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finn-m-corvex · 1 year ago

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Lightning in a Cubicle Pt. 3

And here it is, a day before Pt. 2 so we can see just how factually incorrect this AU is! And it will also officially become an AU rather than just speculation. This one took a little rewriting but I got it somewhere that I'm happy with.

Words: 3.4k

No TWs! But there is a taglist: @rainofthetwilight @giftofjay @lightning-chicken @i-love-jay-walker @sir-robyn this is for all of you! Remember that if you want to be tagged, please tell me explicitly! Enjoy!

“..and that should be everything.” Jay finished, leaning back in his chair. He watched as Sora bit her lip in concentration, running the eraser on her pencil along the bullet points written on the paper to make sure that she had gotten everything. Her thoroughness made a bolt of pride shoot through Jay, and he was almost afraid of how quickly he had gotten attached to this kid.

Sora looked up, pencil tapping against the blue clipboard that Jay had lent her. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure, yeah,” but Jay still reached for the small manual that he had printed out while Sora had run to the bathroom. Before today, he didn’t know that the Administration’s website had an official ‘How to Train your Intern!’ handbook, and Jay figured it couldn’t hurt to try it. “At least, that’s everything in here. If you have any more questions, though, feel free to ask me.”

“Got it.” Sora gave him back his pencil, and Jay was quick to put it back in his pencil cup before he forgot. “Now where do I work, exactly?”

That-that was a great question, actually.

“Uh,” Jay said, flipping through the handbook and cursing the lack of a spine, “it says here that you’re just supposed to stay in your handler’s office, except, well…”

“Your office is smaller than my shoebox,” Sora joked, and Jay chuckled. She wasn’t wrong.

“Maybe this will finally be my excuse to get a proper office,” Jay said thoughtfully, tapping his chin as he mulled the idea over in his head. Even Shitty Sharon wouldn’t be able to deny him an office now, especially with an intern assigned to his name by the head of the department and not just his manager.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Sora leaned forward on her clipboard with a mischievous smile, “you only got the intern to get a squeaky new office? How could you?”

Jay put a hand on his chest, making a sound in mock offense. “Sora! Your dear superior would never! How could you think such a thing?”

“You have ‘get an office’ written as one of the things on the visionboard that I’m guessing you had to make during a work function.”

Quicker than lightning, Jay’s hand whipped out and grabbed the offending visionboard, tossing it over his cubicle wall in a perfect arc to land in their shredder. “You saw nothing.”

The girl looked surprised to hear the shredder start up as the board landed, starting to make its way into Bitchy Bethany’s next batch of paper-mache. “Did you just-”

“I did nothing,” Jay said quickly, whipping around to open his laptop up properly. He needed to start answering emails as soon as possible, who knows how many had already piled up in his inbox since yesterday? Gotta make himself look busy in case Shitty Sharon decided to show up.

Except the damn thing didn’t turn on.

Pressing the power button in frustration, Jay and Sora waited a couple seconds, both watching as the laptop did nothing. Jay pressed it again, growing impatient. He could feel his lightning start to come alive under his skin, and it took everything in him to stay in control. He could not afford to slip up now, with an Imperian intern sitting not even a foot away from him with everything to gain and nothing to lose from turning him over to Empress Beatrix.

Sora cleared her throat. “If you want, I can try to take a look at it?”

Waving his hand in a frustrated motion, Jay told her to have at it. He watched as the girl closed the screen and flipped it over, examining it and the holes hiding the screws. “Do you have a screwdriver, by any chance?” she asked, and Jay did a quick look over his desk and through his drawers only to come up empty-handed.

“No, sorry,” he said, “but it’s okay! We can just run it down to I.T. real quick. They like me so we should be able to just get in and out.”

Besides, he could always do with more time out of the office; it would help settle him down. Grabbing up his keycard and wallet, Jay stuffed the computer into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. It was close enough to lunchtime to warrant stopping by one of the restaurants on the upper floors, and it would be a nice way to get to know his new ward. Plus, he hadn’t splurged on some good food for himself in quite some time, so it should be a nice time for both of them.

Following behind him, Sora closed the door to the office as Jay punched them both out, and she took the time-card from his hand to stuff it back into her jacket pocket. “Thanks, Jay.”

“Anytime,” Jay said easily, making sure to shorten his stride so the girl could keep up. She was taller than he would’ve expected, but he still cleared her by a few inches, enough to make it difficult to walk at his pace. “You down to get some lunch while we’re out?”

Who was he expecting to see when he saw her?

“Only if you’re paying,” she joked, and Jay chuckled. Yeah, he liked this girl.

“Glad to see they finally hired someone with a sense of humor,” Jay remarked, waving hi to Luke the security guard as they passed by him. Luke had a friendly smile on his face, twirling the standard-issue baton in his hands.

“Who’s the kid?” Luke asked, and Sora stiffened on Jay’s other side.

“This is Sora, my new intern,” Jay explained, subtly moving in front of Sora to try and shield her from view. Why was he suddenly feeling so protective over her? “Sora, this is Luke, the security guard for our floor. He’s super chill.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sora said, reaching out to shake hands, but Jay saw how stilted the movements were. Maybe she didn’t like meeting new people?

Jay was quick to usher her along after Luke’s hand dropped away, giving the man a quick wave behind him. “See you later, Luke! We’re going to lunch!”

“Enjoy yourselves!” Luke called, and Jay gave him a quick thumbs-up. Sora looked almost relieved to be away from him, and Jay felt that protective instinct flare up from inside of him again. She smiled at him, and Jay had to stop walking with the wave of nostalgia that washed over him; there was a flash of blond hair in his vision, and he recognized it immediately as Lloyd’s.

What was going on?

Sora paused, looking back at him standing in the middle of the hallway. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” Jay stammered, starting to walk with her again to the elevators. “Just got lost in my head for a second.”

That’s one way to say it.

Flicking his keycard out from his pocket and swiping it, Jay noticed that Sora’s foot started tapping against the floor as they waited for the elevator, an exact mirror of how he would do it. He knew that whenever his foot started tapping it meant he was nervous, so was she feeling nervous? Over what?

“Is everything okay with you?” Jay asked, gently laying a hand on her arm. He noticed for the first time that she was wearing gloves over both hands; a rather odd choice for someone who had to use their hands all day.

Biting her lip, Sora looked nervous. “A-Are there any other Imperians in the building?”

“Huh?” Jay wheeled around, quickly checking around the hallway. Panic surged through his veins as his eyes searched for people, finding no one. There was only Luke whistling to himself as he checked his phone. “What Imperians?”

He was fucked if there were other Imperians in the building.

“That one that you just introduced me to,” Sora hissed, picking up on his urgency. “Is he the only one or are there others?”

“Luke isn’t Imperian,” Jay said, confused. He squinted at the man, searching his face for the signature markings. There wasn’t even a little trace of them, which left him even more confused as Sora pulled him into the elevator, punching in a random number just to make the doors close even faster. It was a miracle that the car was empty, especially at this time of day. Neither of them were paying close enough attention to Luke, turning to each other as the doors finally slid shut, and they didn’t see as the man pressed a button on a hidden communications unit around his wrist.

“We may have a complication, sir,” he said, and no one was around to listen to the rest of their conversation.

“What were you thinking?!” Jay said quickly, trying to figure out any way to stop the elevator. He was this close to ripping the control panel off and rewriting the whole damn thing, because they could absolutely not get off on the floor Sora had typed in.

“Is floor 154 bad?” Sora asked, raising an eyebrow at the way Jay started running his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth across the floor even though he could cross it in two strides.

“That’s the aquarium!” Jay exclaimed. “Do you know what they’ll do to us if they find us in the aquarium?!”

“...no?”

Oh right, she was still new here. He shouldn’t be surprised that she hadn’t gone over the directory yet. “Floors 150 to 160 are for families only. You cannot go there unless you have kids or you have a really good excuse, and in case you haven’t noticed we are lacking both.”

“That’s dumb,” Sora said, frowning. “Why can’t people just go to the aquarium whenever they want?”

“Because that’s not how it works around here!” Jay could feel a vein start to pop out on his forehead in frustration. “You don’t understand! If they catch us in there-”

“What? Are they gonna scan our keycards and find out that we aren’t long lost father and daughter?” Sora said mockingly, which only heightened Jay’s anxiety.

“YES!”

Her face fell. “They can actually do that?”

“The Administration is one of the most technologically advanced places in Ninjago,” Jay said angrily, “of course they can do that!”

Before he could start to chew her out thoroughly, the doors opened with a quiet hiss, and suddenly Jay was face-to-face with a security guard. The guard was taller than him, with large shoulders and sunglasses on his face with a red rim around the legs. He definitely looked much less chill than Luke ever could be in his life.

Holy shit they were so fucking hooped! He was so fucking fired.

Imperians had fucked him over just like he thought they would; he just wasn’t expecting it to be via wrong floor of the elevator rather than a lifetime of being drained like a damn battery.

The guard looked down the bridge of his nose at Jay, who could already feel the sweat starting to gather on his palms. “Good afternoon, sir. Welcome to the aquarium.”

“G-Good afternoon,” Jay said, plastering a phony smile on his face and standing in front of Sora, as if that would keep her hidden away and mitigate their punishment. “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience sir, we’ll just be on our way-”

“Nonsense!” the guard smiled, an uncharacteristically crooked grin splitting his face. “We just put in a new shark exhibit, and I’m sure you and your daughter would love to see it.”

“Daughter?” Jay caught himself. “Uh, yeah my daughter! Totally my daughter. Then I guess you wouldn’t mind us just walking in, right?”

Were they actually going to get away with this?

“Of course not, sir,” the guard said, “and please, call me Sam. I only have to look intimidating for those of us who don’t have kiddos at home. Gotta keep the peace around here somehow, you know?”

“Absolutely!” Jay said with as much fake joy as he could muster. He frantically signalled behind him to Sora with a gesture that he hoped she would understand, and the girl popped her head out from behind her shoulder to wave to the guard. “The peace, yup, that means everything to us lowly office drones! Pardon us, this is our first time here.”

Sam squinted, scrutizing the two of them, and Jay felt like sweating buckets. “Say, are you sure she’s your daughter?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-

“She’s adopted,” Jay blurted without even thinking about the implications of what he was saying, and he could only imagine how horrified Sora probably looked standing behind him, “we haven’t been together for very long, and I thought I would show her around the aquarium as a sort-of welcome home.”

A pang of something filled his chest from top to bottom when he thought more about what he had said. Adopted? Why did that word resonate so strongly with him?

Why was it making him feel sad?

Jay was not prepared for the force of the shoulderclap that Sam gave him, keeping his wince hidden and forcing another smile on his face as he shook himself out of his thoughts. “Good for you two! I better not keep you any longer, then. Have a good time!”

“Thank you!” Jay said forcefully, making himself take a couple steps out of the elevator; the feeling in his chest had grown into a small void. Sora wasn’t following him, he noticed, so he turned around to the girl still standing in the elevator. “Sora? You coming, kiddo?”

“Oh!” she said, walking out of the car and past Sam quickly. “Yeah! Coming, D-Dad!”

Dad. Another word that struck him in a way that almost knocked him off of his feet.

He wished he could remember what had happened to his dad. God, Pa must be so worried about him; was his pa even okay? Jay knew that his parents were on the older side, but still, surely he would’ve remembered if something had happened to him.

What was his life? He had barely known this girl for a few hours and now he was pretending to be someone as important as her father? Good grief, she must be so mad at him.

The hallway leading to the aquarium was dark and ocean-themed, painted floor to ceiling like tidal waves with fish under the sea in a scene that niggled at the back of Jay’s mind, the only sound being the echoes of their footsteps against the tile. It was one of the most awkward silences Jay could ever remember being in (not that it meant very much), and his eyes were darting around the corridor, looking for anything to latch onto other than the girl at his side.

“Hey, Jay?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s an aquarium? Like, are we in danger?” Sora asked quietly, and Jay turned to look at her. She seemed nervous, wringing her hands together and biting her lip. That wouldn’t do, especially when they were supposed to be having fun.

Jay chuckled. “No kiddo, no danger. An aquarium is like a bunch of giant fish tanks all in the same building. They keep all sorts of stuff in them, they’re actually really neat. I went to the one in Ninjago years ago, before the Merge.” It was one of the few things he could remember from that time. He had been with his parents on his first trip to Ninjago City, and he could remember sitting on his Pa’s shoulders and looking through the glass with a sense of wonder, pointing to all of the sharks and the manta rays that would pass by.

Except his favorite one had been the giant octopus, and Jay felt himself blush at the memory of the tantrum he threw when his parents tried to take him away to another exhibit; that was how much he had loved the octopus. It wasn’t his fault that it was so cool!

“There weren’t any aquariums in Imperium,” Sora commented, and Jay forced himself to stop walking down memory lane and pay attention to her. “I don’t even think we had oceans.”

“And that’s why there’s a first time for everything,” Jay said, noticing as the hallway started to get brighter with blue light. They were getting close.

Sure, Jay had been in an aquarium before, but he wasn’t expecting one quite on this scale. Stepping out into the main hall was like walking straight into the sea, and Jay had to take a deep breath to double-check that he wasn’t underwater. Patterns danced across the now carpeted floor as the light warped and refracted off of the glass, and Jay felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him as he looked around at all of the tanks. They were filled with as much coral and plantlife as he would’ve expected from a place as loaded as the Administration, and all of the colorful fish looked right at home swimming back and forth in the humongous tanks.

He turned to look at Sora next to him, smiling at her awe-struck expression and the soft sound of amazement that left her mouth. “Like what you see?”

“This is so cool,” Sora breathed, and Jay was unprepared for her to grab at his arm and start tugging him towards the biggest tank. “Come on! I wanna go look at the sharks!”

“The sharks?” Jay asked. “Aren’t they a bit overrated?”

“You can never go wrong with sharks,” and when they finally stopped in front of the tank, Sora held up her hands and pressed her face against the glass, trying to get as close to the sea creatures as humanly possible. “Look how cool they are! And they’re so BIG!”

Something about seeing her so happy, so carefree as she looked at the fish with the biggest smile on her face made Jay’s chest squeeze. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been here before, done something similar to this with someone else in his life. A rush of ptotectiveness came over him, and even though he had only known this girl for a few hours Jay knew that she was filling a hole in his life that he didn’t even know he had.

Had he always been this much of a sap?

Catching his eye, Jay turned to a floor-to-ceiling cylinder tank, and something in his gut was tugging him in that direction. He walked up to it, placing a hand on the glass and reading the plaque on the side, almost as if he were in a trance.

Octopus. He found his favorite.

“Hey there,” Jay cooed, watching as the large creature slithered across the sand. Its head jiggled as it went, the sand under it flying through the water as it moved. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Almost like it heard him, the octopus shifted around, waving two tentacles in the air before starting to move towards the edge of the tank. Jay watched, transfixed, as the octopus raised a single tentacle and placed it where Jay’s hand was resting. The moment was made even more magical when lightning surged from Jay’s fingertips without his permission, almost as if the creature was calling it. The blue glow was mesmerizing, and this wasn’t the first time that Jay would let sparks fly between his fingertips just to watch the energy move through the air. Jay let it flow, small enough so that it couldn’t be seen by any passerby. Never before had using his power felt so satisfying, so right.

Who was he in his past life? An octopus whisperer?

“Wow,” Sora said from next to him, scaring him out of his skin. The octopus quickly skittered away, and Jay was surprised at how saddened he felt watching it go. He couldn’t bring himself to be mad at Sora, though.

Turning to look at her, Jay readjusted his shirt collar and rolled up his sleeves, hoping that he had just looked like a crazy person rather than a personified livewire. “All done with the sharks? We still have a lot more to look at, and then we’re grabbing lunch.”

“On you?” Sora asked jokingly.

“Yup, so we’re gonna get whatever you want,” Jay smirked. “Gotta keep you out of the office for as long as possible.”

“Isn’t the whole reason I’m here to help you in the office?”

“No, they probably just assigned you to me to help keep me young,” Jay sighed.

8ut that was a good thing, he realized as Sora started leading them to the manta ray exhibit, because this whole intern thing was already so much better than he ever could’ve hoped for.

#finn's writing #ninjago #ninjago jay #ninjago sora #ninjago dragons rising #ninjago spoilers #ninjago dragons rising spoilers #finn's ninjago aus

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dailyunsolvedmysteries · 2 years ago

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Suspect Arrested in Killings of 4 College Students in Moscow, Idaho

The man arrested over the brutal murders of four University of Idaho students has been named as Bryan Kohberger.

A SWAT team entered the location in Pennsylvania where Kohberger, 28, was staying and took him into custody around 3 a.m. today (30 December 2022). Police also seized a white Hyundai Elantra matching the description of a car police had being trying to locate from the scene of the murders.

Online records indicate Kohberger appears to have been pursuing a doctorate in criminal justice at Washington State University in Pullman, less than 10 miles from Moscow. Shortly after his arrest, the university took down a grad student page listing his name. A man with the same name is also listed as having received a master of arts in criminal justice from DeSales University in Center Valley, Pa., in 2022.

While at DeSales, Kohberger allegedly posted in a Reddit community for former prisoners to ask for help with a research survey about “how emotions and psychological traits influence decision-making when committing a crime.” The post, which identified Kohberger as the “student investigator,” was purportedly interested in “the story behind your most recent criminal offense, with an emphasis on your thoughts and feelings throughout your experience.”

Kohberger appeared briefly in a Monroe County court friday morning. Records showed he was ordered held without bail and is due to be extradited after a hearing on Jan. 3.

His arrest comes almost seven weeks after Kaylee Goncalves, 21, Madison Mogen, 21, Xana Kernodle, 20, and Ethan Chapin, 20, were stabbed to death in their beds as they slept in their off-campus home on Nov. 13. The murders were the first in Moscow in seven years and have rocked the small college community. Earlier this week, police confirmed they were sifting through 20,000 tips in connection with the case.

Police say the four students were murdered sometime between 3 and 4 a.m. but they were not discovered until hours later after roommates Dylan Mortensen and Bethany Funke became worried they could not reach their friends and called police, who made the grim discovery.

The Moscow Police Department, in conjunction with the FBI and investigators from the University of Idaho, is set to hold a press conference to address developments in the case at 1 p.m. local time Friday.

Meanwhile, a professional crime-scene clean up crew arrived on Friday at the home at 1122 King Road in Moscow where the stabbings occurred, but police stopped them from entering the house due to the developments in the case. After the conclusion of the investigation, it is unclear if the three-story house will be demolished or re-listed by the property owner.

#idaho killings #idaho #killers #cold cases #unsolved #crime #true crime #Bryan Kohberger

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kirkwall-age · 2 months ago

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probably about to reinvent the wheel here

but i think my favorite explanation for the off-screen Athenril fallout is pride before a fall

sidebar: i think i nearly always go the Athenril route because, well, Meeran asks you to straight up kill somebody as a job interview, and Athenril says in her pitch: we’re not slavers and we’re not murderers. and i think the majority of my Hawkes who just left a farm in Lothering are not exactly contract killer material

and the game requires you to walk away from both of them. from the doylist perspective = i get it.

but quitting Meeran’s crew is easy to explain away: the man’s a grade A asshole. but Athenril’s personable. she knows how to be polite which has taken her this far. and yet we know that she has done something so offensive that Hawke storms off and promises to never work with her again

in spite of which Athenril sends you three very politely worded letters (job offers for Loose Ends, Bait and Switch and The Bone Pit), keeping the line of communication open and fairly amiable

so the way i see it is:

Athenril’s crew is small. she is trying to get by without attracting too much attention from the Coterie or the Carta. that’s fact

Hawke joins her crew -- which betters Athenril’s business considerably. that’s also fact. we know from Varric’s introductiory speech that Athenril’s operation ended up growing large enough, and the only reason why the Coterie and the Carta didn’t succeed in wiping her out was Hawke

and, at first, I think things go pretty well. Athenril seems like she would try and get along with Hawke. keep her people happy. that’s speculation :)

but, I think, she does enjoy the power play, a little bit. that type of benevolence where you can offer the carrot because you know there is the unspoken threat of the stick. she’s really in control. and everyone knows it. and they should be grateful that she chooses the carrot.

Hawke + sibling have to work for her for a whole year, and they have no choice -- because of Gamlen’s debt, and because Fereldans don’t really have a lot of great options around Kirkwall, and also made worse by the fact that Hawke has to hide either their own magic, or Bethany’s. and, in conversation, Hawke literally refers to it as Athenril having Hawke’s life in her hands for the whole year.

so yeah, Athenril treats them well, but she knows she holds the leash, too

and Athenril sees how her business prospers with Hawke at her beck and call, and her ambition grows

Hawke improves Athenril’s crew overall skill and competency and standing by a large margin, and as other groups get either swallowed up or torn apart by the Carta and the Coterie, Athenril’s crew holds their ground

and Athenril starts telling herself that it is on her merit. that it is her command and her smarts that have gotten them this far, not Hawke’s. and whatever Hawke did to contribute to it — well, that’s still Athenril’s win for finding them and bringing them to heel

and Hawke, with some personality variations, grows either more and more concerned with Athenril’s gluttony for power, or more and more frustrated

and then the year is coming up on its expiration date, and Athenril tries to pressure Hawke into staying. threats are issued -- and fall on deaf ears because Hawke was never afraid of Athenril. she hurls insults, then offers bribes. standard manipulations tactics. arrogance and possessiveness abound

and that is the note on which Hawke leaves as the year is up, and the contract is done, and Hawke no longer has to deal with any of this

and Athenril’s business instantly starts to dwindle. and the power that she imagined starts to turn to sawdust in her hands. and the Coterie starts breathing down her neck (once again: fact) because Athenril no longer can back up her threats or offer sufficient pushback

so, from aggressive, Athenril turns plaintive, sending Hawke multiple letters that are kindly worded, trying to lure them back

the severance note she sends literally says: Your year’s up and you’re free to go. Despite what you think, we had a good thing working together. I might pass along an opportunity or two, if you’re willing to get your hands dirty. Stay safe. — entirely pleasant

and then, as stated above, she also sends letters for Fenris’s recruitment and for the Bone Pit chain. tasty morsels to win Hawke’s trust back. along the lines of: “see, wasn’t this profitable? aren’t i a good boss partner?”

but then when you go to meet her: she isn’t friendly at all. she’s showing some teeth. “Didn’t think you’d stoop to our kind again. Or are you not too proud to make some coin?”

so, some of this is a little contradictory -- and i just required a decent watsonian explanation to tie these loose threads together into a neat narrative

and, then, dealer’s choice. personality pending. in my current playthrough Hawke is pretty patient and doesn’t hold a grudge. she is willing to give Athenril a second chance. see if she came back to her senses. this bit is pure headcanon land. insert whatever rationalization fits the bill

but the thing is: Athenril didn’t change. if possible, she became worse. she’s paranoid, a little more desperate, and a lot more cruel? she started employing orphans and children and virtually abusing them?

so Hawke reneges. helps the kid. and then tells that to Athenril’s face. like: how dare you? are you insane? since when is this how you run your business? this is a far cry from when i agreed to work for you a year ago.

which sends Athenril into... well, pretty much murderous rage. which, i think, is just juicy untapped potential: how incredibly difficult it must be to have worked with/for someone for a year -- only for them to turn on you so completely that you have to put them down with your own hand

at the very least, that’s how this particular playthrough concluded for me. lying is always an option, of course. telling her the Coterie got to her goods first, and then leaving, knowing full well that the Coterie will finish her off. like seeing a person drowning and offering no safety net at all. that’s a good narrative too

either way, that’s my plausible headcanon for The Rise and Fall of Athenril between Prologue and Act 1

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #hawke #athenril #tag: personal #tag: meta #vg: dragon age 2 #unrelated to the actual post which is allowed to stand on its own #but in this playthrough which inspired this line of thought i do think my hawke slept with her #for that extra spicy toxic yuri sauce of:#'we are lovers and you think i treat you as an equal but really i think i have a collar around your neck'#but the second i pull the leash -- it snaps -- because i never had any power over you #and then i proceed to try and gaslight gatekeep girlboss my way into the old status quo -- which never even existed in the way i imagined i #and i push the envelope on this so hard i end up trying to kill you for not being the tool i wanted you to be #or maybe all i accomplish is forcing you to kill me and then carry that guilt in your chest #that your goodness was never enough to fix what was wrong with me #just like you will never be enough to fix what is wrong with this city'#it's about the smallest narrative callback 😔🙏

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ceoofhelaegon · 2 years ago

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Idc how popular/unpopular this opinion is but Helaegon in the show deserves to be portrayed as a complex relationship and not as Aegon/Naerys 2.0 that this fandom desperately want.

Not to be offensive to anyone but saying that A*mond/Helaena are the original Naerys and Aemon is a braindead take

Received similar asks and I thought it was better to reply to both at the same time…so here we go:

Aegon IV:

Aenys was weak and Maegor was cruel and Aegon II was grasping, but no king before or after that would practice so much willful misrule.

—writings of Kaeth in Lives of Four Kings

'Fire and Blood' were the words of House Targaryen, but Dunk once heard Ser Arlan say that Aegon's should have been, 'Wash Her and Bring Her to My Bed'.

—thoughts of Duncan the Tall

Naerys: I have done my duty by you, and given you an heir. I beg you, let us live henceforth as brother and sister.

Aegon: That is what we are doing.

—Naerys and Aegon IV Targaryen

Nine mistresses:

Falena Stokeworth

Megette

Cassella Vaith

Bellegere Otherys

Barba Bracken

Melissa Blackwood

Bethany Bracken

Jeyne Lothston

Serenei of Lys

Other:

Daena Targaryen

Elaena Targaryen (rumored)

Daughters of Lord Butterwell (rumored)

Many others

Aegon II:

“When his grief had passed, King Aegon Il summoned his loyalists and made plans for his return to King's Landing, to reclaim the Iron Throne and be reunited once again with his lady mother, the Queen Dowager, who had at last emerged triumphant over her great rival, if only by outliving her. "Rhaenyra was never a queen," the king declared, insisting that henceforth, in all chronicles and court records, his half sister be referred to only as "princess," the title of queen being reserved only for his mother Alicent and his late wife and sister Helena, the "true queens." And so it was decreed.”

“Though Blood and Cheese spared her life, Queen Helaena cannot be said to have survived that fateful dusk. Afterward she would not eat, nor bathe, nor leave her chambers, and she could no longer stand to look upon her son Maelor, knowing that she had named him to die. The king had no recourse but to take the boy from her and give him over to their mother, the Dowager Queen Alicent, to raise as if he were her own. Aegon and his wife slept separately thereafter, and Queen Helaena sank deeper and deeper into madness, whilst the king raged, and drank, and raged."

I was going to put Aegon II’s lovers here but we don’t know them, he’s alleged to have 3 bastards, and none of them are confirmed.

Aemon:

Arianne: And the Dragonknight? The noblest knight who ever lived, you said, and he took his queen to bed and got her with child.

Arys: I will not believe that. The tale of Prince Aemon's treason with Queen Naerys was only that, a tale, a lie his brother told when he wished to set his trueborn son aside in favor of his bastard. Aegon was not called the Unworthy without cause.

—Arianne Martell and Arys Oakheart

Not every man has it in him to be Prince Aemon the Dragonknight or Symeon Star-Eyes...

—Wyman Manderly to Davos Seaworth

When he was born they named him for a hero who had died too young.

—Samwell Tarly recalling Aemon's namesake

Aemond:

Prince Aemond Targaryen, also known as Aemond One-Eye and Aemond the Kinslayer…

One-eyed Prince Aemond, nineteen, was found in the armory, donning plate and mail for his morning practice in the castle yard. "Is Aegon king?" he asked Ser Willis Fell, "or must we kneel and kiss the old whore's cunny?"

Helaena:

"Helaena was a pleasant, happy girl, and all agreed she would make a fine mother. And so she did, and quickly."

Naerys:

She almost died in the cradle and was sickly for most of her life, finding most physical activity to be very taxing. She ate but little and was painfully thin, almost emaciated.

She was also devout in her faith, and often found solace in the pages of The Seven-Pointed Star. She would have become a septa, had her father allowed it.

Aegon IV DESPISED Naerys, he disrespected her and by extent his own trueborn son because of that.

No matter what gaslighting the show tries to do, or other greenies that hate our Aegon…Aegon/Naerys/Aemon will NEVER be Aegon/Helaena/Aemond and in the words of Tywin Lannister:

Is not an opinion, it’s a fact!

#ask #anon #answered #aegon ii targaryen #helaena targaryen #helaegon

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thedragonagelesbian · 4 months ago

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A kiss shared during a game, for the kiss and tell prompt 👀

yay kiss prompts!!

a kiss shared during a game

"Knightly, stop making that face."

"What face? I'm not making a face."

"I find that face rather helpful," Fenris commented, the barest hint of a smirk poking out at the edges of his Wicked Grace cards, "for the rest of the table."

Varric sighed and shifted in his chair-- at least, as much as he could with Cyrus on top of him. When he wasn't broadcasting the quality of Varric's hand and or taking sips of rum (the only thing he'd drink as of late, despite it turning his head fuzzier than a dandelion quicker than a kid wishing on it), the elf pressed their bodies tight together. He was fidgety even repose, nuzzling Varric's neck or toying with the seams of his jacket or curling into the crook of his arm and shoulder to watch the game through heavy-lidded eyes, feet dangling over the arm of the chair and still twitching. As close to restful as Cyrus could get, and his body was still ready to start running again.

That, Varric had grown accustomed to over the years. What was new were all of those little quirks happening in his lap.

Cyrus gave his affection so readily--hand on Bethany's arm, head on Anders' shoulder, arms around Merrill's torso--but after a lifetime of loving in whispers and shadows, in quiet and thankless work, Varric still couldn't believe he'd ended up here, cuddling in the middle of the Hanged Man.

And still, Varric's grip on his waist tightened as Cyrus once more rearranged himself, slipping down to rest his head against Varric's chest.

The craziest of things became possible by his side.

"I'm fond of it too," Merrill commented, not-quite-chipper and thumbing her cards. Her gifted set, a soot-black kitten playing with flower petals. "With Isabela gone, you win most of the time anyway, Varric. Cyrus is just giving the rest of us a chance, aren't you, lethallan?"

"Planned it like that from the beginning," Anders added. "Sabotage."

And despite the strain in the mage's smile, it made Cyrus snicker, reverberations warm like thunder through Varric's chest.

"Sabotage?" Varric echoed with exaggerated offense. "That's what this is? You, the duplicitous double agent, me, the naive fool left teary-eyed and heartbroken by your betrayal?"

Cyrus' laughter grew from a clap to a storm until he was throwing his head back over Varric's arm and drawing the attention of every patron in the bar with his tipsy, infectious joy. With a light that had become harder and harder to see as of late.

"Yes, yes, you caught me, wicked spy that I am come to tease your Wicked Grace secrets out of you." Still giggling, Cyrus hooked his fingers underneath Varric's necklace and drew their faces close together. "Like this."

Whatever embarrassment Varric might've felt melted away with everything else. The whole world and all its wretched business of champions and stories, it evaporated into Cyrus' mouth, honey-soft and hot. And because that was all there was left--Cyrus' body, safe and present and alive--Varric put his cards down on the table so he could cradle his cheek. The touch of leather all but made Cyrus purr against his lips.

And if someone else meddled with those cards while he was distracted, well, it was a shit hand anyway.

#see im capable of writing something lighthearted & fluffy AND answering prompts quickly. sometimes. rarely.#cyrus hawke #cyrusXvarric

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bohemian-nights · 7 months ago

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It's always interesting how as soon as black women become a love interest in a straight ship 1 of 2 things will happen.

A third thing, the double standards, an example:

Laena x Rhaenyra ship- in the books we know they were close and some fans use the phrase"more than fond of"to reinforce they were a couple(nothing against this couple it's still fiction eh)

Everything normal here.

But when we learnt more about Rhaegar and Elia and their relationship, the sentence "fond" is still used to describe their relationship and now you have people saying "oh they were just friends" "oh he didn't love her" "oh Elia will be okay with Rhaegar and Lyanna being a couple"

First at all, the racism, Dorne is not okay with adultery in marraige, they don't care if if man or woman, UNMARRIED, take a paramour,UNMARRIED; it's different for them, a different mindset

•Convenient how now when their white fave needs to be paired up with a white character(nothing against Lyanna, the girl was 14 year old)when there are POC characters that show interest in them(Elia loved Rhaegar and I can dream he loved her, why? BECAUSE I LOVE ANGST)

CONVENIENCE MY DEAR FRIEND

Read about the Sophie's actress' scandal(if you called that) -just wtf.

Also Bethany's harassment.WTF.

If they are not happy with Sophie being black, then they are free to read the books or ignore it! It's not that difficult.

Bethany is gonna slay this season, so stay mad colonizers😏

Sorry for the rant, tired of this nonsense🤣

Ps: Some people are starting shipping Dettles out of spite, for the racism's nonesense so yeah, IT'S GONNA BE A LONG YEAR HERE!!All of you are doing great sweeties🥰

Don’t apologize for ranting cause everything you said is the truth👏🏽

I hate Laenyra. People mainly hype it up to move attention away from Daemon and Laena’s marriage and center their self insert into their relationship .

Yeah it’s ironic that the same people hyping up Laryngitis and saying all those who oppose it are racistare the same people who love dunk on Elia non-stop and say that she was fine with her husband sleeping with Snow Becky because she’s dornish. The same people hyping up Jon’s parents are the same people who dunk on Dettles.

I’ll be the first one to say that I don’t give a damn about Ravioli and Snow Becky, but I’ll admit that it was GRRM’s intention to make them romantic(it’s definitely not supposed to be grooming even if I find the whole situation weird). I’ll even admit that there are plenty of similarities between Dettles and that ship, but you’d have an easier time finding a leprechauns gold than getting those people to admit the same.

Don’t get me started on the Bridgerton fandom. A bunch of ungrateful bigots who keep making demands of Shonda while at the same time degrading her and saying there are “too many Black people” on the show (and then crying when people call them out for being the anti-Black morons they are).

And I get that Masali hasn’t been officially announced as Sophie, and of course she’s not the only possibility, but she’s the only one whose name that has been circulating around that fits the casting call. Her schedule was cleared last year and she’s got no upcoming projects. She’s following multiple members of the cast and multiple members are following her back.

(Nicola, Hannah Dodd, Hannah New, Victor Ali who is suspected to be playing John, as well as one of the hairdressers who does the main casts hair to name a few. Hell, there was even one of the directors following her, but he mysteriously unfollowed her for some reason).

More importantly, no one else has produced another casting call to contradict said casting call or to show that the role she was cast for is a member of the Stirling family.

(I’m not going to get into it, but if you’re “evidence” hinges on Masali and Victor Ali looking alike please go down to Lens Crafters cause they don’t look nothing alike outside of being dark and Black. It’s fucking offensive as fuck to say they do).

And as I said in a previous ask, the Bridgerton team has cast a role with a specific race in mind cause they were looking for an Indian woman to play Kate(which is how some people figured Simone Ashley was playing Kate when most of Kates fancasts were white women👏🏽).

So the fact that you have so many people running around like a chicken with its head cut off claiming it’s impossible for Sophie to be Black, that Sophie should be x race, or just being racist jackasses is disturbing asf. You shouldn’t have to see this bullshit:

You bet your ass I took screenshots cause everybody likes to lie and hide their hands after typing out the most vile shit.

And yeah I get everyone wants representation, but people keep trying to silence and speak over Black people specifically Black women and that's where we have a problem.

Because for any other group, this behavior would be absolutely unacceptable. Especially if you are making demands that an EP not cast any more people of her race on her show, but with Black women that doesn't matter. They don’t care.

We haven’t even had a fucking fully Black female love interest get her happily ever after with a man(the people saying Masali should be a gender-bent Michael need to have several seats cause you’re creating a OC just because you don’t want to see her as Sophie) like everybody else and yet they want us to step aside and cheer them on. Fuck that.

This is why I don’t believe any of you hateful bitches when you say you care about misogynoir because the moment a Black woman is cast in a role you want, even in a role that’s meant for a Black woman like with Nettles, y’all either start demanding she be cut or made into something else.

This literally happens every single time Black female characters are involved and yet you can’t even talk about it because people want to ignore and perpetuate our oppression.

I’ll leave it there cause I’m too exhausted by all of this drama(it’s making my blood boil), but these fandoms piss me off so much. They make it hell for non-white and especially Black fans to exist within them. Even in shows created by Black people.

#bnask #bnasks #fandom drama #bncommentary #hey look we are both ranting now 🤣#fandom misogynoir

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the-heartlines · 7 months ago

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ok I sent an ask in a little while ago and I also saw your recent post and I can't remember if I referred to the events that were revealed as fandom drama, I'm sorry if I did, that was insensitive of me...as a POC I was really hurt to see one of the main perpetrators being racist, especially because I'd actually opened up to her about deeply personal things thinking she was a nice person....and after seeing how she spoke and the things she said, I'm really just heartbroken to see it. She made me feel like her blog and her as a person were a safe space, and I stepped out of my bounds of comfort to open up, only to deeply regret it afterwards, when it was revealed the truth of her character.

I'm sorry if my earlier ask might've been offensive or insensitive, you're right, it's more than just drama, it's unforgivable behaviour. I just sent the earlier ask to show appreciation for your blog as not being a space like that. <3<3

oh god no, no! don't apologize!!!! PLEASE!!! my post wasn't in regards to you or responding to that. it is drama but to just boil it down to fandom drama— i'm 1000% pointing fingers at the perpetrators who just reduce it down that and think everyone will forgive them for allowing it to happen or being complicit in it! saying sorry publicly and making a broad statement isn't enough will never be enough, because the damage is DONE and you're sorry you got caught, not trying to truly make amends, atoning for past mistakes.

also, it was just a thought i have had all day because i saw the racism kelly marie tran and BIPOC reylos dealt with first hand after the last jedi came out. then bethany antonia's post about the racism she's dealing with.

and you, as POC, should never ever apologize to me! PLEASE i am a white cis woman in her 30s...and i am sorry you had to see that shit in a place you're suppose to find a fun outlet in, build fandom friendships in! no one should have to be subjected to such nastiness, but alas, this is fandom and racists will find a way and infiltrate spaces and be their nasty selves. i'm just glad they are being revealed.

again, this was no way shape or form in regards to the last anon you sent me, just a rant and something i felt i should speak up about because i feel if i had a responsibility to! ♥️♥️♥️

and i will try my best to continue to do in the future.

#hotd fandom #racism

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asterroses · 5 months ago

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hiii did NOT see your post earlier but i would love to hear more about your da protags.... do any of them have like a best friend or closest friends or like. just a dynamic like that that you'd like to talk about?

OUGHHH I LOVE THIS QUESTION

the most obvious answer in my head right now is how close denaris and alistair are platonically . i mean they've been by each others sides since Day 1 of Wardening ! denaris is never without him ; i think what denaris is with his kind of angry nature alistair balances that out with more . not reasonable but i guess kinder ? personality ? denaris isn't rlly a Kindly Guy - he did maul a man w his teeth lolol i dunnoooo i just think those two are so entwined . which what makes leaving ali in the fade hard :[ ah well there's other wardens [JOKING]

altho another bestieship im workshopping rn is isabela and nikolas AND merril and nikolas ! ! ! varric n hawke r kind of a given friendship so thats more obvious but aside from varric and obviously fenris , merrill and isabela are nikky's two closest friends . i think it's hard for nikky to feel like . Close with anders , if that makes sense . maybe it's his guilt for what happened to bethany , maybe it's his guilt for not being a magic user so he can maybe relate to anders' pain , who knows . thye may be kind and nice w one another , but theres a gap there . he thought he could maybe get close w aveline but that went absolutely down the drain , it started going down before but as soon as his mother died at the hands of someone THE GUARD COULD HAVE STOPPED AND CAUGHT their relationship is that of two attack dogs .

arcen is besties w sera , varric and josephine . it's kinda hard for me to see him close w a few inquisition members ! him and cassandra do not get along AT ALL , he and vivienne have a respectful workplace friendship but they do butt heads , solas n him start not seeing eye to eye bcus of solas's whole thing w the dalish [which arcen ithink would take offense to] , and blackwall and iron bull are too much of liars for him to get close enough to . dorian gets boyfriend status ^_^ idk some inquisiton relations r hard to place cus i just don't rlly . uhhh . Enjoy a few of the companions lololol

#SORRY THAY GOT SO LONG #AND DIDNT RLLY . ANSWER THE QUESTION . BUT I LOVE TO BABBLE AND RAMBLE #asks #oc asks #denaris tabris #nikolas hawke #arcen lavellan #mutuals ✨️#lily tag

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ladylaviniya · 28 days ago

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐳𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 — 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐 || 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟒

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐋𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫. 𝐃𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐋𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐬 "𝐰𝐲𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧" 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐅𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧, 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤!𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐗 𝐋𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 (𝐌𝐲 𝐎𝐅𝐂)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐄𝐚𝐭, 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭-𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞, *𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭*, 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦, 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟖.𝟏𝐤

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬:

★𝐈 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫. 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤.

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: "𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐈𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬" 𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝

The King returned shortly after the gracious advice granted to her by the lord Hand. Martyn bud the new couple farewell and Aemond insisted on returning her to her new rooms so that she might rest and mentally prepare for the ceremonies of marriage tomorrow. As Aemond led her out of his chambers and private library, Laviniya clenched his arm gently. She wanted to ask him more things, things about himself so she could navigate him, or rather manipulate him potentially in the future in case he was in a futile mood. But before Laviniya could speak, a loud excited shrill alarmed her.

“Aemond!” Laviniya’s heart stopped as a heavily pregnant young woman with red hair, who appeared out of thin air, suddenly appeared at the door and immediately embraced the king, showing an intimate familiarity with him that alarmed Laviniya. Her lips parted in surprise as her eyes widened in disbelief.

A mix of surprise and relief flickered across Aemond’s face as he held the redheaded woman in his embrace, his tone low and tender. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he chided gently, his hand instinctively falling to her round belly, “I’ve been worried.”

The woman spoke with a hint of offense, yet her smile betrayed her true feelings. “You’ve been worried!” she protested, “Yet someone attempted to take your life!” Her hand gently closed over his, her touch protective and concerned, “Ser Raynard said you were attacked along your journey home!”

Aemond smirked and glanced to Laviniya who immediately shrunk away from the pair, almost totally behind him. What else had that fucking knight said? Had he mentioned it was her that had maimed the king? She didn’t know this woman, but by her familiarity to the king himself, Laviniya felt a sense of shame potentially reporting even guilt.

Aemond chuckled, waving off any concern. “Nothing worth fussing over, as always.” He let go of her and reached for Laviniya who was beside him. With a shift of his body, he ensured both women had a clear view of one another. “Laviniya,” he announced, “This is my cousin, Fair Lady Bethany Velaryon, Martyn’s twin sister. And Beth, I presume you have already heard about my fianceé, Laviniya Targaryen,.your future queen, considering how quickly news of my injury has spread.”

Bethany’s features softened, taking on a more composed expression as she offered a gracious half-curtsy in greeting. “Your Highness.” Standing with an air of regal bearing, her tall and statuesque frame was reminiscent of her twin brother. Her gown, though clearly designed in the latest fashion, teetered on the brink between stylish and frivolous, adorned with a delicate display of frills and ribbons.

Lady Bethany shared a strong resemblance with Martyn in the shape of her lips and the subtle hint of mischievous sparkle in her green eyes and flaming auburn hair, but her features were softer, more delicate. Her face held less freckles than her brother. With a gentle touch, she took hold of Laviniya’s hand, her voice warm and sincere. “I am honoured to greet you,” she repeated, her words laced with earnest expectation, “I believed my cousin almost incapable with marriage, what with his Wyverns.”

His Wyverns? What?

Laviniya spoke, a touch of hesitance in her voice, as she responded, her words slightly stilted, “I...am most honoured to hold his majesty’s favour.” She curtsied deeply, her amethyst eyes meeting her emerald ones, “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Bethany.

Her mind working quickly, she suddenly realized that this was the moment to drop the veneer of perfection. A time to be sincere, not flawless.

Being genuine in her greeting was a necessary act, but it also came with a healthy dose of self-awareness. After all, it was no secret that her recent engagement to the king floated on the sky of unorthodoxy. With every word spoken, every gesture made, Laviniya would strive to find a balance between her own vulnerability and the dignity befitting a future queen.

Laviniya’s comportment was refined and gracious to the point of perfection, as a jubilant welcome felt insincere. She was acutely aware of the delicate nature of her situation, recognizing the need to balance her emotions and maintain a composed air appropriate for a future royal. As such, her greeting was measured, her smile pleasant, yet her voice carried a hint of restrained warmth.

“I believe I heard his majesty mention that you’re not supposed to be here,” Laviniya said, her tone suggestive, as her hand joined their shared grasp, the other lifting to cover it gently. “Might I inquire as to why this allegation has been made. Do you not live here your ladyship?”

With a knowing glance and an inviting smile, Lady Bethany quipped, her voice holding a hint of secretive mirth, “Well, Lady Laviniya, if we were to always remain in our appointed places, I dare say life would grow quite tiresome. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Laviniya was speechless by her progressive outspokenness. She glanced to Aemond and back to lady Bethany before nodding in agreement.

With a touch of sincerity in her words, Lady Bethany clasped Laviniya’s hands warmly, her friendly behaviour on par with her brother. “I understand you must be feeling quite overwhelmed,” she said kindly, “but would you consider sharing supper with me tonight? I would truly like to become better acquainted, and if I don’t seize this opportunity, it’s uncertain when I’ll get another chance! I imagine you’re already swamped with all the wedding preparations.”

Aemond interjected, his voice smooth and measured, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Laviniya is quite exhausted,” he proclaimed, his words carrying a touch of concern beneath their pleasant tone. “And tomorrow will be a long day for her.” He turned to regard his fiancée, his expression warm and reassuring. “My cousin is very energetic,” he acknowledged, “but you’re under no obligation to cater to her whims if you’re weary. I assure you, she is prone to exaggerating, and fully aware that she will see you again soon.”

Bethany protested with a playful swat at her cousin’s arm, feigning offense though her tone was lighthearted. “How terribly mean of you,” she teased, her smile widening as she turned to Laviniya and looped their arms together, her tone growing conspiratorial. “He’s merely afraid of us joining forces against him,” she confided, her voice dipping into a half-whisper. “He can be quite suspicious like that, you’ll soon discover. But of course, if you require your rest, I wouldn’t dream of intruding.”

While Lady Bethany seemed amiable and charming on the surface, Laviniya could not help but wonder if there were more complex facets to her character beneath the veneer of polite decorum. Regardless, she chose to remain open-minded, maintaining a watchful yet gracious attitude towards her new acquaintance.

Her gaze shifted between the king and his cousin, contemplating the towering height that seemed to be a common trait among those from House Hightower. She spoke up, her voice soft yet steady, “But it’s simply supper, isn’t it? I shall be eating it anyway.”

The possibility crossed Laviniya’s mind: could this fair lady possess a modicum of Lord Martyn’s intuitive insightfulness? Or, perhaps her exterior concealed a hidden unkindness? Or might this be a rare case of transparency, where the lady was exactly as she appeared? It was too early to tell, she concluded. “I accept your invitation Lady Bethany,” she smiled faintly, choosing to remain open to the unfolding possibilities.

“Oh wonderful!” Bethany practically burst with joy, giving their joined hands an affectionate squeeze to emphasize her pleasure. She directed a playful, victorious glance at her cousin, as though she had outsmarted him in a silent game. “See, I knew he couldn’t hinder us, no matter how hard he tried,” she declared, her tone tinged with lighthearted triumph.

The king’s smile hinted at resignation, as he acknowledged, “Yes, I stand no chance. Go ahead, have your secrets and your plots.” His eyes remained on his wife for a moment longer, and he added gently, “I’ll see you later this evening.”

In response, Laviniya offered a warm, quiet smile, her eyes locking onto his for a moment before they parted ways.

Laviniya took notice of the exchange, filing it away in her mind. When she thought of all those closest to the king, including Lord Martyn, she realized that this fair lady seemed to be the only one who behaved without restraint and fear in his presence. There was a sense of complete ease, suggesting that she did not perceive him as a threat in any way.

In the king’s behaviour, too, Laviniya noted a certain unexpected softness that she hadn’t perceived before. He had displayed both cordiality and charisma, but the kind of casual familiarity he shared with his cousin was a novelty. Indeed, the bonds of Hightower blood seemed to run deeper and more affectionate for him in a way that differed from the Targaryen ties.

With a warm smile, the fair lady linked arms with Laviniya, guiding her through the entryway and into the inner passageways of the castle. A few discreetly stationed guards followed at a respectful distance, their presence a silent, protective constant.

Lady Bethany spoke with a soft, sympathetic tone, her words laden with empathy. “I can hardly fathom the difficulties you’ve faced since being taken away from the Runestones,” she delicately ventured. There was a hint of concern and kindness in her voice as she inquired, “How are you handling it? Is there anything I can do to assist you?”

“It was an harrowing experience,” Laviniyas ppurple eyes lit with gratitude as she appreciated the Lady Bethany’s show of sympathy. “Thankyou for offering your favour. I’ve come to make peace with what has happened along the way.”

Even those closest to him appeared to harbor an acute awareness of his true nature. As she walked beside her future cousin-by-marriage, Laviniya briefly mused in silence. She could no longer count on speaking freely, knowing that anything she said now risked being overheard and potentially reported. Despite this realization, she dared to pose a hushed question, “Do you believe it could become worse?”

Her lilac eyes were cast downward, fixed on the intricate patterns of the flooring as her features took on a solemn, contemplative expression. She understood the importance of appearing genuine, and she did not want to force an impenetrable facade of resilience. After all, it would be both implausible and unrealistic to try and maintain such a pretence.

Laviniya recognized that the eyes of the court would soon be upon her, so it seemed prudent to come across as a vulnerable, pitiful young woman rather than a shrewd seductress. Of course, even if she were forced to pretend to love him, she could not entirely forsake all reservations and caution.

Lady Bethany’s expression turned perplexed as she glanced at her companion, confusion knitting her features. “What is it that will worsen?” she inquired, tilting her head to study Laviniya closely, “I was speaking of the terrifying assassination attempt and assault on the king at the inn. Surely, you weren’t referring to the king’s conduct, were you?”

Realization dawned upon Laviniya; had she inadvertently insulted the lady Bethany? But Bethany betrayed no offense, instead breaking into gentle giggles, her free hand lifting to cover her mouth in a gesture of polite restraint. She playfully smacked Laviniya’s arm.

“No, no, of course,” Bethany quickly assured her, through a wide smile, “I understand entirely. He can indeed be quite an impatient mongrel when handling matters. Negotiations with your family in the Runestones could have yielded the same result, but no, he had to resort to kidnapping you, behaving like a despicable highwayman.” Her voice held a hint of amusement as she added, “It is most unbecoming. I can only imagine his behaviour during this past week. I don’t blame you for attempting to kill him.”

Laviniya blinked. Her lips parted. Yet again made speechless by Lady Bethany.

Lady Bethany appeared slightly sheepish as she tightened her grip on Laviniya’s arm, her expression full of genuine concern. “Oh, how rude of me,” she gently chided herself. “I shouldn’t jest about something so serious. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?” Her voice held a note of sincere regret, a hint of worry that she would be misinterpreted. “You mustn’t think I am callous to your circumstances,” she quickly assured her. “Quite the opposite, dear!”

“I had meant in general,” Laviniya concurred, her smile taking on a hint of contrition. “But yes, it includes His Majesty as well.” She added, a trace of apology in her expression, as though she found it difficult to keep these critical musings even in this particular company, yet she also would not completely deny her thoughts.

Laviniya looked genuinely concerned, her free hand reaching out to offer gentle reassurance. Her head shook lightly as she sought to dispel any notion of offense. “Please don’t worry,” she insisted, her voice soft yet earnest. “I would very much like to be friends with you all, but it seems there’s still so much for me to comprehend.”

“I anticipate I might commit further blunders. Will you, in turn, find it in your heart to forgive me?” Her eyes sought Bethany’s, her lips curving into a tentative smile.

Lady Bethany genuinely appeared taken aback, her eyes igniting with a spark of guilt. She conjured another softer smile as she responded, “You’re being too kind, Lady Laviniya. There’s nothing to forgive.” Her tone held a hint of genuine remorse, the realization of a shared responsibility for the situation sinking in. “The fault lies with all of us, for whisking you away so suddenly and expecting you to adapt to such unforeseen circumstances.” Her voice exuded a genuine admiration as she confessed, “I must say, I’m quite impressed by your resilience. I would not take it so well, if it had happened to me.”

Obviously, if such an ordeal had befallen the king’s Hightower cousin, he would likely have unleashed a trail of carnage across the entirety of the continent, but that was besides the point.

“Indeed, we must wholeheartedly forgive one another through it all,” Lady Bethany proclaimed, her tone warm and pleasant. “I’m truly delighted that we share a similar mindset. I too would very much like to be friends, and together we can surely navigate through this troubling period.” She concluded, her voice taking on a conspiratorial note, “And of course, we must join forces if we hope to reign in my cousin’s rather questionable tendencies.”

Lady Laviniya resisted the urge to react more visibly. Lady Bethany’s light-hearted tone made the king’s “questionable tendencies” sound almost comical, but then again, perhaps there was a grain of truth in her words. The Runestones soiree, Ser Corwyns death, the inn, and the carriage ride in flea bottom... It was undeniable that his ruthless nature sometimes bordered on absurd insanity.

Laviniya also realized that Bethany had not directly answered her initial question, whether it was purposeful or not. However, it didn’t take a great leap of deduction for her to deduce the likely answer.

Just as Lady Laviniya was about to reply, the hallway came to an end, marked by a pair of double doors. Standing guard on either side were two guards clad in armor, who promptly moved to open the doors for them.

Lady Bethany led the way into the room, summoning one of her maids with a confident gesture, “Mariya,” she commanded. “Please convey my deepest apologies to Lady Genevieve, and assure her that I will make it up to her tomorrow.”

Mariya nodded her understanding, curtsied, and swiftly took her leave. Lady Bethany proceeded into the elaborate chambers, gesturing for Laviniya to follow. Laviniya observed the elegant surroundings decorated with a touch of extravagance, the room spacious and opulent with its size and depth. Lady Bethany’s choice of portraits and furnishings reflected her slightly whimsical yet somewhat progressive taste, although still within the bounds of decency and propriety.

The maids escorted Lady Laviniya and Lady Bethany to a table situated in the centre of the room and pulled out their seats. The maids then placed cups and a pot of tea at the table’s centre for them to pour and drink.

Lady Bethany perched daintily onto her chair, adjusting her skirts primly. “It was still quite perplexing, even for him, he usually isn’t so...unorganised.” she remarked, her gaze shifting towards Laviniya. “You must have truly captured his attention.”

Laviniya calmly took her seat, placing her hands in her lap and focused her full attention on the lady. Despite the heavy thoughts that weighed her down, she managed to conceal it flawlessly. While avoiding the revealing of her recognition was a strategic choice, it also served as a necessary measure to prevent herself from faltering at every shocking revelation she discovered within this foreign and seemingly barbarous kingdom. To safeguard her own mental state, she had already begun the process of mentally disassociating herself from the unpleasant realities lurking within these walls.

Despite the turmoil of her thoughts, she displayed great skill in returning to the pretense of a pleasant conversation. “I believe convenience played a role,” she mused, reflecting on the importance of Vale. “In hindsight, he probably wouldn’t have been so hasty to commit this endeavour if I were not of Valyrian blood.”

Lady Bethany began to shake her head, though her smile widened with amusement at the jest. “Well, you’re right,” she admitted, her voice laced with a touch of levity. “Pragmatic motivations do indeed play a part in marriages. Aemond, in particular, is undoubtedly guided by a sense of practicality. However, he would not have rushed into this decision solely based on convenience. I’m quite certain that there must be something exceptional about you. After all, you are the traitors daughter with the balls to try to kill him and live through it.”

Laviniya felt her throat bob. There it was. That sting.

Bethany bit into a crunchy biscuit.

“Speaking of balls, we should consider hosting a ball here, perhaps for your wedding announcement,” Lady Bethany proposed, her smile warm and hospitable. “It’s the very least we could do to make amends for the disruption of your previous one. And perhaps your family could join us? I imagine you would like to see them.” Her words held an implicit confidence. “I must confess that my cousin, the king, is not particularly fond of balls,” she revealed, her tone laced with mild amusement. “He prefers other entertainments, as you may imagine. However, I believe I can persuade him to make an exception.” She added, her voice taking on a more diplomatic tone, “It would undeniably be in our best interest to strengthen our alliance through a more formal display of unity.”

The mere mention of her family ignited a maelstrom of anxiety within her. Her heart quickened, and her thoughts whirled as she envisioned their imminent visit. Her family was going to witness her in this state—bound to that man, and compelled to feign admiration for him. They would see firsthand what her carelessness and misplaced trust had wrought, and she couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of shame. Even if the position of Queen Consort of Westeros was, in theory, an honourable one, the reality weighed heavily on her conscience.

Lady Laviniya’s nervous laughter escaped softly through her lips. “Perhaps a bit more time apart might help ease the pain,” she suggested sheepishly. “My elderly cousin and my younger cousin are a bit... well, they have a tendency to say things that can be seen as offensive.”” She gestured awkwardly with her hands, struggling to find the right words to express just how problematic this situation was, finally finishing with a helpless shrug, “You understand, don’t you...?”

The thought of any of her family visiting this realm was too much, too soon. They were not prepared, and neither was she. However badly she may have desired to see them, it was evident that this was not the right moment.

Perhaps it would be better if some more distant cousins were to attend, such as Lady Jeyne of the Vale. The Lady Jeyne was known for enjoying social gatherings and parties. She could come, and everyone would have a fine time without putting her family in jeopardy.

Lady Laviniya attempted to hide her growing unease, plastering a strained smile on her face as she tried to maintain the conversation. “Regardless, Lady Bethany, It is most generous of you to suggest,” she said, her voice steady but laced with a hint of tension. “I hope to write to them and pass along your warm welcoming hospitality.”

Lady Bethany gave her a sympathetic smile, silently understanding the depth beneath the surface explanation. “Of course, of course,” she murmured in agreement. Bowls of soup and bread were placed in front of both the ladies. Bethany’s green eyes darted down to her spoon as she idly swirled it around in her soup. “Whenever you’re ready, do let me know,” she continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ll ensure they’re properly received.” Her eyebrows lifted slightly, hinting at the secret plan she was slowly beginning to hatch in her mind.

Laviniya wondered if the questions were intentionally asked by Lady Bethany, but it didn’t matter. She was still able to answer without being dishonest, in her own way. The answer came easily to her lips, in response to the questions a normal cousin-in-law might have considered taboo. First, she needed to swallow her spoonful of soup, then she replied in a casual tone, “Your cousin, he...pretended to be your brother, Martyn Hightower. He... intrigued me before he kidnapped me. I held a lot of resentment against him for it. He has done awful things in front of me, he murdered an innocent knight... But no, I don’t hate him....it is hard to hate.”

Bethany’s face barely changed, unalarmed by Laviniya’s words.

“To hold onto something like hatred can be more exhausting than it’s worth, especially when we’re talking about someone like him,” Laviniya said thoughtfully. The phrase ‘someone like him’ was not intended as a rebuke, nor did it necessarily allude solely to his less amicable traits; how else could one accurately describe him? While Laviniya may have appeared to let her guard down in response to her host’s affectionate kindness, not once did she forget on whose territory she was seated. Every word she spoke could still reach his ears, and she was aware of this. And, of course, keeping her distance from him hadn’t altered her determination to overtly “love” him.

“How kind of you,” giggled Bethany, her smile not entirely genuine this time, “You are precious indeed.”

Laviniya returned the smile with a strained grin. Her mind briefly flitted at how effortlessly and silently the room could fall into a hush. She tried to grasp something—anything—to prolong their chatter. She ruminated over dragons but discarded the thought almost instantly; it seemed unlikely that Lady Bethany would possess any knowledge about them. And then, it dawned on her: wyverns.

“Lady Bethany,” Laviniya cleared her throat, “What did you mean earlier by the kings wyvern?”

Lady Bethany’s eyes fluttered, her hand found its way to her pregnant stomach. “Oh...my cousin hasn’t mentioned them?” she questioned with a clenched jaw, her expression reflecting her unease. She took a slow, steadying breath, trying to compose herself. Her hand then slowly slid down from her belly.

“The wyverns are the dragonseed bastard women of Valyrian descent,” she explained deliberately. “They are the king’s... concubines, if you will.” Lady Bethany paused, her throat bobbing as she swallowed, before continuing in a measured tone. “Women he attempted to impregnate to expand the Targaryen bloodline,” she added, her voice thick with discomfort.

Aemomd had mentioned dragonseed women he laid with but not in this way...

“...Are they still...at court?” Laviniya dared to ask.

Lady Bethany chuckled lightly, adding, “Many of the dragonseed women have been assigned to be your personal handmaidens, Lady Laviniya. Most will be helping you prepare for your wedding day.” She then raised a spoonful of soup to her lips and took a dainty sip.

A bead of perspiration began to form at the back of Laviniya’s slender neck as she processed this revelation. She wondered if some of the dragonseed women were some of those she had recently come to know, who had already seen her bare and made comments—compliments, albeit flattering—about her form. The thought of having to engage in conversations with these women, these courtesans, these glorified mistresses the king had taken to his bed, filled her with a sense of dread and discomfort. And then it really hit her....would the king continue to bed with these women. Would she have to share the cock of the Dragon King with these women who could have been her aunts cousins, even sisters...

“Does the king still... Attend to these wyvern women?” Laviniya asked, her breath growing short as an unfamiliar, sickening feeling took root in the pit of her stomach. This anger, though unvoiced, was not directed at the king, but rather at the faceless women who shared his affections. It was an emotion she had only experienced towards Rhaella and Baella, two sisters she never had met but knew held Daemons favour. This feeling, it gnawed at her with a potency she could hardly recognize. it was jealousy.

Bethany’s lips parted to answer, “The king —”

The doorway swung open abruptly, interrupting her mid-sentence and causing the young woman to startle a little in her seat. Two boisterous young boys stormed into the room, their joyful shrieks announcing their arrival as they made a beeline for Lady Bethany with unabashed gaiety.

“You little rascals!” Bethany exclaimed affectionately as the pair pounced on her, but her eyes sparkled with contentment as she gathered them onto her lap. They were both on the diminutive side, with one appearing slightly older than the other, and their heads were full of golden-hued curls. Their sun-kissed skin stood in stark contrast to Lady Bethany’s paler complexion.

Held close in her embrace, the children’s resemblance to their mother was immediately apparent. Their eyes were a brilliant shade of blue, mirroring hers, and their noses shared the same distinctive little flare.

Lady Bethany chuckled, saying, “I thought Jaehaera was supposed to be playing with you both.”

“I was,” Jaehaera responded, appearing in the doorway and slightly out of breath. The girl’s hair shone like silvery moonlight, and her eyes... her eyes were a striking shade of purple. Laviniya drew a sharp breath, noticing that the girl’s eyes mirrored her own. Jaehaera, who appeared to be no more than nine years old, was far less boisterous than the other children, but her face was filled with a wide grin as she crossed her arms.

“But they were too fast to catch!” the girl admitted in a light tone.

“I should have known!” Bethany chuckled, snuggling the children closer to her swollen belly. After a moment, she looked back to Laviniya apologetically. “Please forgive me, my lady—they caught me off guard entirely! These are my sons,” she explained proudly. “This one here is the eldest, Jaethan,” she indicated, tapping the boy sitting nearest her lap, “and the younger is Montegon.”

Laviniya’s gaze flicked from the tiny children to their mother and back again, her eyebrows furrowing in mild bewilderment. Then, without warning, she erupted into a fit of amused laughter, immediately attempting to smother it with the back of her hand. “I’m terribly sorry –“ she choked out between giggles, “I just hadn’t expected – they’re so very small. And ever so darling.”

It was somewhat humorous how the young boys suddenly clambered onto her, and how Lady Bethany had almost leaped out of her chair. Laviniya smiled graciously as she extended her hand to the children, appearing both charmed and slightly perplexed. “It’s very nice to meet you,” she repeated, her voice soft yet warm.

Lady Bethany gestured for the girl to draw closer as well, and she obliged. “And this is Princess Jaehaera,” she said, her voice faltering a little in that moment. Her gaze flicked across the table before continuing in a gentler tone, “Niece to King Aemond.”

Laviniya couldn’t help but dart a more attentive glance back at the girl, her curiosity piqued. Jaehaera lowered her eyes in response, a faint flush of colour appearing on her cheeks, as if anticipating some kind of evaluation. Though she was young, the girl was undoubtedly familiar with being the only living legitimate Targaryen child.

It wouldn’t have been an unusual reaction for Laviniya to display curiosity, given the circumstances. Yet it was pity that primarily gripped the young woman’s emotions. The reigning king might be cruel, but Jaehaera, as his innocent niece, was without blame.

And so, after a few moments, all that she summoned was a kind smile. Laviniya slowly rose from the table and made her way around to Jaehaera. Laviniya pinched the skirts of her purple dress and curtsied.

“Your highness,” Laviniya greeted, “I am most honour to make your acquaintance. My name is Laviniya Targaryen.”

Jaehaeras little lips parted. The girl peeked shyly at Laviniya, a glimmer of surprise sparked in her little lilac eyes. She stared some more, before belatedly answering with a quick nod of her head, “Lady Laviniya,” she curtsied sweetly.

Laviniya realised that the girl and her were wearing similar dresses, both the same shade of purple. She had never seen someone that had looked like her in such a child like form since the days of her own youth staring in a mirror.

Lady Bethany observed silently as Laviniya approached Jaehaera, and if she wasn’t mistaken, a faint hint of respect briefly flickered across her features. Lady Bethany smiled once more, murmuring, “Jaehaera dear, do you recall what I said? About your uncle someday marrying?”

“The Lady Vivienne?” the girl mumbled, toeing the space of floor between them.

Bethany shook her head, “No dear, not that beast, your uncle is to marry Lady Laviniya. She is to be your aunt and Queen.”

The children’s stares intensified further as they regarded her with interest. Montegon innocently piped up, “Were you born a queen?”

“That’s not how it works,” Jaethan retorted with a dismissive snort.

“And how would you know?” Montegon shot back.

But Jaethan was resolute. “Because I pay attention in my lessons!” he asserted confidently.

“Oh, settle down, both of you,” Lady Bethany commanded affectionately, gently admonishing the young boys with her fingers. “Laviniya was born a fair lady, but your dear uncle, the King, has chosen her to be Queen, that’s the way of it.”

Laviniya smiled patiently, trying her best to keep her composure while Lady Bethany’s attention was momentarily redirected towards her lively sons. Despite her efforts, her own mind was consumed by a maelstrom of thoughts and anxieties, her emotions swirling chaotically.

Occasionally, when no one was watching, Princess Jaehaera made a timid attempt to steal surreptitious glances in her direction, perhaps in an attempt to catch her eye for whatever reason.

With a graceful motion, she folded her napkin and gently placed it on the table, signaling the conclusion of her main course, even if much of her soup remained untouched.

Laviniya glanced back to the princess and decided to make a bold move. She crouched despite the unlady fashion of it, town so that she could be eye to eye with the young Targaryen Princess. She smiled and felt her mouth hesitate, trying to seek the words.

Laviniya’s words, though direct, carried a calm air of composure. “Jaehaera, I may not be your mother,” she began, speaking to the girl in a tone that sought to establish a certain level of equality between them, or perhaps it was due to the fact that the young woman was not quite experienced in dealing with children.

Laviniya’s voice remained tranquil as she continued, her tone gentle yet sincere. “But... I would like for you to feel at ease enough around me to disregard formality whenever we interact. If something is troubling you, please feel free to come to me whenever you need. We can be friends, sweet girl. Call me by my name if you wish to, and don’t feel like you must maintain any formalities. Right now, I may not be a queen, and even when I am, I doubt I will ever truly feel like one.”

She certainly didn’t feel as though she was genuinely engaged as of yet; rather, it seemed she had been cast in the role of simply a...pet. While the life of an pet was not always without honor, she saw no need to pretend to be more than she truly was, especially in the opening stages of this union.

For a few moments, Jaehaera continued to observe Laviniya in silence. There was an undeniable resemblance between her and the king, despite her lighter hair and softer features. Her bright lilac eyes, however, held a familiar quality of quiet intelligence. Her voice was soft as she finally spoke up. “I would like to be friends,” she said. Curiosity flickered in her expression, and she inquired further, “But why don’t you think you’ll ever feel like a queen?”

“Well, it’s all quite new, you know,” Lady Bethany chimed in good-naturedly. “If you suddenly became a queen right now, wouldn’t you need some time to adjust to it?”

The princess Jaehaera nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose so,” she responded, contemplating the idea.

“I understand that everything might feel quite abrupt and confusing,” Lady Bethany acknowledged, now addressing Laviniya. “I don’t blame you for feeling this way. However, I’m certain you’ll soon feel like a queen. I have a feeling that the upcoming wedding will assist in this transition, even if it will be a small affair, and perhaps not many guests will be present to pay their respects to you,” she mused. “But rest assured, my dear, you will indeed be a queen.”

Lady Bethany’s enthusiasm brought mixed feelings to Laviniya. “Thank you,” she replied, attempting to maintain composure. Though sincerity laced her tone, she didn’t entirely feel at ease at the mention of tomorrow’s wedding. On another day, perhaps, Lady Bethany’s exuberance might have sent her into a dizzying spiral. However, in that moment, it seemed somewhat endearing, offering a stark contrast to Aemond’s distinctly Aemond-ness.

“And that was a splendid idea, about discarding formalities,” Lady Bethany exclaimed. “We should all become the dearest friends!” she continued, her smile widening. “And please, my dear, do call me Bethany,” she added, catching Laviniya’s eye with a warm expression.

“Can we call you Bethany?” Jaethan asked curiously, his words a little garbled by his mouthful of food.

Lady Bethany gently reprimanded her son, “No, silly, I’m your mother.”

Spotting Jaehaera eyeing the remaining food, Lady Bethany gestured for her to come forward. “Are you still hungry, my sweet? You never eat enough. Come, try some of this soup– it’s absolutely delicious.”

The little girl shook her head, “N-no thankyou, Lady Bethany.”

The memory of the Dragon stew once again entered Laviniya’s mind, stirring a queasy feeling in her stomach. She thought back to the story Aemond had shared of that night and glanced at the bowls of soup. It became clear that the girl must have been pondering that unsettling event as well.

Turning to Jaehaera, a gentle smile on her face, Laviniya repeated her question, “Since soup doesn’t seem all that appealing, would you prefer some bread and jam instead, my dear? I’m very sure I can ask one of the maids to bring some for you.”

Jaehaera’s eyes glittered with excitement, and a huge smile graced her lips, but before she could respond to Laviniya’s question, their conversation was cut short as a knock echoed from the door. After a brief moment, the door swung open, allowing a member of the royal servants to enter.

The familiar figure of the King entered the room, his words carrying a pleasant tone as he remarked, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

His presence triggered a series of reactions from those present. The guards immediately stood at attention, and the servants, in the middle of busying about and clearing away dishes, promptly lowered their gazes.

The children responded to the sight of Aemond with excitement, their youthful voices chiming together in unison.

“Uncle Aemond!” they exclaimed, struggling to free themselves from Lady Bethany’s grasp. With a mix of clumsiness and elegance, they scurried toward the king, their small arms eagerly reaching out to embrace him.

“My, have you lads grown a bit taller?” the king chuckled, lifting the boys with ease and balancing them on his arms, encircling himself in a sea of cheerful energy. With joyful grins, the boys grasped onto his broad shoulders for support. Lady Bethany observed the scene with easy affection, her heart warmed by the endearing sight of it.

The sight of the king, enveloped in the joyful embrace of children, stood in stark contrast to any notion of him being responsible for acts of atrocity or genocide. It painted a picture that was, by all accounts, quintessentially and absurdly ordinary.

This contradiction seemed to baffle Laviniya. Her gaze turned into one of blatant confusion, as if the very fabric of reason crumpled at the sight of this seemingly unrealistic depiction of his character.

“I’ve definitely grown taller than you, Montegon,” Jaethan declared confidently, as if eager to assert his superior height.

Montogon, however, was quick to respond, “But I’m still the tallest,” he said, almost overshadowing his brother’s words. Both boys tried to outdo each other in a friendly competition of stature.

Aemond chuckled lightly, his eyes flickering between the two boys. “Hmm. I suppose we’ll have to measure you both to be absolutely certain. We can’t just go off hearsay now, can we?”

He then glanced at Jaehaera, and she grinned up at him, her expression mirroring the joy of her cousins.

Jaehaera belatedly dropped into a curtsy that was a touch awkward, her movements betraying a hint of uncertainty. Her eyes darted momentarily toward Lady Bethany, acknowledging the lessons received from her, before returning to address Aemond. “Kepa,” she said with a polite dip of her head.

“ñuhi dārilaros dārōñe Jaehaera gaomagon,” You behave so formally, my princess Jaehaera, Aemond teased, bouncing his nephews high into the air, eliciting squeals of surprise from them. With a smile, he set them down and then extended his arms to Jaehaera, motioning for her to come forward.

“Imāzigon,” Come here, he beckoned warmly.

A slight hesitation flickered across Jaehaera’s face, but then, with a sudden burst of exuberance, she abandoned all attempts at maintaining decorum and sprinted straight into Aemond’s arms. With a giggle, she wrapped hers around his neck, hugging him tightly.

Holding her at arm’s length, Aemond carefully observed Jaehaera, a smile playing on his lips. “A pāsagon Bōsa ūbriljagon,” I think you’ve grown taller too, he teased, a hint of pride in his voice. “Kessa drīves.” Yes, definitely.

He examined her with affectionate scrutiny, noting the subtle but noticeable growth she had undergone.

Jaehaera mumbke, a small smile playing on her lips, ““Kepa Aerēbagon bōsa tha gaomagon.” You’ve only been gone a little while.

Aemond feigned disbelief, playfully pursing his lips before leaning in and tickling her under her chin, causing her to giggle uncontrollably.

He picked her up and balanced her onto his hip, pressing his nose to hers as he continued to talk to the princess in high Valyrian.

“Urnen rhaenagon aōla tosh sir ñuhi māzīlare ābrazȳrys, jeva māzīlare dāria,” I see you’ve all been acquainting yourselves with my future wife, your future queen, he noted. He then leaned down to whisper to Jaehaera, a smile on his lips as he asked, “Ñuhi Jaehaera, Skoros otāpā zȳha?” My Jaehaera, what do you think of her?

The princess was delighted, nuzzling her shy face into his neck as she whispered into his ear, “Litse sesir manda ziry otāpā.” I think she is beautiful and kind.

He hummed with a smile and kissed her soft rosy cheek, “Urnen otāpā lua kessa.” I think so too. And nuzzled their noses before placing her back on the ground.

Aemond resumed his standing height and directed his attention to the two women seated at the dinner table. He observed them, adding playfully, “I see you’ve become acquainted with the future queen. Such sly politicians you are.”

He then addressed Laviniya directly, his tone laced with affectionate teasing. “Have my miniature kin been well-behaved, or have they been causing any trouble?”

A natural smile appeared on Laviniya’s lips, betraying her calm demeanor. “Aside from surprising me, they were the bright light of my day,” she responded smoothly. “All of them,” she added happily.

“I am lighter than Jaethan,” Montegon declared, without pausing to really consider his statement.

Jaethan shot him a look. “That’s not – that’s not what ‘light’ means,” he protested, momentarily stuck for words. However, he quickly started to second-guess himself, turning to Aemond, seeking his wisdom as the ultimate arbiter of truth.

The King with his attention on the children, his warm smile returning. “Neither of you are wrong,” he reassured them. Aemond leaned down, his hand gently tousling Jaethan’s locks, the action filled with a deep affection befitting an attentive and loving relative.

The King continued to address the boys, explaining further: “Words can indeed carry multiple meanings. Montegon is correct that ‘light’ can mean the opposite of ‘heavy��. But Lady Laviniya used it in a more poetic sense, to convey that you brought her great happiness and cheer. Isn’t it gracious of her to say so?”

“So, it’s good to be lighter,” Jaethan responded to Montegon, who scrunched up his nose in response.

Bethany chimed in, her voice cheerful and enthusiastic. “She truly is kind!” she exclaimed. “I must admit, if you had to...” She paused, carefully skirting around the word, mindful of the presence of both polite company and the children. “If you had to find a queen, you couldn’t have chosen better!”

Aemond chuckled at the boys, his tone tinged with a hint of irony. “I’m delighted to hear that you’re all getting along so splendidly,” he replied.

Montegon, ever the curious one, then turned to his uncle. “Uncle, how did you find her?”

Laviniya almost glared at the king before recalled whose presence she was in. Would he tell them the truth? How he kidnapped her and refused to let her go home?

The King let out a short chuckle, his tone a touch enigmatic. “That’s a long story,” he replied, his words laced with a hint of mystery. Sensing the children’s heightened curiosity, he swiftly added, “A story for another day.”

To pre-emptively quell their impending barrage of queries, Aemond chose to divert their attention. “Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, his tone taking on a note of excitement. “I’ve brought some sweets for all of you.”

“All of us?” Jaethan repeated, his voice filled with anticipation as his excitement took hold. Any previous thoughts vanished from his mind, replaced by the delightful promise of presents.

Bethany leaned in, speaking in a hushed tone to Laviniya. “He spoils them rotten,” she noted, though her smile betrayed her fondness for the King’s indulgent nature.

He retrieve a napkin and unfolded it to reveal a bundle of sweets.

The sweets, as it turned out, were hard boiled candies. “These are sweets from the Vale, the place Laviniya called home,” the King explained, as he handed one to each of them – a strawberry one for Jaethan, a watermelon one for Montegon, and a orange one for Jaehaera.

The children all popped them into their mouths, suckling hard on the sweet sugary treats.

The king offered her one too.

The children made an awkwardly endearing company, a stark contrast to her still fresh and uncomfortable adjustment to the implications of her forced engagement and the ominous threats hanging over her. It seemed almost improper that his familial bonds could be so effortlessly cheerful and untroubled, as if the world had suddenly lost its complexity and darkness.

She delicately pinched one, an apple flavoured one. Trying her best not to glare daggers at him.

“Mmm, these are simply delectable,” Bethany concurred, savoring an orange sweet and leaning over her sons to get a closer look. She chuckled. “I can’t imagine you enjoying those, Aemond.” She then turned to Laviniya, a friendly smile on her lips. “Have you tried a crownland mint sweet before, my lady?”

She shook her head, “Not yet.”

“Come Laviniya,” the king finally reached down to her hand, “The hour begins to wane and grow late, with such a big day, I trust in the wisdom that we should all retire early.”

“You’re leaving?” Jaehaera asked, her voice tinged with disappointment, the boys visibly pouting behind her. Aemond, radiating benevolence, smiled softly at them. “Don’t look so dismayed, children. You’ll see plenty of Laviniya and I tomorrow, I am sure,” he reassured them. “But you should be off to bed soon. Have you not stayed up late enough?”

“Oh yes!” Bethany chimed in, realization dawning on her face. “You’re clearly way past your bedtimes, all of you. Such mischievous little ones you are.” She picked up her handkerchief, gesturing for Jaehaera to come closer so she could wipe her face. The younger girl complied, though reluctantly.

Bethany then turned to Laviniya, a cheerful smile on her lips. “It was lovely meeting you, Laviniya. We must absolutely do this again.”

“Goodnight, Bethany,” Laviniya replied, her tone sincere and genuine. “Meeting you has actually made me feel... more at ease. About everything.”

She offered a warm smile, grateful for the unexpected sense of comfort and ease that conversing with Bethany had brought.

Bethany beamed at Laviniya, a delighted expression on her face. “Say goodnight, children,” she instructed, attempting to coax a more polite response from the boys.

Montegon, ever the mischievous one, responded with a snarky reply. “Goodnight, children,” he repeated, to his mother’s dismay.

Bethany shook her head, a mixture of amusement and annoyance on her face. “Must you always be so cheeky?”

As she prepared to leave with Aemond, Laviniya was abruptly halted by the weight of a small body slamming into her side. Startled, she glanced down to find Jaehaera’s hands grasping her sides, and the child’s face burying into her belly, just below her breasts.

Laviniya was momentarily taken aback, her eyes widening as Jaehaera murmured, “Bantis geros ilas Laviniya.”Goodnight Laviniya

Laviniya’s eyes widened in surprise, and then softened at the innocent affection. Rather guessing the unfamiliar language, she gently patted Jaehaera’s head and replied, “Bantis geros ilas, Jaehaera.” Goodnight Jaehaera

Her thumb ran across the girls forehead, she bent down and placed the softest kiss there.

“Bantis geros ilas, Kepa.” Goodnight Uncle, Jaehaera said to the King, parting away from Laviniya. Aemond replied, “Bantis geros ilas, Jaehaera.” Goodnight Jaehaera

The couple left the children and lady Bethany peacefully with the doors closing behind them in departure.

★★★★

Aemond slowly walked her to hers which was not too far away. Around on a corner or so.

As the two walked, Aemond murmured, “I... appreciate your kindness towards the princess Jaehaera, despite the circumstances.”

Laviniya’s eyes narrowed as she responded, firm and resolute, “Of course, she is a child, and it is not her fault nor her place to bear the consequences of your wrongdoings and cruelty.”

Her words hung in the air, a subtle reproof laced with a hint of righteous defiance. His lips tightened, his throat bobbed, his eye was hard, pointed at her. He opened the door to her rooms and kissed her forehead, beckoning her inside. It would be her worst mistake.

He gazed at her, his expression earnest. “I know it’s soon, our marriage, little lamb,” he acknowledged. “But I assure you, this situation will be safer for you in the long run.” He paused, considering his words carefully, a faintly amused smile playing on his lips. “There are those who long for the position you currently hold, and they are not without their own dangerous motives and intentions.”

Who? His whores? His wyvern women?

Aemond reached into his pocket and produced a heavy bronze key, which he held aloft between his fingers. “You will be safer in your own chambers,” he explained, offering the key to the knight Ser Gilbar, who stepped forth and accepted it. “Ser Gilbar will guard this key with his life; no one will be able to access your room without my knowledge or consent.”

“Ser Gilbar,” he commanded loudly, “please ensure Lady Laviniya is securely locked inside her room. Under no circumstances should you open the doors for anyone who has not been approved by me directly.”

Before Laviniya could protest or leave the room, the doors slammed shut in her face, trapping her inside the unfamiliar space. Her heart dropped and her fists began drumming against the wood of the doors helplessly.

𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒:

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬. 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬.

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hiraeth-witch-11 · 2 years ago

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Bond to Happen Part 7

Part 7: Team Bonding

Warnings: fantastical racism, Billy Russo, thoughts of death?

Word Count: 3600 ish

Billy regularly invited you out to lunch with the team, something you usually said no to. Eating around so many people was overwhelming. You preferred the relative quiet of your office.

“Come on, Blue, it’s good team building to spend some time outside the office with some of the people you work with. You’ll at least like Josie, and you know I’m always good company.” Russo winks at you.

“Hah, you’re funny, Russo.” You continue ignoring his pleas, pretending to work on a report you’d finished yesterday.

“What’s it gonna take to get you to come?” He asks, leaning against the door frame and looking distractingly beautiful as always in his black 3 piece suit.

You pause and sigh. “I’ll come this time if you stop asking me in the future.”

Billy considers it. “Counter offer: I ask you once a week.”

“A month.”

“Once every two weeks and your acknowledgement that it is a standing offer and you are always welcome.”

“Deal.”

He tilts his head, as if waiting for you to say something.

“What?”

“I’m just waiting for you to say it.” He crosses his arms and you roll your eyes.

“I, Blue, do formally acknowledge the standing invitation to lunch.” You roll your eyes.

“And?” He prompts, arching an eyebrow.

“Gods you’re annoying sometimes,” you mutter under your breath. Of course he hears you, the man must have enhanced hearing of some sort.

“I prefer ‘persistent’, and I’m still waiting.” He grins.

“And I am always welcome,” you concede, shaking your head slightly at his antics.

“That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” He mocks.

“You’re paying for my food, Russo. And I’m sitting by you,” you add as an afterthought. Better to have his calming aura as a safety cushion than to be sandwiched between two normal ones. You stand and make your way around the desk.

“I knew you couldn’t resist my charms.” He smirks.

“You’re just the lesser evil, Russo. Don’t flatter yourself. Now move. You’re taking up the whole doorway.”

The diner was nearby and surprisingly empty for this time of day. It was really on you and the handful of Anvil employees who had been free for lunch hour today.

“What sort of a name is Blue?” A woman- Bethany- you correct yourself, asks.

“I’m not a fan of my legal name so I prefer to go by nicknames. Blame Frank if you don’t like it.” Frank didn’t often come to these sorts of things. He kept himself busy and only came when he truly had nothing else to do. So, in true Frank fashion, he wasn’t here today.

“I’m glad you came out with us, Blue, it’ll be good to get to know you better,” Josie offers kindly. Her hair is a warm brown color and you’ve only ever seen her with it up in a tight bun. She’s a team lead and your favorite new coworker. Besides Russo, but you’d never tell him that.

“I’m just here for the food,” you joke awkwardly. Billy swoops in and starts a conversation about something, a sport, you think. You’re not paying attention. Instead you’re focused on the loud buzz of everyone’s energy. You pull your magic as tightly inward as you can, subconsciously leaning towards Russo. You’re present enough to smile and nod at the right time, and you order a simple burger and fries.

“You don’t like pickles?” Russo asks you as he watches you pick them off your burger and isolate them on your plate away from the other food.

“No,” you say, wrinkling your nose. “Do you?”

“Yup, love ‘em,” he laughs at the face you make and your stomach flips at the noise.

“Help yourself then.” You turn your plate so the pickles are facing him. He doesn’t even put them on his own burger, he eats them plain. “Why anyone would ruin a perfectly good cucumber to make a monstrosity is beyond me.”

He shakes his head at you and the interaction sparks a debate across the table.

“I don’t like them either,” Josie says.

“You’re my new favorite, Jo,” you say.

“I’ve been replaced?” Billy asks, pretending offense.

“You were never in the running, Frank was first. But he eats pickles too, and relish, and literally anything because he has no standards when it comes to food,” you lament.

“My sister always eats my pickles for me whenever we’re together,” Josie shares.

“Mine did too,” you grin at the memory before your face falls.

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Josie says.

“I, uh, don’t. Anymore.”

The table is uncomfortably quiet. You don’t know what prompts you to share, but you add, “Not everyone is happy to find out their family member is a witch.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Russo offers, sounding sincere. Josie and a couple other people nod in agreement. But Bethany decides to continue on the topic.

“I thought having a witch as a romantic partner was like a status symbol or something. Is it not that way for family?”

You grit your teeth. “A status symbol like having a fancy car or an expensive watch is, sure. It doesn’t do anything to benefit the witch, though. They aren’t some sort of trophy for the elite.”

“Well, yeah, obviously, but I thought the whole ‘guardian’ thing protects witches by making sure they’re taken care of and it only matches people who are compatible. Isn’t that a good thing?” Bethany asks, seemingly genuine in her curiosity.

“If having to essentially be owned and have a ring on your finger or a collar on your neck to be treated like a real person is a good thing, then sure,” you snap. Geez, you usually can keep a hold of your temper better than this. Your magic shifts under your skin restlessly. You roll your shoulders back, trying to shake off the pressure.

Josie’s whispering something into Bethany’s ear, but she keeps going. “But I thought-”

Billy cuts her off. “I think we can all agree that the laws surrounding witchcraft are archaic and the recent legislation being proposed is appalling.” His tone is firm and final, ending the discussion. His aura settles around you almost protectively and you readily accept the distraction from the itch of your power.

“I’m sorry, Blue. I didn’t mean to offend. I’m just not very aware of what things are like for your kind in the world right now,” Bethany offers.

“I accept your apology. I’ve heard worse, it’s okay, really.” You try to smile at her, but it feels hollow. You aren't angry with her, not that much anyway. More the world that has created this reality for you and your kind.

“You know, historically speaking, witches were actually most often healers and scholars,” someone on the other side of the table pipes in. She’s blonde and gorgeous, you think her name is Rose if you remember right. She looks at you and you notice the hazel color of her eyes.

You nod and shoot her a grateful smile.

“I heard that, too,” Josie adds. “Weren’t some of the greatest inventors in history theorized to be witches or at the very least, differentials?”

“Yeah, I mean, differential isn’t a term that was coined until the last century, but I’m pretty sure Da Vinci and Benjamin Franklin were witches,” you share.

The conversation evolved into a friendly and excited banter about which historical figures had to have been witches.

“He came back from the dead after resting in a dark tomb for 3 days, vampire for sure,” Michaelson- his first name, you’ve learned, is John- insists.

“He turned water to wine, walked on water, and isn’t there a story about him feeding a ton of people with a small amount of bread and fish or something?” You ask, waving your hands as you talk. “He has to have been a witch. I don’t know of any other species that could do half that.”

“Fair enough. Is there any truth to the whole immaculate conception thing?” John concedes as he bites into a fry.

“Oh gods, I don’t even know.” You think for a moment. “It’s possible, I guess. If a witch had enough power to create or transport matter. With the assumption that Jesus was a very powerful witch, his dad had to have been off the charts.”

“So an entire religion, like thousands of sub religions, might be based on a witch?” Bethany asks, curiously.

“Yup,” you say, popping the P and leaning back in your seat.

“That’s crazy,” she says to herself. Bethany had been more careful through the conversation, and you think she actually was eager to learn more.

“Especially when you take into account how many witch hunts were started by Christians,” Josie says with a frown.

“Many of the victims of those hunts were actually normal humans, but it was really damaging to witch culture,” you say softly. Sometimes you wondered what it would’ve been like to grow up with a coven, a family that loved you in your entirety, kept you safe and taught you instead of abandoning you. But covens since the height of the witch hunts were hollow mockeries of what they were before.

“That’s awful,” Rose states with a grimace.

“History is full of terrible things that get rewritten to fit the narrative of whoever’s in charge,” you comment.

“Now I’m wishing I paid more attention in school,” Russo says, lightening the mood. He’d kept quiet for the most part, preferring to listen and observe instead.

“Did everyone do those little crafts in elementary school where you’d make your own familiar or broom or hat or something for Witch History Month?” Josie asks.

“I loved those as a kid! I didn’t fully manifest my magic until I was an adult, but I’ve always wanted a familiar!”

“If you could, what type would you pick?” Billy asks, enjoying the way your eyes light up in excitement.

“A dog, 100%. I’ve always wanted some sort of dog, but my mom was allergic so I just collected little figurines and those little crafts we did and lined them up on my dresser,” you admit.

“You’ve never had a dog?” Josie asks in surprise.

You shake your head. “As soon as I was old enough, I started volunteering at a shelter, though. I spent most of my free time walking the dogs and trying to help with training.”

“One of these days, you gotta get a dog, Blue,” Bethany insists.

“And bring them to work so we can all meet them,” Rose adds.

“Now hold on there, I never agreed to dogs in the building,” Billy interjects.

“Come on, Russo,” Josie says. “It can be her emotional support animal and our unofficial mascot.”

You would love to have a dog and bond with it as a familiar, you really would. But you knew that your life expectancy wasn’t great right now. Your health was all over the place and while your conscious control over your magic was increasing in precision, the subconscious connection to auras and futures was all over the place. While you weren’t 100% certain what sort of creature you are, you did know that those who needed to feed to live would eventually waste away and die if they didn’t feed enough. The filter feeding you did was the equivalent of forcing a car to run on fumes every time you drove. You realized in this very moment that you’d come to accept that your death was likely on the horizon.

It wasn’t as painful a thought as you expected, it didn’t shock you. You suppose that you’d never really expected to live a full life after everything that happened since your parents kicked you out.

“I don’t think now is really the right time for me to have a pet,” you confess. “Maybe in a few years.” Odds are you only had one or two birthday’s left in you.

“Bummer,” Rose pouts with full, lightly glossed lips that you weren’t sure why you were paying such close attention to.

“Sometimes I stop by my place and get Dawn, my bloodhound, for lunch if we’re going somewhere dog friendly,” John says.

“Guess you’ll have to come out with us again and meet Dawn then,” Billy smirks.

“We’ll see,” you grumble.

You hadn’t been expecting lunch to be that enjoyable, even with such a rocky start. While some of your coworkers had remained largely silent for it except for the occasional comment usually based on some sort of stereotype, you hoped you could dissuade them of some of their more ignorant witch opinions.

******

Billy was pleased with how lunch had turned out. He knew he’d chosen today’s group wisely, though he was unhappy with how Bethany had behaved initially. He hadn’t realized how delicate of a topic witchcraft would be. Something he had made a mental note of for the future.

You’d come alive for a few moments there, grinning with your eyes their natural color still just as beautiful as they were when they flashed the cold blue of your magic. He’d known you would get along with Josie, but how well you interacted with Rose was a bit of a surprise. While it would’ve been almost unnoticeable to anyone else at the table, Billy was very familiar with what desire looked like. Yours was harder to sense, so much so that he suspected you purposefully repressed it. He’d noticed it a handful of times when you were talking with him, sometimes something as innocent as him leaning against a doorframe, smiling, or laughing would trigger a small amount of lustful energy from you. The first time he felt it, he thought he’d imagined it, but as he observed you more closely, he began to pick up on it more quickly. And he’d picked up on it today when you looked at Rose.

He knew Rose was a lesbian, he didn’t mind that, it would be a bit hypocritical of him considering his own nature. But he hadn’t expected her to be attracted to you. It’s not that you weren’t attractive, you were, in a softer way, something that was more subtle, almost like you hid it. Billy would have to watch the two of you, make sure Rose wasn’t a threat to his plans, make sure you stayed close to him.

******

Billy had been in a mood all week and you were honestly starting to get a little frustrated yourself. You knew that it was over a contract he’d been trying to get and the potential client was being stubborn. That day, you’d noticed he had arrived to work before you, not entirely unusual since he was a very hands on sort of guy who chose to work alongside his employees instead of above them. You’d left work around 5 that afternoon and Billy was still there. It was around 9 pm when you realized you’d left your Sight journal in your office, so you rushed back over, hoping someone was still in and hadn’t fully locked up. There were usually a couple people who worked overnight.

You were in luck, and able to head up the stairs and grab your journal before noticing that Billy’s office light was still on and his door was open a few inches. You peer through the gap and see him still pouring over his work, dark hair tousled like he’d been running his fingers through it in frustration.

“What are you still doing here, Russo?” You ask from the doorway.

He doesn’t look up as he responds. “I'm trying to figure out what I’m missing. I have another meeting with Diaz tomorrow afternoon.”

You hesitate then offer, “You want some help?”

He shakes his head, looking up with a frown. “It’s late, I thought you went home hours ago?”

“I forgot something in my office,” you explain, lifting the hand holding your worn orange journal. He nods and focuses back on his notes. You really should leave it, but he seems so stressed and it’s almost physically uncomfortable to see him this way.

“Come on, Billy, let me help. Walk me through it and maybe that’ll help?” You sit down on the chair across from him and he leans back, assessing.

“There’s a lot that goes into it,” he warns.

“I’ll do my best to keep up,” you assure him. Some of the more technical things you don’t understand, you don’t actually know a whole lot about the inner workings of Anvil, only the parts you so readings for. Much of what Billy says has to do with interpersonal politics, something you’re clueless about without the help of your magic. But you get the gist of what he’s saying, he’s competing with an older private security company named Black Lake for the contract and has yet to secure it. Your magic is branching out around you as you try to get a more magical view of the situation.

With his permission, you reach for his laptop.

“We have a better track record than them in the last 5 years,” you say, mostly to yourself as you look into the company’s public records. Billy nods.

“They’ve had a couple public fumbles and Anvil has only been improving, especially since you started,” Billy adds.

You nod to yourself, continuing to look. “Anvil’s better in just about every area, they only have seniority.” You’re starting to understand his frustration. Your eyes flash blue for a moment and a thought comes to you. Something that might be able to help Anvil secure the contract over Black Lake.

After pulling up Diaz’s profile on social media, you dig through some articles on the Black Lake CEO to see if your hunch is correct. “This guy is an asshole!”

“I certainly think so, but I’m curious why you do?” Billy asks, a small smile on his lips for the first time in days.

“Okay, look,” you show him the articles you’ve pulled up along with some of the social media threads. “You know the whole affirmative action plan that includes certain species of supes, mostly witches and diffs?”

He nods, listening expectantly.

“Grayson Blacklake is anti-witch, specifically female witches. It’s not obvious until you start to see some of his comments on nonhumans and look into some of the complaints. Most of his employees are strictly human, it’s disproportionate especially when you look at who actually ends up trying to go into private security. It looks like he’s toeing the line to keep from being obvious, but he’s got some comments here about the importance of ‘pure blood’ and how magic goes ‘against God’. Here’s one where he’s liking a tweet with a bible quote about killing witches. That in and of itself, isn’t super out of the ordinary for these sorts of people but I know you and Frank were talking the other day and you mentioned Diaz has kids.” You look up at Billy expectantly.

“Yeah, he does, what does that have to do with Black Lake? Grayson has a couple kids and a grandkid on the way, he has us beat with the family angle,” Billy says. You shake your head with a grin.

“Diaz has an instagram account, probably run by his wife and it’s rarely updated, but it has some family pictures and both his daughters follow it. The older daughter, Grace, has her instagram private, but if you look at her profile picture, it’s of her at college graduation. Her younger sister, Zoe, has a public instagram and if you look, she has some pictures of Grace’s graduation along with some video clips. Grace is a witch, potions based it looks like. In all these photos, it looks like Jeffery Diaz is really supportive of his daughters-” you pause for a second, honing in on the photo of Diaz with his family, using a touch of sight to confirm your theory. “And I’m betting he would much rather hire a company that is ahead of the curve in witch affirmative action and hiring practices than a company whose CEO says they should burn.”

Billy looks a bit stunned for a moment. “Your eyes barely flashed blue the entire time you talked, that was all you just figuring it out?” He looks at you with a touch of admiration.

“My sight pointed me in the right direction and then I used it to confirm everything. I wouldn’t’ve known where to start otherwise,” you say with a shrug. “But I think this should give you the advantage tomorrow.”

“You’re brilliant,” he says, with a grin, and the heat of his gaze is almost too much for you. He looks at you like you’re the first growth of spring after a hard winter, like you’re the first bits of light in the sky before dawn, like you’re beautiful. But there’s something else there, something behind the smile and the charm, something you can’t quite name but have noticed before. Something you’ll regret not paying more attention to once you realize the truth.

“Do you need anything before I head out?” You ask, changing the topic.

“I’m good, sweetheart,” he says and you feel the tips of your ears burn at how the pet name sounds coming from him, borderline sinful. But you shove down those thoughts, he was your boss and it wouldn’t do you any good to let yourself think of him that way.

“Goodnight, Russo,” you say as you leave.

*****

Billy never thought you were unintelligent, never thought less of you for the way you were quiet until comfortable, for how you only really chimed into conversations when it was something related to your interests- usually something witch or magic related, or for how you seemed to still be completely fooled by Billy’s carefully cultivated aura. No, he didn’t think less of you for any of that. But he will admit to being surprised by your willingness to help with problems outside the realm of your job description and he definitely was not expecting you to actually be able to help him with the Diaz contract. The more he learned about you, the more certain he was that you would be useful.

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