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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 1 year ago

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From the Ashes Pt. 34

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, injuries, amputation of leg, Rhaegar POV

Words: 5480

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42

Book Two of Dārilaros hen ōrbar se perzys (Heir of Ash and Fire)

“Open the gate!!!” Shouted the men atop of the fortress. Rain pelted their helmets and the wild wind threatened to knock them off the battlements.

Nearly painfully slow, the portcullis that groaned in reply was pulled up so the men waiting on the ground could hurry in. Tired, battered, and many suffering from illness brought on by the cold, the men huddled inside.

Tattered banners featuring stags and other sigils of the houses that made up Rhaegar’s army are dropped to the floor in relief.

Rhaegar gazed up at the dark gray sky above his head that washed them with it’s despotic rain. He welcomed it and closed his eyes in a sense of relief. Not considering themselves safe by any means, at least they had respite from their most recent failure. Spirits dampened, everyone needed time to mend and breathe.

Storm’s End lived up to its name, as did the Stormlands. When escaping from near the Kingswoods, they were met by scouts lurking in the trees in an attempt to pick off any survivors. The Silver Prince’s army, though lowered in number, were still plenty to eliminate the rest of Aerys’ men that were there. It was a disheartening battle though, and it was clear to Rhaegar they needed to hoof it to Storm’s End. His men couldn’t afford another attack. If another were to arise, it would most likely end him; something Rhaegar did not want to see come true.

Having been waiting for their lord’s arrival, the occupants of Storm’s End great house of Baratheon, leapt into action; taking the wounded to be cared for, feeding the hungry and directing men to where they can sleep.

Rhaegar was helped off of his horse and he watched the stable hands take his mare away to the stalls where the other horses were being tended to.

Even behind the fortress, the tall trees of the Stormlands towered over the walls and pierced the sky. Branches thick with plush pine needles sway and creak but do not bend to the will of the storm. They are of this land and are made of sturdier material. As far as the eye could see, a field of rich trees that offered protection.

In the distance, Rhaegar could hear Lord Robert Baratheon handing out orders to those who were just standing around.

When Rhaegar turns to look at his comrade instead he comes face to face with eyes like the storm above and the glossiest black hair he had ever seen.

Lyanna Stark.

Well, she was Lady Lyanna Baratheon now. Had been for quite some time.

The sight of her was still unnerving and nearly threw Rhaegar off of his weary feet.

She stood in front of him at a distance, her hands folded neatly in front of her as she acted the part of Lady of Storm’s End. Her northern cloak of warm furs enveloped her as they were suitable for this weather as well. Face pale with cheeks pink from the whipping winds, it’s like time hadn’t touched her. His Winter Rose. Yet the immediate love he had felt for her when they had first met did not flicker back to life. That wick was already spent and extinguished.

Her proud face is tilted up. “Your Grace. Welcome to Storm’s End.”

An uncanny feeling arose in him, unable to recall how he used to be around her. Parting his lips and unsure of what to say, Rhaegar is saved by Robert who sprints to his wife the moment he spots her.

“There’s my wife!” Face that had once been lined with exhaustion blooms and brightens when he scoops her up in his arms. Alarmed, Lyanna remains stiff in his arms; glancing at Rhaegar. Robert sets down Lyanna and cups her face, forcing her to return his loving gaze. “How I have missed you, dear Lyanna.”

“I’m glad you’re home safely.” A forced smile urges her mouth to turn up. It didn’t reach those gray pools of her eyes though, that was clear to Rhaegar. When Lyanna was truly happy, her eyes would scrunch up as she smiled until they were the shape of half moons. He had dreamed of her smiling moon eyes, branded into his mind. Hadn’t it been so long ago that he had been in love with this woman? Now he could hardly bring back the memory of that warm feeling she gave him.

“Your Grace. . .” A young man apprehensively approaches Rhaegar, his brown eyes quickly glancing at the scar on his face before moving to the dirt covered ground. He pursed his lips before starting again “You must be awfully tired. Please, allow me to show you to your chambers. There is a hot bath being prepared for you.”

Robert gently moves Lyanna to his side. “Yes, go and rest now. We’ll have time to strategize later. For now, catch your breath.”

He didn’t wish to rest. That was the last thing on his mind. He wanted to keep fighting. Aerys had dealt him a hard blow that he had to recover from quickly. Wars may not be won in a day, but there was still much he could do.

The closeness of Storm’s End to the Kingswood was another concerning factor in which Rhaegar couldn’t ignore. Even though he had been admiring the tall trees that surrounded them, a voice in his head also whispered how there could be enemies hiding and waiting like they had been on their journey.

Half tempted to burn it all down, Rhaegar knew that that was something Aerys would think of. He hated the moments when he found himself thinking the exact same way his father did.

Following his gaze, Robert walks over to him. Rain had made his mane of black hair smooth down close to his scalp with his dark beard catching beads of raindrops. Atop of the battlements, figures of men could be made out with bows at the ready and waiting.

“What are the defense protocols you have for invaders?” Rhaegar asks him. He couldn’t rest without being assured that there were proper defenses set in place.

Robert chuckles a little. “You forget that Storm’s End was able to destroy the Vulture King’s army not once, but twice.”

There was little Robert’s words could do to soothe Rhaegar. The young boy who had been waiting on the prince seemed unsure of what to do as Rhaegar sighed. “I will rest. Once I see Oberyn and Arthur.”

Seeing Arthur lifted a weight from Rhaegar’s chest. There next to Arthur’s bed was a dozing Oberyn, his shirt off to reveal the massive wrap stuck to his left side from where the wildfire had eaten away his skin and nearly making it to his core. His complexion was pale, black hair tied back into a low ponytail and out of his face. The castle’s maester was checking on Arthur’s stump of a leg for any signs of infection.

A squire announces Rhaegar’s presence quietly but it was enough to stir Oberyn, eyes fluttering open lazily. Grunting when repositioning himself, the maester scolds him for disturbing his wound. Oberyn waves off the graying man to sit up. “Your Grace.”

“How are you feeling?” Rhaegar pulls his eyes away from the maester wrapping Arthur’s stump. His prodding made Arthur grumble in his sleep. A feverish sleep that caused a light sheen of sweat that made his dark hair look limp.

“Better off than Ser Arthur.” Oberyn’s personal squire immediately rushes to his side with a flagon of what Rhaegar presumed was filled to the brim with rich wine that the Dornishman loved so much. “I was worried he wouldn’t survive the journey.”

He took the container from his squire and tossed his head back. It made Rhaegar’s own dry mouth parched but he didn’t care to remedy it. Instead guilt swelled in him at the sight of Arthur’s sick body.

The maester informed him quietly that while there was no infection, Arthur had developed a fever from traveling in such torrential weather. It weakened his body and the maester warned if his stump was not cleaned regularly, he would succumb to even more disease.

Outside the rain pelted the glass of the sickroom, offering a soothing sound that accompanied Arthur’s labored breathing.

“He will live though?”

Nodding, the maester moved aside for Rhaegar to inspect his comrade. “He will live. Although he may never be able to fight again. Not with his misshapen leg.”

Oberyn glared at the older man. “We’ll see about that. If I know Arthur, then he won’t let one missing leg slow him down. What do you maesters know. I will send a letter to my brother to request our own physician.”

Taking offense, the maester appeared to want to say something in retaliation until Rhaegar shot him a look. Oberyn was only saying such things out of frustration and weariness although Rhaegar didn’t doubt that come the morning he would send out his missive to Dorne. More than likely, the physician of Sunspear wouldn’t arrive before the week’s end. The journey from Dorne to the Stormlands had always proved to be a troublesome one.

Backing down with a grimace, the maester bows and leaves the room; having done all he could for the Sword of the Morning. Oberyn tells his squire to leave him be for the time being so that now only Oberyn and the Silver Prince were left.

“I’m surprised Ser Connington isn’t lingering behind you.” Oberyn scoffs and takes another sip from his flagon. He winces, slightly holding onto his side. “He’s like your red shadow.”

“Even Griff needs rest.” Rhaegar pulls over a chair and sits down. Even though he had been riding his horse day and night, this type of comfort was enough to send him to sleep. The most simple of comforts that Rhaegar didn’t know he missed. There was pressure building behind his eyes and unconsciously he grabs at his belt where his vial of milk of the poppy used to reside. He had forgotten that he had given the last of it to Arthur. A bit frustrated, he sighs and closes his eyes. “More than half of our men were decimated by the wildfire. I don’t know how we’re going to regroup.”

“Damn those spineless lords for betraying you. They deserved to have their heads severed.” grumbles Oberyn who glances again at Arthur. His face softens a bit. “He will fight again. I’ve known him since he was a young man. Arthur won’t let this stop him.”

“That is if the Mad King doesn’t blast Storm’s End with wildfire.”

“It was the closest fortress. We couldn’t afford to run back to Dorne. I don’t think our wounded men would have survived. Besides, Aerys couldn’t possibly have more wildfire ready.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not an easy task making wildfire. Procuring it can take weeks, if not months. Not to mention it’s incredibly dangerous too. Even making it proves to be volatile. The spells used for making wildfire are presently not as effectual as they once were, due to the extinction of the dragons and the effect this has on the strength of magic” He muses, eyes glazed and far off. “And there’s only so much you can store safely.”

Arthur’s groan distracts the men from their conversation. His brows furrow like he was in pain.

Rhaegar stands to grab a cool cloth and places it on Arthur’s burning forehead. It offered him relief and he relaxes back into his dreams. “The both of you are lucky that you’re alive.”

Oberyn chuckled, wincing once again due to the motion upsetting his side. Rhaegar noticed a small circle of blood blossoming against the white bandage. The color grew deeper as more blood spread. “It would take a lot more than wildfire to kill a Dornishman.”

A tired smile is slow on Rhaegar’s face. “How silly of me to think otherwise.”

Stretching out his arm, Oberyn hands him his flagon of wine; it felt like it was half empty. “Take this and get some rest. I will watch over Ser Arthur. Besides, I have much to write. I need to inform Doran of what has happened and our needs for ships. Even though wildfire can spread across water, like I said, it will take the Alchemist Guild some time to acquire more. We need to strike in that waiting period.”

“You’re already thinking ahead.”

“Of course. Dorne promised you the Iron Throne. Our word is better than any Lannister’s.” His dark eyes burn intensely. “Do not owe that man anymore than you need to.”

The domineering face of his former father-in-law surfaced in Rhaegar’s mind. Cold Tywin Lannister who didn’t shed a tear at the demise of his daughter. While he needed all the funds he could get, Oberyn was right. He would be no better than Aerys who nearly drained Casterly Rock’s funds when the two were on speaking terms. The crown was still in debt to Tywin Lannister. Rhaegar didn’t want to be in the same position when he became king. He didn’t want to rely on Casterly Rock like Aerys did. That was part of the downfall between Aerys and Tywin.

His fingers held the metal handle of the flagon, it was warm from Oberyn’s own fingers. He should sleep. The haunting sounds of war just kept replaying.

Instead of asking for the squire to lead him to his own chambers, Rhaegar asks the young man to show him where the rest of his wounded men were.

Lyanna’s gloved hand ghosts over the area of her abdomen. Covered heavily in her layers of clothes and her fur coat, she could still sense the life that was growing inside her. Her lips press tightly together recalling seeing Rhaegar after more than a year of no contact. His last letter to her had been right before the war had started. Right before her life had turned upside down. A small part of her had hoped that Rhaegar would save her from her fate. That above all odds that they would live the rest of their lives together. Hopes and dreams were fickle things. His last letter to her had broken her heart. He loved his wife, the late (y/n) Lannister and lamented on hurting her. She had found out about the affections he once held for Lyanna which were no more. Rhaegar officially broke ties with her the moment she opened the letter.

She never resented (y/n), a girl she had never met. By law, Rhaegar was her husband, even before they met Rhaegar had promised his hand to (y/n) at such a young age. He was never meant to be her’s. He had always been (y/n)’s. When the news of the girl’s passing reached Lyanna, she felt no triumph, only regret and sadness for Rhaegar. There was no way she could possibly imagine what he was going through; the grief and pain that plagued him was still evident even now. The glow that had once been around him was gone. Also gone was his long silver hair, chopped short due to when he saved Robert from an attack. Since then Robert had only praise to sing about Rhaegar. It was odd seeing the two get along so well. Not too long ago, Rhaegar had claimed his affection for her and a resentment toward Robert Baratheon. Situations certainly have changed. Especially for her family.

Poor Ned. Alone in Winterfell considering that their younger brother Benjen had volunteered to go to the Wall to join the Black Brothers. A noble venture, but that meant Ned didn’t have any of his original family there to mourn with him. Barely a month had passed since the cruel murder of Lord Rickard Stark and Brandon Stark. Their bodies had yet to be returned; or what was left of their remains.

Lyanna felt another wave of nausea hit her. Placing her back against the stone wall of the corridor she had been passing through, she takes a deep breath in an attempt to push down the sick feeling that was quickly rising up. Robert’s child had caused her to throw up several times already.

No one knew yet of the heir of Storm’s End that had now hijacked her body. There was so much going on already, a baby was the last thing she wanted. Lyanna was physically and emotionally tired. Seeing Rhaegar being chummy with her philandering husband had made everything worse.

The swirling sensation in her stomach subsided enough to where she could hold herself up once more.

She wandered over to a narrow window that viewed the courtyard below. Men were still scattered across the yard, milling about and preparing for upcoming battles. There was never any rest during a war. Even if they were here for respite, they had to prepare and gather more forces.

Ned had found time to write her a few weeks ago. He wanted more than anything to return to battle to support Rhaegar. The northern army could possibly save the campaign. Odds seemed bleak for Rhaegar at the moment unless he did manage to gather a sizable fleet. With Tywin Lannister as a benefactor it wouldn’t be too hard. The only issue was time. No one ever had enough time and putting together a naval power to siege Blackwater Bay would take a while. Ships had to be built and due to the wild storms that often destroyed nearby vessels, they couldn’t be built in the Stormlands. Ned didn’t have time for battle. He had to work on inserting himself as the new Lord of Winterfell. Plans had been made for Ned to wed Catelyn Tully, Brandon’s former betrothed. Before he even dared to go out and fight, he had to have an heir in case anything were to happen.

A familiar red head bobbed into view, stopping every so often to give orders. Jon Connington. The man never seemed to rest. He was considered Rhaegar’s right hand man and Jon took the role very seriously. Dedicating every waking hour to the Silver Prince.

Even feeling alone herself, she was happy that Rhaegar had good men around him who he could trust.

Scuffing of boots alerted Lyanna to someone approaching. She turns and there’s Rhaegar. The scar that ran like a river across his face darkened his already fraught expression.

“I thought you would be resting after your journey.” Lyanna says, hoping to at least get a few words out of him. Though his love for her was gone, she at least wanted to maintain some kind of relationship.

He looked exhausted, on the verge of falling over. “I’ll rest when I make sure my men are taken care of.” The angles of his cheeks were even more pronounced due to a drop in his weight. His black scaled armor nearly made him blend into the shadows of the hall.

His demeanor made her heart ache. So broken down with soot and blood caked to him.

Lyanna was prepared to insist that their maesters were working hard to ensure the health of those who had come in need of it, but her nausea seized her. One hand on the windowsill kept her stable as she leaned over and vomited. Clanking of armor followed as Rhaegar moved to hold back her long hair.

“Perhaps it is you who should be resting, my lady. Are you alright?”

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she shakes her head. “No. I’m not alright. I’m pregnant.”

She felt his hand halt in it’s soothing ministrations on her back. “That’s wonderful news, Lyanna. Congratulations. Have you told Robert yet?”

“I haven’t told anyone. You’re the first and I don’t want you sharing this.” Fixing her gaze on him, she holds down his lilac eyes with sternness.

Obviously confused, Rhaegar releases her cascading hair. “Why haven’t you told anyone? You're pregnant with Robert’s heir.”

Quite unladylike, Lyanna lets out a derisive snort. “Probably not his first. Oh don’t look so surprised. Even you know of Robert’s predilections. I knew marrying him would not prevent Robert from taking on lovers. No matter how much he claims he loves me, he loves women more. I can’t be happy about this. Not with my father and brother dead and Ned struggling in his new role. If anyone else finds out about my pregnancy, they will refuse to let me go to the north to be with Ned.”

Tears were in her eyes and blinding her, bottom lip shivering as Lyanna suppressed a sob. Her life was in ruin.

Compassion had not died in Rhaegar as he gently held one of her hands. “I’m so sorry, Lyanna. About your father and brother. About everything that has transpired. Keeping this child a secret is not the answer though.”

“I know.” Her voice wavered. “I know but I just can’t bring myself to tell anyone. There was so much I wanted to do. I wanted to support Ned and fight in your army. Now there will be even more reason to keep me cooped up here.”

Even in her ears, her woes sounded pathetic but Lyanna couldn’t help the way she felt. Rhaegar had lost both his wife and child and was in the middle of fighting his father for the Iron Throne. He had a lot more on his plate than she.

Still, Rhaegar soothed her by running his finger along her knuckles. For a moment there is a lull of silence before Rhaegar sighs. “If you inform Robert of your pregnancy, I promise to try and convince him to let you go to the north. It’ll be safer for you there anyway. The Stormlands are too close to King’s Landing, I’m sure he’ll let you go.”

She clung to Rhaegar’s promise and with a small nod, she dropped his hand. “Alright. Alright.”

Making sure she was truly okay to continue her walk, Rhaegar begins on his path once more before Lyanna calls out to him.

“I’m really sorry. . . About (y/n). . . a-and her baby. . .”

Such a sad smile Rhaegar had. “We were going to name him Jaehaerys. (y/n) loved that name.”

It was hard for Varys to rid his mind of the image of Brandon’s wide, fearful eyes. Neck veins bulged as he was being strangled while watching his father’s own demise. The reddening of his face as he lost air, clawing of his fingers around the rope that gripped his neck so tightly. Gods, he couldn’t get the smell of burning flesh out of his system either. The day of Brandon and Rickard’s murder stuck with Varys as a reminder of the danger he was in when playing the game of thrones. One wrong move and that could easily be him. With Aerys’ patience and sanity running thin, he walked on a razor’s edge. He was unpredictable and an unpredictable king was a terrifying thing. Through his birds, Varys knew that the people of King’s Landing were talking in hushed tones; worried about the extreme use of wildfire against Rhaegar’s army. Such a reckless and fickle element, the wildfire could have easily spread to the capital and killed everyone. It was thanks to Rhaegar’s actions that the spread of the green flames had stopped in it’s tracks. That wouldn’t do for Aerys. If he found out about the positive talk on his turncloak son, no doubt the king would gather those individuals and kill them. Well, his people were already dying by the dozens. Many were starving, he had been witness to it whenever he dared to go outside. The gates to the Red Keep were now lined with the poor and starving, screaming at anyone who got near them. The use of wildfire had damaged the roads and lands that led to King’s Landing. Supplies could not be delivered to them nor any goods that the capital depended on. Food from the bountiful Reach dwindled in a blink of an eye. Even those of a higher pedigree were experiencing difficulties and often went to the king’s small council to plead for more food.

Aerys turned a deaf ear to the cries of his people, instead becoming obsessed with striking down his first born son; the son which Rhaella had struggled to conceive after so many miscarriages and stillborns.

The wildfire assault had not been approved by the small council. Actually, Aerys worked behind their backs to make sure that his plans would be successful. An outraged Grand Maester Pycelle had accosted Aerys on such a terrible act and it nearly cost him his head. He considered wildfire a damning element concocted by those who were close to the Stranger as arts such as those could only be obtained in a dark manner.

There was nothing that could be said to the king that would make him think otherwise. He believed the wildfire would help cleanse the land. An even more morbid plot that Aerys had told them about was the plan to set all of King’s Landing aflame if Rhaegar ever got to the gates. All of the members of the small council were growing more concerned by the second. There was no reasoning with King Aerys. Even looking into his eyes one would learn that his mind wasn’t all there. Many days, Aerys refused to come down from the Iron Throne, even if he was receiving many cuts from the old blades it was composed of. He would not surrender the throne to anyone. Not even for a second.

He was employing Varys’ skill more and more these days. Especially in regards to the missing knight Ser Barristan Selmy who had up and vanished. Whispers around the castle laid claim that it was Selmy who may have kidnapped the king’s youngest children.

Of course Varys knew better. In fact it was he who had orchestrated the kidnapping of the Targaryen siblings. Varys knew that many people thought him cold and conniving, but it was far from the truth. For a long time, he had worried about the young Viserys and infant Daenerys. Even before Rhaella’s passing, Varys worried about what Aerys had planned for his family on Dragonstone. Not wanting to underestimate the king’s madness, Varys thought it best to send the children away. He took it upon himself to go to Dragonstone and enlist the help of Ser Willem Darry who was all too ready to take the task. The older knight had voiced his own worries as well and had made a promise to the dying Rhaella that he would protect her children even if it meant going against Aerys. That task had been an easy one.

However, he hadn’t heard anything of Ser Selmy. The last news he received from his many little birds around the world was that Selmy had indeed left Volantis and was on a ship back to Westeros. That had been two weeks ago and no one had any clue where he was now. No mice or birds had seen Selmy in a while.

And how would he get into contact with Rhaegar now that their go-between had been murdered. Brandon Stark had been overly brave in making himself the messenger between the Spider and the Silver Prince. He didn’t know the status of Rhaegar’s army and if it still held numbers. Scouts that had been placed in the Kingswoods had reported that his men were seen fleeing in the direction of the Stormlands. Other than that, the information was mum.

He had been speaking with one of his little birds when a knight approached him, causing the young child to flee immediately.

“The king wants to see you.”

Varys never liked hearing that. It meant having to sit through the king’s ramblings and attempt to make sense of it. Continuing to pretend to serve him was wearing down on him. He must see his plans through, to the very end. Much like another foreigner he had encountered.

Young Thalina had known what her duty was to the realm and even knowing her fate was death, she did what she had to do with a gentle smile on her face. Varys never knew how much he would look up to the girl.

She had more courage than Varys could ever have. For he still feared his own death. Every time he came face to face with Aerys, he worried that that would be the last breath he took.

Even making his way to the Great Hall, beads of sweat began to collect on the back of his neck, staining the satin collar around his neck. Aerys had already killed a handful of his most loyal vassals. His fears weren’t irrational. The other members of the small council also worried when their time would come.

Despite the Great Hall having large windows that allowed the sun’s rays to illuminate the hall, the vicinity around the Iron Throne was suspended in a dark gloom that threatened to reach out to the rest of the hall. Atop of the mountain of melded swords was Aerys. His body leaned forward in an attempt to keep the sharp tips of the swords from biting into his skin. From where he stood, Varys could see the slight twitching of the king’s bony hands. His golden crown was loose on his head, the dragons sculpted into it were like a sad reminder of the glory that the Targaryens once possessed.

What alarmed Varys was the absence of the Kingsguard. All who stood sentry was Gerold Hightower.

Currently one of the pyromancers held an audience with the king. The situation was already fraught when Varys arrived. “Y-Your Grace. . . Please, we can make the amount of wildfire you ask for but it will take us time.”

“We don’t have time!” Aerys spat nearly rising from his seat. “I want it done by the week’s end!”

Trembling slightly, the pyromancer shook his head knowing that if he did not please the king’s temper that his head could be on the chopping block. “Y-Yes Your Grace. . .”

“Get him out of here. He’s got work to do along with the other mages in the Alchemist Guild.” With stern, milky eyes, Aerys instructs Ser Gerold to escort the poor pyromancer out of the Great Hall while Varys takes his place in front of the Iron Throne. Not wasting time on pleasantries, Aerys asks “What news do you have on Barristan Selmy?”

Varys wished he had that knowledge just for himself. Alas, there was nothing to report on; not something Aerys wanted to hear. His tempers were already short. Varys had to make sure to spend as little time as he could there. “I regret to inform Your Grace that there has been no sign of Barristan Selmy. We can only hope that he shows up soon or we hear news of his death.”

The Mad King snarls. “It seems even my Spider is incompetent. A knight of the Kingsguard does not just up and vanish overnight! Especially not one like Selmy. And my children?”

Luckily Varys had come up with a lie that would be good enough to satisfy Aerys at least for the time being. “One of my informants in Pentos has sighted two young children with silver hair. They match the description of Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys.”

“Anything on who took them? Don’t think I haven’t heard what people are saying. Some speculate that Selmy took them. Is there any merit to the rumor?”

Varys doubted if Selmy did return to King’s Landing that he would receive a warm welcome. True that he lied to Aerys about the reason for him being gone, nothing mattered now. Not with the king’s sanity spiraling at a dangerous level.

“It could not be determined, Your Grace. But we have a location and I have my mice keeping tabs until they have a culprit.”

“I want to send someone out to Pentos to have a look themselves.” seethes Aerys, drilling his glare at the eunuch. “And I want you to find a competent assassin to get rid of Rhaegar.”

Chancing eye contact with the Mad King, Varys pressed his lips together. “I will talk it over with the small council-”

“No. I don’t want you telling any of those fools. I want a finish to this damn war. That brat. . . I don’t want to waste anymore effort on him. I want this ended. Do you hear me, Varys?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

He leans forward a few more inches. "Don't fail me Varys. Otherwise you will meet the same fate as Rickard Stark and his boy."

“Yes, Your Grace.” He felt like a damn parrot but what else could he do if he wanted to keep his head for a little bit longer?

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hauntedbys · 5 months ago

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melissa barrera, 33, cis woman, she/her 𐫱 › hey, isn’t that josefina solano ? i’ve heard that they’ve lived in bearhold for their whole life. rumor has it that they can be rather apprehensive and aloof, but hey, that’s just in their nature as a watcher. they totally make up for it by being protective and intuitive. if you’re looking for them, you can probably find them at their work as an archivist at great bear library.

ONE.

full name: josefina maria solano. nicknames: jo ( preferred ), jose, josie ( family nickname ). age: thirty three. gender + pronouns: cis woman + she/her. orientation: bisexual. date of birth: july 15th. originally from: bearhold, washington. spoken languages: spanish ( first language ), english, portuguese, and a handful of latin. species: watcher. occupation: archivist at great bear library.

TWO.

dominant hand: right. moral alignment: chaotic good. horoscope: cancer sun, virgo moon, scorpio rising. virtues: protective, intuitive, loyal, ambitious & empathetic. vices: apprehensive, aloof, obstinate, selfish & unforgiving. favorite hobbies: reading, writing, baking, hiking & keeping herself busy. education: graduated undergrad with a degree in history ( while quietly minoring in occult studies ) from makah community college.

THREE.

parents: javier solano, father ( deceased ) & daniela solano, mother ( deceased ). siblings: tbd solano, sister **wanted plot. birth order: oldest. relationship status: divorced. children: none. pets: has an ever growing army of guinea pigs which currently include ginger, petunia, maggie & rosie. other relations: tbd **would love an uncle/aunt. past relations: samantha barton, ex wife.

FOUR.

josefina comes from a long family line of watchers, the solano family, who have resided in bearhold for the past century. they were more well known when josefina was a kid, as most of her family has passed and she is one of the last remaining members in town. she has known about the family history since as long as she can remember and the same can be said for when she wanted to become a watcher. jo grew up close to her family and wanted to follow in their footsteps, an interest in the supernatural leading the way.

after graduating from community school, jo enrolled in makah community college where she majored in history and minored in occult studies. she had originally anticipated to leave bearhold for college but the same year jo graduated high school, her mother was diagnosed with cancer. though grateful to have spent the last months by her side, an invisible string wouldn't let jo leave bearhold - and aside from the occasional vacation as a kid, she hasn't left town much either.

became engaged to her girlfriend junior year of college after a few years of dating. they had been through so much together that jo believed nothing could ever separate them. once the two of them graduated, they had a small wedding that fall. everything was so perfect that it didn't seem real - and up until a certain point, it was. jo losing her mother was hard but losing her father out of the blue only a couple months after getting married absolutely devastated her.

the biggest challenge became inheriting her father's duty as a watcher before she even had a chance to know what to do. her name was emily and though jo had known her for years, the thought of stepping into her father's shoes was terrifying. to make matters worse, javier, jo's father, had died of suspicious circumstances and emily only trusted jo. with no other option, jo accepted her duty and dove in head first, intent on making her father proud. to no one's surprise, josefina excelled and flourished as a watcher, being a helpful source of information and advice. she works well under pressure and even participated hands on in a lot of emily's training with combat skills.

samantha could only ignore the mornings where she would wake up to an empty bed for so long. jo tried to tell her as much as she could but when it came to details, the supernatural was always kept behind closed lips. patience grew thin quickly and within a few months time, divorce papers were being filed. every bit of sadness was channeled into taking care of emily but it was realized too late that jo could not take care of anyone without first taking care of herself. she worked herself to the bone afterwards, barely sleeping or eating. one night... she missed one patrol night and emily was gone, just like that. people kept vanishing around her and jo was never the same, beginning to isolate herself from deeper connections while hiding amongst books in the library.

has essentially just been going through the motions for the past decade. part of her wants to get another slayer, knowing she could be valuable, but jo doesn't want to be the cause of someone else's demise. instead she just offers help to slayers/anyone with good intentions without getting too involved. besides, she sees herself as #fragile now and doesn't know if she could handle caring for someone in that way again ! traumatized loner nerd who is haunted by her past and by those she couldn't/can't save </3

wanted plot ideas: josefina's sister, maybe an aunt/uncle, besties, exes/ex friends, people she regularly gives information/helps out, family friends, emily's family, the supernatural person who murdered jo's dad, honestly anything just pls plot w me <3

#bear.intro #cancer tw #death tw #murder tw #Finally. i am done

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ahmedalnabih21 · 3 months ago

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📢🚨My name is Ahmed Alnabih. I am 33 years old, married, and part of a large family with three brothers and four sisters. We once lived in Gaza, where I grew up and built my life. But today, my family and I are living in a tent, in unimaginable conditions—surrounded by mud, soaked from the rain, and overwhelmed by uncertainty.🥹

The Israeli army ordered us to evacuate our home in Gaza. With heavy hearts, we fled south, taking only what little we could carry. Not long after, we received the devastating news that our house—our home—was completely destroyed. Everything I had worked for, everything that held the memories of my family, was reduced to rubble.☹️

Now, we live in a tent, struggling to stay dry, to stay warm. The rain beats down on us as the ground turns to mud beneath our feet. The cold seeps into our bones at night, and hope feels more distant with each passing day.😭

I never thought I would find myself in this situation, forced to rely on the kindness of strangers to survive. But here I am, asking for help, not just for myself but for my family, who have lost everything. I want to rebuild a safe home for my wife, my brothers, and my sisters. I want to give them a future, something to hold onto when everything else has been taken away.🥹

Please, if you can, donate. Every little bit brings us closer to rebuilding what we have lost and giving my family a sense of safety and dignity once more.🙏❤️

Here is love and war!

Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #186 )🇵🇸

Campaign link:⬇️🔗

@fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain @just-browsings-world @mothblogging @aleciosun @serica @fluoresensitivearchived @khizuo @schoolhatergirl @timogsilangan @appsa @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada @palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @feluka-blog-blog @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @visenyasdragon @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @brutalia @raelyn-dreams @theropoda @tamarr @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @skatezophrenic @awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @nabulsi27 @cluelessboy @neptunerings @aerithkinfaker

#free palestine #stanley pines #bill cipher #gravity falls #batman

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toxifoxx · 2 months ago

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My dear friend, 🌹

Welcome, I hope you are well. 🙏

I am writing to kindly ask for your support in reblogging my pinned post on my page��🙏.

My name is Ahmed Al-Nabih from Gaza I am married, and my wife is pregnant and suffering from severe hunger. I may lose my baby at any moment.My family consists of four people and my father died My mother suffers from chronic diseases, and because the medicine ran out, her health condition has deteriorated greatly

The situation is very dangerous in Gaza

After the occupation fired shells and fire at our house, and we then saw death with our own eyes, we were displaced from the house and then to 5 places, the last of which was in the tents in which we currently live in tragic and complicated conditions.🥲

Our dreams have been lost, our house has been destroyed, and I watch my mother lose her life due to the lack of medicine, without me being able to do anything for her here. Life is difficult in the tents, and the drinking water is polluted.

In short, there are no minimum necessities for human life here. The situation is catastrophic and devastates humanity. Famine is intensifying, poverty is intensifying, goods are running out, and the danger of bombing is all around us.😟

I appeal to you and seek your help to share our story and our suffering through your pages, and to provide us with support and concern.🙏

Thank you very much.

Ahmed Al-Nabih from Gaza

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #186 )🇵🇸🇵🇸

Link campaign: https://gofund.me/835f3ddc

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noxaeternaetc · 6 months ago

Text

"What do I dream about? In the beginning I wanted that everything would be over. But now, to be honest, the idea of returning to civilian life frightens me. I already don't understand people anymore. Of course the war must be over some day. But how to continue living? That's a big question. If possible that's even scarier than war.

You lose yourself in this war. You don't know who you are anymore, what family you have, how your kids grow up. You can't get along well with your wife, you don't know about her problems because she doesn't want to tell you about them. And I don't want to tell her about mine. My daughter is 5 years old. When I joined the army she was 2,5. So I haven't seen her in 2,5 years. I don't know how she has grown up, I know nothing about her. That's bad.

You lose friends, because however much you want it, you cannot have friends here. You cannot get attached to someone because it makes it difficult to lose that person. All these concepts with which I lived for 33 years I washed away.

Tomorrow someone will die and I will sleep in peace. I will know it was a man, that I knew him, I commanded him, I taught him, gave him some orders and he died. It's not normal that this is happening and you don't react in any way.

There's a psychologist who visits us to talk. The problem is most psychologists are civilians. Civilians cannot fully understand the problems of soldiers because they haven't been in our environment. They ask questions like 'how do you keep yourself warm at the front.' We don't. No one keeps themselves warm because it would betray your position. Fire and smoke rise up in the air."

Jimmy (36), commander of an infantry division in the Ukrainian army, NRC newspaper, August 2, 2024.

#rogue translation #russo ukrainian war #trauma

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daniclaytcn · 2 years ago

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neethu! as a the rookie fan who is on the edge about watching 911 (mainly bc i am a scorned fan of old ryan murphy shows and have trust issues), i pledge for you to sell me on 911/buddie because i truly need a new summer binge watch that won’t suck my energy dry 🥲

omg becca i can promise you that i'll make it my personal mission to get you into 911 asfdkdld 😌 so, here's why you should absolutely binge 911, coming from a completely unbiased, objective perspective, of course 😌😌

an amazing ensemble cast with really, really talented actors

a group of characters who slowly come together to find their family in each other and they love each other so so much. also the very first episode starts off with the hilariously ironic line—"this is not a family." to really hammer in the famous last words of it all :) now let's get into the characters.

howard "chimney" han — amazing paramedic, manages to be the funniest character on the show while having deep-rooted abandonment issues and trauma, is probably immortal because he has survived things that should have killed any other person

bobby nash — Dad™. the daddest of all dads. best redemption arc ever; has a beautiful journey of realizing that he wants to live. he was born to be a husband and a father :) amateur detective. looks like the sensible one, but he can be just as dumb as the rest. he loves his wife <33

hen wilson — probably the smartest character on the show, and knows everything about everything. she's married to a rocket scientist :)) she is an incredible firefigher paramedic, best friends with chimney (they're platonic soulmates fr) and she looks like she holds the braincell but she will join in on the shenanigans with the rest of the characters in a heartbeat (see: season 6 where she went dumpster diving with chimney to look for a lost ring).

evan buckley — the little brother of the group. he's an ass in the beginning but he gets better i promise. himbo with a heart of gold, he loves kids. he uses recklessness as a means of coping with his deep-rooted childhood trauma. nearly dies every single season. he looks at bobby as a surrogate father. he loves his sister so much. he's in love with his best friend but shhh he's still figuring that out. he loves his best friend's child like his own :)

maddie buckley — give her a break™ she's been through SO much, but came out kind and compassionate and stronger than ever. she's a 911 dispatcher and she's amazing at it. she loves her little brother and basically raised him when they were kids. she's an amazing mom, even if it takes her a while to accept that, and she loves chimney han with all her heart.

athena grant — angela basset does an amazing job with her character; she has some of the best emotional and action moments on the show. she's a cop, unfortunately :( she's best friends with hen, she's a great mom to her two kids and has a really compelling friendship with her ex-husband. she is definitely the one who holds the braincell while everyone else gets up to their dumb shenanigans.

eddie diaz — the love of my life he's an ex-army medic, now a firefighter and above all, a father. he loves his son, christopher, so much. he has also nearly died on multiple occasions, and in season 5, has one of the most beautiful arcs i've ever seen working through his trauma. he had an extremely complex relationship with his wife, shannon. he's come so far in terms of character development. and he's deeply in love with his best friend but by god he will not admit it :)

and as for the other reasons why you should binge the show? the emergencies are absolutely insane and entertainingly unrealistic (there was a tsunami in los angeles). the show knows how to intermix comedy and tragedy in a way that will give you whiplash and have you sobbing. it deals with some very adult, realistic conflicts. it loves to emphasize on the innate goodness of human nature. none of the characters are perfect and have all fucked up badly at some point, but they keep trying. it's a show about second chances :)

OH and since you asked about buddie, well. if you like: a) co-workers who started off disliking each other falling into a deep friendship b) two characters who are partners in every sense of the word, who practically share the same mind c) a ship that has multiple break-up scenes without even getting together d) two characters who are practically co-parenting a child but can't see it e) two characters who go absolutely berserk when the other is in danger f) two characters who act more married than most married couples — then buddie is the ship for you! and honestly, if you like chenford, then you will definitely like buddie sjdkdkd there's a reason i've done at least 4-5 gifsets paralleling them

anyway, this is my official pitch! if you ever actually decide to watch the show, my humble request is that you let me know what you think afterwards 😌

come talk to me!

#this got a little out of hand ajsjjd #neethu answers #timlucys

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towerartt · 7 months ago

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For character thing - First Timothy

1. How I feel about this character

I love him dearly. Hateeee seeing him happy it ruins my day. I need him miserable and bitter forever.

2. All the people I ship romantically with this character

Jack and that's about it <33

3. My non-romantic OTP for this character

Tim x Nisha‼️ They are neither romantic nor platonic but a third, secret thing (tied together by the memory of their problematic dead wife)

4. My unpopular opinion about this character

He has the moral backbone of a jelly donut. He never sticks to his guns. He will tell you whatever he thinks you want to hear. Jack is talking about his plans of bombing Pandora? Masterful gambit, sir. Vault hunters are questioning him? Time to yap about how much he hates Jack, omgg that guy was literally the worst! Does he have any opinions on anything? Sure he does. For example, he is not cool with killing people. Unless it is him doing the killing, in which case it is 100% justified self-defense. It's actually crazy how he never did anything wrong in his entire life.

5. One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

Maybe not in canon since this rewrites his character heavily, but I think this could be really interesting to explore in a fic!

I wish he was rewarded for doing a good job on Elpis the same way Nisha and Wilhelm were. He could have been the official face of the doppelganger program...

After Jack takes over Hyperion, he has a total of three trusted people: Nisha, Wilhelm, and Timothy. He awards the first two with important positions to gain better control over the company and Pandora. Why wouldn’t he make good use of Lawrence as well? “Suspicious princes often promote the last of mankind, from a vain persuasion, that those who have no dependence, except on their favor, will have no attachment, except to the person of their benefactor.” (Edward Gibbon, The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire) Jack is a suspicious prince, and Timothy is fully dependent on his favor. He is the man Jack should want to promote! Lawrence could have been a puppet general of the Doppelganger army <33

This would also complicate his character. He hates being Jack's doppelganger. He is advertising the program to lost, gullible men. He hates his boss. He lives in great comforts on his payroll. He hates himself. Maybe, standing next to Jack, he sometimes fantasises of saying his real name and letting the bomb in his face take out them both. He does not hate himself enough to go through with it. In canon, he isn’t a spineless lackey; he is just some unfortunate guy. But he could be a spineless lackey! Let him be a spineless lackey!

And also he and Jack should have kissed ☝ I think

#ask #SHINA!! MY DEAR FRIEND! HI! ^-^#☀️

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joelsfavouritegirl · 9 months ago

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Fuuuuck i love pre-outbreak joel so much 😭 ik this man is hot at any age but there's just something about pre-outbreak joel that gets me. Ik he was probably stressed all the time from work and taking care of Sarah but I feel like before the outbreak he was probably a really sweet guy. Ugh I wish more people wrote about him. I love reading stuff where reader gets with joel when sarah is still young and then they have ellie 🥺 or where reader is sarah and ellie's birth mom

ohmygod ik i feel you 💯 personally i imagine joel as the upbeat and funny kid/teen, then when sarah came along and he got married it was strange and new and really early to have a family but they still made it work y’know. the stress was there but he had his family and wife to lean on when it got tough. however when his wife left i think that that’s when he closed himself off. he probably still had his family (although tommy went to the army for a while right?) but other than that he had a little girl to take care of and a full time job to work at too. i’m guessing that, after his wife, he never had any serious relationship, he primarily didn’t want to potentially hurt sarah + didn’t want to go through that kind of heartbreak again. so yeah i definitely think that pre-outbreak!joel has it rough😭

and i get you on a spiritual level, i’m such a whore for the au’s where reader is sarah and ellie’s mum🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 though i haven’t been able to find any fics about it so i js crate my own au on janitor.ai😭 it’s the only place joel can rly live the life he deserves; yeah work is fuckin annoying but he has his three girls to come home to and he wouldn’t ask for anything more<33 tysm for the submission!!

fic idea?????

#elenas asks

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ofmythsandfables · 2 years ago

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V.lad D.racula

starter call | open starters | aesthetics | headcanons | photos

VERSES

VLAD MUSAT (Main/Modern Verse, Aged 32 ; FC: Luke Evans)

Vlad is currently just under 600 years old, and a CEO of his own restoration company, ReVamp Restorations, INC. The company restores old landmarks, buildings and homes, and is expanded globally. He lives in London, England, and has a house in his homeland of Romania which he visits on holiday. Vlad changed his last name to his mother’s maiden name so he would not be recognized. He isn’t usually around others outside of his job, and his quiet time consists of more work due to his need to constantly be occupied.

FROM PRINCE TO BEAST (After the war with Mehmed II)

No longer the voivode for Wallachia, Vlad has hidden away high in the Carpathian Mountains, dwelling in an abandoned and long forgotten castle. Weary travelers or people who have gotten lost on their journeys sought shelter in the castle and Vlad happily took them in, but for a price: that they would serve him forever. They’ve agreed, and happily serve him regardless of knowing what he is and who he once was. His servants are his only real company and Vlad has looked to them as an almost family to him.

HE WHO STILL REIGNS (After the war with Mehmed II, Alternate Ending)

Vlad has returned after fighting and defeating Mehmed, taking his place on the throne once more. Only this time, he is a vampire. He now rules over the lands Mehmed once did, except he is not known as Sultan, he remains Prince. His dwellings are still within Wallachia which is newly rebuilt, his army becomes vast and stronger than any other army around, and though weary of others, he still rules as he once did. His heart is heavy with the loss of his wife, and the duty of raising their son on his own. But he does everything and anything for Ingeras so he doesn’t have to suffer anymore than he already has.

PRINCE OF WALLACHIA (Pre war with Mehmed II)

Vlad is Voivode to Wallachia, and is reigning peacefully. His rulings are fair and his people adore him. He is not married, and not with any children. Vlad’s adviser pushes him to marry someone already to give him an heir, but it is not something Vlad is in a rush for even though he wishes to have a family of his own someday. Vlad is always holding Council with his noblemen or working on kingly duties, but one can find him constantly with his nose in a book, learning something new and enticing.

*Alternate Version* ; Vlad is Prince, and ruling with Mirena. This takes place a year before the war with Mehmed.

THE COUNT (1880 - early 1900s ; very loosely based on Bram Stoker’s version)

London’s new resident is a centuries old vampire, having just bought into real estate. Vlad D.racula leads a quiet life, not bothering anyone as he tries to make his life somewhat normal. He prays upon people, though not savagely, and drinks only enough for him to be satisfied. Afterwards, he heals them with his own blood and wipes away their memory of anything that had transpired between them.

HUMAN (Modern day, Aged 33)

Vlad Dragan was raised in Romania along with his three brothers on a vast farm. Having ambitions far bigger than the life he was meant to have, Vlad made sure he excelled in school before getting a scholarship for Oxford in London. There, he studied History and Archaeology, and became an archaeologist. His job has taken him all over the world, but his home base remains London, and he works as both an Archaeology professor in Oxford as well as studying artifacts in England’s Natural History Museum.

WIZARDING WORLD (Taking place throughout the HP series, Timeline varies)

A vampire as a professor? Vlad is! Vlad works at Hogwarts as a History of Magic professor. He doesn’t socialize too much with others outside of when classes are in session, but he does attend every school event and never misses a meeting. He is also a Hufflepuff (I personally think he’s a hybrid of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor…so Gryffinpuff. But to be technical, Hufflepuff).

VAMPIRE KING (Tolkien semi-loosely based, takes place during ‘The Hobbit’ and on; also, using Welsh as the language for Men in my verse since there are hardly any translations in Adunaic, and Welsh is a pretty awesome language so try not to correct me on this for all you super Tolkien canon fanatics)

Vlad Alastor is Edain, from the House of Marach during the First Age. He lived in Dor-lomin, part of Hithlum, and ruled as King for many prosperous yet tough years. But Morgoth struck war upon the lands, and Vlad knew his army wouldn’t be enough to win the war. He sought help from a dark, magical being living in the mountains that turned him into a fampyr (my own derivation from the Welsh spelling for vampire) for a hefty price of his soul once the time came. As Nírnaeth Arnoediad occurred, most of Vlad’s army was defeated but he himself was able to defeat the enemy, driving away the evil forces. But due to Dor-lomin crumbling away from the war, and more evil forces eventually ascending upon the country, Vlad was overthrown as king and banished from the lands he grew up on and ruled. Having an idea, he faked his death, and Vlad ran as far away as he could. Many, many years had passed, and by the time of the Third Age, Vlad is king in Rhun, his residence lay beyond the Sea of Rhun. { Rhun is under Welsh/Celtic influences in my version to better fit how I have Vlad so please don't be that person and point out that I've got Rhun wrong or I can't have Vlad ruling Rhun or something along those lines. If you don't like it, don't interact with this verse. }

Voivode D.racula (Br.idgerton AU)

Born into a long line of nobility over in Romania, Vlad has become the newest Voivode of Wallachia. Having connections to the Queen herself through imports and friendship, Vlad frequents England often and enjoys his time there. He was once married but has since lost his love in childbirth, along with their newborn son. Vlad has yet to find another, although he hasn't been searching. His love for his deceased wife still has a hold on his heart. But can there possibly be another out there to show the voivode how to open his heart to loving yet again?

ABILITIES AND WEAKNESSES

+ IMPORTANT +

Vlad is part of a bloodline he solely shares with his superior, Caligula: the vampire who turned him, due to having no choice but to dwell in a cave for eons until he was able to pass on his powers to Vlad and set himself free. Therefore, his abilities and weaknesses are different from any other bloodline. His transformation is different, as well as the way he turns others, which never happens unless it happens in a thread.

ABILITIES

Shapeshifts into bats / Manipulates bats at his will / Super strength and speed / Heightened sight, smell and hearing / Weather manipulation (to an extent) / Mind manipulation (to an extent) / Healing - Very small increments of his blood, when taken via mouth, can heal a person. There is no guarentee that it can revive a person if they are dying.

WEAKNESSES

Silver / Wooden and silver stakes (both fatal if directly piercing his heart) / Direct sunlight

OTHER INFORMATION

Vlad sleeps, but only for a few hours. He needs to be in a completely dark room in order to sleep soundly, or else he’ll be quite irritable. Vlad is able to walk during the day while using his weather manipulation powers to cover up the sun’s harmful rays with clouds. Holy objects do not harm Vlad. It isn’t specified why in the film, but for RP purposes, it’s due to him being so in-tuned with his religion even when he was turned that his God saw the good in him regardless of the fact he was a now a monster (his religion during the time was and remains to be Orthodox). Vlad can eat food but chooses not to usually. The taste of food has not faded for him even though he is a vampire. He does not crave food, nor does he need to live off it, therefore he doesn’t really eat anything unless it’s to keep up appearences. Vlad lives off of animal blood mainly, but knows a guy that slips him blood bags from a blood bank to keep in the house.

#{ vlad / verses }

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epickiya722 · 2 months ago

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My dear friend, 🌹

Welcome, I hope you are well. 🙏

I am writing to kindly ask for your support in reblogging my pinned post on my page❤🙏.

My name is Ahmed Al-Nabih from Gaza I am married, and my wife is pregnant and suffering from severe hunger. I may lose my baby at any moment😭.My family consists of four people and my father died My mother suffers from chronic diseases, and because the medicine ran out, her health condition has deteriorated greatly

The situation is very dangerous in Gaza

I appeal to you and seek your help to share our story and our suffering through your pages, and to provide us with support and concern.🙏

Thank you very much.

Ahmed Al-Nabih from Gaza

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #186 )🇵🇸🇵🇸

Link campaign: https://gofund.me/835f3ddc

#important

0 notes

yoohyeon · 2 months ago

Note

My dear friend, 🌹

Welcome, I hope you are well. 🙏

I am writing to kindly ask for your support in reblogging my pinned post on my page❤🙏.

The situation is very dangerous in Gaza

I appeal to you and seek your help to share our story and our suffering through your pages, and to provide us with support and concern.🙏

Thank you very much.

Ahmed Al-Nabih from Gaza

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #186 )🇵🇸🇵🇸

Link campaign: https://gofund.me/835f3ddc

0 notes

lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 2 years ago

Text

From the Ashes Pt.5

Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader

Warnings: battle, canon character death, Rhaegar POV

Words: 2695

Summary: Rhaegar and Robert Baratheon fight side by side

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42

Book Two of Heir of Ash and Fire

Book One of Heir of Ash and Fire

“I’m sorry, Your Grace. . . Your mother has died. . .”

His ears had become numb. White noise was all he heard, sweeping him up just as it did when the news of (y/n) had been brought to him not too long ago. He was forced to lose another important person in his life.

A deep pain made its home in Rhaegar’s chest as he reached out for something to steady him. Jon Connington had been right beside him, catching him by the arm.

Rhaegar closed his eyes, trying to collect himself. It wouldn’t do for his men to see him in this state. “What of the baby?”

The messenger who was holding onto the note that had been delivered by raven, clutches it tightly. “She lives.”

Hope. A small mustard seed of hope, but hope nonetheless. “A girl? I have a sister?”

“Yes. Rhaella named her before she passed from this world. Your sister’s name is Daenerys.”

Letting out a shaky breath, Rhaegar smiled. “Daenerys.”

Jon took it upon himself to ask the next few questions. “Is she still on Dragonstone?”

The messenger nods. “Yes Ser.”

“Does Aerys yet know of the child’s birth?”

That made the young boy paused, looking from the silver haired Rhaegar to the fiery locks of Jon. He lowers his eyes, fearing both of the great men’s gazes. “Yes. . . He has instructed that no one be allowed to dock on Dragonstone and that the young Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys be kept there until further notice.”

Rhaegar clenches his jaw. “Glad to know my father hasn’t changed a bit. And I bet he didn’t grieve the loss of his wife?”

“That I do not know, Your Grace. It was risky enough sending along the message to you.”

He already knew that Aerys didn’t grieve the death of Rhaella. Neither of them had loved the other. It wouldn’t be such a devastating blow to Aerys as it had been to Rhaegar losing (y/n).

“It’s probably best for them to stay on Dragonstone. Safer. As long as Aerys doesn’t try and bring them to King’s Landing. They should be fine.” Rhaegar whispered more so to himself. No one could hurt his younger siblings there on the remote island. He just regretted that they were by themselves. No mother or father, not even their big brother, there to guide them. They were alone, far from any family.

Dismissing the messenger, Rhaegar sighs and sits down at his small table. Sprawled out across the wood surface was his battle plan. A map of all of Westeros with small pieces made of stone, those that were painted red were symbolic of his father’s army, the small stone dragon pieces that were white were for Rhaegar’s troops. They were scattered all throughout the map, many of the red pieces being clustered near King’s Landing and along the Kingsroad. One positive thing that Aerys actually had going for him was his paranoia. It made him act fast in setting up clusters of troops near King’s Landing and any other major road that led to it which in turn proved to make the march more difficult for Rhaegar and his men. Robert Baratheon wasn’t one to be discouraged as he boasted that he would tear down each and everyone of the men that were sent their way. Oberyn liked the storm lord’s enthusiasm as he was ready for the battles to come. Jon, Rhaegar and Arthur were of a more cautious constitution.

“I’m sorry to hear about Queen Rhaella.” Arthur whispered, taking the opposite seat. “She was a good woman.”

“Good women hardly make it in this world.” Commented Jon who was pouring himself a generous glass of wine.

“It seems like I never have time to mourn.” Rhaegar reclines, staring at the red and white that was on the table. “I’ll weep for her when the war is won. . . Are you sure these were all the troops that were planted along the Kingsroad?”

Swirling the dark liquid around, Jon nods. “According to the Spider. Who knows if we can truly trust him though.”

“We can’t. We just have to gamble that he’s an ally.” Arthur replied, playing with an extra white dragon. His fingers rolled around the tiny details, running along the spine that possessed small bumps and along the wings that were curled in.

Rhaegar heaves out a sigh, betraying how weary he was of this whole war. “We have many questionable people on our side. Oberyn believes that we must take everyone who offers us a hand.”

That made Jon chuckle snidely. “He shouldn’t talk. Accepting a marriage proposal to Cersei Lannister. . .” He shakes his head. “Beyond stupid.”

“He has a point though.” The Sword of the Morning admitted, albeit grudgingly. “The only reason Aerys still has the major lords in his hand is due to everyone fearing him and his madness. There are a great many that believe it was him that. . . that set fire to (y/n)’s room. . .” Even Jon winced at the mention of Rhaegar’s late wife. Even a year after her passing and the wound had not yet healed for their prince. It grew infected and worse by the day as he carried her death with him. They saw the damage it had done from his eyes.

Half lidded eyes look up at his friends, those he would trust with his life. They were frozen, waiting for what Rhaegar’s reaction would be. Truth be told he no longer possessed any energy to cry for her even though when he was alone at night, memories of her would dance in his mind. The feeling of how she felt pressed up against him as they slept together in the safety of his bed. . . He longed for those days.

Wetting his lips, Arthur sets down the map piece and looks away. “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I didn’t mean to bring up something so painful. . .”

He shook his head. “Please don’t apologize. Not to me.” Wanting to change the subject, Rhaegar switches his attention back to the matter at hand. “Knowing my father, he probably has men waiting for our army in the Kingswood. As easy as it would be going through there we can’t risk it. The Kingswood is no place for a full on battle. The forces from King’s Landing will know that place like the back of their hand. We have no choice but to cross through the territories of the Reach.”

“That land is rich with those who are leal to Aerys.” Warned Arthur.

“We’ll have more open space if there’s a battle.” The prince counter argued. “We have a large battalion, thanks to the newly added men from Tywin Lannister and Dornishmen that are itching for the sight of blood. It would be an utter blood bath if we were to go through the Kingswood. The Reach offers a nice open battlefield. And who knows, maybe we could win over some of the smaller lords of the Reach.”

Jon finally settles into a seat. “We can only hope so.”

Shouts and screams from outside make the three men rise from their seats, alert and poised; ready for another battle. Rhaegar, closer to the tent’s exit, pulls back the flap and gazes outside to a multitude of knights hastily putting their armor on and climbing onto their horses. Chaos weaves between tents as Jon and Arthur gaze at their army, a frenzied mess.

One knight spots Rhaegar and immediately dashes toward him. The stag of Baratheon emblazoned on his chest. “Your Grace, it’s an ambush on one of our camps.”

“Has anyone caught sight of our enemies’ sigil?” Arthur is quick to ask before the knight runs off to join the battle. Already there is the clashing of swords in the distance that echoed in the once quiet clearing that they had made their camp in.

He shakes his head before hiking his leg over his horse’s back. The war horse gallops away to the source of battle.

Young Bors is already running toward Rhaegar, cheeks ablaze from running. “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I’m sorry that I’m late.”

“Don’t waste your breath on unnecessary apologies.” Rhaegar retreats back into his tent to get ready for another battle.

The fighting was in his northernmost camp where most of the Dornish army resided. Not taking too long to join the fight, a knight wearing the sigil of House Ashford immediately swung his blade at the Silver Prince who had just dismounted his horse. Rhaegar quickly deflected the blow with his own sword, making it sing along the length of his foes’ steal and making a quick jab to the Ashford knight’s throat. He fell off to the side and in came another to claim the glory of killing the would-be king. This time it was by a knight of House Merryweather. Noble houses of the Reach, loyal to Aerys, must have already gotten word of Rhaegar’s victory at Summerhall and prepared for his move through their rich lands. Those loyal to the Mad King were scared of his army as they should be. Spread the word to his father that he was coming for the throne. Rhaegar posed an actual threat with his own troops and forces. Aerys should not take him lightly.

Amidst the battle, Rhaegar caught sight of Robert’s horned helm as he was slaughtering foes left to right with such force that Rhaegar would have mistaken him for the Warrior himself. The young Baratheon bull fought with such force and fury that it was almost terrifying. Rhaegar would not want to be the one fighting against him in combat. There was something off though in Robert’s movement. Despite him seemingly slaying the enemy with ease, he was staggering. Reach knights noticed this as well and took advantage as they swarmed in on him like a bunch of ravenous locusts. Even for Robert, it was too much for him as he was starting to drown among them. Ned was deep in his own fight as was his brother; leaving Robert completely to his own.

Gritting his teeth, Rhaegar made the journey over to the young Baratheon lord to help him. Many got in the way, each one cut down by Rhaegar’s sword. Suns, direwolves, dragons, and stags alike blurred with the banners of the opposition as the frenzied dance continued all around him. This wasn’t like Summerhall which had been an easy victory. It was complete madness. Troops of the Reach were dwindling though, unable to withstand the might of Rhaegar’s army.

Robert met Rhaegar’s gaze, blue against lavender, as Rhaegar hacked away at the throng that had clustered around Robert. The two men fought back to back, defending one another as they thinned out those of House Merryweather and Ashford. Someone knocked off Rhaegar’s helm; who, he could not say as he wasn’t paying attention to sigils anymore. Both men were focused on keeping the other alive.

Before Rhaegar could react, a knight came swinging at his face. As Rhaegar was engaged in another sword fight, he was unable to block the attack. . . * “Your hair is so pretty.” (y/n) chirps happily from behind him. Rhaegar could only chuckle as he sat patiently as the young Lannister girl braided his hair. He looked out across the water that surrounded Dragonstone. A lovely day as a nice breeze makes the grass sway gently against them. Rhaegar’s harp sat across his legs, forgotten as he continued to smile at (y/n) braiding his hair. Little fingers that were clumsy at the harp were working so diligently at braiding his hair.

“Aaaand done!” She proclaims proudly, scooching away from Rhaegar to let him assess her work.

He moves his hand behind his head to feel several thick braids meticulously weaved into his hair. “That’s incredible.” And he meant it. “Where did you learn to do that?”

(y/n) moves back so that she’s facing him. Her own pale blonde hair was pulled back into braids. A pinkish-red ribbon finished off the end of her hair. “Thalina taught me. I used to practice on her hair before Viserys stuck molasses into it. Honestly she looks better with short hair though.”

That made Rhaegar frown. So young and his little brother was already acting up. A few months ago, Rhaella had came for a visit and brought Viserys with her as he was still needing his mother. He wreaked havoc on Dragonstone, as Rhaegar read from letters that (y/n) had sent him. A ‘cute little terror’ as (y/n) had called him. Already becoming entitled, Viserys had not let any of the maesters or septas have any peace when he was there. Especially (y/n). Even though she was older and held authority, Viserys walked all over her and treated her like any other house servant. He pulled her hair, broke her belongings, threw her jewelry into the sea and even set fire to a beautiful doll that Rhaegar had gotten her for her name day. He was surprised that all (y/n) had to say about Viserys was that he was a ‘troublesome child’. Any other girl of her status would have been furious and thrown a tantrum. Not gentle hearted (y/n). She took everything in stride, reminding everyone that he was just a child and didn’t know any better. The truth was that Viserys was being spoiled by their father. Aerys was already putting ideas of entitlement into the little prince’s mind; that everything belonged to him and no one could say no to him. Rhaella could do nothing about it as Aerys always had the last word in how his children were raised.

Rhaegar watches (y/n) as she goes on to make a crown composed of the small white flowers that were strewn all over the hill. She hummed to herself happily as she did so. There was such an improvement in her demeanor that Rhaegar couldn’t help the warmth that permeated in his chest.

“Are you happy here, (y/n)?”

She turns up her soft, green eyes. “Very much! I like to play in the room where the big table is. You can see all the mountains and rivers. It helps me when the maester teaches me geography.”

“Good. I’m glad.” * Rhaegar held up the hand mirror to examine his face.

“Can you still see out of your right eye?” Jon fretted behind him.

“Truth be told, I can’t see anything. My vision is all foggy.”

Robert, mending from his own wounds, gives out a hearty chuckle. “That’s what milk of the poppy will do to you.”

Even though he couldn’t see much, Rhaegar could still make out the vicious red line that went diagonally across his face. Pieces of his silver hair had been slashed off, making the maester cut off his long hair. Apparently it wouldn’t do to have the future king with a shabby haircut. Rhaegar thought it the least of his worries as he tried to force his vision to clear.

In a more serious tone, Robert continues. “You saved my life. I’m in your debt now.”

Gingerly, Rhaegar prodes at his face. It stung only a little bit, the milk of the poppy doing it’s job in numbing the pain. A scar, it would leave a nasty scar. He remembered (y/n)’s scars that were on her back. Long and jagged, now they matched. Rhaegar could still remember running his lips and tongue over her scars, how she would twitch as his motions tickled her slightly. A giggle would escape her and he would do it again out of playfulness instead of lust. There was no sound sweeter in the world than that of (y/n)’s uncontrollable giggles.

He set down the mirror and turned his attention to Robert. “Consider the debt repaid once I have my throne.”

He wouldn’t play games with his father anymore. Aerys had done too much damage. Killing (y/n) and continuously harming the gentle Rhaella. . .

Gone was the boy who loved to play his harp to delight his little fiancee.

Rhaegar would go after him with fire and blood.

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