiting hours are over," the nurse mentioned, smirking. "Even for your 'boyfriend'. Tomorrow is a new day."

Charles glanced back at Matilde, his eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and embarrassment. He took a step back, creating a subtle distance between them. "Oh, eh, sorry," he mumbled, his cheeks slightly flushed. "I didn't realise it was that late. Visiting hours and all."

An understanding smile grew on Matilde's face, but she couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment at the abrupt end of their moment. "No worries. Thanks for visiting me, I appreciate it."

"Yeah, anytime." He gave her a nod. "I'll, um, see you around, I guess. Oh, and, eh, what can I say to the team?"

"Just what really happened. I will post a message tomorrow on Instagram, contact Ferrari and whatever needs to be done," she said.

He nodded. "Okay. You won't be here tomorrow, right?"

"Nope."

"See you later, then."

"Bye. Good luck. And tell the team that I said hi."

As Charles made his way to the door, the nurse's smirk lingered in the air, adding more discomfort to the situation. Matilde watched him go, a mix of emotions swirling within her. She let her head fall onto the pillow behind her and sighed; what was going on?

"Your boyfriend, huh?" The nurse just adored the situation. She walked towards Matilde, ready to check some monitors.

Matilde's eyes shot open. "No," she immediately replied. She cleared her throat. "I'm his boss."

"Mhm-mhm," the nurse hummed. "I see. Charles likes you," she concluded. "And I will make a bet: he will be your boyfriend anytime soon. The way he looks at you and treats you, the best man fancies you. And you do the same, but you don't realise it yet."

"Yeah, right," Matilde snorted. "Never. I don't date people I work with."

"Dating is not the same as loving."

Next chapter

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313

[fenmere]

I sat there, looking down at Tommy for a good few seconds after he said that.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm rethinking my whole premise now," I replied. "Thank you for your input. It's invaluable."

"But... I think it's a good idea?" he sounded worried.

I was already rearranging the pieces on the board, "Yes, you did. And I definitely appreciate that, and you might even be right. But, you've also successfully convinced me to try something else instead, and that's ultimately a good thing."

"I don't think I understand," Tommy said. "It sounds like you're giving me a backhanded compliment."

"OK, let's walk through this," I said, as kindly as possible, moving my queen back into her starting position. This looked like a typical chess board. It was a metaphor. And in more ways than one as I began to explain things. "You're human, right?"

"Yeah?"

"You sound uncertain. It is possible that you are not. And if you're not, I need to know."

"No. No, I'm pretty sure I'm human. I'm just worried about where this is going."

"That's reasonably healthy," I replied. "I'm sorry, I'm going to sound a little blunt about this, even as I try to ease you into the way we dragons look at things, but I think it will benefit you to hear it, OK? And I genuinely do not mean you any malice or ill will."

"OK," he said.

"The world does not work the same way for humans as it does for... literally anybody else," I stated.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, that's less of a significant statement than it sounds. The world works differently for each individual, as well as each set of people. But, in this case, what I mean is that what is a good idea for humans is not necessarily a good idea for dragons, or squirrels, or mimes. For example."

"I suppose that makes sense," he said. "Wait. Mimes?"

"Let's focus on this," I pointed to the chess board. "And again, you make me nervous when you say, 'that makes sense,' but I'll get to that."

"OK?"

"As you know, this is a chess board," I said.

"Yes."

"And you know, because you requested it, that I'm using it in a... I don't have a word I like for this, but you would call it a spiritual or magical purpose. Like divination, but different, more active. A... conversation," I said.

"Yes, OK. Yes. I feel like we covered that when I came to you," he replied.

"That's true, but I'm starting from there. Laying the groundwork for my explanation," I said.

"Got it."

"Typically, when you engage with a chess board, you do so for the purposes of playing a game, right? To compete with what is usually another human, to see who has the best strategy to win? Yes?"

"Yes. Usually, yes."

"I'm a dragon, I don't do that," I told him.

"Oh, and that affects how the magic works?" Tommy asked. "Like, the reason I came to you in the first place is that dragons are known to be better at this, and it's because of that?"

"That's definitely part of it," I said.

"That makes sense," he said.

I visibly cringed.

"Sorry," he added. "I don't know what else to say."

"Well, it's what occasionally follows that sentence that has me on edge," I said.

"Oh. Why?"

I'd been staring down at the chess board, trying to plan out my series of moves, ever since I'd reset it, but now I looked back down at him and studied him for a moment. I was trying to judge just how to say the next few things. I didn't really have a good gauge for him, though.

I know humans way better than most other dragons. I actually like them. I wrote a webcomic for them to read for fifteen whole years, after all, about them. And some of them really liked it.

But they still baffle me, because I'm not human.

"So, the way the universe, or magic as you call it, works," I said, getting back to my original infodump, "is that expectation and perspective are just about as important as intention, if not more so, when it comes to doing just about anything. For instance, as a dragon, I can expect to move a certain size of boulders that you cannot expect to do so. Right?"

"Right, yes. We usually call that physics, though," he said.

I nodded, then gestured at the chess board, "That's why I prefer to use the term 'universe' to describe this, instead of 'magic'. And the fact that you think of this chess board as 'magic' and the boulder as 'physics' is why this chess board will work differently for me than for you."

"Oh!" he nearly shouted. "I get it! I think. Because of that differences, because magi - the universe knows that you are a dragon and that you expect it to work differently from you than for me, it'll work better?"

"No."

"No?" he looked really confused and disappointed.

"Close, but you phrased it all wrong. Well, maybe right for a human understanding, but not mine and not how I'm trying to explain this," I said.

"Huh," he grunted. Then he looked up at me all perplexed. "Something I'm curious about is if you dragons don't play chess to win, how do you use a chess board?"

"OK, this is a long one, too," I said.

"That's fine."

"Promise me that you won't say, 'that makes sense.'"

"O - OK."

"Chess is a human invention," I pointed out. "And it is meant to simulate certain kinds of human interactions by becoming another form of human interactions. But, a chess board is not made from humans (at least, not this one). So, to me (and mind you, this is me, not necessarily other dragons), it is a highly ritualized construct that can act as a bridge between the machinations of humanity, in particular the grand sociological movements of humanity, and the rest of the universe."

"Which is why you can use it to help me find that girl I liked?"

"I'm not actually going to do that for you," I said.

"But I thought -" he blurted, but I halted him with my outward, open palm. Which was about twice the size of his head.

"First of all, I'm a girl," I told him.

"You are? But your beard," he said.

"Dragons have beards. A lot of girls have beards. Anyway, there's a certain solidarity to girlhood that I will not cross, and you don't have an inherent right to access her unless she consents to it."

He pouted, "Then what are you doing for me?"

"Helping you find a girl that consents to you," I said.

"Oh," he sounded disappointed but a little hopeful. Less like it made sense to him, and more like it was maybe acceptable for his goals. Reassuring. "So, the white pieces don't represent her. They represent all girls?"

I slowly shook my head, "That's not how the universe works at all."

"I'm so confused."

"But," I offered. "That's the kind of difference in thinking between us that factors in why you thinking that something is a good idea and that it's the way you'd do it is a huge warning sign to me."

"OK," he said, staring into the space just a few feet in front of him, eyes glazed, holding up a finger and tapping the air. "That makes - I think I can accept that."

"Also," I said.

"Also?"

"When one of you humans does something?"

"Yeah?"

"It often ends in injury or death."

He just stared at me.

"Not all the time. Maybe not even most of the time. It depends on how you look at it. But more often than is comfortable for my taste."

"Is that why faeries actively avoid us?" he asked.

"Yes."

"OK, but then, if anything I do is potentially that dangerous, then why do you even tolerate me coming here to talk to you and seek your help?" he asked.

"Well," I said. "I don't want to hold it against you!"

But, if I was reacting that strongly to "That's the way I'd do it," maybe I still had work to do on that regard.

Hm.

But, you know what I mean, right?

The scariest phrase that can come out of a Human’s mouth is “Makes sense, that’s how i’d do it”

[ackermental]

Hi! Hi! I hope you’ve been having a beautiful day or evening so far! How are you? :D I saw this post this morning, and I love how you dissect and go into detail with different accounts of stories or opinions and I was genuinely wondering, is it true that Daemon cheats on Rhaenyra with a mistress? Or was that another false claim from Mushroom/The Maester? Also there is that dreaded claim that Daemon is only after the throne and not after Rhaenyra’s heart! I wanted to know your honest take on this, I love open discussion a ton and it gives me further knowledge and insight truly! :D (Ps LOL am I a sick fuck for actually smiling about the Mysaria comment towards Daemon about Rhaenyra? I’m sorry, but Daemyra could cause me to go bankrupt, I’m absolutely addicted to them, I simply CANNOT. 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🐉🐉 anyways! Thank you for taking the time to read all this if you find time, I appreciate it as always! :)) DAEMYRA FOR THE WINNNNN MFSSSS 🔥🔥🔥!!!

Please, don't feel like I'm dismissing you, but I've already answered the question about the ridiculous claim that Daemon didn't love Rhaenyra and only used her to get the throne in this post and I don't feel like repeating myself all over again.

And that post you sent me only proofs that people don't understand the Rogue Prince and the Princess and the Queen at all. My god, only a complete moron can write something like that, exposing their own stupidity for the whole world to see.

Maesters were the ones who used young girls for their own gain. They were the ones who told Viserys it would be perfectly fine to rape Aemma when she was eleven. They were the ones killing women and unborn children left and right. Oldtown Triad has so much blood on their hands, they are the ultimate creeps in this story, they are the ones who should make your skin crawl.

Here you have my take on F&B being a crooked mirror of historical sources in our own world.

How can you read those books and don't notice that Oldtown with it's Citadel, Sept and Hightowers is a reference to Vatican, only worse? Worse because in ASOIAF they are going to the Sept during the day, preaching to other people of Westeros about how they should live their lives while being assholes themselves, and then at night they go back to play with their creepy, dark magic. I shit you not, they are like some frickin’ Illuminati of the Seven Kingdoms. Like, Jesus, did any of those idiots even do some reasearch on Hightowers? Those fuckers are fanatic zealots!

And they are responsible for writing Westeros' history! They are the ones who control all letters aka communication system in that world.

When you hear the word 'maester' you're not supposed to think about some poor, educated fellows who were suffering under their masters' ignorance. You are supposed to think about priests, who were keeping all of the ancient knowledge to themselves, whispering lies to their lords, poisoning their minds and their bodies, while trying to control them.

I've never seen a 'history book' as biased as Gyldayn's. This man is contradicting himself not even every second page, but sometimes every second sentance. Maesters murdered Aemma and Laena in cold blood, at the least. You want to be a defender of women, take it out on some creeps grooming children or old men causing trauma for little girls? Oldtown Triad is right there for you.

And they hated the Blacks with a burning passion.

So you know what? I'm standing over there in the corner with those Black guys.

Here is me ranting to poor @ladyalianora about maesters being suss.

//Not to mention: this whole grooming shit? The brothel visits? Daemon teaching Rhaenyra how to suck dicks? Daemon having a lover? Even Gyldayn doesn't have the audacity to say those rumors are true.

Makes you wonder why did he put Mushroom's nonsense in his 'academic' work at all, doesn't it? (Not that the other sources, them being a septon and yet another maester, are any better). And the real reason he did it, was so the people would come to the same, idiotic conclusions as the person who wrote that post above.

It's insane, isn't it, how easy it is to manipulate history, if you only use the right tools. It's almost like GRRM was trying to make a point with F&B other than telling a story about 'huehue, incest, dragons, big fight'.

So what am I saying? That some of those things didn't even happen in the first place?

Yeah, that's exactly what I'm trying to say.

It's almost like Daemon and Rhaenyra could've become close, fall in love even, after his return, without him teaching her how to fuck dwarfs 🤔🙄😯. It's almost like Hightowers accused him of grooming the Princess of Dragonstone in order to get rid of him for a second time 😮. By lying. You know? Just like they did it all those years before, by providing false witnesses and lying 😱😵. Or they simply had an affair and some Hightower spy told the King everything. Mind-blowing stuff, huh?

By this point I know I'm like a broken record BUT IF YOU CHOOSE TO BELIEVE THAT DAEMON HAD ROMANCE WITH NETTLES, THEN I CHOOSE TO BELIEVE ALICENT WAS RIDING JAEHAERYS' DICK. IT'S THE SAME FUCKING SOURCE!

Two more asks about this, and I swear to god, I'll put those words above my bed.

[jbbarnesandnoble]

Hearts in Secret: Epilogue

Pairing: King!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Readers

Summary: A year after their wedding, James and Y/n visit the place where it all began

Warning(s): Fluff, so much fluff it might make you sick, a poorly written wedding scene, questionable writing

Word Count: 3,021

Prompt: "Do you even know my name, screw boy?"

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: this is it, the ending to one of my very first fics... I almost cried writing it. there were a few times i had to go back to old chapters for reference and I got hit with so much nostalgia... I know it's not the most well-written fics out there but my days, it is so important to me. bucky and y/n in this fic are my favorites, I adore writing them. I'll miss them so much. i know it took a while to get here, but I appreciate all of your support! I'm sorry for all of the delays. But I am so thankful for everyone who has read and commented on this series! ily all! also know the delays on the final part were for the best, because this is the only way I could have thought to end the series

(not my picture)

Four Months Later.

The most anticipated event of the year is here and the princess' nerves cannot bear the anxiety that comes with it. She is, of course, excited. However, the thought of all those people watching her and Bucky share an intimate moment such as this, feels wrong. As if this wedding is meant for her and James alone. It’s fitting for their service to mirror how they met, just the two of them. But alas, that cannot be the case. The King and Queen would never approve of it.

"You are nervous my dear." The older woman strokes the princess's hair as she speaks. Nimble fingers work gently to detangle small knots.

"I should not be. I should be excited." Y/n mumbles. Disappointed in herself for feeling the way she does. As hard as she tried, she has had no luck in shaking away her anxiety. Even if she is able to find a distraction, it never seems to last for long. 

"It is your wedding day. It would be strange if you were not nervous." Queen Sarah's voice is calm, reassuring as always. Her mother’s steady hands comb through her hair, noticing the vase of baby’s breath on the desk, she places a few in the braids crowning her head. Y/n leans into her mother's touch. 

"Were you?"

"Nervous?" The queen asks though she already knows the answer. Then she laughs, as elegant as ever. "More than you know my dear." Y/n has heard the story of her parent’s wedding more times than she can count. However, the queen has always left out her true feelings going into her wedding day. 

"Had it not been for my mother I would have hidden away in the gardens." She smiles fondly, her blue eyes are distant as she remembers that day as if it had taken place last week.

"I was so nervous, my ladies in waiting were not able to do anything to help me get ready. I would not stop moving." The two women laugh as Queen Sarah, she finds her mother’s story reassuring. It calms her knowing that even the effortlessly perfect Queen Sarah gets nervous, allowing her emotions to get the better of her from time to time. 

_______

"How are you feeling, James?" Steve asked the anxious man in front of him. A second passes him by before he mumbles out some sort of answer, which Steve does not hear. Nervous hands fidget with the cuff of his sleeve, adjusting them for the seventh time in an hour. James stares at the large castle that his soon-to-be wife has called home her entire life. He wonders how it must feel, knowing she will not be able to call it home after today. 

“Nervous, I suppose.” He pauses for a second, though it feels to be hours to him. “Although I feel foolish for feeling that way.” He admits, his cheeks turning a pale shade of pink. He ducks his head and a few strands of hair fall into his face.

Steve's hand clasps onto his shoulder, giving it a few squeezes before reassuring his friend that everything will be okay. Before James has the chance to share more of his concerns, a royal carriage arrives in front of them, the horses whinny as they are halted to a stop. A few seconds pass before the footman opens the coach door. Queen Sarah is first to step out, grabbing onto the footman's outstretched hand, she descends the steps of the coach. 

Gravel crunches under her heel as she walks over to where the two men stand, a radiant smile on her lips. Her dress is long, flowing, and the most beautiful shade of scarlet. She greets both of them, first hugging her son, then her soon-to-be son-in-law.

“You look stunning,” Steve greets her, wearing a smile that mirrors her own.

James waits anxiously, poking a shoe at the gravel, waiting for his bride to exit the carriage. What feels to be an hour passes before the footman outstretches his hand. Before James’ mind has a chance to catch up with his body, he is running towards the carriage, blue eyes fixated on its golden details. Stopping next to the young boy, he insists he can take over for the time being.

Hand stretched out, she places a hand into his palm, fingers wrapped around hers, he carefully helps her down the stairs. Azure eyes meet e/c ones, standing inches away, he towers over her, making her crane her neck to look at him.

“I knew it was you,” she whispers, breathless and starry-eyed as he watches her, bright blue eyes scanning over every detail, he soaks her in, his hands holding her arms as if she were a delicate flower. She melts into his touch. 

"You look…" his sentence trails off as he looks over every detail, he notes how the royal blue dress brings out the light in her eyes, long hair cascades down her back, two braids wrapped around her head creating a crown, baby’s breath standout amongst the h/c hair. She radiates light as if she were a goddess sent to earth simply for him.

“Radiant.” he finally utters, had it not been for their proximity, she would not have heard him. Long figures graze over ornamental jewels adorning the velvety material, hands resting on her arms, he gently pulls her closer. 

“And you look handsome. Far more handsome than any other man I have seen.” She compliments wearing an easy smile. Her words are as honest and true as she is. When offered, she loops her right arm through his left elbow, they walk towards Steve and their mother.

"Are you ready, my love?" she asks, whispering so only he can hear her. He gulps, swallowing the lump in his throat. A nod of his head tells her he is, the look on his face says something else.

"I have been nervous all morning. Had it not been for Mother I might have run away." Her joke helps him to relax slightly. A bit of tension leaves his shoulders. A smile pulls at his lips, then he laughs, it is short and sweet but helps relieve them all the same.

Arm in Arm, they walk towards the royal carriage, prepared for them to be taken to the church. Behind them, Steve and their parents follow on horses. 

James sits across from Y/n, eyes watching the scenery as they ride by. A comfortable silence falls between them.

As they near the cobblestone building, the minstrels begin playing a song they had been practicing for weeks. The congregation stands, out of respect for the king and future queen. All eyes on them, as they exit the carriage. Walking down the aisle, guests whisper good fortunes.

They ascend the cobble stairs, stopping in front of the priest. The band stops, the guests sit, and the priest begins the ceremony. Standing hand in hand, they vow to love each other through sickness and health, and for the rest of their lives. A promise which is sealed by a kiss. 

One Year Later

She stands there, eyes closed and breathing in the cold wind; dancing across her face and flowing through her hair. The winter air is cold against her skin, a chill runs down her spine, one she doesn't quite mind. It had been far too long since she last left the walls of her new home, no thanks to the endless winter and the mountains of snow it brought. Although she would not call roaming the palace gardens leaving, it was as close as she had gotten in a long while.  

The wind blows again, the slightest bit warmer than the first, there is a promise behind it, that the bitter winter shall soon end and will be replaced with the spring. Birds begin to chirp and flowers bud. Two more signs of the change in seasons. Another light breeze moves her dress as careful hands inspect a budding rose. 

A voice calls out to her from behind, asking, "Are you okay, M’lady?" eyes snap up, instantly locking with blue ones. She smiles, “The roses are budding quite nicely this year.” her eyes drop down to the yellow rose between her fingertips. James drapes his left arm around her shoulders and plants a kiss onto the crown of her head. 

Light grey clouds litter the afternoon sky, patches of light blue and rays of sunshine peek through, the wind blows them to the north. A young Cardinal flies past, landing on the branch of a Magnolia, the branch bounces from the new weight of the bird, making day-old snowfall to the ground, revealing flower buds, one more promise of winter’s end. 

“The men confirmed the paths are clear enough to ride.” James comments, blue eyes watching the horizon, he pulls her closer before turning to wrap both arms around her shoulders, eyes staring into hers, a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. Arms snake under his cloak and tightly around his waist, warmth and the scent of pine greets her. She looks at him, taking in his appearance, cheeks and nose are rosy from the cool air, 

“Would you like to go for a ride, m’lady?” his question is met with a blank face staring up at him. Arms wrapped around his waist, she weighs her options. He watches her as she thinks, it has been a year since they wed, yet James is still not used to having another presence in the castle. For years it had been him and his servants, guards, and the rest of the palace workers. He grew used to isolation after his parents death. But now he is no longer alone, he has his elegant, wise, caring, and incredibly beautiful wife to keep him company, which is a feeling he is still navigating. He thanks God for that fateful day they met in the woods.

“We have far too many responsibilities to be running off. Besides, we are not children anymore. It is time to grow up, James.” The blue-eyed man stares at her, face blank as if he does not know the woman standing before him. Where had the wild, carefree girl he met in a forest long ago, disappeared to? Who was this responsible Queen in front of him?

The smile he once wore drops, “Are you feeling okay, my dear?” he asks her, distress evident in his tone. Raising a hand, he feels her forehead with the back of his hand, her skin against his is warm, but she does not seem to be running a fever. He watches her another moment, hand cupping her face. Disappointment pinches in his chest, though he supposes this is for the best, he is king, and she is queen. To leave would be irresponsible.

A smile spreads across her face, so wide it almost hurts. “Do you truly believe that I would ever deny a chance to escape?” She questions, eyebrow raised, a smirk on her lips, she leans into his touch.

“Of course, I want to go. Had you asked me to run away I would have said yes, I will go anywhere so long as I am with you, my love.” Pink flushes his cheeks, embarrassed he failed to catch onto her jest. He sees in full now, the mischief in her eyes. Soft lips kiss his wrist. He finds reassurance in her touch. 

“I thought you might be ill,” James admits, a chuckle leaving past his lips, he laughs to hide the worry he felt. He pulls away, just enough to take her hand into his, urging her to follow him to the stables.

Tacking up the horses takes longer than usual, while Y/n is on the lookout, James gets them ready. They must not be as discreet as they once were, because a few maids and a royal guard, who has been working for no more than a month, walked past. Peter, a young stable boy, asked them why the king and queen were preparing the royal horses themselves. To which James told him they had secret, royal business to attend to. The white lie made laughter bubble in the queen's chest, she did well to hide it behind her hand.

Bucky rides down a path his wife is not all that familiar with. She follows him, no questions asked, considering that she is still learning the lands, she does not have much room for question. Patches of snow cover the ground, mixing with mud as it melts. Budding trees surround them on either side as James rides down a narrow path, leading into the forest. The deeper into the forest they ride, the more she recognizes her surroundings. A small smile begins to pull at the corners of her lips. Old memories of a different life flood her mind. 

A small brook babbles as they ride next to it, chunks of ice and snow flow downstream. A young deer stands by the water’s edge, ears alert as the king and queen ride past. The sun shines through the edge of the forest, golden rays illuminate the ground, reflecting off of patches of melting snow. Past the trees, they ride into a familiar field. At The top of a small hill sits an old Oak tree, a full-blown smile spread across her lips at the sight of it. Though the leaves have long since fallen from its branches, and it seems to have grown since the last time she had seen it, she is pleased to know it has not changed much in over a year's time. 

Calling out for James, Y/n pulls Luna to a halt. He follows suit, circling around to stand next to her, leg brushing against hers. Windswept hair blows into her face, covering her eyes, the blue-eyed man leans across his horse, tender fingers brush the strands out of her face, tucking them behind her ear. 

“What is on your mind, M’Lady?” A gust of wind blows through them, making the trees sway, as if they were dancing to a song only they knew. His hand slides down from her face, leaving them to rest atop her hands. The look in her eyes and the flash of her smile is one he knows all too well. He mirrors her smile, with a squeeze of his leg and a slight pull of the reign, he urges Apollo to turn around, the horse whinnies from underneath him.

“Whenever you are ready, my love.” She readies herself, eyes trained on the hill in front of them. In one swift movement, she urges Luna to move, to run towards the Oaktree. Adrenaline and freedom surge through her veins, feelings she had nearly forgotten about. The last time she had raced was with James, she missed the way it made her feel, the freedom it gave her. She missed the wind whipping through her hair and the chill of the wind against her face. 

She realizes at that moment that she began to grow accustomed to living in James’ Kingdom, her kingdom. The need to escape, to run away from her royal duties, they have left her. The desire for independence, liberation from being a queen, she does not care about such things anymore. Because now, she has found someone who makes palace life bearable. She has someone who understands her wishes, yet encourages her to continue down her path, no matter the trials that come their way. If at some point any of that were to fail her, if his love and encouragement were not enough for her any longer, she knows that he would run away if she were to request it. No questions asked.

James rides ahead of her, but with a squeeze of her leg, she prompts Luna to go faster. Seconds before they reach the tree, Y/n races in front of him, beating her husband. 

“I do believe that makes us three to six.” she declares, recalling their previous races. James gasps, handheld on his heart in offense as he stops a few feet away from where she sits on Luna. 

“I beg to differ.” He debates, his mind runs back to their race, there is no doubt he had five wins, she had three. Eyes trained on her as he dismounts, leaving Apollo to eat from a patch of grass, he walks over, handheld out for her to take if she desires. Her touch is warm against his cold skin when she accepts his assistance. 

From inside the saddle pouch, Y/n pulls out a large blanket, the same one James had used the night she fell asleep on his shoulder. She had soon realized that was the first time she had allowed herself to trust someone, at least to the point of falling asleep on them. Letting her go for a moment, he spreads the green blanket onto the ground, over a dry patch of grass. 

Under the protection of the large branches, they sit on that silent hill where their story began. Y/n tucked safely between James' strong arms, he holds onto her as if the breeze were enough to rip her out of his embrace. They watch, eyes trained on the distant skyline, as the sun hangs over the trees. Colors of ice blue and dusty red paint a beautiful portrait only nature could create. 

Another wind blows and she sinks deeper into his embrace, he wraps himself tighter around her, protecting her from winter's bite. "I love you, M'Lady." he whispers against her neck, a shiver runs down her spine at the sensation. 

"I love you, Buck." she whispers back as he litters her neck with soft kisses. It is there, in that place of solitude and isolation where they find their peace. It is atop the hill where they first discovered love, where they realized they were two lonely souls seeing affection rather than freedom. It is underneath the Oaktree where they found they were simply two hearts in secret, waiting to be discovered by the other. 

______

Part Five