#oh dorne plot i love you

[elia-nymmeros]

""A start?" said Ellaria Sand, incredulous. "Gods forbid. I would it were a finish. Tywin Lannister is dead. So are Robert Baratheon, Amory Lorch, and now Gregor Clegane, all those who had a hand in murdering Elia and her children. Even Joffrey, who was not yet born when Elia died. I saw the boy perish with mine own eyes, clawing at his throat as he tried to draw a breath. Who else is there to kill? Do Myrcella and Tommen need to die so the shades of Rhaenys and Aegon can be at rest? Where does it end?" "It ends in blood, as it began," said Lady Nym. "It ends when Casterly Rock is cracked open, so the sun can shine on the maggots and the worms within. It ends with the utter ruin of Tywin Lannister and all his works."" The Watcher, ADwD

Rereading ADwD, one of the most interesting aspects of the Dorne plot for me is that constantly, over and over again, the elder Sand Snakes mock Doran for his perceived weakness, for being slow to act, for planning and disguising and lying instead of outright fighting, claiming that he was a lesser man compared to Oberyn, and yet part of me wonders what they thought/might've thought of Elia while she lived, especially when Gregor's head was brought back to Dorne and the Sand Snakes demanded vengeance not only for Oberyn, but also for Elia and her children.

"Her sister Tyene gave answer. "What he always does," she purred. "Delay, obscure, prevaricate. Oh, no one does that half so well as our brave uncle."" The Watcher, ADwD

It's hard to know because we only have second-handed accounts, but we've been told that Elia was someone agreeable, kind, with a good heart, someone precisely like Doran and very unlike Oberyn. No account of Elia presents her as a bold, outspoken, bloodthirsty, or vengeful woman, which of course doesn't mean that she wasn't, but it means that she didn't choose to present herself as one in front of Dorne and King's Landing court; in fact, some people even remember her as "drab" and "frail". It's very poignant to see the Sand Snakes asking to spill blood and kill innocent people in the name of a woman dead some 17 years ago who, as a matter of fact, probably never wanted to see the entirety of Casterly Rock and Oldtown destroyed and slain, children and smallfolk included.

"Princess Elia was a good woman, Your Grace. She was kind and clever, with a gentle heart and a sweet wit." ADwD, Daenerys IV

""We could kill him, to be sure," said Tyene, "but then we would need to kill the rest of his party too, even those sweet young squires. That would be … oh, so messy."" ADwD, The Watcher

It's interesting for me that they learned this bloodthirsty attitude from Oberyn, who of course had almost two decades of virulent resentment because the brutal rape and murder of his sister and her children went unpunished, but who was also the man who probably knew Elia the best and what ideas she held about retribution, not some idealized version of a woman who they probably don't remember. Part of me wonders if the Sand Snakes wouldn't have found Elia cowardly and weak and useless too, simply because she displayed the same ideas about politics and power than Doran, because all accounts of Elia (all three of them) shows us a genuinely gentle and easy-going person who did not murder and poison her way to power as it is common in the royal court.

"I am not blind, nor deaf. I know that you all believe me weak, frightened, feeble. Your father knew me better (...)" The Watcher, ADwD

"It must have been the madness that led Aerys to refuse Lord Tywin's daughter and take his son instead, whilst marrying his own son to a feeble Dornish princess with black eyes and a flat chest." AFfC, Cersei V

I'm not saying that Elia wouldn't have wanted The Mountain dead or that the Sand Snakes were in the wrong for wanting their family members avenged, because Tywin Lannister and his lackeys were evil men who committed several crimes against the Martells and faced no direct repercussions, but the extreme level of hatred that the Sand Snakes show towards everyone who happens to be named Lannister, their willingness to go to a war they cannot hope to win with allies they aren't sure they can trust without any kind of well-thought plan, and the constant derision they show towards Doran and his attitudes... part of me feels like Elia has already been forgotten by them, replaced by an empty figurehead who they can rally around and use to justify their cruelty, while at the same time disdaining the same attitudes that Elia herself was known for...

"Written? If you were half the man my father was—" AFfC, The Captain of Guards.

""Obara would make Oldtown our father's funeral pyre, but I am not so greedy. Four lives will suffice for me. Lord Tywin's golden twins, as payment for Elia's children. The old lion, for Elia herself. And last of all the little king, for my father." "The boy has never wronged us."" AFfC, The Captain of Guards.

Something something about letting vengeance and senseless violence consume you, about a woman dead so many years ago and yet still loved by her people and her family, about the attitudes we teach our children and how they might end up twisted without a specific contextualization in time and space...

[msflora-lynn]

Rating the fanbase of every Primarch & their legions.

This is my opinion, I love all of you ㅤ♡ྀི ₊

Lion'El Johnson & Dark Angels fans (8/10): I like the fanarts they make, also 100 points for portraying Lion like a rouge kitty cat sometimes. Oh I also like how the Lion fans are embracing the 'our primarch is obviously neurodivergent and we love him for it'

Fulgrim & E.Children fans (10/10): This part of the group always produce the best fanart?? Or at least a lot of artworks for E.Children in general. Though browsing his fanart must be done with caution cause 20% chance I might see schlongous or booty.

Perturabo & I.W fans (8/10): I'm sorry about your favorite character. Not many of them are around though :( But so far their fanart production have been solid. I like how they kinda just chill and embrace the 'neurodivergent manchild' persona for Bo and makes no attempt to refute it.

Jaghatai Khan & W.Scars fans (8/10): Surprisingly not many of them. I'm kinda bummed out about it since I like this character. Though his fanarts are mostly adorable! They're always chill, I'm happy to see them on my feed -`♡´-

Leman Russ & S.W fans (7/10): I would rate it 8/10 but I hate stimky wolf grrrr so -1 point (msflora found dead in fenris more at news 6). Anyways fanart-wise, they're so good!! I like how they always draw Leman like a scrunkly lil guy. I also love to read their fanfictions.

Rogal Dorn & I.Fists fans (6/10): WHERE ARE YOU PEOPLE?! I CAN'T FIND YOU!! I RATE IT LOW BECAUSE I'M SCRAPING THE GROUND FOR ROGAL DORN CONTENT! But in all seriousness, loving how they embrace the 'fortify' meme. I don't like the weird Black Templar larpers from twitter, but that's just a 1% of the fanbase

Konrad Curze & Night Lord fans (8/10): Your fanfictions scares me, most of the hashtags are nowhere written in the bible, but I read them all so who am I to judge. I love how this side of the fandom just embrace the 'we are bad and disturbing and creepy' schtick and go ball. I blame this side of the fandom for making me love Jago Sevatar tho.

Sanguinius & Blood Angels fans (10/10): Insane artworks from this side of the fandom, always impress me. A lot of vampire and angelic stuff, I love you guys. Sorry about your primarch tho.

Ferrus Manus & I.H fans (all six of them) (7/10): I'm sorry about your primarch, I'm sorry he get crumbs in the lore. I rate it low because I'm scraping for any IH/Ferrus content here....

Angron & World Eaters fans (8/10): Loving the contents you guys made here! A lot of red, so many red, oh god. I'm sorry about the sinking ship of Argel Tal x Kharn though.

Roboute Guilliman & Ultramarine fans (9/10): Spoiled, well-fed, their favorite guys have insane plot armor and I'm jealous >:(. Keep the bulky half-naked Rob fanarts coming tho I have them all liked & downloaded.

Mortarion & D.Guards fans (6/10): I do not like Nurgle stuff so I rarely go there... But my god most fanfictions yall made for Mortarion x reader is heartbreaking. Rating it low because I get scared of some fanarts they make, but pre-heresy Mortarion is kinda baddddddd👅

Magnus the Red & Thousand Sons fans (100 Tzaangors/10): We are so cool and awesome, not a biased rating. In all seriousness we Tsons fans r eating GOOODDD this year (thx SM2). Though we suffer from a disease called 'inconsistent writing of our favorite primarch's power levels' and it's not getting better.

Horus & L.Wolves fans (9/10): Guys I understand, Horus is big daddy, a father, he's an icon, you guys made it clear with the abundant of breeding tags in your fanfics. Sorry that the way he's corrupted into chaos is kinda bootycheeks tho :( Wishing they explore more into his corruption.

Lorgar & WB fans (Where Are You Guys/10): While being small, they make the best artworks for Lorgar. Questionable fanfic tags, but I love yall regardless. They kinda eats with all the Word Bearer fanarts tho I've seen. Sadly, Erebus is from here and everyone hates him.

Vulkan & Salamander fans (8/10): I would like to pet them. In all seriousness I'm happy to see the majority of Vulkan fanarts are created with African features in mind ♥︎!! Everyone from this fanbase are cute and sweet!!

Corvus Corax & RG fans (Birds/10): I love all the raven aesthetics often seen in their fanworks. Corvus having wings is so cool, and often I see amazing OCs spawning from this legion.

Alpharius Omegon & A.L fans (What are you guys doing/10): I can't find much about them but I fw with the entire 'we dont know what our primarch is doing so we just ball it'. BUT HEY CONGRATS ON YOUR PRIMARCH COMING BACK!!!

:3 And I love all of you... Thank you for reading this nonsense of a post.

[nahoney22]

If you're able I would LOVE ❛  cum for me, pretty one.  ❜ and/or ❛  i know, baby, you need me to fuck you, don't you?  ❜ but with AFAB reader saying it to Crosshair? 👀Thank you in advance if you do!! Your writing is wonderful 💕

4000 Follower Prompt Celebration

Crosshair X AFAB!Reader

word count: 1.6k

prompts:

• “Cum for me, pretty one.”

• “I know baby, you need me to fuck you don’t you?”

You want to try something new. For the crosshair girlies 💋

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only! Minors will be blocked if I see you interact. You’ve been warned. Smut, Dom! Reader, Sub! Crosshair, porn without plot, p in v sex, neck kissing, making out, handjob, riding, explicit sexual content and language. AFAB reader, established relationship,brief cockwarming, creampie, no mention of contraception so up to you.

authors note: so sorry for the wait my beloved @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius . Enjoy this well needed crosshair smut ❤️‍🔥

In the quiet confines of the Marauder, where solitude was a rare luxury amidst the hustle of missions and the constant presence of the Batchers, an air of anticipation hung heavy between Crosshair and you.

It had been (or at least felt like) an eternity since you both had a little fun, a longing that was simmering beneath the surface met with secret lustful gazes and needy touches. Both of you just waiting for the right moment to ignite the fire.

However, one evening after you both managed to convince Hunter to stay behind for whatever reason, as soon as the door sealed shut to the Marauder, the tension crackled to life, and Crosshair wasted no time in bridging the gap between you.

With a fervent urgency, his hands found their place on your waist, drawing you closer until your breaths mingled in the space between your lips.

"Finally," he murmured against your lips with a husky grumble laced with longing, hooking your leg to pull you impossibly closer. But you, caught in the whirlwind of desire and anticipation, had a different notion in mind.

“Crosshair, mmm…” you whimper in pleasure agaisnt his lips, finding the right moment to set your desires in action. “I want to try something.”

He chuckles, low and guttural that made your body vibrate and cunt throb in anticipation, “And what may that be?”

As his lips move down to your neck, licking and sucking at your soft skin that almost breaks you and forgetting your idea, you take a step back from him. There’s a glimmer in your eyes and a look of intrigue in his as you slip the gloves away that dorned your hands. “Hands behind your back.”

“What are you up to?”

“No questions,” you input swiftly, “be a good boy and do as you're told.”

He stills, the pet name catching him off guard but you couldn’t act like you didn’t see the twitch in his pants. “Oh, you like that do you? Do you like being called a ‘good boy’?”

His tongue rolled between his teeth as his arousal became more than evident from the growl in his throat. He nods, and does as he is told. “Only if you call me it.”

When his hands find their way behind his back, you approach again and tease him. You move your mouth close to his lips, only brushing over him before pulling away, fingers dancing over the fabric of his clothes.

His eyes are trained on you, barely blinking as he watches your every move in anticipation. Your fingers graze the underside of his waistband and when he thinks you’re about to pull them down you pull back earning a dissatisfied whine from the Marksman.

“Such a tease,” he mutters but there’s a smirk on his lips. But, his hand comes from behind his back to reach out and touch you but you swat his hand back.

“Ah, ah! Hands. Back. Now.”

Begrudgingly, he obeys once more and as he’s about to give a snarky remark, your hands cup the bulge in his pants creating the most sinful sound to part his lips.

“It’s been a long time…” you sigh as you feel his cock twitch under his pants and in your hand, his abdominal muscles flexing and contracting under your touch, “…you need a release don’t you?”

“Yes,” he rasps, his eyes looking down as you fondle his cock that was in desperate need of touching your skin, “hurry.”

You giggle at his neediness and tut at him. “I think I’ll be the one giving orders this time, Crosshair.” Beginning to play with the waistband of his pants again, you give him the pleasure of dropping to your knees and allowing his cock to spring free as you pull them down. His tip swollen, bursting with precum already twitches in front of your eyes and you bite your lip to stop you from taking him right then and there. “Such a pretty cock, desperately needing to be kissed.”

“D-Do it,” he pants and you're pleasantly surprised to see how beautifully desperate he was.

Again, you tut and shake your head. “I don’t think you quite understand Crosshair. You will not tell me what to do,” you gaze up at him, hands sliding up his slender yet toned thighs, “I’ll do what I think you deserve.”

He cursed under his breath but his heartbeat quickens at the sight of you on your knees, hands wrapping around his cock and giving it a slow caress.

Usually by now his hands would be in your hair, clumped in his grasp and hips thrusting as his cock stuffs down your throat but instead, he has to hold back. And it was agonising.

His length is warm in your grasp and his gasps of pleasure echo around the ship like a song. He shivers involuntarily as you collect the slick from his tip and use it as lubricant, your hand keeping a steady pace as you start to release his tension. “That’s it, do you like that?”

All he could do was bite his lip and nod, submitting to you and then you go ahead and tease him some more, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out as if to welcome his cock or even to paint it in white ribbons. His breathing is ragged and his legs begin to shake. “Minx.”

Your momentum changes, starting off slow and limp now to quickly and firmly. Your curious eyes now focused on every last twitch and movement he’s making. Desperate moans spill from those pretty snarky lips as he starts to frantically thrust into your hand; head thrown back and arching gorgeously.

One hand slips from his cock and moves down to fondle with his balls. He reacts beautifully, gasping and then groaning but as soon as you squeeze gently down on them, right as you squeeze the head of his cock, he snaps.

“Fuck! I need- I need…”

“I know baby,” you smile innocently, “you need me to fuck you don’t you?”

“Yes, I need to be inside you.” You’re about to laugh, his desperation to cum like a song to your ears as you think of all the times he had denied you of an orgasm because he liked to see your eyes pleading. But, you had the power in your hands.

You say nothing, instead gesture for him to follow before pointing to a seat for him to take. He does, eagerly. He slides his shirt off even though you didn’t tell him too. Though there was something beautiful about seeing him sat there, nude as his cock rests and twitches against his abdomen. Needy. Fuckable.

Slowly, you pull yourself out of your own clothes this time. You let it all look at your feet and Crosshair looks like he’s ready to launch himself out of the chair and take you right then and there but he holds back, wanting to cum to your rules.

With ease, you manage to move on top of him, legs comfortably placing over each side of him as your pussy hits his stomach. “Fuck you’re soaked.” He mutters, squirming as he feels himself ready to burst at any second.

“I don’t think I’m going to last long..” he mutters once you feel your hand come down, caressing his aching length as you begin to line yourself up with his tip.

There’s a hint of embarrassment in his eyes but you didn’t mind. Not at all. In fact, you were flattered you had this effect on him so there’s no surprise that when you coo his name and sheathe yourself on his cock that he lurches forward and buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning almost violently in pleasure.

You tilt your head back, adjusting to him. It really had been a long time, never had you been stretched so good and felt so full again. “Mmm, do you want me to move?”

“Yes! Ride me, riding my fucking cock.” He begs, teeth grazing your neck as he sucks on the skin, bound to leave a bruise.

“Be a good boy and say ‘please’.” He whined in return but mustered out a quiet ‘please’ which was good enough for you. Finding your strength, you begin bouncing up and down on his cock. The aching length slides in and out of you so easily, bound to be from your increased arousal and how wet you are. Crosshair braces you, his arms wrapping around your back so that you can lean into him as you fuck yourself on him.

You take your own breath away as you slam down on him harder, mixing your rhythm with bouncing and grinding your hips as your pussy clenches around him. But as expected, he didn’t last long.

His breaths became staggered, his hips thrusting up to meet yours as his assault on your neck became sloppy. You cup his chin, forcing him to look at you as you place a longing kiss to his lips and whisper, “cum for me, pretty one.”

Everything in his mind goes blank, he can barely even remember his own name as you ride him through his orgasm. Your soaking walls clench around him so tightly as he cums, strings of dirty words erupting from his mouth as he coats your insides with his seed.

He goes limp, his arms that were wrapped around you tightly now loosening as he pulls back from you and kisses your cheek gently. “Thank you…” he pants, “I needed that.”

You giggle softly, essentially warming his cock as you remain sitting in his lap. “I know you did, you did so well for me.” You cooed and you noticed him become flustered at the praise.

Perhaps, this is something you had to do again.

Masterlist

Prompt Works

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[syndrossi]

I love how in resonant Daemon is a mix of 'Jon should inherit Runestone' and also 'Jon should never set foot in Runestone'. Why exactly was Otto happy about going to the vale? I mean obviously because it's good for something he's plotting, but what exactly IS he plotting? And about the stepstone - I can see Daemon deciding that this time he's properly garrisoning the stepstones, purely so he can make it a holding for Rhaegar.

Also, I was thinking about reverse!Au with Jeyne and Rhaella, and how Alicent would think of them - because she'd see Rhaella and be reminded of how Rhaenyra looked, and then see Jeyne and be reminded of how Rhaenyra acted, and want to 'save' them from their 'evil father' EVEN MORE. Alicent and Otto would be pushing for an Aemond/Jeyne match cause a) 'a wife and mother's loyalty is to her husband and children' bullshit and b) it means the second son gets a holding in Runestone. Viserys, who is not thinking of Aegon as a king who would be married to Helaena to emphasise how Targaryen he is, would probably consider AEGON/Jeyne for the same reason - because he would probably want to betroth Rhaella to Jace.

Daemon wants his daughter to be able to choose who they marry thank you!

Otto and Stepstones

We'll have to wait and see on the Otto front, but yes, it's a given that Otto gonna scheme, as is his way.

Otto did in fact accuse Daemon of planning to build a holding for himself in the Stepstones, presumably on Bloodstone. And, I mean, wouldn't it be cool to constantly be traveling between Runestone, Dragonstone, and Bloodstone? Talk about a theme in naming!

That said, it's not the most attractive place for a permanent fortress/keep. It's not particularly fertile, meaning it's not particularly self-sustaining, so a) you won't be able to keep very large herds of sheep/pigs to feed your dragon(s) and b) you're reliant on the nearest friendly territory for trade which happen to be Lys and Dorne, both recent enemies.

Which doesn't mean you don't do it! Daemon very much wants the Iron Throne to have a permanent military presence there so that they have a foothold for venturing into Essos if need be. But I don't know that he would want to take his kids there, even "after" the war.

Reversal AU

Oh, that's a rather clever idea of what Viserys would be inclined to go for, as far as matches. In his guilt over denying his firstborn son his birthright, I could definitely see him going "oh, well, Aegon can have the consolation prize of becoming Lord of Runestone by marrying the elder prophecy child." And since Rhaella is the second-born, she can be the prophecy child who marries Jace to become queen. All while Aemond fumes. (When Otto pitches the Dance, you can bet he'll use the girls being "stolen" by the Blacks as a motivator. Sort of a "you'll each get one, once Rhaenyra's bastards are dealt with" pitch.)

Let's not pretend Daemon doesn't have his own preferences, of course! One of his daughters absolutely should be queen-consort someday, and thus marry Jace. And none of his daughters should ever marry one of the Hightower spawn...

[dalekofchaos]

How Robb could've won the North's independence

Realistically, it would be impossible for Robb to win the War of the Five Kings unless he teamed up with Stannis or somehow got married to Margaery Tyrell(Robb goes to treat with Renly instead of Cat, Renly dies and Robb convinces the Tyrells to join forces, only condition:marry Margaery). But it would've been possible to win The North's Independence.

Before we get into the how he could win, let's look into how and why Robb lost.

Sending Theon to Pyke. The beginning of the end. On one level Robb was right to trust Theon, because we see from Theon's POV chapters that he intended to stay true to Robb's cause…. up until his father rejected him and sent him to reave the West coast and Moat Callin with the other Ironborn. It's only after Theon has been rejected by his father and forced to serve on a ship with another captain (putting the heir to the seastone chair lower in rank than a battle commander) that Theon cracks and decides to do something big to prove he is a worthy heir to Balon Greyjoy. But Cat is also right: because she expected that something could go wrong. Now, she expected that Theon would betray Robb from the off, because she has a nasty suspicious streak and really assumes the worst about everybody - think of all the times she bleats that Jon can't stay at Winterfell as he'll usurp Robb's rights, and ask yourself: has there been any indication that Jon would ever do this? No. Jon could have worked his way up to captain of the Winterfell guard as a Stark bastard, and Robb would have been better protected by his much loved brother than anyone else. But because Cat is so deeply entrenched in her belief that bastards are grasping stealers of birthright, she cannot allow that possibility to even be discussed. Same thing happens with Theon. Cat knows more about Ironborn culture than Robb, and she appreciates that Theon has been a Stark prisoner for years whereas Robb unfortunately thinks of Theon as another adopted brother. But she fails to adequately explain to Robb that her concerns about Theon are not about Theon's character per se, but about Ironborn culture. She anticipates that something could go wrong - she doesn't see exactly what happens to turn Theon against the Starks, but she had enough knowledge of the Ironborn to make a case to Theon and Robb that Balon Greyjoy was a cantankerous old prick who would not be willing to provide a naval fleet to a king he has no interest in pledging his loyalty to in any case.

Not Informing His Uncle of His Plans: Edmure threw back the Lannister forces at the Battle of the Fords. Because of this, Robb is unable to encircle Tywin's host, as he had hoped to surround and capture them further within the Riverlands. I'm not so sure that Robb actually had that "plan" in Riverrun. I think he hammered out the details of the trap somewhere in the West, and didn't think Edmure would interpret differently. As to the trap itself: oh no, Tywin's cause would have been lost for sure. If he delayed for even a few hours, he'd be late to the rescue of King's Landing - Lannister Plot ArmorTM struck again. And the thing is, if he crossed the Trident, he'd be caught between Robb, Edmure and Roose - you can forget about the Red Wedding then: Roose and Walder are dipshits for sure, but they're above all opportunistic dipshits. With Tywin caught between 3 different forces, at least one of which - Robb - is way, way better at guerilla hill-war that Tywin (who never seems to win anything unless he outnumbers his enemy at least 2:1), that's it for the Lannister army. Meanwhile, Stannis takes KL, but keeps pissing off everyone with his charming personality, so his reinforcements are dubious. But Stannis is a man of honor and of his word and he would've given the Starks Sansa. Dorne would be pleased that Tywin and the Mountain dies and extends an alliance with The North. The Tyrells just fuck off in Highgarden. The Ironborn are dealt with and would be at death's door until Euron returns. Stannis has Varys and Littlefinger executed and Lysa just sulks with Sweetrobin in The Eyrie. The Starks regain The North and the Starks reunite and most importantly Robb is the one who goes to the Wall and helps prepare the North for The Others.

Beheading Rickard Karstark: Karstark, feeling the need for vengeance due to his son's deaths, slaughters prisoners of war Tion Frey and Willem Lannister. Due to this act, Robb sentences Karstark to death and beheads him personally. This leads to the Karstark' abandoning ship and heading home. Rickard and the Karstarks had been some of, if not, his most loyal vassals. When Ned was imprisoned and Robb called his banners Rickard answered bringing as many men as he could unlike many other Northern Lords who held back men in reserve for their own interests. Or the Umbers who threatened to go home unless he got his way and had to be threatened to stay and help Robb free his father. When Winterfell was captured and Bran and Rickon's lives endangered the Karstarks were one of the few Northern Houses to send men despite the large distance to Winterfell. Despite all this, despite the fact that two of Rickards sons were killed as they were protecting Robb from Jaime Lannister, or his heir was captured being sent into a battle that Robb knew they were going to lose Robb still gave Rickard Karstark the harshest punishment he could instead of being lenient like his own advisers suggested and keeping him prisoner or sending him to the Wall. Now this move was especially stupid as the remnants of the 2,000 Karstark foot was with Roose. Robb was actually worried about them turning on Bolton, which was a real possibility, but instead they worked with Roose to take down Robb at the Red Wedding. Would Roose have had the confidence to act without those Karstark numbers? Being lenient with Rickard might have still lost those Karstark men but they would never have helped in the Red Wedding. Karstark sacrificed a lot and while killing those two Lannisters was bad, no one would have cared if it had been on the battlefield. Their age has little to do with it, both sides would have had casualties of similar ages in the battles.

Marrying Jeyne Westerling: Robb was betrothed to a daughter of Walder Frey; however, this act broke that vow, thus leading to the Frey's feeling betrayed and withdrawing home. This act of defiance towards the Frey's is later paid in kind via the Red Wedding.

With that out of the way, here is how Robb could've won The North's Independence.

If we’re looking at deposing Joffrey and extinguishing the Royal Branch of House Baratheon-Lannister, then no. Too many riches, lords, and men support them for the Stark/Tully coalition to mount an offensive. They’d be enveloped, surrounded and destroyed.

If we’re looking at the independence of the North, then its possible, but Robb is going to have to do some unpleasant/unhonorable things, because here’s the ultimate goal:

Getting behind Moat Calin and fortifying for the Winter.

If Robb can do that, then he’s pretty much untouchable.

So, how do we get there?

First things first, don’t tie the knot with Talisa/Westerling and marry Roslin Frey like he agreed to. That stupid marriage should never have happened in the first place.

Eddard Stark survived the stain of a “bastard.” Robb can too, which may not even be a problem since Westerling never became pregnant (probably due to her mother). Robb marrying for love was so out of character that we’re just setting aside the Talisa incident.

Next, its time to get the Northern Alliance some breathing room for their strategic retreat.

Robb needs to recognize that Edmere is an idiot and needs his uncle Blackfish to watch over his shoulder the whole time. If he does so, then Robb’s cannon plan in season 3 works. The Mountain and his Ravagers are drawn out of Harrenhal, surrounded and annihilated.

That not only deals a blow to Lannister prestige, but also wins them brownie points with the Brotherhood Without Banners. Enough so that maybe they let Robb know that they have his sister.

That with a nice sack of cash will firmly place the BWB on the Stark side, so long as Robb can keep his Northmen in line. They are going to be the Stark’s eyes and ears as well as turn the Riverlands into the Spanish Ulcer for the Lannisters.

Which brings us to Karstark.

At the beginning of season three, the Kingslayer is gone, so Karstark goes berserk as a result. Instead of beheading the man, Robb should parlay with him instead. Use his anger to help with the retreat, while at the same time, put him in overwhelming situations where a stray arrow or well-timed blade may get through his guard.

In other words, suicide by Lannister.

Karstark won’t notice, he’s too bloodmad, his focus will solely be on killing Lannisters. The problem will eventually resolve itself. And if not, mayhaps the BwB can help, for another sack of cash of course.

So now Robb has his space.

The BwB and Karstark are disrupting the Lannister/Tyrell logistics, inflicting lop-siding losses on demoralized and green Lannister/Tyrell levies (most of Lord Tywin’s professional force was either wiped out at the Whispering Woods or at Blackwater and the Tryrell “impressive” force of 80,000 are farmhands who’ve never seen a blade in their life).

Now comes the hard part, withdrawing the Riverlords and what’s left of their men behind the Moat.

After two years of war, the Riverlords have maybe 15–20 thousand men left. Add on to Robb’s own 15,000 Northmen, and Robb can command an impressive 30,000 battle hardened soldiers.

And every one of those men are needed in the North:

To remove the Ironborn.

To fortify the Moat, the White Knife, and the Stoney Shore.

To deal with the Wildlings, Stannis, and ultimately, the White Walkers.

But the Riverlords are stubborn. They don’t want to abandon their homes to the Lannisters. Who would? Moreover, to abandon their homes to fight a supposedly Northern problem? That’s adding insult to injury.

Hence why marrying Roslin is so important. It means that Robb can’t just pack up and go home. He is now permanently tied to the survival of the Riverlands.

The marriage carries a promise: that Robb will return. Just as Doug MacArthur returned to the Philippines.

Combine that with parting with 5000 men to garrison the strategic and symbolic castles throughout the Riverlands (Riverrun, Oldstones, The Crossroads, the Twins, and Seagard), Robb and the Tullys command the displayed area:

With all three forks of the Trident under the Stark Banner, the Starks can send constant supplies, provisions, and ferry BwB raiding parties. The long-ships they need to navigate the forks can easily be supplied by the ironwood of House Forrestor and designed by captured Ironborn in exchange for clemency.

In canon, The Blackfish claimed that Riverrun could hold out for two years, and that was with an unprepared Riverrun. With a proper strategic retreat, a proper supply route along the three forks, that time frame for Riverrun and all other hard nuts in this system could be raised to near indefinite, or at least until Winter hits.

Until Gunpowder came around, it was almost nearly impossible to take castles. The loss of life in an assault was just too much for farmhand levies. The only way to break a castle is through a siege, and well supplied Trident prevents such castles from starving out.

So, by leaving behind say 5000 men, using the Lannister plunder Robb acquired from his expedition west for payment and loyalty, maximizing the continued harassment and disruption by the BwB, and taking advantage of impetuous, but slow thinking lords looking for glory and blood, the Riverlands could hold out until at least Winter, at which points all sides would have to retire.

Its a stalling game, basically.

Now, with that secured, Robb will then take the remaining 10–15 thousand Rivermen with him North to deal with the Ironborn. Which is a piece of cake, since most already left for the Kingsmoot, and while being incredibly skilled sailors and marines, fighting on the Green Land makes them worthless.

Winterfell is secured (unfortunately still razed), the North is liberated, and the Southern choke points are fortified with the Rivermen:

The warmer climate is better suited for them.

It keeps them close to the Riverlands just in case the Lannisters/Tyrells attempt to make an incursion.

That will then allow Robb to use his reinforced 20,000 battle-harden Northern Banner Army to force Mance Rayder into submission.

Unlike Jon Snow, Robb will clearly explain to everyone that a potentially treacherous Wilding is infinitely superior to a definite enemy wight among the White Walker force.

As for the Wildlings, Robb uses Jon Snow and Mance Rayder to keep them in line as they in turn man the Wall and reap up the final harvest before Winter sets in.

As for Stannis, without a proper logistics network (The Nights Watch and the North will not help him), his mercenary army either dies or defects to Robb.

Stannis is imprisoned, Melisandre either stays to help Robb and Jon or runs away.

While the North digs in for the fight at the Wall, the events of the South happen as they do in cannon:

Joffrey is murdered.

Tyrion is blamed and flees.

Sansa disappears to the Vale.

Tywin is killed by his own son.

Cersei single handily destroys the Lannister/Tyrell Alliance.

The Faith Militant rises and imprisons everybody.

Euron wins the Salt Throne and begins ravaging the Reach.

FAegon invades and secures the Stormlands.

With the South in such chaos, the incursions into the Trident diminish, as Lannister, Tryrell, Dorne, Ironborn, and FAegon are too busy fighting each other.

The line of supply along the Trident is strengthened by the spoils of war that came with Stannis, and Stannis’ mercenaries are sent South to warmer climates and better opportunities for plunder.

Sansa, who by now has become a political player in her own right, tricks Sweet Robin into declaring for Robb, and rallies the Knights of the Vale to the Stark Banner.

Who knows, maybe even taking out Littlefinger in the process.

So now Robb’s dominion looks like this:

His army around Moat Calin and South now compose of:The ~5000 Garrison of Rivermen. The 10–15,000 Rivermen ready to march. The ~1000 Partisans of the Brotherhood. The fresh 40,000 Knights of the Vale. The 6000 mercenaries that abandoned Stannis.

Meanwhile up North, Robb with his 20,000, the 50,000 Wildlings, and remnants of the Night’s Watch are ready to fight a grueling war of attrition against the Walkers at the Wall.

And if Tycho Nestoris is aware of the White Walker threat, then Robb’s got Bravoos’ armory and the Iron Bank on his side as well.

Robb doesn’t need to beat the South into submission. Not anymore. Arya is safe in Winterfell. Rickon is safe at Skagos. Bran is missing, but NOT in the South, and Sansa now commands the Vale with Yohn Royce.

All he has to do is hold out, using Darry, Riverrun, and the Oldstones as choke points.

The Royal Navy was destroyed at Blackwater. The Iron Fleet and Redwyne Navy annihilated each other when Euron went South, so the choke points can’t be bypassed.

Robb has won defacto independence.

Assuming they survive the Long Night and the rest of Winter, then Robb can coalesce his forces and reclaim the God’s Eye Basin, thus maintaining his pledge and duty to the Riverlords and increasing his prestige.

And the South will still be too divided to mount a proper counter offensive.

A treaty is eventually signed with whoever is left and Robb wins his independence, and with the wealth of a restored Riverlands, and untouched Vale and revitalized North, becomes the most powerful man in Westeros.

And if Robb listens to Roose Bolton more, explains himself to him, and rewards him for his victories, it may be enough to dissuade him from betraying him. After all, Roose is a pragmatic man, and will always back the winning side.

Robb was no longer on the winning side when he married Jeyne Westerling, executed Karstark, and lost Winterfell, the seat of his authority. If he plays his cards right, and doesn’t restrict himself with his honor, he could avoid the first two and quickly rectify the third, thus snagging victory from defeat.

The South was unified with the marriage of Margarey/Joffrey and the iron hand of Lord Tywin. Kill the union and the Hand, and you kill the alliance. And then, the war looks a whole lot less hopeless for the Starks.

And since Robb is now the most powerful man in Westeros AND has married Roslin Frey, the Late Walder Frey may be hesitant with his blade.

Justice has been restored. The North, the Vale and the Riverlands stand united. The Red Wedding never happens. The Starks are reunited and they fight off the Long Night and bring peace to the realm.

THE KING IN THE NORTH!

[violetmuses]

Not Without You - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹

Title: Not Without You - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: Bad Boys Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: You help Armando identify James McGrath. @nelo0wesker

====

2024

“Got a package deal or something?” Detective Mike Lowrey questioned his estranged son Armando Aretas when you joined Dorn's boathouse.

“We trained together.” Aretas clipped his own words. “Let us both help, or I'm backing out.”

“Damn.” Mike shook his head while glancing between you and Armando. “All right, but if she's cold here, I'll know.”

Reviewing various files, you corner some part of the living room and start working.

“Hey! Uh-uh.” Mike noticed when Armando sat beside you and nearly placed his head on your shoulder, still looking through printouts.

“So you left out the relationship part, too?” Mike stepped toward Armando, pissed off.

“None of your business.” Aretas defended his bond with you.

AMMO weapons expert Kelly and tech genius Dorn, now dating, shrugged though.

“D, plug this one.” You lifted one flash drive and ignored the drama.

Dorn took the flash drive with speed, revealing this grayscale picture.

“Oh, shit! We got 'em.” You say, grounded by reality.

“Told you…” Armando stepped away from Mike and pointed to the large screen. “That's who ordered the hit on Captain.”

“James McGrath: Former Army Ranger turned DEA agent. Tortured before joining the cartel himself.” Dorn offered main highlights.

“It's a wrap. Let's reconvene tomorrow and get this fool. Trust no one.” Mike took charge with the next plan and finally prompted everyone to rest.

______

“Can't sleep. C'mere.” Armando shared the living room sofa-bed with you.

“Will you tell Mike the truth?” You've laid on your back while covers veiled Armando's waist.

“Not until we get James.” Armando referenced McGrath. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You promise, watching Armando finally take peace in your embrace.

*****

“Hello, Beautiful. Didn't think I'd actually see you again.” Despite giving all the hard work to keep Christine and Callie safe, you stand on this plotted beach, facing the barrel of McGrath’s gun.

“Close your eyes, Callie…” You lifted both hands while dressed in the tactical uniform.

“No, please don't do this! Armando saved me with her.” Callie shouted over your defense, terrified.

“I'll take the bullet, move!” Even Armando snapped, but Marcus quickly grounded footsteps.

“Let me go, baby….” You don't fight this truth anymore and have prepared your entire life for the one moment. “It's the only way.”

“No!” Armando yelled in the distance and you waited for McGrath to pull his lethal trigger.

Just when you mingled with death, gunshots fired elsewhere and James McGrath fell backwards near the ocean.

Detective Mike Lowrey just spared your life.

====

2025

“Armando, where you at, man?” At home, Detective Mike Lowrey looked for his son one afternoon. Timing offered Aretas this safe return to Miami, Florida.

“Shit!” Knocking echoed from outside the bedroom and you scrambled with clothes, knowing that Aretas set his lips between your thighs.

“We gotta go.” You playfully swatted near Armando and left, heading to the family cookout.

You survived, no matter what.

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 19)

WARNING: Mentions of miscarriage

—————

My grandmother was arriving from Highgarden today, much to both Margaery’s and my happiness. It had been a long few months without her, especially when I’d been gone in Dorne and Margaery had been the only Tyrell—minus my father—in King's Landing. 

I was waiting for her at the gates of the Red Keep, and watching her carriage come through the grand doors made me smile more than I had since winning at the tourney. 

The horses stopped, and I instantly approached, watching my grandmother step down and look around with a sigh. She’d never been fond of Kings Landing.

“Hello, dear,” she said as I took her hand and kissed it. 

“Grandmother. Welcome back,” I said, and she scoffed, linking our arms as we made our way toward the castle. Our slow pace was convenient, as my stitches had been taken out, but walking was a bit hard if I did it for too long. The maesters assured me that if I continued to take care, I’d be back to normal in about two weeks. 

That naturally excited me, because though Tywin and I had continued to… well, enjoy each other, it would be nice to do so without cautious restraint. 

“I’m not happy to be back. Dreadful city. Though, when I received that raven I knew I had to come,” she said, patting my hand gently as we went inside. 

“I wouldn’t have sent for you under any other circumstance. Margaery loves me, but she needs you here right now, as I’ve been a bit too busy helping Tyrion Lannister manage finances and plotting with the Lord Hand on how to handle Stannis Baratheon should he somehow manage to defeat Robb Stark,” I explained, and my grandmother nodded.

“Yes I’m aware, you’re quite involved. Margaery needs someone who knows her experience, anyways, and as far as I’m concerned, you don’t,” She said, raising an eyebrow at me. I shook my head.

“No, I certainly don’t. It’s happened to you before?”

“It happens to plenty of us, dear. It’s never discussed, but it occurs far too often. It causes far too much pain,” my grandmother said, lamenting what had apparently also happened to her. 

I felt my heart sink, and I had no clue what to say or do. All I could do was apologize.

“I’m sorry, grandmother.”

“It was all a long time ago. How has your sister been doing? Relatively, of course,” she asked quietly, not wanting anyone to hear us as we journeyed through all the damned stairs in the castle. 

“Slowly but surely she seems to be improving. Though, she hasn’t been eating as much these days, and I believe she’s been spending less time with the king. Cersei made a passing comment about it the other day, asking if she was alright because Tommen had not seen much of her lately. I explained that she had been sick and was recovering, though Cersei clearly did not buy it,” I informed her, watching her nod and sigh.

“Margaery’s going to need to start going outside again if she doesn’t want people to whisper. We’ll keep her away from more tedious things of course, but she needs to maintain her relationship with her husband or else things are going to go very wrong,” my grandmother insisted, quite animated with her free hand. 

“She’ll take it better from you.”

“Yes, I know.”

I looked around and sighed, a feeling of dread in my stomach. I felt so bad for Margaery that it often made me sick. 

“Oh, I nearly forgot. You’re a bloody fool for going to Dorne with Jaime Lannister,” she said suddenly, though I realized it was most likely because I was struggling with the stairs.

“It was fun, grandmother, and both Myrcella and Tyrstane are safe. Plus, they’re to marry at the end of this week,” I said, watching her roll her eyes. 

“Fun. You are utterly ridiculous, (Y/N). You love jumping into the wreck, don’t you?”

“It’s certainly my biggest flaw, grandmother.”

“The two children are quite eager, aren’t they? You’ve only been back for two weeks now,” she noticed, to which I nodded and laughed. 

“Yes, they certainly are eager. They are both good people, though. Cersei gave me a genuine thank you when I brought her daughter home,” I said, making her laugh.

“That would've been a sight! She detests the whole pack of us, only the gods know why. Perhaps she doesn’t like the thought of her mother being replaced,” my grandmother guessed, laughing even more as she whispered the last bit to me. 

“Oh please, grandmother, for the last time, I’m not-“

“Enough, (Y/N). Lord Tywin already told me the two of you kissed. I suspect you’ve done much more than that since then,” she scoffed, waving her hand at me in annoyance. 

I remembered then, that Tywin had said she’d made him promise to marry me after bedding me. I thought perhaps she’d done it as part of her assumptions about us, not based on actual evidence. Though, I was not entirely surprised. Nor was I upset, somehow. If Tywin had truly wanted to keep it secret from everyone, he wouldn’t have told my grandmother a thing. 

Perhaps he didn’t mind telling people because he thought… there might be something more to our relationship?

“We have not done more since then. And either way, I’m certainly not replacing Lady Joanna. Tywin has a special place in his heart for her,” I said, shaking my head.

“Try telling Cersei that.”

I sighed, knowing my grandmother was right. I hoped that someday Cersei would come to tolerate me, but I found the chances of that oddly slim. Then again, it seemed anything was possible now that I was in love with the man I’d hated for a lifetime.

—————

Olenna and Margaery were sitting together, and though Margaery felt bad for making her grandmother come to King's Landing, she knew it was what she needed. 

“I know it’s hard, my dear, and I’m so sorry. You’re still young though, and it doesn’t mean you won’t be able to have children,” Olenna assured her, taking her granddaughter's hand from across the table. Margaery nodded and looked down, pressing her lips together.

“I just- I wonder if it was something I did. Or rather, something I didn’t do. I wonder if it was my fault,” She whispered, making her grandmother shake her head. 

“No, my dear, it wasn’t any of that. Children die in the womb all the time, only the gods know why. I’ve gone through it too, and look where I am now. I have three wonderful grandchildren to make up for my disappointing son,” she said, making Margaery laugh for the first time since she had miscarried. 

“What was it… what was it like, for you?” Margaery questioned, fidgeting with her hands.

“It wasn’t easy. I was a bit farther along than you, and your grandfather already knew I was pregnant. He was thankfully supportive, but it took me a long time to move on. You don’t have that luxury, my dear,” Olenna said, making Margaery look down once more and furrow her eyebrows with a distinct sadness. 

“I don’t want Tommen to know. He’ll let it slip to Cersei and Tywin without even realizing the implications,” Margaery said softly, knowing that this was something she’d had to suffer through alone. A pain she would always have to keep a secret. 

“Which means you’re going to have to resume public life much faster than you’d like to. You don’t have to be ambitious just yet, but perhaps you ought to stay with the king in his bed tonight, and walk with him in the gardens tomorrow,” Olenna suggested, knowing that if Margaery remained secluded for too long rumors would inevitably spread and her relationship with Tommen might be affected.

“What if he wants to… to…”

“Let him down gently. Tommen’s a sweet boy, if you tell him you just want to hold him, he’ll comply. He probably won’t think anything of it,” Olenna said, to which Margaery nodded. 

“As for Cersei and Tywin, don’t worry yourself. So long as Tommen doesn’t know, Cersei won’t. Even if Tywin knew, he wouldn’t dare do anything, your sister would take his head,” she continued, to which Margaery smiled a bit. 

“I feel bad for (Y/N). I’m worrying her, I know I am,” she said softly, making Olenna scoff and shake her head.

“Don’t even think about (Y/N), her feelings in this don’t matter. What matters now is you, my dear,” she assured her granddaughter, hand to her cheek. Margaery simply nodded, which Olenna took a sign to move on from the topic. The last thing she wanted to do was make the trauma and pain worse by discussing it too much. 

“Now, tell me what I’ve missed, dear girl.”

“Kings Landing has been quite boring, I’m afraid. Besides a small uprising of religious fanatics, which were crushed quite promptly, nothing has caused any problems,” Margaery informed with a shrug. Olenna nodded.

“And what of your sister? Anything new?”

“Well, (Y/N) was the champion in the tourney, and she went to Dorne just before the wedding, though you already know both of those things,” Margaery said with a soft laugh.

“Believe me, when I learned of it, I was in the right mind to send down our best guards and retrieve her from King's Landing. Even more so when I heard that she’d accompanied Jaime Lannister to Dorne. Your sister is a complete idiot. It’s good to know I at least have one smart grandchild,” Olenna complained, a distinct aggravation in her voice. Meanwhile, Margaery found she could not stop laughing. She was extremely grateful you’d send for Olenna. 

“I’m certain Tywin Lannister would’ve thanked you for doing it. I wish you’d been there, grandmother. He kept yelling for the match to stop while (Y/N) was fighting, and he was shaking. I would’ve sworn I saw a tear slide down his cheek when she was being choked. I’ve never seen a man look more terrified in my life,” she said softly, as if worried someone might hear what she was saying. Olenna nodded and sipped her wine, swallowing as she processed everything.

“Do you think he’s bedded her yet?”

“It’s hard to say, but if I could place my bets I would say yes. The day (Y/N) left for Dorne, Ser Elias came up to me and asked if I knew where she was, to which I responded ‘no, should I?’” She began, pausing for dramatic effect, “apparently she’d told him that she was spending the night in my chambers. I covered for her of course, but it was rather odd, and when I saw her later that day she looked unusually happy.”

Olenna merely nodded, and Margaery thought it was rather odd. She would’ve expected her grandmother to laugh. She did not know, of course, that a promise had been broken. Well, the Queen of Thorns would not let that stand.

—————

Tywin Lannister was making his way up the tower of the hand, returning from the King's chambers, where he had informed Tommen that he planned to lead 500 men to Winterfell to destroy Stannis. He expected to leave in a little over a week, though he knew you would not be happy with it and would most likely demand to come along. When he’d agreed to send 500 men, you expected he would send another to lead for him, such as Kevan. But, in all honesty, he missed battle just as much as you did. More than anything, he just wanted to leave King's Landing for a month or so.

Admittedly, he didn’t want to leave you. Dorne had been miserable for him, but he tried to rationalize how much he missed you by telling himself it was merely because he was worried about your safety. 

While you’d been gone though, he had truthfully realized something else. It had been eating at him since you’d returned. 

“Lord Hand, Lady Tyrell is here to see you.”

Tywin had reached his chambers, and was surprised when the guards said that. Had you really climbed all the stairs? He knew you were mostly healed, but it seemed a bit strenuous all the same.

Opening the door and going inside, he looked around and did not see you. Were you in his bedroom? 

He ventured to find out, licking his lips somewhat anxiously at the thought of you waiting for him in bed. 

However, as he pushed open the door, he found your grandmother sitting at the small table in his room. There was a distinct shock in his eyes, and it gave Olenna great satisfaction.

“Lord Tywin, how lovely to see you. I have a feeling the sentiment is not shared, though. You were expecting my granddaughter, I would guess,” she said, rising from her seat and clasping her hands together.

“I did not realize you arrived today, Lady Olenna,” he said sharply, standing straighter and making sure that the initial shock on his face was nowhere to be seen. 

“Either way, the guards did tell you Lady Tyrell was waiting for you inside, and your first instinct was to come to the bedroom,” she noted, to which he scoffed and looked away from her. He would not tolerate this. 

“And that is relevant, why?” 

Olenna merely laughed, sitting back down and pouring herself some wine. 

“You’ve broken your promise, Tywin,” she noted, looking over at him smugly. He raised an eyebrow, sitting down across from her.

“I have done no such thing.”

“Then would you care to explain why my granddaughter has dresses in your closet?” She interrogated, making Tywin suck in his cheeks for just a moment. He was backed into a corner now, was it better to admit it or continue to resist? 

“I don’t blame you, Tywin. My granddaughter is quite beautiful, and I was aware that your restraint would tire eventually. I’d only like you to be honest with me so that I might be honest with you,” she said, watching Tywin pour himself some wine and take a rather large sip. 

“I would like you to know that (Y/N) presented herself to me, and that I attempted to protest. I had every intention to maintain my promise,” he told her after a moment, watching as she began to laugh.

“Oh, she’s just like me, that girl. And, it’s quite a thing isn’t it? You attempted. Come now, Tywin, we both know that’s certainly not the same as maintaining it. You wanted my granddaughter, just as she wanted you.”

Tywin involuntarily fidgeted with the ring on his finger. The one you had given him.

“I’ll be honest, yes I did. And I don’t regret it,” he said sharply, trying to maintain his confidence before your grandmother. 

“I’m glad, because now it’s time you actually uphold that promise. You recall just as well as I do what you vowed to do once you began to bed her,” Olenna remarked, watching the Old Lion look down into his lap.

“I need more time.”

“Perhaps you should’ve considered that before you decided to bed my granddaughter. I’m going to be frank with you, Tywin. My son intends to accept another marriage proposal for (Y/N) by the end of this week, and to have another one of her suitors end up dead will not look coincidental. If you have any intention of ever marrying my granddaughter, you ought to ask her now,” Olenna explained, watching fire ignite in Tywin’s eyes at the mention of another man marrying you. 

“I still have time. Even if the proposal is accepted, I have until the wedding planning begins. Your son might be an idiot, but he’s not so stupid he won’t understand that marrying his daughter to me makes infinitely more sense than some boy from a liege house,” Tywin reasoned.

“Of course, but then it will create conflict. Whichever damn lord my son intends to give her to will naturally be upset that the engagement was called off, and perhaps even more upset at House Lannister. Should that liege house decide to try and do something to spite you, you would feel compelled to do what you’ve always done and destroy them. Now, when that happens, there’s a unique dilemma for House Tyrell. Not only would we be failing to protect a liege house, but we’d be marrying our eldest child to the person that committed the assault. You need to propose now, Tywin, that’s all there is to it,” Olenna said sharply, making sure that Tywin completely understood the repercussions of him deciding to wait. The lion would keep his promise or watch the woman he loved be married off, there was no debate or compromise. 

Tywin sat there in silence, knowing your grandmother was right. It did have to be now, lest he hold his silence forever and be forced to see you married to some pathetic boy and swell with his children. 

No.

It was time now, and Tywin knew it just as well as your grandmother did. And the truth of it was, he did want to marry you. He wanted to claim you as his wife and spend the rest of his years with you, even if they should be only a few. But there was an underlying fear in him, especially as he recalled what you’d said the night the two of you had laid together for the first time.

You weren’t ready to marry him either.

He doubted that in the last two months or so that had changed, and it made him beyond anxious. 

“What are you thinking, Tywin? Men like you don’t usually stay quiet for very long,” Olenna said, interrupting his thoughts. 

“I’ve already procured a ring for your granddaughter. I’ve been intending to give it to her since she returned from Dorne,” he replied after a moment, watching Olenna’s eyebrows raise with surprise. She certainly had not expected that of him.

“A ring?”

“She gave me this one as a testament of our good relationship. I’d like to give her one of her own as a testament to my devotion to her. As a testament of my- my love,” he explained while showing her the ring you had given him so long ago. Your grandmother smiled at him.

“How romantic of you, Tywin. I would not have expected it.”

“I am worried she won’t accept it,” he said, ignoring the previous comment made and pouring himself more wine.

“You’re worried she won’t accept your marriage proposal? Don’t be ridiculous, Lord Tywin,” she remarked with a scoff, believing the man to be exaggerating or unnecessarily nervous.

“Before she left for Dorne was the first time I took her into my bed. Before I did, I told her that you had requested that I did not bed her without requesting her hand shortly afterwards. In response, she said that she understood I was not ready to marry her, just as she was not ready to marry me. If her sentiments have changed in the last month or so, then I am unaware,” he explained, watching her nod.

“Let me ask you something then. Before that night, did you already want to marry her?”

“No. I felt our relationship was too young.”

“And since then your sentiments have changed?”

Tywin paused, nodding and looking away from Olenna’s satisfied smirk.

“Then naturally, Tywin, I don’t think it’s fair to assume that my granddaughter's sentiments are still what they were.”

“Even so, I don’t want to pressure her. She’s always expressed a desire to live her life the way she wants to, and I’m not going to take that from her.”

“She doesn’t have a choice, Tywin. It’s you or a liege lord. My son is clearly relentless, and I’ve already been trying to slow him down. She’s not getting any younger, and she does need to marry and have children,” Olenna said, despite wishing you didn’t need to. She’d enjoyed watching you grow into yourself, and had always dreaded the day you got married. Somehow, though, she felt you would thrive with Tywin Lannister for a husband. 

“Even if she marries me, it’s important to consider that she-“

“She detests the idea of children, I’m aware. Perhaps it’s a good thing given that you’re so much older than she is,” she noted after a moment, leaving the bait out. Tywin had no clue it was a test.

“It’s not the idea of children that she detests, it’s losing her freedoms with it. She’s excellent with her younger siblings, and I have no doubt in my mind she would make an excellent mother. However, (Y/N) would kill herself if that’s all she was ever permitted to be,” he corrected, watching as a smile appeared on your grandmother's face. It reassured her, in a sense. It made her feel that perhaps Tywin truly did understand you, and it was not a lustful fling. 

“And so, I will come to my next point. Something I have meant to speak with either you or your son about before asking (Y/N)’s hand in marriage. Something I am going to demand,” he began, standing up to assert a certain level of confidence and dominance in the conversation. Olenna remained unphased. 

“You’re not in much of a position to make demands, Lord Tywin. Either you marry my granddaughter or somebody else will,” she said, raising both eyebrows at him to demonstrate just how genuine her statement was. 

“Tell me, Lady Olenna, if your son found out I was not only willing, but actually quite eager to marry your granddaughter, what do you imagine he would say?” Tywin questioned, already knowing exactly what the response would be, of course. 

“He would most likely jump up and down while clapping his hands together, the pathetic fool,” she mumbled, remembering just how excited Mace had been upon hearing Margaery would marry Joffrey. 

“Precisely. Your son is more eager to marry (Y/N) to me than (Y/N) is to be married to me. Therefore, I am in the position to be making demands. Demands that he is not going to like, mind you, but demands that he will fulfill in order to marry his daughter to me,” Tywin asserted, making Olenna’s face twist with distinct annoyance. Gods, Tywin Lannister really was an insufferable cunt, wasn’t he? She had not a clue as to what you liked about him. 

“You love and desire my granddaughter far too much to ever give her up, Tywin. Let’s not pretend that I’m a blasted fool.”

“Correct. I have every intention to take her as my wife, but your son doesn’t know that, and I would threaten to reject her should he not give in. Don’t look so annoyed, you’ll like this demand.”

“But my son won’t?”

“No.”

“Very well, what is it?”

“I will marry (Y/N) on one condition: she must remain head of the Tyrell army until she can no longer hold a sword. That is my demand,” Tywin said sharply, watching Olenna’s eyes widen.

“My son is not going to give into that demand easily.”

“Nevertheless, he will if he wants to see his eldest daughter married to the richest man in Westeros,” Tywin assured her, knowing the kind of man your father was. He would complain, and then he would do as he was bid. 

“What if he does not? The one thing he’s quite unrelenting in is making Loras the new head once (Y/N) has been wed,” Olenna questioned, knowing just how strongly your father felt about the subject. 

“He will.”

“Yes, you’re right. But hypothetically, what if he does not? Would you truly sacrifice marriage to my granddaughter over it?” She asked, genuinely curious now. Tywin did seem quite confident in the fact that Mace would accept his request. 

“No, of course not. I would give (Y/N) anything on earth that she desires, and if she desires to be my wife, then she will be. It’s exactly why I am making this demand. She desires to fight, she desires to lead. So she will,” he said simply, knowing that any other man might’ve been blind to your misery as merely a wife and mother. But no, Tywin would not see you unhappy, even despite his concerns. He would rather watch the garden be overgrown than see it barren after he had cut everything back. 

Olenna merely nodded at the man, rising from her chair with a distinct satisfaction. It was odd for Olenna to consider that Tywin Lannister, the coldest, most brutal man in all seven kingdoms seemed entirely enslaved to your wishes. 

Just as he had been a good husband to Joanna, your grandmother was confident he would be good to you. Somehow, she got the strange feeling that deep down, Tywin Lannister was a romantic. She likened him to something such as ember, once soft and hardened after all these years. 

Of course, he’d been rather harsh even as a boy, but it seemed those who managed to find a way into Tywin Lannister’s heart would have his utmost loyalty and devotion. So long as they did not do something that might remove that sentiment, anyways. 

He was a small, sturdy fortress. Fiercely protecting the few that could fit within his walls, and easily repelling those that did not. 

Yes, you would do well with Tywin Lannister for a husband, your grandmother had not a single doubt about it. And even more than that, you would be happy. 

Olenna wanted to laugh at the thought. Two years ago, even she would not have been able to conjure up the thought of you marrying Tywin Lannister, for love especially. Yet, even now, at 28 years old, you continued to surprise your grandmother. She supposed you always would. 

TAGLIST:

@cheyxfu @lemonscoffee @groovy-lady

@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter

@prettykinkysoul @nothing2113

@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8

@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws @girlonfireice @muscari-fae @lostgirllulu @abigfanofgameofthrones @smalltownbigheart @frombloodandflesh

[queen-scribbles]

Girls Night Out

Post-Gauntlet Keme & Elara friendship fic bc I caught a plot gizka off the most recent time through. ft Jaxo's Checking In mission and Elara giving relationship advice :3 [~3500 words]

---

The medcenter hallway was 763 tiles long.

Keme knew this because she'd counted them while pacing. Thrice.

The lovely thing about being Havoc's CO was that it allowed her to know the "status of her team" but didn't necessarily let her do what she wanted with that information. Which was why she was here, in the kriffing hallway, instead of in there. When the medcenter said no visitors they meant it. No exceptions for commanding officers.

She'd memorized the list of Jorgan's injuries, too.

Which was why she was here. Pacing the hallway. Instead of out enjoying the brief--rare--shore leave, or restocking, or any of the half dozen other things she could think to do.

It was hard to read the words "punctured lung" and not worry.

Keme finally halted and slouched in one of the barely-padded chairs, fingers nervously tapping the armrest as she stared at the wall. Please be okay.

[Punctured lung. Multiple contusions and blaster burns from sustained heavy fire. Significant plasma burns to left leg, extensive bone and nerve damage; below knee amputation recommended. Potential retinal--]

Footsteps echoed down the austere hall and Keme snapped to her feet. Her shoulders dropped fractionally seeing it was Dorne.

"Not to be insubordinate, Major-" the other woman began, settling into parade rest posture when she reached Keme.

Keme waved off the concern. "We're on leave, Elara. And regardless, if you're about to dispense medical advice, it's hardly insubordinate for you to do your job." She shifted her weight, fighting the urge to pace again.

"Very well. You should go do something, Keme. This" --she gestured to the hallway-- "is not healthy for you, and it isn't helping anyone."

Keme snorted and rubbed at gritty eyes with the heel of one hand. "Like what, Elara? I don't have anyone to visit, I'm not much for shopping, and I'll bet my next three paychecks I couldn't focus on a book or vid to save my--"

Her comm beeped with a message notification. Keme frowned. Garza or the medtechs would've commed, no reason for her parents to be contacting her right now... She spotted a terminal and headed for it, Elara on her heels.

"Something the matter, sir?" Elara asked.

"Don't know yet." Keme signed in and pulled up her messages. There were two--one text, one audio. The text file proved to be the official notice of their promotions; major for her, captain for Jorgan, lieutenant for Dorne, and the medals and commendations earned on the Gauntlet mission.

"Would've made captain soon if Command hadn't hung me out to dry." She chucked internally at the memory. Hope this wasn't too much of a delay for you.

The audio message was from Jaxo. "Hey, hotshot, heard you're back on Coruscant, with leave no less. Some friends and I were equally lucky, and we're gonna do something fun with it. Swing by if you wanna join us."

"That sounds like someone you could visit," Elara commented. "As a distraction."

Keme rolled her eyes as she closed down the terminal. "C'mon, how much fun d'you think I'll be tonight?"

"You never know," Elara said with a shrug. "Maybe once you start relaxing, it'll help more than you expect."

Keme chewed the inside of her cheek. Under other circumstances, it would be fun. Maybe she should give it a shot. "I'll go if you come with me."

Elara arched a brow. "I wasn't invited."

"So I'm inviting you," Keme said. "I'll tell Jaxo since we both have leave we're a package deal."

"Oh, alright. If it'll get you out of here."

Keme gave a wry smile. "Guess this means we need to go find other outfits, that fit the tone of having fun better."

"I suppose we should," Elara said with a faux-sigh, and they started down the hall.

Keme couldn't help a last look back over her shoulder, as if that would make a doctor materialize with an update and justify her staying.

It didn't.

---

This cantina was too loud. The first couple hadn't been bad, which almost made the pounding music and din of customer chatter worse. Keme took the drink--gizer ale--Jorda clumsily shoved in her hands and surveyed the crowd. Dancing, drinking...

The song changed and Keme wrinkled her nose. It was too loud to think in here, let alone really talk. She took a sip of her drink as that clicked. The other places they'd hit so far; five of the eight Jaxo had tallied at the start, were busy, noisy, but not so much to prevent conversation. She could listen to Jorda or Keran's war stories, Jaxo regaling them with one of her declassified exploits, and it was at least somewhat the distraction she needed.

With this place too loud to think, her thoughts were slipping back to the default track, even as she sought some level of refuge at the high tables away from the dance floor.

Punctured lung. Multiple contusions and blaster burns from sustained heavy fire. Significant--

"Hey." Jaxo hoisted herself up on one of the other tall chairs. "This seems a dang'rous combo with drunk people," she muttered, briefly distracted, before looking back at Keme. "Why don't you look like you're havin' fun? The whole point of this is t' have fun!"

"It's too loud in here." Wasn't technically a lie; she was all but hollering just to talk. "Can hardly hear myself think."

Jaxo snorted. "Y' aren't s'pposed to think, you're s'pposed to dance, have fun, drink people under the table." She studied Keme for a moment, expression sobering at the half-shrug she got in response. "You've been quiet all night, come to think. Dorne looks like she's havin' more fun than you." She lightly kicked the side of Keme's boot. "Didn't you just save the Republic an' get a big promotion?"

"Yeah," Keme acknowledged, distracted by a specific flicker of movement as Elara worked her way through the crowd.

"Well, I've about had my fill of this sort of fun," she commented, setting her half-drunk Johrian whiskey on the table and claiming the remaining chair.

Jaxo rolled her eyes. "Think you've rubbed off on your CO, Dorne; she'd rather sit an' mope into her drink than celebrate."

Elara let the jibe roll off without acknowledgement, giving her attention to the latter part. "The promotion may be cause for celebration, but since the squad XO was seriously injured in the course of that mission, I think her reticence is understandable, don't you?"

Jaxo had the grace to wince at the explanation. "Didn't know that part, sorry, major." She nudged Keme's shoulder. "Still, you being all sullen an' worrying isn't gonna help him get better any faster, right?" Isn't it better to be in a good frame of mind for dealing with whatever Command throws your way?" She glanced around the room, did a double take and grinned when it passed over the others from their group. "Looks like Keran found us some new friends." She slid off the seat, tottered a little finding her balance, and flashed Keme a genuine smile. "Hope you'll feel up to joining us, hotshot."

Keme appreciated Elara's silence as they watched her leave, headed for the gaggle of clean-cut 'friends' who had joined Keran and Jorda.

"How d'you think she'd feel, knowing she agreed with you?" Keme sighed, folding her hands over her cup and resting her chin atop them.

"About what?" Elara took another sip of her whiskey.

"Relaxing's the point of shore leave. Unwinding so you're ready for your next assignment." She tried not to dwell on the likelihood Havoc would be running a member short for whatever theirs was.

The song changed, something slightly quieter, and she sighed in relief at the reprieve.

A small smile tugged Elara's lips and she swirled the remaining whiskey in her glass. "True as that is, and as good as it would be for your mental state regardless, I think you were 'wound' a bit further than the rest of us, so it follows it'll take you longer to unwind."

"But you two also have a point there," Keme said, idly watching the animated body language of Jaxo and Keran's "friends". A challenge had clearly been issued; Jorda plunked a tray of shots down on the table. "What good does worrying do? Not gonna speed up the healing process, not even gonna magically create an exception to the 'no visitors' policy." She straightened with a huff. "But it's like I can't help myself."

"Well, I'd say concern for your people when they get injured in the line of duty makes you a good CO." Elara raised her glass and slanted a mischievous look at Keme over the rim. "Though I'm under no illusions it would be quite so much a... distraction, in my case."

Keme made a strangled noise of indignation. "I- You're my friend, of course I'd worry-!"

"I know, and I'd appreciate it," Elara said with a smile. A loud whoop dragged their attention to where Jaxo was clearly winning whatever game was going on. "I also know this is different."

"No point playing dumb, huh?" Keme groaned and rubbed her temples. "It is and I don't know why."

Elara scoffed, barely audible under the music. "No? Need I remind you the ship's medbay is right next to the armory?" She arched a brow. "Or that I have functional ears and it isn't as if you two whisper?"

She should probably be a little embarrassed by the implication, but she wasn't. Keme slugged down half her drink in a go, cleared her throat at the burn. "Then you know it's just been talking." So far, she added mentally. "Maybe a little flirting, but nothing serious, nothing to justify wringing my hands over him getting hurt. 'Specially in this line of work."

Elara studied her. "Keme." She set her now-empty glass on the table. "Jorgan didn't just 'get hurt', he was seriously injured, almost died--"

"Thanks for preventing that, by the way," Keme muttered into her drink, suppressing a flinch at hearing it so bluntly.

"You're welcome. My point is, just because you two have been outwardly taking your time, exhibiting caution due to your positions, doesn't mean your heart was on the same timetable." She leaned back in her chair. "You've not done anything by half-measure since I met you, it would hardly be a surprise for this to follow the pattern. And... close calls like this can easily serve as catalyst for realizing the true depth of feelings."

"Very astute." Keme finished the last swallow of her drink and slid off the seat to stretch. "Both the advice and the noticing."

"As I said, it's not hard to pick up." Elara smiled and likewise slid out of her chair. The song changed back to something that pounded, prompting the two of them to head for the relative quiet of the street.

"Well, in that case, thanks for not reporting me for fraternization or something," Keme said dryly, taking a deep breath of comparatively cooler air.

"I don't see a need," Elara said, shrugging. "It's clearly mutual, and hasn't kept either of you from doing your jobs, quite well. So long as it doesn't interfere with operational effectiveness, I don't see it as my place to report anything you or Captain Jorgan haven't, sir."

Keme slanted a glance her way, smirked at the mischief glinting in her friend's eyes. "You playing matchmaker now, LT?"

(A small but undeniable pulse of glee burrowed through her gnawing worry at 'clearly mutual'.)

Elara tilted her head, brows arching in faux-innocence. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, major. Should I stop??"

"Depends, do you think I need the help?"

"I have every confidence in your ability to pursue a man who's interested in you," Elara deadpanned. "If that's what you're asking."

Keme snorted. "Thanks. Then I guess it's just a matter of if you wanna be complicit should we get written up for fraternization down the line."

Elara perked up. "Oh, there's a form authorizing romantic relationships."

Of course there is. And of course you knew about it off the top of your head. "Great, more paperwork. Jorgan'll be thrilled."

"I think he'd do it for you."

"I think we should wait until it's actually a relationship before we worry about that, rather'n just flirting, huh?"

"If you insist," Elara said with a shrug.

Keme wondered what the odds were that form would be downloaded and waiting to be called for, when she was ready. Probably pretty high. She looked up, watching the racing lights of traffic flight paths for a minute. "Thanks, Elara. 'M sorry Jaxo's not exactly warm and welcoming, but I'm glad you came along."

"I was an unexpected addition," Elara said mildly. "And I'm far from ignorant of my reputation among Republic personnel. Their opinion of me is their business. Staying true to myself is mine."

Keme nodded. Good outlook. "How much d'you think it would shock them if we rejoin and I said you're the one who talked me out of moping and into havin' fun?"

Elara snickered. "Oh, that might almost be worth stretching the truth."

It wasn't that much of a stretch; talking about her muddled feelings had helped her feel better. More like celebrating. But they didn't get a chance to run their experiment. Even as they turned to head back inside, Jaxo and the others emerged from the cantina.

"Another one down," Jaxo crowed, hooking an arm around Keran's neck. "An' our tab's covered 'cause I drank her Navy buddies under the table!"

Ah. So that's who they were. "Quite the achievement," Keme drawled. "Where to next?"

"Done moping, major?" Jaxo teased.

Keme shrugged. "You and Elara made some good points. Tonight should be for fun."

Jaxo was too tipsy to hide her surprise. "Yeah? Glad we, uh, got through to you. We still have two stops left, hotshot. I expect you to pull your weight for them."

"Aye, aye," Keme said with a mock salute that Jorda found hilarious from her loud bout of laughter.

"Right then." Jaxo steered the group toward a taxi stand. "On to the Sloppy Tauntaun!"

Keme gave a startled bark of laughter. "That is not its name!"

"Oh, you're in for a treat," Jaxo sniggered as they piled into a cab. "Hole in the wall cantinas are the best."

---

Keme wasn't completely sure she'd agree with Jaxo's assessment once they're had their fun at the ironically well-kept Sloppy Tauntaun--she preferred cantinas with a bit of polish--but the drinks were good and they did have fun.

Last stop was the Silent Sun because it was closest to Jaxo's place. Smart move on her part; Jorda couldn't make it more than a few steps without giggling, Keran and Elara were weaving a little, and even with her slow start, Keme was feeling the buzz of not-quite-drunk(but more-than-tipsy). Still. She could walk a straight line, so not too bad. And she knew now Elara could match Jaxo shot for shot, which was fun information and had definitely increased Jaxo's opinion of the Havoc medic.

They'd turned down the hallway to Jaxo's place, Jorda now leaning on Elara while Jaxo punched in her access code--it took two tries, Maybe she was more plastered than she showed--when Keme's datapad beeped. She glanced at it out of habit.

Medcenter alert.

The pleasant alcohol buzz was gone.

She didn't open the message but its mere arrival was a reminder of reality.

Later. I'll deal with it after we leave. It still felt like her datapad was burning a hole in her pocket. She shook it off and followed the others into Jaxo's place. There was still the harsh reality of she couldn't do anything(except pace a groove in the hall), anyway.

"Hey. "Jorda's hand settled heavy on her shoulder. "You're amazing, y'know?" She blinked like a newly-sighted loth-kitten. "J'st amazing. Savin' our butts on Quesh? The Gauntlet? Amazing," she proclaimed with all the gravitas of an emphatic drunk.

"Thank you, Jorda," Keme said with a chuckle.

Elara materialized, gently tugging on Jorda's arm. "I think it would be best for you to lie down a bit, Corporal. Jaxo said you can use her bed, come on."

"Well, this was fun," Keran drawled as Keme joined her and Jaxo. "'Specially now that you've guaranteed I'll get heckled for the next month."

"Hey," Jaxo said with a grin and shrug. "If your Navy buddies can't drink a sweet little thing like me under the table, that's their problem, not yours. You heckle them right back."

Keran laughed. "Good plan. On that note, I better get going. We ship out late tomorrow, so I should work on sleeping off the incoming hangover. See ya 'round, Jaxo, Major."

"Later, Keran," Jaxo said, turning to Keme as Keran headed out. "Glad you made it. Even if it took a while for you to get in the spirit."

"I did need the distraction," Keme allowed, trying not to dwell on the medcenter alert. "Sorry I was a bit of a drag."

"Hey." Jaxo shrugged. "While I'm of a mind we should enjoy the good times when she get 'em, you had a pretty decent reason for that being tricky." She hesitated a moment, smile tugging her lips, then, "I gotta ask, this XO of yours... wouldn't happen to be the grumpus watchin' your six when we worked together, would it?"

Keme huffed a laugh. "Yeah. He's good at it."

"'Course he is." Jaxo snickered and sobered. "Well, I wish him a speedy recovery. And maybe Havoc can wrap this war up quick for us, huh?"

"You lookin' to swap for a desk job, Sergeant?" Keme teased.

Jaxo barked a laugh. "Please. I'd go insane inside a month." Her gaze flicked to the side as Elara rejoined them. "Am I gonna need to clean any of my stuff?"

Elara shook her head. "Not so far. But I would advise making sure she stays hydrated."

Jaxo gave a mock salute. "Aye, aye." She flopped back on the couch. "I'll let you two go. Thanks for coming."

"Yeah, sure," Keme said with a wave as she and Elara made for the door. "Thanks for the invite."

"Anytime, Major," Jaxo called after them just before the door closed.

They had to keep an eye for gangsters and so didn't have time for conversation until they were in the speeder back to the Senate district.

"Glad you went?" Elara asked lightly.

"Yeah. Needed the distraction," Keme said even as she dug out her datapad and pulled up the unread message. "Unfortunately, reality is persistent and has really bad timing..." She only skimmed the first couple sentences before handing the datapad to Elara. "Medcenter alert. You're better with parsing the jargon than I am."

One corner of Elara's mouth twitched and she took the datapad, lips moving silently as she read. "It's a treatment update... they were able to repair the retinal damage with no scarring..."

Good the squad sniper's vision isn't compromised, Keme thought sardonically, something tight easing in her chest.

"...they did have to amputate, the requisition for a cybernetic leg is attached. Being in SpecForce, particularly Havoc, that should be filled by end of day tomorrow; Command will want their top unit at full strength ASAP..." she read further. "...overall prognosis is good; full recovery and return to duty within two standard weeks."

"That fast?!" Keme blurted. She wanted Jorgan back, no question, but not because the medcenter rushed him out the door.

"The miracle of kolto," Elara said, shutting down the datapad and handing it back.

"And skilled medical personnel, and you," Keme added, tucking the datapad away. The tightness in her chest and gut eased further.

Elara arched a brow. "Wouldn't I fall under 'skilled medical personnel'?"

"No, 'cause you saved his damn life in the field, without access to all the fancy equipment here, that puts you in a category all your own, Dorne," Keme retorted.

"Don't forget Forex while you're doling out praises," Elara said, glancing at the buildings whizzing by.

"Oh, never. I've already bugged Garza twice about giving him whatever's the best commendation we can wrangle for a droid." Keme smirked a little, toying with the clasps of her jacket. "Squad loyalty and cohesion are grand."

"Your leadership's helped us get there," Elara said. "You're a fine commanding officer, and if I may say so, an even better friend."

"You may, and thank you." Keme shifted in her seat as the speeder pad came into view. "You're a good friend, too, Elara. Right down to talkin' me into girls' night out when I wasn't sure about it."

"That's what friends are for, sir," Elara said as the speeder settled on the pad and they climbed out. "As well as supporting you in rough times," she added when Keme's gaze went toward the medcenter. "Heading back?"

"Just to check in. Then--unless by some miracle the 'no visitors' policy has vanished--it's back to the Starbreaker for some rest."

"Sounds like a plan."

Keme nodded absently. Her bunk on the ship would be more comfortable than a medcenter chair, at least.

And she could always resume counting hallway tiles in the morning.

[cicaklah]

star trek picard episodes 1-3 thots

THE THOTS ARE BACK

So this post directly follows on from the angry freakout I had earlier this week where I live incepted myself into watching picard season 3 ride or die, because sometimes you've just got to go down to the highway and watch the car crash in person.

also, I reminded myself that I dont care about other people's star trek opinions, only my own. therefore, I needed to have star trek opinions.

here are my thots, here be spoilers

first off: gates mcfadden's face lift is fucking spectacular, the woman looks amazing. Her eye sockets are so sculpted, her cheeks are so taut, her jawline is so sharp, and yet she still looks her age. this is what growing old in the socialist utopia promises: you too can look like a woman who has not actually had to work since the early 90s. also credit to everyone looking great in their 60s, 70s and 80s.

second: jack crusher (the second??!?! how does that work anyway), is so fucking hot.

third: I went into this knowing broadly what happened in episode 1 and 2, and that episode 3 the twist is changelings, because I saw a spoiler yesterday on una mccormack's tumblr. changelings is interesting, because to do a ds9 plot in tng is bold, especially when you can't bring odo back since ya man rene audeboujournois died a few years ago. worf doesnt even mention him by name: ffs worf raffi was alive during the dominion war, she'll know who fucking odo is. he's odo.

fourth: the moment I was like, I am here for the long run was Worf's whole introduction and his everything. I think its always hard to give credit to michael dorn for being so great because he has to act stoic through SO much makeup and he just is worf, but honestly, it felt like if they'd just put the black hair on him he would have looked exactly the same as he did thirty years ago. Like they had to make his hair white just to make time have passed. The man is so well preserved, maybe he also has a very good surgeon, but I am down to believe that he just Is Like That. Damn.

five: worf is the best thing that happened to raffi, I love them together, they are the best team.

six: all of this is going to fall apart when brent spiner comes to Lore it all up, as that is obviously what was stolen from the daystrom institute alongside the portal gun.

seven: so episode 3 won me over because I had kind of forgotten how good an actor patstew is when he really gives it?? because fuck me the scene between beverly and picard where they talk about how the whole baby thing happened was so good, so subtle, so emotive. It also crucially made sense: they had tried to be together. they had failed to be together. crusher was tired of his shit, he's always been a terrible partner and it just didn't work, but then she was pregnant and ready to leave anyway, ready to move on, so just went, fine, breakup over, beverly out. Also, reminded picard that the universe keeps trying to kill him, that he'd basically killed her husband and her son, and she had no other family....thanks for the sperm donation, I'm gonna go retire and have a redo. I was already 100% team bev but now I am 200% team bev, also fuck off picard with your 'oh yeah actually I wouldn't have been my horrible abusive father fuck you for taking me at my word, my whole /r/childfree carefree bachelor attitude, how could I have known anything about myself in my early 60s, I was but a boy, we could have had it all, rolling in the deep' etc. Father and husband fuck the fuck off you traditionalist old bastard you just told us you had broken up for the FIFTH TIME.

eight: should have reserved point seven for seven herself but: SEVEN!!!! I am fucking going to do it, I'm going to write the seven of nineifesto. She is so fucking deep waters, shes been so betrayed by authority figures none of who actually give a shit about whats best for her, just for what is best for the story, she is not meant to be in starfleet ffs, she got the worst possibly mentors in janeway and picard. also seven and raffi just need to hang out with worf and tell the rest of them to fuck off.

nine: captain shaw was right and he should say it. He was having a nice time, just running his ship, doing his duty, when he gets fucking hijacked by two guys who literally are mavericks and crash ships all the time, who are manipulating seven, who MUTINIES, and they literally destroy his ship and ruin his life in the space of about 12 hours and he saw through their bullshit within 30 seconds of the 'surprise inspection' gig. justice for captain liam shaw, only sane man on the titan.

ten: look, the show is never going to stick the landing, but like all star trek, it is a journey. there are changelings, there is worf, there is raffi, there is my forthcoming 200k seven of nine fix it fic, there is so much to enjoy, and also there was the absolutely awful deaging makeup, please stop doing it, it made me feel seasick.

anyway these are my thots on yaoi kthxbye

[unicorncornflakes]

Little one fic related:

They say the greens won the war. But did they really? Helaena, the most innocent of the greens, lost her mind and all her children excluding Jaheara. Aemond is one the most hated men in westeros, he started the war and was forever cursed by being a kinslayer. Aegon... fuck Aegon I'm not gonna even start on that one. Daeron Made it out somewhat normal. Jaheara is stuck forever in those war moments even such a young girl, tormented by her twins death and loving her uncle Daeron who I am sure like any Westeros man thinks he's all might and glory but in reality is just a man with a sword that cannot save her from being eventually sold off like Y/N to the one who will bring the most use to the crown and she while being the only living child of the current monarchs will be passed in the inherentance (ironic isnt it?). Alicent arguably lost all her children to war even if they are alive.. Otto lost his life. Oh also Aemond lost his balls. Where are you ball, Aemond? Not found. The council of greens have suffered greatly too i am sure . So in a way no one won the war and everyone is paying the price. Okay maybe Dorne won because they stayed the fuck away from it (good for them honestly).

Basically, this is the great plot of Little One. The story is a reflection that no one wins in war. There are no victors, there is no glory or power, only destruction and sorrow. There are no winners, only losers and the children have to pay for the sins of the parents. Little One is not only called that way because her main character is quite young, but also because she is also small, having not lived through or suffered from the war. She is young in spirit and mind, but still the long shadow of those who came before her oppress her. The Greens are undoubtedly the big losers of the war, to think that they claim to have won it. Little One is a story where everyone is a loser, and very possibly will continue to be (And really, I'll always have my heart with them, that's why I'm on their team, but I really believe that this is one of the versions of what would happen if they had won). Aegon is now a monster led by his brother, who knows full well that he will always be hated. Jaehaera is a collateral casualty of the war, just like her mother. And Daeron is a lost man who tries to return the speldor to his house by being the best gentleman he can be, but he knows that he is failing. Y / N is only involved in a plan that escapes her understanding, in which green and black continue to fight from the shadows, because only one of them is left standing, the conflict will not end. I like your way of analyzing it, because I think it encompasses the truth of what is happening to them now. Sad but true.

And yes! Dorne always wins for me. They are my favorite as well ;)

[hyperfixatedimagines]

Hello, I just want to say you have no idea how much I love your fics and you are such a good writer. I've always found writing stories/fictions so fascinating and you really intrigued me into studying/learning the process of writing. I'm just curious how you come up with ideas/characters/settings/storyline overall. You don't need to share if you don't want to but if it's okay, can you ? It would be helpful for me as I am currently learning how to write a book <3

Oh wow, this is beyond super sweet thank you!! If you're planning to write a book I'm sure there are hundreds others better qualified to give advice but I can definitely share my process and how I work.

For requests, the person requesting gives me really good bones most of the time in terms of plot and setting. Most of the time they give traits for the reader to have as well so it's more about filling in the blanks with dialogue.

For the original fics I come up with it really varies. In terms of the Queen & her Lady I wanted something where the reader and alicent would have to see each other frequently and a reader who didn't have to struggle with same sex attraction and repression as a contrast to alicent as a character. Dorne is such a stark contrast to the rest of westeros & they aren't a part of this point in history so there's lots of room to play in without getting characterization wrong because there isn't much for the Dornish characters at this point in the story.

In my original non-fan fiction work. I struggle a lot more as it's all on me in terms of characters/setting/plot/pacing but I really like to work from a singular feeling/theme/character/relationship and sort of build the rest from that small bit.

I hope at least one part of this whole ramble was helpful to you! If you'd like to chat more my dm's are always open! I wish you luck with your novel! <3

[eleasis20]

That's what multiple playthroughs are for. Pretty much EVERYBODY used Minsc/Dynaheir/Khalid/Jaheira/Imoen first time round. That's why they became the canon party. Then play again and get....creative. For example, I personally LOVE Neera, but many others do not. One thing BG1 has over 2 is how MANY potential party members there are, scattered all over the map. BG2 has far fewer, but their lore is much deeper

yeee I'm a stickler for "canon" bc I like to play as the story intends kind of, like ik most of plot anyway so ik I'm going to want to have Imoen/Dyanheir/Minsc/Khalid/Jaheira at the end of SoD bc that's who BG2 assumes you had with you.

but also having said that I keep swtiching them out a lot bc I want to do the quests lmao. Neera was super fun, loved her character & her quest. Don't really see why people wouldn't like her but? oh well.

Rasaad seems fun but havent triggered his quest yet. Apologies to Dorn and Baeloth but I do not care so they've been abandoned. Edwin, Xzar and Montaron have been abandoned for being mean. Branwen, Viconia, Ajantis, Xan and Garrick have also been abandoned bc they're not parituclarly interesting to me?

I liked Kivan a lot but got bored after his quest was done so he's also abandoned in the wilds lmao. Yeslick got p much the same treatment, so did Kagain lol. Kept Faldorn for like 5 minutes then abandoned her (also felt bad for having her in the same party as Jaheira).

I have taken Eldoth but only bc I want Skie for a story event ik happens.

I know basically nothing about the BG2 companions so that'll be fun to figure out on the fly lmao

One thing I think BG3 really improved on is the camp system, where you can activate their quests without having them constantly in ur party. I lost Dynaheir in a nondescript forest so that was a fun little 30 minute search party. Also, Neera, I'm dropping u off for 5 minutes then coming back for you, stop insulting me pls i feel baddddd.

In my head I have most of the companions chilling at camp bc fuck leaving them in the middle of nowhere dude, thats mean.

[thumbtackcurious]

It's my last week working as as graphic designer, so I wanted to judge GoT house sigils based only on how they look.

No plot, no characterization, just vibes.

House Stark

I mean, it’s iconic. And for good reason—the fur on the neck becoming scales? Perfect. However, it does not look like a medieval sigil. This wolf belongs on an independent Northeast brewery’s IPA can, I don’t make the rules.

House Bolton

How many people do you have to flay before it becomes your brand? I desperately want to see the minimalist rebranding of the Bolton banner. I bet they have an insane branding document like the cosmic Pepsi one.

House Mormont

So medieval, so fucked up. I think this is my childhood dog (RIP). Also, the name Bear Island goes so unbelievably hard?? If I lived on Bear Island, I’d never shut up about it. “Oh, why were you late to work today?” “I’m sorry, I live on Bear Island. Do you want to come with me to Bear Island and find out why it’s called that?”

House Karstark

What is this. I mean, really…

House Glover

Very reminiscent of the United States Handball Association logo, which means 12/10. None of the other sigils get rankings but this one does, and it knocks it out of the park. I do think handball would be very popular in Westeros. The south would have one wall, and everyone in the north would say that it’s a sign of southern softness to play with the big ball instead of classic three wall. Pickle ball would come out of Dorne and nearly cause another war. There would be shit like “the king’s courts” and at least one royal assassination during a handball tournament.

House Hornwood

This is just the Wolverhampton Wolves logo which has caused me to develop the WWCU (Wolverhampton Wolves Cinematic Universe), an elaborate conspiracy theory that every major piece of media in the last twenty years has a logo involving a different animal styled in this way. Once all the animals are discovered the pattern will reveal the apocalypse date which will simultaneously be the date the Wolves become champions.

House Manderly

What, is he fucking standing? This is dumb and I hate it. Great angles up top, absolute dogshit bottom half.

House Reed

This one is right up there with the Targaryen dragons. The circle, the rarely used animal, full body with all four legs? We’ve checked all the boxes! I bet house Reed has some kickass alligator jewelry as well. I think this is my favorite sigil of all of them.

House Ryswell

Whatever I say about this won’t matter because house Ryswell is about to be sued by Dreamworks for violating the copyright of Spirit: Stallion of Cimarron (2002).

House Downwood

[Insert Colorado tourism slogan here]

House Tully

I like the fish, but there’s something about it that feels off. I think it’s that you’re conditioned to read the field as separate from the sigil itself, but the Tullys just have to be different and soooo clever with their little river.

***WARNING: HERON RANT***

If I was a high lord of a place called the Riverlands, I would not use a fish as my sigil. Fish are everywhere, and not respected as part of the food chain. They are there to hunted and eaten, and it’s not cool to kill a fish like it is a stag or a boar. Instead, I’d use the heron. Herons are dope as hell, they literally stand above their prey, they’re precise and deadly, and they look noble. Have you ever seen a heron fly over a river? They practically glide with one or flaps. One of their relatives is literally called the kingfisher!

To go one step further, I would also force all the conquered houses under my domain to change their banner to different types of fish. Then I’d literally be the hunter with my prey all working for me. That is how you develop brand recognition and how you sow discontent into the minor lords until one of them murders you.

House Frey

I love a good building on a shield. Show me those castellations! I bet the people who have this sigil are good, solid, dependable folk :)

House Whent

This is insane. Why are there bats? Why are they in a diamond? Why are they so high up? Why aren’t they centered horizontally? If I was a steward of this house I would willing die in my first battle. This un-inspires confidence. Garbage.

I had to come back like an hour after I made this list because it hit me: another WWCU.

House Arryn

This is one of those ones that you can totally see on a banner riding into battle. Excellent distinguishability, great use of black and white, no bats, 8/10.

House Royce

Come with me on a journey: it’s been a thousand years since any kind of monarchy ruled. An interstate runs right through King’s Landing. The Westeros EPA has been working to remove toxic waste from the Trident for over a decade. People are making tiktok dances on top of Dragonstone. You’re going for a history hike through Gulltown, and you end up at the local castle. When you walk across the threshold, do you want the fading carving in the stone to be this, or some dumbass dance troupe of bats? I thought so. House Royce is thinking ahead, they have built their sigil to be a ruin, and we all need to thank them for it.

House Blackgard

Just good shit. Great use of the field as well. No notes, just daggers.

House Warth

Fuck off.

House Tymber

I theory it’s great, the blue is lovely, very Gonder-esque. However, as a graphic design who lives in a state with a tree for a logo, they suck to work with. I would not wish this sigil upon my work enemy. You’re telling me I have to remember all the branches? And they angles they sit at? I’d rather join the Karstarks.

House Tradd

Gucci, Lois Vuitton, Tradd. Put it on a bag!

House Tyrell

Sand dollar? Flower? Sand worm from Dune? This is actually a military tactic—your enemies will be so busy deciphering your banners that they won’t even notice the Kwisatz Haderach flanking them.

House Tarly

Shrimp check. Christmas-ass color choices. Be glad the bats are here, because they’re lowering the bar for you.

House Florent

What a cutie! Oh, he’s a little fucked up, actually. I do love this one. It’s like 1500 years and an industrial revolution away from ending up on Rae Dunn pottery.

House Oatwright

Do NOT block the intersection! This one feels the most like an actual medieval shield—I think it’s got a lot of staying power. Don’t worry about the fads, just do what works for you and it’ll work out! This sigil never plucked its eyebrows as a child, and you just have to respect that.

House Lannister

A classic. Too classic? You know this was designed by committee. This is my theory that the Lannisters are actually super boring because they are so committed to self-advancement that they never take any risks. This is the plain black phone case of sigils (spoken as someone with a plain black phone case).

House Baratheon

I love a stag! There’s something about a prey animal that can also kill you that is so good. Although this particular stag is a little too close to joining the WWCU—add some texture to the field and we’ll be out of the danger zone.

House Harrigon

Dude you already live in a place called Smithestone, don’t make it your whole personality.

House Droft

ENOUGH! No more anvils! We’ve moved past the need for anvils. Make your swords by burning them with dragon fire and stomping on them with a dragon’s foot. Now that’s industry.

House Targaryen

ICONIC. SHOWSTOPPING. EATING ITS OWN TAIL AS A METAPHOR FOR INCEST. SHE CAN DO. IT. ALL.

House Martell

The thing that really gets me about this sigil is that there’s not linework between the middle of the spear and the sun. It makes no sense; we need some consistency here! Do not trust this house, they don’t have a proper graphics review process. What’s the metal for the graphic design link on a maester’s chain? House Martell couldn’t tell you.

House Greyjoy

Squid that is also somehow a pair of fallopian tubes? It’s more likely than you think. We could get a little more padding on the edges, but the black and gold is an excellent combo. Still classy, but not played out like red and gold (look at you, Lannister).

[forwithinthishollowcrown]

ACOB historical counterparts:

Aliandra as Eleanor of Aquitaine:

Eleanor was considered to be beautiful, incredibly intelligent, and strong willed. She was also raised by her father to be his heir to Aquitaine which made her one of the wealthiest heiresses in all of Europe at the time and the people of Aquitaine adored her her whole life. She was also quite close to her sister, Petronilla, and supported her in her pursuit of a relationship with Count Raoul (even though he was married and it was quite scandalous). She also faced more than her fair share of nasty rumors. Aliandra shares similar character traits: beautiful, intelligent, strong willed, etc. She will be raised by Qoren to be his heir to Dorne and I definitely think the people will adore her (as she is clearly Dornish as opposed to some of her other siblings). I also think that she’d be incredibly loyal to her siblings (even when they are in the wrong) and would be one of the first people to defend Qyle taking Aemond’s eye and would argue against Aemma’s betrothal. However, her heritage, looks, and charming and flirtatious nature could lead to some people in other areas of Westeros gossiping and spreading rumors about her

Visenya as Catherine the Great:

Catherine the Great grew up under her strict and abusive mother and was arranged to a less than great husband (Peter) who was the heir to Russia. However, she did the best with what she was given and wholeheartedly cared about her new home. She converted to the local faith, changed her name, and made a concerted effort to assimilated into the culture. She did her best to grow Russia’s power and influence during her reign and is regarded as one of the best rulers of Russia in its history. While Rhaenyra and Qoren would be loving parents, they would have to focus a lot of their energy and time on their respective heirs (Jace and Aliandra) which could leave Visenya feeling alone. I think it would be interesting to see Visenya going to Winterfell and actually thriving there. Her parents are worried that she won’t like living in a place that’s so different to where she grew up and the Northerners expect her to act like a total southerner and turn her nose up at them and their lifestyles. But she surprises everyone (including herself) by how much she actually loves it there and the people love and respect her. Maybe she could play a role in defending her husband’s claim when his uncle Bennard tries to usurp him and later on trying to get people to recognize how important and vital the North is to the realm

Baela as Eleanor of Provence with hints of Marie Antoinette:

Eleanor had a loving relationship with her husband and she was a devoted wife and mother. However, she was extremely unpopular with the people and was once even attacked by a crowd of peasants. Marie Antoinette was an Austrian who married the heir to the French throne. This match was highly controversial as many of the French people were still highly untrusting of the Austrians and even accused Marie at times during her husband’s reign for not caring enough for the French and being “too Austrian”. She was placed in an impossible situation. Like Eleanor, I imagine Baela and Jace to have a very happy relationship and that she would be a great wife and mother. However, she is technically married to “the enemy”. She like Marie is placed in an impossible situation. If she supports her husband and his ambitions, she’s turning her back on her family, her blood. If she asks for clemency or mercy for the teals, she’s a traitor who may be plotting against her husband. For example, I can’t imagine that defending Aemond won her any favors with the Blacks. She loves people on every faction and doesn’t want war but she has to do what’s best for her children. Out of everyone, I think she (like Eleanor) will receive a lot of flack from the people and (like Marie) will receive a lot of negative press and a bad reputation/legacy

OH MY GOSH! I love these thank you so much anon!

[calliethetrekkie]

15. Top 3 favorite alien crewmembers?

16. If you could steal the basic plot of an episode for one show and apply to another which would you choose?

19. You can undo one plot point, which do you choose?

Oh wow, I didn't think I'd ever get an Ask for that meme haha. But alrighty, let me see here...

15. Top 3 favorite alien crewmembers?

Spock

Deanna Troi

Worf

Now that list might change when I eventually get past TNG, but for now that's where I am.

16. If you could steal the basic plot of an episode for one show and apply to another which would you choose?

Huh... good question. I did mention on my main how I would LOVE to see a TOS version of the TNG episode Attached. Specifically I mentioned Spock and McCoy in part for shipping reasons, but even in a general sense they'd be by far the most fun and interesting to see in that dilemma. It would also allow them to develop more of an understanding, so you have character development as well. The episode in TNG didn't do it for me because I don't ship Picard and Crusher whatsoever and while I like their general relationship, the episode didn't really provide anything new for me to care about. But I would be ALL for it if it was int hat scenario or any combo of the Triumvirate really, I just think that Spock and McCoy would be the most entertaining/interesting considering their bickering XD

19. You can undo one plot point, which do you choose?

Good question... well, of the series I've seen thus far:

TOS: The upside to TOS is that for the most part if you don't like something, you can safely ignore it due to the show not being continuity heavy. If I had to get rid of something... I'd undo the stupid 'women can't be Starship captains' bullshit from The Turnabout Intruder. Which I'm fairly sure most everything that takes place in TOS or earlier also ignores it and for good reason because for a future society to have that kind of rule is so stupid. It's only there cause 60's sexism, and it feels like the episode was trying to prove that 'see? women are too emotional and unstable to be captains'. You can certainly put a new view on it in the modern times, I've seen plenty that still work. But for a show that was progressive in so many ways, its treatment of women in general could be horrendous, and the fact that the series ended with it is a shame.

AOS: There's SO many things that I would undo if I could. If I have to pick one... I'd get rid of Vulcan's destruction. I still don't get the point of why they did that except to give Spock angst. It and fridging Amanda like they did just felt overly cruel and didn't really have any impact in the long-run. Spock had enough angst cause of being half-human and the bullying he received, was destroying his whole planet and race and killing hos mother necessary whatsoever when you had plenty to work with? No. It didn't. You could have had Vulcan attacked and massive casualties and damage, the extent it went was just too much imo.

TNG: I wanna list almost everything in Generations... but I haven't seen it in full so I'll stick to things in the show I've seen. In which case, I pick them killing off K'Ehleyr. An interesting, badass female character with her own struggles who really shined in her two episodes... and they fridge her for Worf's character and to dump a kid on him. While the scene in itself is well done, and you feel the agony and rage that Worf feels when he finds the body (thank you Michael Dorn), I was so freakin' angry it's not even funny. It had long-term impact, I'll give it that, but I'm still angry about it. I wish it had at least been done as an ending of K'Ehleyr's story and give her that agency, not just for Worf's character plot.

[delfiore]

the principles of pleasure

pairing: rhaenyra targaryen x fem!martell!reader

synopsis: the princess learns to give in to her desires with an envoy from dorne.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: some spicy stuff but no actual smut

a/n: ik i said no incest but there wILL BE A SLIGHT MENTION of the deed that rhaenyra and daemon did in that brothel because it’s essential to the plot 🧍‍♀️

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You stood out like a sore thumb.

They say a star would sooner fall upon the earth before a Dornishman set foot into the capital. Yet, here you were.

Despite whispers and chatters of the surrounding lords and ladies—clearly aimed at you—you never bat an eye. Instead, your eyes found Rhaenyra’s across the courtyard, as she tried her best to mingle with her family.

As if you read her mind, with a calculated steadiness, you made your way over to where she was.

“Princess Y/N,” Daemon said, his eyes hard and defensive, “welcome to the capital.”

She didn’t miss the animosity. Her uncle had just returned from Stepstones after all, and from what she gathered listening in at the Small Council, the Martells sided with the Triarchy, against him.

“Your Graces,” you bowed, “It is exciting to see the city again. My brother Qoren sends his regards.”

“Now that the war is over, I trust that our two houses will find common ground. You are most welcome to stay for as long as you like, Princess.” Viserys said.

“Yes, you must,” Daemon inferred.

“I thank you for your hospitality, your Grace.”

“May I introduce the Queen, Lady Alicent of House Hightower, and my daughter, the Crown Princess, Rhaenyra,” The King gestured towards the girls.

“Your Grace, Princess,” you smiled, “all the tales of your beauty truly do you no justice.”

At this, Rhaenyra let out a small laugh, heat creeping up her neck at your blatant compliment. She didn’t notice the way Daemon flit his eyes between you and her menacingly, nor the way Alicent looked to the ground at her hands.

“May I show Y/N the new tapestries?” Rhaenyra inquired, swallowing thickly.

Her father laughed. “Darling, Princess Y/N must be no stranger to tapestries, don’t you think she might find them a bit dull?”

“It’s alright, your Grace. I’d love to see them,” you then turned to Rhaenyra, and gestured for her to lead the way. “After you, my Princess.”

The words rolled off your tongue like silk. Rhaenyra found herself in a pit. There was something charming about you, and soon she found herself entranced, though you’ve only just spoken to her.

You had walked in silence beside you in the thick of the West garden when she suddenly spoke. “Do you like poetry, Y/N?”

“Poetry, songs, I enjoy them all.” You glided your hand over a big leaf. “We were raised to love art, my brother and I. My mother, in particular, told us that without it, there is no pleasure in life.”

“Pleasure can be found in many things.” Rhaenyra countered.

“Yes, it can be,” you raised your hand to show her. “This ring was gifted to me by my mother. It was given to her by her mother, and to her by her mother before.”

A clunky, golden ring adorned your middle finger, but no less beautiful. Engraved on it was the sigil of your house, a sun pierced by a spear.

She only noticed that she was holding your hand to admire it, when you flexed your fingers and the friction of it startled her. She pulled away quickly, averting your amused eyes.

“Is your mother in Sunspear?”

“My mother has passed on,” you smiled sadly.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Which is why I was saddened to hear of the news of Queen Aemma’s passing, for she was a mother as much as she was a queen.”

“Thank you,” Rhaenyra said, brushing over her fingers where they had touched you. “The realm seems to have moved on rather quickly from her ever since my half-brother was born.”

“History has a tendency to discard women the moment they don’t benefit the succession line, doesn’t it?”

“When I am Queen, I will make a new order.” The princess stated, “and they will have no choice but to obey.”

“I have no doubt that you will,” your voice softened, like a prayer, before you tenderly brought her fingers to your lips to kiss them. “It’s about time this country sees some changes.

“You must excuse me, then. I have some business I must attend to. The tapestries were lovely,” you bowed, and then you were gone.

You didn’t look at the tapestries at all.

Daemon was apprehensive when she returned, but the princess was too dazed to care. An arrow had struck her heart, and no remedy could cure her of Meleys’ grasp.

The prospect of her marriage was looming over her like a dark cloud. Daemon told her all the things that people do when they’re not stuck in a loveless marriage, and she thought about you. She had never been to Dorne, but she’s heard stories. She wondered if the Dornish were any happier than people like her.

“Y/N Martell,” Daemon asked her in Valyrian, “what do you think of her?”

“I think she’s very charming.” It took weight of her to say. “I’m sure that she would find many suitors of her liking. Men would flock to see her.”

“Men and women alike,” her uncle corrected her. “The Martells have been known to act upon their carnal desires, whether it be with men or women.”

“You think Y/N—No, it can’t be.”

“Can it?” Daemon raised a knowing eyebrow.

That night he smuggled her out of the Red Keep, into the city of the smallfolk, where she saw for the first time how the people lived. She saw mothers breastfeeding their babes on the streets, vendors selling foods and goods that would barely keep them alive past dawn, fools and jesters and actors guising as royalty, mocking her to entertain others.

He took her to a pleasure house, where she saw people fuck for the pleasure of it, no marriage nor the intention of procreation attached. She saw pleasure and desire in Daemon’s eyes when he circled her like a hawk, and kissed her against a wall. Yet, Daemon refused to go further and left her there.

When she opened her eyes again, she thought she saw you, in the back behind a veil, naked between a man and a woman. She knew she wasn’t imagining it when you opened your own eyes, and held her gaze as the man descended between your legs.

Fucking is a pleasure, her uncle told her.

Rhaenyra saw what she saw at the brothel again in her dreams, yet instead of her and Daemon, she saw you, she felt you embracing her, staring into her eyes with that fiery gaze of yours.

The princess had never known bodily pleasure, but she thought she might have felt it with you. She remembered the tenderness of your touch, the weight of your body on hers, the taste of you. She awoke the next morning frustrated as her bed was empty and her mind clouded with impure thoughts of you.

She had been in the gardens the next morning when she saw you. Her heart dropped as she quickly hid behind a tall column. The visions of you still fresh in her mind, and yet you were only sitting on a bench reading. She could hardly believe that you were there at the brothel too, and now here you were.

“Princess? Is that you?”

“Seven Hells,” she muttered, and came out of hiding.

You gave her a warm smile, and beckoned her to sit next to you.

“What are you reading?”

“Poetry from Dorne, dating back to the Age of Nymeria.” You pointed to the page you were reading, “this one in particular is a love letter from a noble woman to her lover, who was also her handmaiden.”

Rhaenyra knew you were watching her for any type of hostility, but in truth, there wasn’t. Instead, she leaned closer to you to read the words.

“Someone, I tell you, will remember us, even in another time.”

“I can’t imagine how lonely they must have felt,” she said, “not being able to show their love.”

“Yes,” you smiled sadly. “I imagine Your Grace also feels certain impediments to do so yourself, as a princess with certain duties to your realm?”

“What about you, Princess Y/N? Do you feel these impediments? Or do you act upon your desires as you please?”

You smiled, but there was an edge to it, almost like a smirk, like you were daring her to ask about last night. Rhaenyra held your gaze, despite how much she wanted to look away because of how nervous you made her.

“I find it easier to separate duty from pleasure than most people in the realm,” you said, “some people don’t have that luxury. But like a keg of wine, the more you fill it up, the more it spills.”

You grasped her hand softly, just tight enough so that if she wanted to pull away, she could have. She let her thumb brush over the back of your hand, feeling the smoothness of the skin that had been rough with somebody else the night before. Rhaenyra wished it was her.

The clanking of armor pulled her out of it, and made her retract her hand.

“The Small Council meeting is about to begin, Princess,” Ser Criston announced.

Rhaenyra closed her eyes, duty awaited. But you never took your eyes of her. She excused herself anyway, and left without another word nor another glance, afraid she wouldn’t be able to leave if she did.

The hour of the owl came, yet Rhaenyra was still wide awake. A breeze crept through her chambers, caressing her skin and raised goosebumps. She sighed, wishing it was you. No matter how hard she tried, all she could see was you.

She sprung out of bed, hastily throwing on her nightrobe. Ser Criston had left an hour before, leaving her door empty, and she quietly made her way across the castle. Long gone were the days of hopeless longing, she was grown now. If she were to be Queen, she would take what she wanted.

You opened the door without hesitation, a soft smile on your face illuminated by candlelight.

“You’re still awake.”

“I was waiting for you,” you spoke softly.

Feeling bold, she pushed forwards, through the door, and you took a step back. She did it again, and you let her.

Her hand then crept along the hem of your gown, feeling the fabric before pulling it loose.

She was too nervous to meet your eyes. You, on the other hand, watched her tentatively, but made no sudden move lest you startled the princess.

Wordlessly, Rhaenyra leaned up to kiss you deeply, her eyes shut tight. She was no longer a princess, she was just a girl, infatuated with you.

“What do you want, Princess?” You asked softly, holding her waist endearingly.

“Show me what pleasure feels like.” Her breath warmed your neck as she spoke. “I want you.”

You undressed her, slowly; you wanted to savor it. But you had desired her the moment you laid eyes on her, and when her left breast peaked through her gown, you let out a low groan, and picked her up around your waist.

The Targaryen princess was all you tasted. Her mind was hazy, her chest warm, and her cheek pressed against your own bare chest.

The morning sun peaked through the window, daybreak. She had duties, she was a Princess.

Rhaenyra slipped away from your embrace, carefully so as notnto wake you, and took a piece of parchment paper on your desk and a quill to write with.

“I’ll see you again tonight,” she wrote.

The princess then slipped out the door and back to her room before Ser Criston could figure out that she was ever gone.