#or what year our house was built

[sassmill]

Fuck it I’m about to add historical costume consultant to my resume

[number1villainstan]

spoiled less like a bratty kid and more like the cherries fallen off the tree and rotting in the summer heat on the concrete of the driveway

[ultimateinferno]

Not once have I ever dreamed about going to school after graduation, but I do have a concerning amount of dreams where I'm back in my childhood home that I lived in for the first 18 years of my life (that my parents sold right after my first christmas at uni), and honestly that fucks me in an entirely different way.

[imflyingfish]

Mmmmm

[came-out-of-the-coffin-desisted]

HOLY SHIT THERE’S AN OWL OUTSIDE MY WINDOW THIS IS SOOOO EXCITING HIIIII COMRADE THE OWL

[oediex]

Today I cycled past a house with a year chiseled in a curated stone above its front door.

1990.

It amused me. There are many old houses in the centre of my city. They are protected heritage, mostly, and go back hundreds of years, some of them almost half a millennium. There are buildings vastly older than that, of course - churches and whatnot - but the houses are still, and have been over the centuries, lived in.

Such old houses sometimes have their date of construction marked on stone, and presumably the house I spotted today is aiming for a similar effect. And failing. For now.

Because while its year of origin looks a bit silly now - it is a whole year younger than I am - one or two centuries from now it will look all the more impressive. If it survives that long.

[drchucktingle]

the curve

somehow ive found myself in a position where folks come to chuck in times of strife for encouragement. lets get the big part of this conversation out of the way LOVE IS STILL REAL and that is the thing to remember. that north star remains. today there is more to talk about though

existence pushes towards love community and freedom, because CREATION is what we were built to do and creation thrives with these things as fuel. IT GETS BETTER. LOVE IS REAL. however this change comes in up and down waves. its not a straight line and should not be expected to be

some of these waves are short and small, and some of the slopes are years or decades long. there is no mincing words here, we are entering a massive downward wave. the implications are huge and it is okay to mourn that. FEEL THOSE FEELINGS. it is an important part of the ride

the most telling sign post on our slope is this: tromp won the popular vote (or likely will when the votes are done). we can talk POLITICAL STRATEGY all day about electoral college or who should court the center or the left and on and on but ultimately THIS is the real story

to me it signals a TRUE cultural shift. likely conservatives will have presidency, senate, house, and supreme court. WHAT A GIANT SLOPE. HOLD THE HECK ON because we will be riding it for a while, deep into the pit of the void. hold your buds tight, prove love at the local level

but heres the thing, MASSIVE waves have happened before. theyll happen again. mind numbing slopes into the abyss and great soaring leaps into the sky. in fact the inertia almost ALWAYS causes them to happen right after each other. hippies or punks back in the day, buckaroos now

politically we were trapped in a basically fifty fifty trot for a long time, but it was not always like this (just look at old election maps what the heck). to be honest, tromps map looks like one of those old maps right now. and DANG did COUNTER MOVEMENTS blooms from those times

in other words, THERE WILL BE A COUNTER CULTURE MOVEMENT THAT WE HAVE NEVER SEEN BEFORE IN OUR LIFETIMES. you are now a rebel for the resistance and the wave that will swing back towards love will awe us in ways we cannot even imagine yet.

but for now, feel those feelings, mourn, prove love, stay safe. do not let the hope i am espousing feel like a distraction from the very real, even deadly consequences of the terrible pit we are plummeting into. it is a horrible day, and FUTURE HOPE does not diminish that, BUT

get ready because that counter culture wave is coming and YOU are a part of it. if you want to shout HECK OFF DEVILS then shout it LOUD, if you want to cry then cry HARD, if you want to love then love with your WHOLE HEART. thats the start of the movement that we dont know yet

when that movement takes shape we will feel the inertia of the curve and it may make us sick from the rollercoaster turn, and that pressure will be uncomfortable and scary, but THEN buckaroo, we will soar, and ill be so dang glad to be holding on tight with you when we do

[ahmedalnabih54]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here is love and war!

To donate click here⬇️🔗

@90-ghost @heritageposts @neechees @butchniqabi @fluoresensitivearchived @khangerinedreams @autisticmudkip @beserkerjewel @officialspec @xinakwans @batekush @appsa @nerdyqueerandjewish @butchsunsetshimmer @biconicfinn @stopmotionguy @willgrahamscock @strangeauthor @bryoria @shesnake @legallybrunettedotcom @lautakwah @sovietunion @evillesbianvillain @antibioware @akajustmerry @neptunerings @explosionshurtyo @dlxxv-vetted-donations @vague-humanoid @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada @sar-soor @northgazaupdates2 @feluka-blog-blog @dirhwangdaseul-archived @jdon @ibtisams-blog @sawasawako @memingursa @schoolhatergirl @ot3 @lapithae @ryo-yamada @opencommunion @anneemay-blog @tamamita

[ketchuppee]

During the 2008 recession, my aunt lost her job. Her, her partner, and my three cousins moved across the country to stay with us while they got back on their feet. My house turned from a family of four to a family of nine overnight, complete with three dogs and five cats between us.

It took a few years for them to get a place of their own, but after a few rentals and apartments, they now own a split level ranch in a town nearby. I’ve lost track of how many coworkers and friends have stayed with them when they were in a tight spot. A mother and son getting out of an abusive relationship, a divorcee trying to stay local for his kids while they work out a custody agreement, you name it. My aunt and uncle knew first hand what that kindness meant, and always find space for someone who needed it, the way my parents had for them.

That same aunt and uncle visited me in [redacted] city last year. They are prolific drinkers, so we spent most of the day bar hopping. As we wandered the city, any time we passed a homeless person, my uncle would pull out a fresh cigarette and ask them if they had a light. Regardless of if they had a lighter on hand or not, he offered them a few bucks in exchange, which he explained to me after was because he felt it would be easier for them to accept in exchange for a service, no matter how small.

I work for a company that produces a lot of fabric waste. Every few weeks, I bring two big black trash bags full of discarded material over to a woman who works down the hall. She distributes them to local churches, quilting clubs, and teachers who can use them for crafts. She’s currently in the process of working with our building to set up a recycling program for the smaller pieces of fabric that are harder to find use for.

One of my best friends gives monthly donations to four or five local organizations. She’s fortunate enough to have a tech job that gives her a good salary, and she knows that a recurring donation is more valuable to a non-profit because they can rely on that money month after month, and can plan ways to stretch that dollar for maximum impact. One of those organizations is a native plant trust, and once she’s out of her apartment complex and in a home with a yard, she has plans to convert it into a haven of local flora.

My partner works for a company that is working to help regulate crypto and hold the current bad actors in the space accountable for their actions. We unfortunately live in a time where technology develops far too fast for bureaucracy to keep up with, but just because people use a technology for ill gain doesn’t mean the technology itself is bad. The blockchain is something that she finds fascinating and powerful, and she is using her degree and her expertise to turn it into a tool for good.

I knew someone who always had a bag of treats in their purse, on the odd chance they came across a stray cat or dog, they had something to offer them.

I follow artists who post about every local election they know of, because they know their platform gives them more reach than the average person, and that they can leverage that platform to encourage people to vote in elections that get less attention, but in many ways have more impact on the direction our country is going to go.

All of this to say, there’s more than one way to do good in the world. Social media leads us to believe that the loudest, the most vocal, the most prolific poster is the most virtuous, but they are only a piece of the puzzle. (And if virtue for virtues sake is your end goal, you’ve already lost, but that’s a different post). Community is built of people leveraging their privileges to help those without them. We need people doing all of those things and more, because no individual can or should do all of it. You would be stretched too thin, your efforts valiant, but less effective in your ambition.

None of this is to encourage inaction. Identify your unique strengths, skills, and privileges, and put them to use. Determine what causes are important to you, and commit to doing what you can to help them. Collective action is how change is made, but don’t forget that we need diversity in actions taken.

[ariaste]

louis was like "this is the love of my life...... the vampire armand....."

and I was like "girl...... you're both bottoms...... traumatized bottoms with daddy issues....... where are ur shitty boyfriends??????"

louis and armand out here having the world's most boring pathetic sex, they're like "we're so healthy, we have grown past our shitty-boyfriend-having phase, now we're always Safe Sane And Consensual 😌 we don't have unhinged sex anymore 😌😌😌" they are going insane. this is why louis is having a mental breakdown. he's been having intensely hinged sex for 77 years, like 100% slow lovemaking with clear communication and so much lube and always "one finger, two finger, three finger, cock" and the traffic-light consent system in place even though they don't practice any kinks that would involve words like "stop" and "hang on a sec" meaning anything but literally that. no one in this house has been rimmed in 77 years. Every night they have a very polite Discussion (it's not an argument, it's not) about whose turn it is to top because nobody here wants to. louis is not built to handle this psychologically. lestat's going to text him "hey mon cher miss u sooooo much i can't live without you, haha i got your number by killing some people at your phone company, actually several phone companies because i didn't know which network you're on, anyway come over and sit on my face WINK WINK i'll do that thing you like so much, you know the one!! the one where you're always like 'ew lestat you're so gross' but then it makes you come so hard you pass out [eggplant emoji, eggplant emoji, water drops emoji, blood drop emoji]" louis is going to see these texts and go into a fugue state and be OUT! THAT! DOOR! in nanoseconds. NANOSECONDS!!!! meanwhile lestat is double- and triple- and quadruple-texting about how he's always wanted to try roadhead and blithely using words like "pussy" in reference to louis' anatomy without asking if that's cool and also sending seven unsolicited dick pics clearly taken in an airplane bathroom

armand has never sent a dick pic in his life, even a solicited one, because it's "crass" and there are "privacy concerns" and he's "unsatisfied with the current standard of end-to-end encryption technology". lestat doesn't even know what end-to-end encryption is, and if he did he wouldn't care about it because "if a hacker is going to all that trouble to look at my nude photographs, louis, i think they've earned them :))) even though they could just follow me on instagram and tiktok or sign up for my onlyfans" this is why armand about to get dumped at terminal velocity. he doesn't even have instagram.

[txttletale]

imagine if you like bought a house and the realtor that sold you the house came by and did maintenance every couple months and it was a pretty good arrangement until one day they stopped doing maintenance and things started breaking them and you called them up and they were like 'surprise! we've decided what this house is really missing is a pool so we're going to build a whole new house for you that has a pool we are so excited about this pool' and you were like 'is this a deflection from your sexual harassment lawsuit you're involved in' and they were like 'the pool is going to be so cool!' and hung up and you didn't hear from them for years and then they called you up again and were like 'good news! we've built the new house, why don't you move in' and you were like 'oh, the one with the pool?' and they were like 'wellll yeah but we haven't actually installed the pool yet but when we do it's going to totally transform how you live in your house so you can see the value' and you were like 'i don't know i think i'll stay in this one' and they were like 'hmm yeah sorry actually you can't we're blowing the old house up with dynamite' and you were like 'what? why?' and they were like 'so that you're not split between your old house and the new one' and you were like 'um, fine' and you drove over to the new house and there was no pool or space for a pool and the realtor showed up to gave you the keys and you were like 'this house looks identical to the old one, i don't really understand why you did this' and they were like 'aha! you see, the old house had six rooms, this one has five!' and you were like 'that sounds worse, though' and they were like 'no you see with only five rooms it will be much easier to do maintenance on the house' and you were like 'but you haven't done that for months' and they were like 'yeah that was the old house which we've just blown up with explosives this is the new house' and you were like 'so how's that sexual harassment lawsuit going' and they leaped acrobnatically into their car like a trapeze artist and zoomed away and you went into the house and saw a coin slot on the bathroom door and called them and you could hear the background noise of a courtroom and they said 'yeah so you have to pay five dollars every time you use the bathroom now, it's our new monetization plan' and you were like 'well this is bullshit i feel like this house is just straight up worse' and they were like 'noo listen the pool is going to be so cool it's going to be so good we promise there'll be a diving board and a tiki bar and those water jets that give young people sexual awakenings' and you were like 'well okay' and they were like 'we've been building this pool for four years trust us it's going to be good' and then you didn't hear from them for a long long time except occasionally when they showed up to do maintenance and if you asked about the pool they just winked meaningfully and asked if you wanted to pay a $15/month fee for a bathroom pass giving you unlimited flushes and toilet paper. and this went on for a year until one day you got a voicemail 'dear resident. we're not going to build the pool lol' and you called them back like 'well what the fuck did you demolish my old house for' and they were like 'we actually gave up on the whole pool like two years ago but we did a whole announcement and it would have felt sooo awkward to walk it back' and you were like 'what the fuck have i been paying five dollars to use the toilet for over these last two years!' and they were like 'listen buddy if you don't like it you can buy the bathroom pass' and then they hung up on you . anyway that's what happened with overwatch 2

[homo-house]

hey uh so I haven't seen anyone talking about this here yet, but

the amazon river, like the biggest river in the fucking world, in the middle of the amazon fucking rainforest, is currently going through its worst drought since the records began 121 years ago

picture from Folha PE

there's a lot going on but I haven't seen much international buzz around this like there was when the forest was on fire (maybe because it's harder to shift the narrative to blame brazil exclusively as if the rest of the world didn't have fault in this) so I wanted to bring this to tumblr's attention

I don't know too many details as I live in the other side of the country and we are suffering from the exact opposite (at least three cyclones this year, honestly have stopped counting - it's unusual for us to get hit by even one - floods, landslides, we have a death toll, people are losing everything to the water), but like, I as a brazilian have literally never seen pictures of the river like this before. every single city in the amazonas state is in a state of emergency as of november 1st.

pictures by Adriano Liziero (ig: geopanoramas)

we are used to seeing images of rio negro and solimões, the two main amazon river affluents, in all their grandiose and beauty and seeing these pictures is really fucking chilling. some of our news outlets are saying the solimões has turned to a sand desert... can you imagine this watery sight turning into a desert in the span of a year?

while down south we are seeing amounts of rain and hailstorms the likes of which our infrastructure is simply not built to deal with, up north people who have built everything around the river are at a loss of what to do.

the houses there that are built to float are just on the ground, people who depend on fishing for a living have to walk kilometers to find any fish that are still alive at all, the biodiversity there is at risk, and on an economic level it's hard to grasp how people from the northern states are getting by at all - the main means of transport for ANYTHING in that region is via the river water. this will impact the region for months to come. it doesnt make a lot of sense to build a lot of roads bc it's just better to use the waterway system, everything is built around or floats on the river after all. and like, the water level is so incomprehensibly low the boats are just STUCK. people are having a hard time getting from one place to another - keep in mind the widest parts of the river are over 10 km apart!!

this shit is really serious and i am trying not to think about it because we have a different kind of problem to worry about down south but it's really terrifying when I stop to think about it. you already know the climate crisis is real and the effects are beyond preventable now (we're past global warming, get used to calling it "global boiling"). we'll be switching strategies to damage control from now on and like, this is what it's come to.

I don't like to be alarmist but it's hard not to be alarmed. I'm sorry that I can't end this post with very clear intructions on how people overseas can help, there really isn't much to do except hope the water level rises soon, maybe pray if you believe in something. in that regard we just have to keep pressing for change at a global level; local conditions only would not, COULD NOT be causing this - the amazon river is a CONTINENTAL body of water, it spans across multiple countries. so my advice is spread the word, let your representatives know that you're worried and you want change towards sustainability, degrowth and reduced carbon emissions, support your local NGOs, maybe join a cause, I don't know? I recommend reading on ecological and feminist economics though

however, I know you can help the affected riverine families by donating to organizations dedicated to helping the region. keep in mind a single US dollar, pound or euro is worth over 5x more in our currency so anything you donate at all will certainly help those affected.

FAS - Sustainable Amazon Fundation

Idesam - Sustainable Developent and Preservation Institute of Amazonas

Greenpeace Brasil - I know Greenpeace isn't the best but they're one of the few options I can think of that have a bridge to the international world and they are helping directly

There are a lot of other smaller/local NGOs but I'm not sure how you could donate to them from overseas, I'll leave some of them here anyway:

Projeto Gari

Caritás Brasileira

If you know any other organizations please link them, I'll be sure to reblog though my reach isn't a lot

thank you so much for reading this to the end, don't feel obligated to share but please do if you can! even if you just read up to here it means a lot to me that someone out there knows

also as an afterthought, I wanted to expand on why I think this hasn't made big news yet: because unlike the case of the 2020 forest fires, other countries have to hold themselves accountable when looking at this situation. while in 2020 it was easier to pretend the fires were all our fault and people were talking about taking the amazon away from us like they wouldn't do much worse. global superpowers have no more forests to speak of so I guess they've been eyeing what latin america still has. so like this bit of the post is just to say if you're thinking of saying anything of the sort, maybe think of what your own country has done to contribute to this instead of blaming brazil exclusively and saying the amazon should be protected by force or whatever

[blunderpuff]

my mom packs boxes like we’re fleeing the country on friday

[vividxpages]

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ "in the dead of night"･ﾟ✧*: ･ﾟ✧*

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 7000

summary: when Jace is attending a late council meeting, two hired assassins take their chance to sneak into your chambers and hold you captive. Taken to the dragon caves below and meant to be slain by your own betrothed’s dragon, you have to trust the bond between Vermax and you is strong enough to escape your captor’s murderous plans.

warnings: soft!reader, fluffy start but HEAVY angst (reader being held captive by two assassins similar to Blood and Cheese), physical violence (slapping, hair pulling), verbal abuse, threats of rape and violence, Vermax being Vermax and also protective of reader, hurt/comfort, shock and crying, Jacaerys being a caring betrothed, Rhaenyra being the best mother in law, aftermath of trauma, healing, hopeful ending

a/n: please mind the warnings for this story, it’s my angstiest so far! Big thanks to @princessvelaryon and @princesschimchim1325 for being awesome and inspiring me to write this!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You smiled to yourself as you held two small wooden figures in your hands, a princess and a prince, their hands linked together and small attires made of cotton and wool. When you were younger, you remembered playing with them for hours, creating little scenarios of the prince who might sweep you off your feet someday.

Now, many years later, you had found the love of your life in Prince Jacaerys.

Ever since your own parents had died too young, Jace’s family had welcomed you as if you were one of them by blood, making you a home at Dragonstone and accepting you with open arms as theirs. Perhaps, a huge part of it was because Rhaenyra’s oldest son had been in love with you ever since he had first laid eyes on you, but there was more to it. His mother adored you and you got alone with his siblings and cousins and brought a joy into their house that was much needed in those dark times of war.

This afternoon, you were sitting on the soft fur carpet in one of the big living rooms of the castle, Rhaenyra’s twins peacefully playing with their wooden toys all around you. Earlier, Baela and Rhaena had joined you for a chat and the newest gossip, but you didn’t mind being alone with the kids as well, your own inner child always coming down around their soft souls.

You let out a playful gasp as little Viserys assembled a row of knights on their horses along the imaginary street you had built together. “Are your noble knights going to a tournament, Vis?”

The boy nodded timidly at you, letting one of the horses gallop forward and making you laugh.

Your betrothed Jacaerys leaned against the doorframe and smiled softly as he watched you. Little Aegon had snuggled close to you and you helped Viserys move the toy carriage around the carpet.

You looked up as he pushed himself off the frame, walking towards you with pure adoration in his eyes. “Oh hello. I didn’t hear you enter.” You said, letting your hand be lifted by him so he could press a soft kiss against your knuckles.

Moving to stand and placing Aegon on the ground, he laid a hand on your shoulder, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to interrupt your play. What adventures is my princess going on today? Have my brothers been behaving?”

“They are the sweetest.” You told him in all honesty, your heart melting at the two little blond boys in front of you. Whenever you spent time with Jace’s smaller siblings, you could not help but notice how your heart expanded and spoke to a deep part in you that wished for children of your own someday. “We were playing a carriage ride to a tournament, I believe, but then a dragon escaped and now we have to look for him.”

Jace squatted down for a moment and handed Aegon a rattle shaped like the bell of a sept, which he immediately took with a toothless grin and tried out. You watched your betrothed with a soft heart and thought what a wonderful father he’d make…

“I dream of the day this will be our life someday.” He confessed to you, the corner of his plump lips lifting sadly. “When there is peace in the realm and we have time to take care of our future children together.”

“I wish for nothing else.” You replied softly, your heart blooming with love for him.

For a moment, Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to sit down and join you and his little brothers, but as you knew your hard-working betrothed all too well, he sighed and stood up again, careful not to step on the big skirts draped around you like a blooming flower.

“There will be a late council meeting this evening.” Jacaerys announced to you, his displeased expression betraying him. “Everyone of the council and the dragon keepers will sit together to discuss. I wouldn’t ask you to join us, it will be very boring and entirely unnecessary.”

You chuckled, knowing all too well how different Jace would do many things if his say in the matters of his mother would be of more weight. But at the same time, you were glad, Rhaenyra kept him sheltered and protected with you for now, at Dragonstone where it was the safest place for the future king and his queen.

“Will you come to bed later?” You asked shyly, although it was not uncommon for the prince and you to share a bed before your marriage had even been consummated.

A small and narrow passage connected your room to Jacaerys’ and you had often made use of it, whether you wanted someone to talk to before heading to bed or were in need of his warm embrace before you eventually drifted off into an innocent sleep together. When he was gone or bound to duties, you usually made yourself comfortable in his bed, but perhaps you’d return to your own tonight if the meeting was going to take a while before he’d be released.

Jacaerys smiled softly at you and nodded before he raised your hand towards his lips. “I will. Don’t stay up too late, I’ll be with you as soon as I can, I promise.”

You hummed pleased and let him kiss your knuckles. “I hope it won’t be too long. And don’t take their words to heart too much, Jace. You’re the prince and they’re lucky to have you.”

“It is me who is lucky to have you, my beloved.” He said and watched in delight as you blushed at his appreciation. “My safe haven, my light.”

Jacaerys leaned down, softly cupping your cheek before he gently kissed your lips, your back arching a little to reach him better. Your lips brushed tenderly against one another and you sighed in bliss at his open affections for you.

You smiled at him when you separated, squeezing his hand in yours. “I love you. I’ll see you later.”

“I love you.I’ll do my best to hurry.” He promised, hugging his little toddler brothers as well and softly stroking their hair before he departed. You sighed to yourself, eager to have the hours pass and let the two of you be reunited again as little Aegon presented you a wood dragon, silently asking you to rejoin their play..

“Alright, where were we, my princes?”

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Being alone in your private chambers had become a rarity since you had been promised to Jacaerys.

You listened to the quietness of the room, the fire cackling in the pit as you sat on your bed and combed out your hair. You had taken a bath after bringing the princes to their nurseries and changed into something comfortable for the night.

The small evidence of Jace’s frequent visits to your room were visible all over the place. A cloak of his was thrown over one of your chairs by the fire and one of his books laid open by your desk. Even his smell still faintly clung to your pillows, a little gift from the last time he had fallen asleep here, not bothering to retreat back to his own chamber under your soft and lingering touches to his hair.

You could not even remember the last time the connecting door between your rooms had been closed.

You let out a small sigh as you sunk into bed, watching the dark outside of your window for a while. The council meeting must’ve been going on for a while now and you tried to read a few pages to keep you awake, not wanting to miss the moment Jace would come to you.

The time went by and your eyelids kept dropping.

But after a while, the door to your chamber opened and a wide smile split your face as you sat up in your bed, ready to welcome Jace back. Your hair fell over your shoulders, the blanket slipping down your body a little, but just a second later, everything in you froze to a stop.

Two men entered your room, their clothes dirty and faces dark as they took you in. These weren’t your guards and as one of them unsheathed a blade from his belt, you opened your mouth to scream.

They were on you in a heartbeat.

One of them drew the blankets off the bed while the other grabbed your hair, dragging you from the mattress and onto the floor, every sound in your throat seizing up and choked off by their sudden display of violence.

You were not a fighter, never had been. You stood no chance as they manhandled you in their middle, the taller one quickly looking over his shoulder as you struggled to no use against their tight grip.

“Look at that.” You heard close to your ear, the deep raspy voice sending shivers down your spine. “The bastard prince’s little bird, right between us. What would your man say now if he could see you like this, huh?”

You whimpered when your head was tugged back, the other gripping your wrists and making quick work of a tight rope around them, scratching over your soft skin and successfully binding you.

“Who are you?” You demanded to know, your voice barely louder than a whisper. You were shaking from head to toe, your body and mind gone into overdrive when they had first laid hands on you.

They shared a grin with each other. “Does it matter? All you have to know is we’re not your fucking maids. And that you will die tonight, princess. Now be a good girl and shut the fuck up.”

You tried to press your heels into the floor, to keep them from stirring you towards the door, but after a moment the tall one simply picked you up and carried you towards the door. Your nails scratched over the man’s back, but it was like he didn’t even feel it, his grip around your legs too tight for you to struggle and free yourself.

“Behave.”

You were set on your feet again, crowded by them against the door. You swallowed hard against the lump in your throat, your eyes flickering between the two of them. “Whoever paid you, their reward is not nearly enough for the misery my family will bring down on you when they find you. I am a princess of Dragonstone and you have no right to-“

They pushed you out of the door, not bothering to listen.

A horrified gasp escaped your lips as you stepped outside your chamber and nearly stumbled over the dead bodies of your two guards, bleeding out and cold on the floor. The sound echoed through the hall and before you knew what was happening, your head was pulled back by your hair and a hard hand slapped you across the face.

Pain exploded in your mind, blinding you for a moment before the sting ebbed away and was replaced with a dull throb in your cheek.

You held the palm of your trembling hand to your throbbing cheek, breathing hard as you recovered from the blow. “You will die for this.” You said oddly calm and collected. It had to be the shock, you could not think clearly, but you knew one thing for sure: “The prince will cut your hands off for laying hand on me.”

The tall one grinned as if it was an empty threat. “We will be long gone once your prince finds you, stupid cunt. And in what state that will be, I still have to decide.” His disgusting hungry gaze crept over your body, barely hidden underneath your thin sleeping gown. You wanted to throw up.

“You will lead us to the place where the dragons are.” The shorter one said. “We know the keepers are all at the meeting and you know ways where no guards keep patrol. And if you dare to scream or run to wake anyone, I’ll cut out your tongue and heart and throw it in front of the bastard prince’s feet.”

You swallowed down bitter tears, your head screaming at you to do something, anything. But your hands were painfully tied and you did not find your voice as you slowly began to walk with them through the castle.

In the past, you have had nightmares like this, terrible visions of you being powerless as hands held you down in the dark, doing horrible things to you. You sometimes had woken up screaming, but Jacaerys had been there for you every time, holding you until the worst of it was over and you slowly were able to calm down in his safe and warm embrace. Now, there was no one, all people living and working at Dragonstone either asleep or summoned by Rhaenyra and Jacaerys for the council meeting. By the time someone had discovered the corpses of your guards in front of your chambers, you’d likely be dead or taken to who knew where.

You walked through your home, shivering against the cool air with only the thin nightdress you wore on you, the dangerous presence of your captors behind your back. You knew Jacaerys would blame himself for leaving you alone and suddenly, a sorrow so consuming filled your chest, you choked on a quiet whimper. You had not even said goodbye…

“Shut the fuck up.” They hissed at you and one of them slung his arm around your waist, your fingers digging into his flesh in protest as cool metal suddenly rested against your ribcage. A dagger. “Be fucking quiet and keep walking.”

Soon, the air began to smell of salt and sea and you heard the distant crashing of the waves against the island. The entrance to the dragon caves came into sight and you turned around to face them.

“Now tell us, girl, where is your precious dragon?”

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach, but before you could open your mouth for a reply, the other one of them shook his head. “No. Don’t be stupid. The beast will kill us right away if it sees their rider in our clutches. But…the bastard’s dragon. It’s a foul ill-tempered beast, isn’t it? Where is it?”

Vermax.

A protective wave washed through you and for a moment, you regained the little confidence you had before the man had laid his hand on you. “What do you want with the dragon? You are in no state to have a chance at killing him.”

They shared a look, both grinning viciously. One of them stepped up to you and touched your chin with his dirty hand, right where a fresh bruise from his violence bloomed. You tried to flinch away, but he held you close.

“We don’t mean to kill it, flower.” He told you, bloodthirst flickering over his features and making you sick. His knuckles brushed over the cut on your lip and you wanted to gag from disgust. “We’re going to watch as it kills you.”

Your mind was swimming as you led them through the darkness, watching their big shadows looming over your small own. The taller one still held his dagger against your waist and you knew he’d make use of it if he noticed you playing any games. There were wild beasts slumbering in the depths of these caves, but would they be faster at attacking your captors than the knife against your skin?

The hope in your chest thinned the further away you walked with them from where you knew your own dragon slept, but one last shimmer of it remained in you. You knew Vermax and he knew you just as Jacaerys did. You had to hold on to that.

“It’s here.” You announced quietly, your whisper echoing across the cave near the ocean. It was quiet here and you had to squint your eyes to make out the big nest at the end of the cave where a green-scaled dragon slept fitfully.

“Call it.” The smaller one muttered, his eyes fixed on the beast. You winced as the tip of the dagger pressed into your skin, a warning. “We will stand behind you and when it has come out, you will command it to kill you, you hear me? No tricks or I’ll gladly be the one to end your suffering, right after my friend here has had his fun with you, princess.”

You took a deep breath as they retreated into a safe distance.

„Naejot Māzīs, Vermax.“ You commanded shakingly and the sound of your familiar voice, the big pile of green and red in the corner of the cage moved, uncurling himself from his light slumber.

Jacaerys’ dragon blinked at you sleepily, a shudder going through his beautiful scales as he tilted his head to the side questioningly. When he spotted the two men in your company, he tensed, stepping forward and showing himself in his full height.

“Lykirī…“ You lifted your hands, trying to catch Vermax’ eyes again so he’d look at you instead of them.

With a low growl in his throat, he settled, stepping closer to you until his snout almost touched your outstretched hand.

“Say it, girl!” You heard the commanding voice behind you, in a safe distance of the beast that slowly blinked at you, considering. “We’re not going to wait much longer!”

You took a deep breath and looked Vermax in the snake-like eyes.

He met you with a calm stare, tilting his head to the side again, a deep rumble in his chest.

You had to trust in him now. You had to trust in the love Jacaerys and you were sharing and the bond between you and the dragons.

Out of the sudden, a heavy thrown stone hit you in the back and you gasped in pain, stumbling forward and almost slipping in a dirty puddle.

“DO IT!”

Trust in Vermax, just as you trust in your Jace.

“Dracarys.” You whispered finally and closed your eyes.

Vermax surged forward with a furious roar, one sharp claw in the ground, his wing shielding you from the scenery. Nearly pushing you out of the way, he advanced on the men who had threatened you with a snarl and warmth filled the large cave, fire burning low in his green-scaled stomach.

A horrible realization flickered over their faces as the green beast drew closer, their backs hitting the wall behind them as they looked at you one last time. “You fucking cunt-“

Vermax wiped out their miserable existence with one single breath of fire. Heat tore through the cave and you stumbled backwards as the dragon fire burned them and the scent of roasted human flesh reached your nose.

You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face in your hands as you listened to their screams. Their agony bounced off the stone walls and heat crept down your spine, but Vermax kept you close, the leathery feel of his wing a small comfort against your skin.

Suddenly, silence rang in your ears.

You dared to peek up over the protective curl of Vermax’ wings.

Where your captors had stood, only ashes and bones remained.

Vermax let out a self-satisfied growl, clearly pleased with what he had unleashed on the terrors. He bent down, blinking at you with his sharp eyes as if to make sure you were alright. Tears, both from the shock and gratitude, filled your eyes and you leaned your forehead against his snout, trying to take deep breaths to steady yourself.

You shrunk back as you heard footsteps in the caves, hurried steps running over gravel and through the water puddles, a flame throwing a long shadow over the walls. You felt Vermax tense, his wing drawing itself tighter around you. Any other threat advancing, he’d burn to the ground.

In the next moment, Jacaerys stormed into the chamber, his sword drawn as his other hand held a lit torch. His chest was heaving, sweat gathering at his hairline as he quickly took in the state of the room. He looked like he had run the length of the castle and you knew it likely had been the case.

Vermax snarled without threat, greeting his rider and lifting his wing to present you to your love.

Your eyes met and you let out a shuddering breath.

The sight of you was a thousand daggers to his heart.

Your face was smeared with soot and the blood from your split lip coated your chin, your hair unruly and disheveled from the way they had grabbed and dragged you along. Your silk dress was dirty and you shivered against the cold of the cave as you slung your bruised arms around yourself.

Behind you, Vermax hovered like a protective shadow and waited, willing to serve with Jacaerys now here with you.

As he took a step towards you, his boot made contact with the skulls of the assassins. Two of them, he realized and the rage surging through his veins was all-consuming. He looked down at their bones and wished to go back in time to kill them himself, over and over again until not even these mortal remains stayed behind.

But his own bloodlust vanished as he raced towards you, your own legs unsteady and finally giving out under you just as he reached you.

He fell to the ground with you in his arms, holding you tightly as you clawed your hand in his clothes, his heart breaking for you right underneath your tight grip. It was like any last strength in you had left, leaving you a broken and sobbing mess in his embrace.

“You’re safe, you’re safe…” Jace murmured into your ear, softly swaying you back and forth as you wept, the adrenaline and shock from the situation finally crashing down on you with full force. “Nothing is going to happen to you, I’m here…”

The Queen and the dragon keepers found the prince and his princess just like this.

Jacaerys was kneeling on the ground, the princess dissolved in tears in his arms and the ill-tempered beast that had saved his love curled around them, chortling comfortingly as the prince stroked her hair and whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You had been escorted back to the castle, but you couldn’t say you remembered much from the journey. Your mind had gone into an odd state of survival, the girl from before the attack having retreated into a far corner of your mind.

The guards, now dead because of you, had been carried away in front of your door and you had stopped in the middle of the hallway, not able to go another step as you stared at the spot where maids were now scrubbing the blood from the floor.

“Come on, my dear.” Rhaenyra had gently told you and you tore your eyes away from the scene as your Queen and Jacaerys led you into his chambers instead. The warmth and unique scent of Jace’s quarters – the smell of old parchment and books, mingled with the wax of the candles and the smell of his sheets – enveloped you and you drew the cloak Jace had draped over your shivering form tightly around you.

Now, a little later, you were seated at Jace’s work table and blankly stared at your scraped hands in your lap.

Jacaerys had instantly expressed his dislike for an interrogation at this hour of the night, but you had shaken your head, willing to recount the situation to Rhaenyra as if words could wash away the poison they had brought onto you. Your skin felt coated with it and you feared the stain might never go away again.

Yet, you had told her and Jace what happened, slowly and quietly, and when you were done, Rhaenyra was holding your hand and Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to break something.

“My brave girl.” Rhaenyra murmured and softly cupped your cheek as she looked at the bruises on your face and neck. “You’ve fought enough for tonight, darling. I’ll call the maids and healers and-“

“No.” You cut her off, shivering at the prospect of unfamiliar hands on you, seeing the evidence of what had happened on your naked skin. You swallowed hard, your eyes filling with unshed tears again. “No one else. It’s- it’s alright, I can do it myself, I really can-“

Rhaenyra smiled sadly at you. “You are hurt, my dear.”

“I’m not broken.” You insisted, although you felt like it. You were shattered pieces on the ground.

“And no one says so, dear.”

Jacaerys, sensing you were on the verge of breaking down, knelt down next to your chair and caught your gaze with his. “I can help, if you want.” He offered quietly.

You looked back at him, conflicted. If Jace stayed, there’d come the point where he’d see the damage you had taken and you did not know what troubled you more; him seeing you like this or seeing him as his heart shattered for you.

“Jace.” Rhaenyra looked at him. “Perhaps a woman’s presence at this time is better suited for her. I’ll fetch you later, I promise, but she needs a moment for herself now, alright?”

He was tense, your beloved prince, but after a moment he nodded with a set jaw before he stood and looked at you one more time. “I’ll wait outside.”

You didn’t want to meet his sad expression, so you kept your gaze down as mother and son went to the door, talking in quick and hushed voices before Jace stepped outside and Rhaenyra returned to you.

She leaned down and brushed a little bit of soot from your cheeks, careful not to touch your split lip. “Vermax surely knows how to rain down fire on our enemies, hm?”

A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “He saved me. He knew exactly what was going on the moment I entered and he was intelligent enough to play along until the right moment had come.”

Rhaenyra hummed, offering you a hand to stand up. “And still, they only call my son’s dragon ill-tempered. How does a bath sound? I’m sure you’d like to step into more comfortable clothes, wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, longing for a simple cotton shirt, preferably one of Jace’s that smelled like home and warmth and safety.

Your future mother-in-law went to the big bath next to Jace’s bedroom with you, a steaming bath already having been drawn for you.

When you saw her drawing a stool close to the tub, your eyes widened and you were quick to interject: “I-I can do it myself, Your Grace, there is no need for you to-“

“Please let me help you just as I would help any other child of mine.” She interrupted you kindly and soon after, you gratefully sunk into the bath, your sore muscles relaxing in its warmth.

Rhaenyra helped you tilt your head back and you closed your eyes as warm water flowed over your hair and down your neck, tears of your own silently running down your damp cheeks. Your throat bobbed painfully as you let her work, the Queen’s gentle hands a mother’s comfort as they helped to get rid of the dirt from the caves and a root clinging to your skin.

“I have sent Jace to fetch an ointment for your bruises and cuts.” She told you quietly and you nodded silently, cupping some of your water to rinse off your face, careful not to touch your throbbing lip. “I want you to tell me if I should send him away for the night. You can be honest with me, dear.”

You sniffled, gladly accepting the towel she lent you after helping you out of the bathtub. After a moment, you rasped: “It is not him I am scared of. It’s just…I know it pains him to see me hurt.”

“He hurts because he hasn’t been there for you, my dear.” Rhaenyra explained softly and you sighed to yourself as you slipped into a silken robe, the fabric easy on the big bruise on your back and arms. Underneath, you already wore one of Jace’s long shirts, the fabric more of a dress on you. “If it is one thing I have learned, as someone who loves and is lucky enough to be loved, it’s that healing means accepting the help of others. No one will fault you if you want to be for yourself tonight, but I know Jace will do anything he can to help you recover from this, no matter what that might look like.”

You did not want to be alone.

You feared it, laying down in bed once again when the door could open at any moment and reveal the terrors, although Jacaerys had doubled the amount of guards outside his door, simply so you’d feel safe.

You wanted to feel sheltered and able to move past this with the one you loved more than anything else, the one who had first thought about when your life had been in grave danger.

You needed Jacaerys.

“Jace may come in again.” You said quietly, suppressing the urge to groan with every step. You had not seen it yet, but the pain the stone thrown to your back caused felt like a flare and you were sure the spot was already turning a deep shade of purple.

Rhaenyra led you towards Jace’s bed, seemingly pleased with your decision. “I’ll make my leave then. Sleep in tomorrow, the both of you. You need all the rest you can get.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” You squeezed her hand in yours, bowing your head in gratitude. “And thank you for helping me.”

She smiled at you one last time, although there was a strain to it, her worry over a sneak attack like this consuming her mind. Tomorrow they’d speak about this in council, but tonight she’d let her son do the rest, his wide eyes meeting hers when she opened the door and let him in.

You turned around to look at him, your damp hair falling over your shoulder and his clothes, a princess despite the cuts and bruises on your skin. Jacaerys slowly walked to you and your heart stung when you noticed his blood-shot eyes and how pale he still was. He was tense all over, yet he softened as he came to a stop in front of you.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked quietly, looking for your honesty and not a false promise towards him.

You let out a shaky breath and leaned into him.

For a moment, you simply stood in front of each other, forehead against forehead and breathing each other in. Hot tears welled up in your shut eyes, his closeness rescuing and suffocating you at once. Jace’s nose touched yours and his soft curls tickled your cheeks and for a second, you thought that everything might be alright again when the morning came.

“My back. My cheek and wrists…” You whispered, your breath tickling his lips. “I know I’ve bathed and changed and I’m safe in your rooms, but…it feels like they’ve put me apart and I’ve been assembled back together wrongly.”

He shook his head, swallowing against his own lump in his throat. “You could never be wrong, my love.”

Your bottom lip wobbled dangerously, only doubling the pain in the cut grazing it. “I’ve been so scared, Jace. When they entered my room- Anything could’ve happened, they could’ve done anything to me-“

You gasped both in relief and sorrow as his arms pulled you against him, the hug both grounding and warm, something you thought you’d lost forever mere hours ago. You were too exhausted to cry once more, but the horror over what else could’ve been done to you shook you to your very core.

“I’m never going to let something like this happen again.” Jace promised you darkly as he tightened his arms around you, soothingly brushing his hand through your hair as you rested the unwounded side of your face against his heart. “You will never have to be afraid again, I promise. I should’ve been there, I should’ve stopped them-“

“You didn’t know they were here.” You reminded him, but you could feel the fury radiating off his body, an all-consuming rage deeply rooted in him. “No one did. No one is to blame except for the ones who sent them, Jace.”

“And they will pay.” You could practically feel the daggers he was glaring at the wall behind you. But just after a moment, you felt his anger deflate as he softly kissed the top of your head and gently lifted your chin so he could look at you. “You’ve been fighting all alone tonight, but I am here now and I want to be of use, beloved. Will you let me help?”

“I don’t want to upset you.” You almost bit your lip before you remembered the pain.

His gaze softened endlessly and he tucked a damp strand of your hair behind your ear. There were lots of tangled emotions inside of him still, but he saw you, this sweet delicate girl he had fallen for ever since the beginning and knew he had to take care of you now. “You could never upset me, my beautiful strong princess.”

The words were mending on your shaken soul and you closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before you let him to his work.

“The maester said the salve might be a little cool on the skin.” Jace murmured and you nodded in understanding. “And he gave me ice, scratched from the old side of the island’s cliffs, for your cheek.”

You took the dripping bundle from his hand, sighing as the cold cloth touched your cheek, the swelling subtle so far yet inevitable to strengthen throughout the night. But every bruise and cut on your body was better than not living to see the sun rise in the morning. “I could apply the salve on my own?”

Jace shook his head. “Let me do this for you.”

He walked with you to his bed, helping you sit down as he knelt before you, devotion shimmering in his eyes. You realized that he needed this just as much as you did, to prove himself he was able to take care of you now, even if he had not been there for you then.

He cupped your healthy cheek as you covered the other one with your ice. “Should we start with your back?”

Jace helped you lift the fabric, only so much so he could see where the stone had struck you, a dull bruise blossoming right next to your spine. It was nothing he had not yet seen so far, still you felt self-conscious under his attentive eyes.

You held very still as Jacaerys began to carefully apply the ointment to the bruise, his finger drawing soft and soothing circles over the blue spot. His other hand touched your waist, just barely underneath the fabric of his shirt on you and you closed your eyes as the cooling sensation drew a little pain from you and let it vanish.

“Good?”

“Feels good…” You murmured and tried to crawl into the feeling, the tiny relief washing away a little of the darkness from before. With a small kiss to your nape, he let the shirt fall and cover you again.

Next came your sore wrists. He lifted both of them, seeing the red marks where the tight rope had cut into your skin and swallowing hard. He wanted to unleash Vermax on the dusty bones of your captors again until their remains were annihilated from this earth. Jace softly kissed both of them before he dipped his fingers into the small jar again and repeated his careful motions.

You made a small sound in your throat and he stopped instantly.

“Too hard?”

You shook your head. “My lip…”

He sat down beside you, the mattress dipping underneath his weight and bringing you closer to him. The cut wasn’t pretty, but no cut was and you did not shy away from him as he took in the damage, one of his hands still rubbing circles into your wrist.

You held your breath as his coated thumb touched your bottom lip, his touch light as a feather as the cooling salve instantly mended the throbbing. Your hand reached up to hold his wrist, not ready yet to let him go when his touch felt infinitely good for your aching body. There was nothing sexual about the way you breathed against the pad of his thumb, relishing his care and simply letting it wash over you, and for a while you were simply content like this, Jacaerys remaining close to you as you breathed through the slowly ebbing pain.

“Do you want me to braid your hair for the night?” He asked quietly like he had so many times before.

Your wonderful beloved Jace. You nodded gratefully as he shuffled once more on the bed and sat behind you. Kissing the back of your head and brushing your hair over your shoulders for you, he got to work.

Your body was lulled into relaxation as his fingers combed through your hair, loosely braiding it so you wouldn’t have to wake up with tangles and knots in the morning. His warmth was a comfort against your back and if the vicious bruise hadn’t been there, you would’ve leaned back against him, ready to melt into his tenderness.

“Vermax saw right through them.” You spoke up after a while, your eyelids drooping from time to time from exhaustion as Jace finished up his braid for you. “He didn’t let them see at first, but there was a moment where I knew he was going to protect me, that he knew what was happening.”

“He loves you as if you were his own rider.” Jace mumbled, affection for you and his dragon in his voice. “I am glad he had been there for you when I wasn’t.”

“I want the finest sheep the shepherds can organize for tomorrow.” You looked over your shoulder with determination and Jacaerys frowned at you, a question in his eyes. You welcomed the small sting your lip caused you when its corner lifted up into a weak smile: “I want Vermax to be rewarded for defending his rider’s princess so honorably.”

“And I’d be honored to be the one to select it for you, my princess.” Jace’s face darkened, fury swirling in his brown orbs. “I still wish they would’ve suffered more. They deserved much more than a quick death of fire.”

His revengeful words were nothing against the soft touch with which he doted on you and when he was done and brushed his fingers once more over your hair, your body wanted to sink into his pillows and melt into them.

Jace laid down with you, carefully adjusting his position beside you so he wouldn’t accidently bump into your sore body. You exhaled deeply when your head touched his pillow, smelling so comfortingly of him. You could not bear to lie on your back, so you snuggled into Jace’s bed on your stomach, hugging his pillow and turning your head so you could look at your love.

He was resting on his side, his brown eyes searching for any discomfort you might have. Your eyes flickered over his shoulder, towards the door of his chambers.

“You are safe now, I promise.” Jace whispered and leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to your nose. “There are five guards outside and my sword leans against the bed. I’m here. Nothing bad will ever befall you again, my love, I swear it with my life.”

You gave him a tiny nod and tried to relax, although it was hard to keep the shadows lingering in the corners of the room at bay. You wiggled one of your hands out from under the pillow and found his, tugging him closer until his lean body warmed your side, one of his hands resting securely on your lower back.

“Tomorrow, I want to take a walk to the cliffs.” You whispered, longing for the fresh air and its cleansing effect.

Jacaerys smiled. “Then it will be arranged. Does my princess wish for any company?”

You nodded timidly, his playful undertone distracting you from the dull throb underneath the ointments. “And I want to have a picnic if the sun is out, with all my favorite things.”

“I’ll tell the kitchens then, first thing in the morning. They’ll be happy to please their future queen.”

“And when I’m healed, I want you to kiss me…” Your eyes drooped, the exhaustion from the night overpowering the little anxiety that remained in you.

“Your wish is my command...” Jacaerys mumbled back, his eyes on you as you slowly drifted off into a well-deserved sleep. He had not been entirely honest with you, there were many things he wanted to do.

He watched you sleep beside him, the most innocent sweet being he knew, covered with his warm clothes and bruises on your skin. Jace still held your hand and was not willing to let it go for the rest of the night.

At the soonest time, he’d convene a council meeting and strengthen the security around Dragonstone. He already had caught word of Daemon wreaking havoc on the guard unions patrolling around the castle for not being more attentive, for the princess was one of his favorite people in this family and Jace knew he’d have an ally for his cause.

He’d take his revenge for you.

But for now, he knew you needed him more than ever, and tomorrow he’d do his best to make you happy again. 

He could almost see it in the dark of the room, your eyes closed blissfully against the sunbeams, your hair dancing with the wind as you walked hand in hand as you had done so many times as children. You’d eat ripe peaches and cake and slowly, this incident would move past you until it was only what it was; a shadow in the corner, in the dead of night…

my taglist (open): @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss

[chariaki]

Marriage?

Kento x reader

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

"Darling, why does this alien keep following me?"

"Huh? Ohh!!...Kento, sweetheart... that's called a creeper. It's following you 'cause it wants to explode near you and kill you."

You recently taught you're boyfriend, Kento Nanami, how to play minecraft...and surprisingly, he's doing wonderful. In a span of 3 days, he created a garden, a pool and a bakery in creative mode. And yesterday, he's tried survival mode for the first time.

"Well, that's not very polite. I even shared my meat with him..."

"You did?"

"Yes..."

"Pfff-"

"Did I say something funny, love?"

It's day 2 of your sweet boyfriend trying to maneuver his way in survival mode. He's doing terrific, hasn't died yet! He managed to build up on his food and inventory. And you told him countless times to build atleast a tiny house in order to protect him at night, but he keeps saying that he'll do it later because he has to prepare a looootttt.

"Kento, baby... creepers aren't interested in meat or making friends. They're simply there to explode and kill those around them"

"Oh. Well, then I guess I should run away from him."

"Yup, you definitely should."

He wouldn't even let you peak at his device! He'd be playing in the corner, like a weird teenager.

"How ya holding up? Can I please see what you're doing, baby?" You emphasize the word "please", hoping that Nanami would give in. But, he wouldn't even look at your puppy eyes!!

"No, sweetheart. I told you I'll show you when I'm done."

"Tsk. What are you even planning?" You pout, bouncing your legs on his lap, foot poking at his side.

He grabs your foot and places it on his lap again. He's playing minecraft on one hand, while the other massages your feet! What a man, indeed.

"It's a secret" He says in a singong tone, leaning over to grab the remote on the coffee table and peck your lips.

"Here, baby. Why don't you distract your pretty eyes with some television entertainment, and I'll get back to you with my finished work. Sound good, hmm? "

"okay... "

How were supposed to counter that when he kissed you so lovingly and whispered to you so softly?

A few hours had gone by. A variety show piqued your interest , however, you were more enamoured by the way you're boyfriend was so focused on his device. You could see the determination in his eyes.

He would also ask you random questions like "would you prefer wooden or tiled floors?" or "what colors would you like to see in a place?" And you would always answer quickly because you've been anticipating him, and the way he would hum in thought, then kiss you as a "thank you. "

You guessed he was finally building a himself a house.

But you were wrong.

He was building you and him a home.

He proudly and nervously handed you his phone, telling you to explore his carefully crafted house.

"I'm finished, love. Take a look at our house. I built it for us. This and so much more will be our life when we get married."

You were quite impressed, considering he built it in survival mode and for his first time doing so.

"Our house? Married? Marriage?"

It's an understatement to say that you were "flustered". You were red, stuttery, fidgety and baffled.

You did not expect him to bring that up. You've only been dating for a year. But don't get it wrong, you truly love Nanami, it's just that you didn't expect him to feel so strongly towards you to already consider marriage after only a year of dating!?

He chuckled. His deep, beautiful voice that reverberated through your heart.

"Yes, yn. Marriage. I-I'm not proposing to you right now! I'm just reminding you how much I love you, and that I'm more than ready to spend my lifetime with you."

He holds caresses your hands, eyes maintaining gentle, loving contact.

"I love you, Kento. Thank you, darling."

He leans in closer to kiss you. But you interrupt him midway. You whisper.

"Soooo, when are you going to propose?"

"Soon. In a beautiful place I know you'll like, with delicious food, a calming ambience, and just the two of there to experience it. "

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Kento Nanami, you're boyfriend of one year, builds you a house in minecraft to profess his love for you and confess that he's ready to upgrade to husband mode.

[magicbystarlight]

A Lady and Her Knight

Gwayne Hightower x Velyaron! (Vaemond’s daughter) Reader

Summary: You tease a knight and he falls ridiculously in love with you for it.

Word Count: 6.3k (I had to stop myself)

Warnings: 18+, Brief misogyny and xenophobia (not from Gwayne), injuries, verbal & physical teasing, milk comes out your nose, fluuufff, Gwayne is a romantic, oral sex (fem! receiving), grinding, Gwayne makes a mess. Minors DNI.

A/N: This is self indulgent, I make no apologies

“All this,” you muttered, eyeing the servants as they continued to scurry about in preparation for the various nobles who’d be arriving within the following days, “for a boy that may not even exist.”

Your aunt, Princess Rheanys, sighed beside you. “As is the way of the world.”

You could still remember her standing between your Uncle Corlys and the old King Jahearyes, Visyers and his then pregnant wife Aemma opposite them. The Queen Who Never Was. Your father’s confidence she’d be made queen and that his brother would pass High Tide to him. Your father’s sudden switch in loyalties when the council had named Viserys instead. “A woman can never rule.” What a statement to make to a daughter.

“At least,” she said, taking your arm to continue strolling through the bustling courtyard, “this shall offer you a chance to be amongst more than sailors and children.”

You mirrored her teasing smile. “The children I do not so much mind. Perhaps I shall take them to see the knights practice in the training yard.”

She said you name warmly, a fondness built through years of companionship during her husband’s frequent voyages and trips to King’s Landing, “perhaps instead you will find company with those more suited for your age while you are here.”

Nose scrunched, you asked, “Are you trying to rid yourself of me? Or is Laena?” It was all in jest, but you wouldn’t doubt your young cousin would like a less astute guardian during her time here. It wouldn’t surprise you if there wasn’t at least one attempt to sneak off to the dragon pit. “No, it must be Laenor. I have embarrassed him too oft on our journey with my superior knots.” He’d need to improve them soon. Not only for the sake of his future as Lord of the Tides, but if he ever hoped to be a dragon rider like his mother. Rope secured the saddles better than anything else.

“I assure you, sweet niece, no one is displeased with you. It is only my wish that you enjoy this trip as much as everyone else.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you assented. “I suppose I shall try, if only to please you, Princess.”

—

The wish went unfulfilled. Instead, you found yourself hidden behind closed doors serving as cupbearer to the Small Council in place of the younger princess. The Realm’s Delight, it was reasoned, should be the face that greeted the lords and their kin in the absence of the king or his queen. That the Hand’s daughter stood at her side was only right. And, you who so oft served as cupbearer within High Tide, were a perfect replacement for the time being.

It was not the sort of gossip you’d hoped to partake in, but still you listened intently as you filled cups again and again with their preferred Dornish Red. Your uncle hardly touched his now as he gave another plea for them to take his warning of the Crab Feeder seriously. But once again, it was brushed off by the Hand with the empty promise that it was taken under advisement. Talk turned quickly into that of the tourny. You had to turn your back so they could not see the roll of your eyes. Back and forth, the king argued his child was a boy who’d be born at some time during the week despite the insistence of part of his council that it wasn’t certain.

When you turned back, you caught Corlys’s frustrated eye. The Triarchy had already made trouble for ships that ported in Driftmark. Were it to continue there would be financial burden on the realm. One your house would feel first. And the king and his council did not much care. Your head bowed ever so slightly in acknowledgement of his ire before his attention returned to the discussion at hand. You made to do the same, but the heavy gaze of the Hand himself had you quickly averting your own to the floor. It stayed there for the remaining minutes as the inane chatter dissolved and the men rose to depart.

You were quick to your uncle’s side. He’d want to speak with his wife and air his grievances in a more hospitable setting. You’d take the children to the gardens or perhaps the training yard as you’d first planned.

“Lord Corlys,” Otto Hightower called, pausing your escape. He strode down the table, coming to stand on his other side. “I wish to assuage your worries that you have gone unheard today. You have not. Once the tourney has passed and the heir is in the king’s hand, there shall be a much more comprehensive discussion with the Council of what shall be done with this crab feeder.”

The stiff posture your uncles had held eased. “That is good to hear.”

Otto hummed. “And I would like to invite you, Princess Rhaenys, and,” his attention fell on you, “your niece to dine with me this evening.”

An eyebrow rose on your uncle’s face.

“My nephew arrived with my son from Old Town this morning. As he is the future Lord of Old Town, I think it would be very wise for him to build a relationship with Driftmark and learn from your many successes.”

Flattery was always your uncle’s vice. As was the opportunity to talk of his great adventures. He bowed his head. “We’d be honored.”

—

You weren’t nearly drunk enough. But your aunt had ceased the flow of wine and had whispered to a servant to have it replaced with a nut milk after you’d downed your second glass. Perhaps it was for the best. A loose tongue would surely injure the idiot beside you.

On and on Lord Ormund went, talking about nothing save for his own life. The gardens in Old Town he’d one day inherit, the two links he’d earned at the Citadel, how well trained he was with a sword, how he’d received three offers of marriage from lords of lesser houses for their daughters, and how thrice he’d denied them.

“Lovely girls, I am sure, but too commonly pretty. I myself want a wife of more exotic beauty.”

“Perhaps you should speak with my uncle then,” you said, shoving your fork so forcefully into a slice of potato it broke apart, “he could help you prepare for your journey across the Narrow Sea. He knows many of the nobility within Volantis and Braavos as well. He may know of a match suitable for a future Lord.”

He laughed. “No, no. I am not a man built for sea travel. Nor would I wish for a wife of a foreign mind. Too many queer customs.”

You held in a rather rude retort. “An exotic beauty without a foreign mind? I believe you may find a mermaid with more ease.”

“You are a modest creature.”

You choked on your milk trying to stifle a laugh followed by the awful feeling of it snorting out of your nose. You’d been flirted with before, but never so poorly. As he showed concern and your aunt and a servant mopped up your mess with napkins, Otto’s eldest son drawled, “Careful, cousin. You’ll kill the poor girl with your charm.”

A coughing fit covered another repressed laugh. Your aunt’s hand patted your back. Once you’d caught your breath and cleared the water from your eyes with a handkerchief pulled from the bust of your dress, you met Gwayne’s sea-blue ones. They crinkled in a way that had you thinking there was a smile hidden behind his own goblet. The cloth in your hand pressed against your mouth to try to stop yet another bout of laughter and you had to train your gaze on the table to keep any composure. Gods, this dinner could be the death of you.

“Are you feeling ill, my lady?” Ormund questioned.

“I am afraid I am,” you said, still hiding your mouth behind the cloth. “I had hoped it would pass as I was very much looking forward to this lovely dinner, but I fear it has crippled me beyond politeness. My apologies, but I think it best I retire for the evening and rest.”

“But of course,” Otto said. The Hand of the King saw through your act. You realized it as he offered his nephew to walk you to your chambers. When you rejected the idea, trying to implore the table you were fine to go alone, Otto merely said with a smile, “It is a long walk. It would ease my mind to know you were escorted there safely, especially given your delicate health at the present.”

Your eyes flicked from your aunt’s to your uncle’s looking for support. You had no desire to deal with Ormund alone. But they merely agreed. Your aunt’s arched brow hinted that it was a consequence of your own actions.

“Ormund should stay.” Gwayne was already standing as he spoke. “It’s a rare thing to get to speak with a Lord such as Lord Coryls. As I am not set to inherit a Lordship like you cousin, I shall ensure the lady is returned safely. I wish to visit the stables anyways.” He was a man of confidence, striding to the door and pausing at it to offer his arm. “My lady?”

You nearly knocked over your chair standing. A rushed farewell is all you offered the rest of the table before meeting Gwayne at the door and taking his arm. “This is where you say thank you,” he said when you reached the bottom of the stairs, far far away from the ears of your respective families.

“Thank you?”

He smirked. “For aiding you in your distress.”

“I was not in distress.”

A snort.

“I wasn’t! I was mildly inconvenienced at best.”

“Perhaps when I return this evening, I shall tell my dear cousin how fondly you spoke of him. How struck you were by him that you nearly swooned speaking of his handsome features.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, retracting your arm from his. “You would not dare.”

He grinned. A grin so charming, it could convince a saint to sin. A grin you had a strong urge to smack. “Is that a risk you’re willing to take over a few words of gratitude?”

You stared at him for a long while. His grin never wavered. The fool thought he had won. You cocked your head and, with a voice so sweet you could taste it, said, “You are right, Ser Gwayne. Thank you for your daring rescue. Though I fear a simple ‘thank you’ is not nearly enough.” His grin shrank as you stepped closer to him. “Perhaps a kiss for such chilvary?” Your hand rose to his chin.

His throat bobbed as you stroked his jaw. “My lady,” he tried to say, hand rising to halt yours.

“No, I suppose a kiss would not be appropriate.” You took another step forward, chest pressing against him. “My maidenhead is much more proportionate to such an act of bravery.” You grinned then.

His smile had fallen away. “You mock me?”

“You started it,” you shrugged. You tried to step back, but his grip tightened on your wrist to hold you in place.

A breath left him. He stared down at you, a look of shock that melted to one of amusement. Breath warm on your cheek, Gwayne leaned in and whispered, "A dangerous game to play. A lesser man would take your teasing as an invitation.”

You tilted your head up, nose brushing his, and mockingly cooed, "My savior.”

He snorted and released his grip, fingers dragging along your palm before his touch vanished. He shook his head and took a step away, putting distance between the two of you. It did little to help the tension. “We should get you to your rooms before dinner ends less you wish to tell Ormund the truth of your spilled milk.”

—

“It’s not fair,” Leanor whined as he tugged at the rope that bound his wrists. “How am I supposed to untie something without any hands?”

Leana giggled, her own ropes dangling from her wrists. “It’s easy!”

Leanor frowned.

“It’s not easy,” you corrected, plucking his knot until it came loose. The godswood was empty besides your trio. “It takes skill and practice to be able to do. It took me years to do it.”

“But why do I have to?”

You sighed. “Because, you,” you poked his nose, “are a valuable captive to have. And if you ever are in such a position, I want you to be able to get out of it.”

Leanor pouted, but didn’t argue more. He rubbed his freed wrists and watched as you tied Leana. It didn’t take long before he was bored, complaining he wanted to go to the training yards to see the knights practice. Leana soon followed.

You were on the verge of caving to their pleas when another trio entered the godswood. Rhaynera, Alicent, and Gwayne.

“Are you holding these children hostage?” Gwayne called.

“Yes!” the children yelled back. The ladies were giggling as they came upon you, Alicent holding a large book to her chest.

You rolled your eyes. “Tis a pleasure to see you again, Ser Gwayne. Though I fear it is poor timing as we are about to depart to the training yard.”

“We are?” Leana asked excitedly

“What fortunate timing,” Rhaynera disagreed, sharing a smirk with his sister, “as that is where Ser Gwayne is headed.”

Leanor looked at him with round, awed filled eyes. “To train for the tournament?”

“Indeed,” he said, kneeling to pull the knot on the boy’s wrists. It came undone easily. “Do you intend to become a knight one day?”

The boy nodded eagerly.

Gwayne looked to Leana, offering her the same aid. Her eyes were not quite as wide with awe. She freed herself with her teeth.

Gwayne chuckled. “I see you take after your cousin.” He stood and extended his hand towards you. You looked from it to his face. A teasing smile and a spark of challenge in his eyes. You could have sworn his lips curled wider when your fingers grasped his palm.

“Careful, Ser. Such high praise will inflate my ego nearly as much as your own. I’m not sure there’s enough space in all King’s Landing for that.”

—

Gwayne was a very pretty man. Clean, well groomed, and handsomely dressed, he was the sort songs would be written about. But after hours in the training yard, dirt clinging to his sweat drenched skin and hair askew? You were not sure there was a word for it, but whatever it was made you ache in ways unfit of a lady. The children had been sheparded off an hour before by their mother, much to their chagrin. They'd been entranced by the fighting and weapons and grieved to leave it behind for arithmetic. But you'd stayed. Leaned against a wall as he'd shown off and you'd pretended to be unimpressed.

"You are still here, my lady?" he asked as he stepped out of the crowd of knights and squires, chest heaving from exertion.

You shrugged, trying to keep your eyes trained on his face. "I've not else to do."

"And you are certain you have not stayed to avoid anyone?" He leaned beside you.

That confused you. "Who would I be avoiding?"

Your confusion confused him. "Ormund?"

You breathed a laugh. "Oh my, I had forgotten he existed." Another giggle. Gwayne's beautiful smile spread wide. The bright white a contrast against his dirtied skin. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. You reached into the bust of your gown and withdrew a handkerchief. "You're dripping."

He accepted it and wiped his face, pausing to inhale the scent. "Lavender?"

"And rosemary." You grieved to see the grim wiped away.

He grimaced as he surveyed the cloth. "I fear I may have stained it."

"It is only a handkercief."

"I shall have it cleaned."

"Ser Gwayne," you cut him off and reached into the otherside, pulling free another. Your body tingled as his gaze lingered on your breasts. "Tis a cloth. I have many more." His cheeks colored as he realized his gaze had yet to waver. He accepted the second and mopped up the sweat from his neck.

"I have offended you."

You snorted. "Hardly." Flattered more like.

"Still," he said, folding the cloths and tucking them in his pocket, "I do not wish to have you think me a pig."

"A pig you are most certainly not. As you said, a lesser man would have taken my teasing as invitation last night," you assured.

Gwayne laughed, throwing his head back and nearly choking on the sound. "You are truly a wonder."

Your nonchalance was beginning to crack. The teasing had heated your skin in such a way it turned damp. You fanned yourself with your hand to aleve the warmth. "A wonder who is in want of a bath."

"You wish to join me in a bath?"

Surprise colored your laugh. “My, my, you have grown quite bold in but a day! Perhaps you do belong in a pen.”

—

You sat beside Alicent, clapping along at the Dornishman who’d unseated a Tarley squire. You remembered him from the training yard from the last few days you’d spent watching. Vaguely. Most of your attention had been concentrated on someone else. Lord Baratheon embarrassed himself next, asking for favor of The Queen Who Never Was only to be unseated by the very same Dornishman. Your aunt’s smirk as he was dragged away matched your own.

Your heart raced as Gwayne rode out in the line of knights for Prince Daemon to choose from. His face was hidden behind his helmet, the motif of the High Tower adorning it like a crown. Prince Daemon passed the line slowly, studying the options. He veered his horse back at the end of the line and strutted past several knights before pausing, backtracking, and pointing his lance. At Gwayne. From the spat Daemon and Otto had had during the last Small Council meeting the day before, you doubted it was anything more than some petty vendetta on the prince's part.

But Gwayne trotted happily to the stands and came to a halt in front of you. He lifted his visor, grin wide. He held his lance towards you. "Might you do me the honor, my lady, of giving me your favor?"

Heat bloomed through your face as you stood, clutching the garland tightly. Eyes bore into you from every angle. You let garland, wrapped in rope and seashells, slide down the lance. "I wish you luck, my knight."

He gave a short bow, shutting his visor and returning to the field. The herald announced the start as you returned to your seat. Nails dug into the wood. Gwayne clipped the prince's shield, nearly knocking him off his horse and sending his lance flying. But upon their second meeting, the prince speared his new lance into the ground in front of Gwayne's horse. Both horse and rider hit the ground hard. His helmet had flown off and his face took the full force of the fall.

You stood as his body lay limp on the ground. For the few seconds he did not move, a crushing despair wrapped around your lungs. He’d only been in your life for a fortnight now, but you could not imagine it without him. A silly romantic notion you’d have mocked another for. But you could not help it. The despair eased only slightly when his head rose. Alive. Squires took hold of his arms and half carried, half dragged him away.

"My apologies, my lady," Daemon called cheerily as he cantered over, "for besting your knight. Perhaps I may take on your favour in recompense?"

Gwayne's retreating form disappeared behind the flaps of a tent. Your gaze turned on the prince, hard and cold. "Thank you, but my favor is not so easily redirected."

His smirk did not falter. "Well, that is a pity." You do not stay to see what conversation he had with his niece and Alicent.

The men in the tent tried to force you away. Not a place for a lady. But after years on docks and ships, you knew how to hold your ground in places much harsher than some medical tent. Gwayne laid on a bed, armor gone and face cleaned. Cuts littered his face and his eye was beginning to bruise. But he was awake, watching you in amusement. "Are you lost, my lady?"

Relief sagged your shoulders. "I was worried." You knelt at his bed and gripped his hand. "Are you alright?"

"My ego may never recover, but my body will."

Your other hand brushed hair from his face. "You do not give your ego enough credit. It shall recover quite well." Your teasing lacked any bite.

He leaned his head into your palm. "With your attentions nursing it, perhaps."

You shook your head, but smiled. "Perhaps." You lowered your voice. "If there is anything you need, any way I can help, you must tell me."

"There is one thing." His hand squeezed yours. "I have not yet asked your uncle. I had hoped to after I crowned you Queen of Love and Beauty, but alas." You bit your lip at the heat creeping up your neck. He sat up, holding your hand tighter. "I cannot think of a less romantic setting than here, but I can no longer contain myself. Will you allow me the honor of your hand?"

"Do you not already have it?" you teased.

His eyes narrowed. "That is not an answer."

"It is not," you agreed. "But it is a taste of what to expect when you are my husband."

His smile returned. "Call me that again."

"My husband?"

He hummed, bringing your hand to his lips. "Yes I quite like the sound of that."

Your smile mirrored his. "Shall I call for a Septon?"

"Tempting as the offer is, I have already denied you romance in my offer. I will not deny you a true wedding as well." He kissed the back of your hand again. "Nor am I up to face your uncle's sword were I to marry you without his consent."

You heaved a sigh and pouted. "Denied me? What is romance if not a confession made from nothing more than one's heart? I shall be the envy of all who learn that your love was so repulsed by restraint. I could marry you here and now and be just as happy." You leaned forward and placed a kiss against his temple. In a whisper you added, "Happier perhaps, as I would share your bed this night."

He groaned. "Do not make my recovery so difficult, my lady."

You smiled, pulling away. "You are right, my knight. We should perhaps wait until you are at least fully capable of taking me in the ways a man should his wife."

"You are cruel," he chuckled. "Perhaps I should rescind my offer."

"And deprive yourself of a wife such as me? Never."

"No, never.

—

Nine moons. They wanted to wait nine moons for a wedding. Time for you both to return to your respective homes and then for you to travel via ship to Old Town. Nine whole moons apart.

“It’s not ideal,” Gwayne agreed as you walked through the gardens. “But it is not as long as it could be. I’ve seen engagements last years.”

Your head rested against his arm. “I should have convinced you to marry me in that tent.” The scars had nearly healed on his face. A tragedy. They suited him well.

He stopped and took both your hands in his. His lips brushed across your knuckles. “It would not have taken much.”

You tilted your head, a soft smile spreading across your face. His nose bumped against yours. His breath fanned across your cheeks. Your hand moved to cup his cheek, thumb tracing a scar. “How cruel for you to tell me days later. Is it not punishment enough I must wait nine moons for even a kiss?”

He hummed. His hand raised to cradle the back of your neck. The tips of his fingers danced along the exposed skin there. Tension coiled tight in your stomach. You tilted your head up ever so slightly, breath fanning against his mouth.

Gwayne hesitated. “We should not.”

“Please?”

He closed the little distance, lips pressing softly against yours. It was quick and light and not nearly enough. You chased his lips as he pulled away, the hand on his cheek not letting him escape. Another kiss. Longer, less delicate. Then another. His lips parted and his tongue slid across yours in a plea for entrance. One you granted happily. Your hand fell to his tunic and tugged him along as you began to walk backwards into a small alcove where you’d be less likely to be seen.

Hidden away, his arm wrapped around your waist and held you taut against him. The kiss was deep and desperate and the ache between your legs maddening.

"Gwayne," you gasped against his lips. You pressed closer. The groan that left his mouth shot straight to your core. You whined, pulling back from the kiss and looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "Gwayne," you repeated.

"We shouldn't," he muttered, kissing your cheek. "Not here. Not now."

Your head fell back as his lips traced the column of your neck. "Why?"

"Because," his teeth nipped at the underside of your jaw, "I am not a lesser man." His nose traced along your jaw, stopping at the hinge. "And the first time I take you, I want to be able to spend the entire night worshiping you in our wedding bed."

"Gwayne.”

His groan was pained. He dropped his forehead against your shoulder, grip on your waist tightening. Had it not been for the call of your name from further in the gardens, you were sure you could have convinced him of much more than a few stolen kisses.

—

Daemon was not an easy man to find. After the birth of the king’s son and his loss of the tourney, he’d been absent much of the remaining festivities. But luck was on your side as you found him strolling through the same corridor as you. Alone.

"Prince Daemon," you called, catching his attention. He paused and turned towards you, an easy smirk on his face.

"My Lady," he greeted, bowing his head. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

You smiled. “How would you like to displease the Lord Hand?”

—

Just as promised, guards were nowhere to be found when you scurried through the sleeping Keep. The unattended door opened without resistance. Crackling from the fire and soft snores were the only sounds in the room. With a smile, you shut the door and drooped your cloak over a chair.

Your steps were silent, careful, as you came upon the bed.

Gwayne snored. Not loud, not obnoxious. Soft and sweet. He slept on his stomach, arms wrapped around the pillow under his head. Only a thin sheet covered him and it laid dangerously low on his hips. His bare back a canvas of muscle and freckles.

You called his name and shook his shoulder. He snorted, turning his head and cracking his eyes. They went wide. Like the pure maiden he was, he reached for the sheet and pulled it to cover his bare chest.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could not sleep.”

His head tilted and eyebrows drew together. "That is...not a good reason."

"I could not sleep," you repeated, a teasing edge to your voice, "because I could not stop thinking about you."

He swallowed, the lump in his throat bobbing. "My love," he said, voice thick. It was the first time he called you that. “You should not be here. If someone saw you—“

"They didn’t.”

His gaze was heavy as he searched your face and then fell to the lace trimmed shift. And your bare thighs. “Have you come to seduce me?”

You leaned forward, breath ghosting across his lips. His hand gripped the sheet tightly, knuckles white. His tongue flicked across his lower lip. "Is it working?"

“This is highly improper. We are not married.”

“But we will be.” You pulled back. “Unless you have changed your mind.”

His arm snaked around your waist, dragging you on top of him with a surprised yelp. The sheet was the only thing between you. Something pressed against your rear. No, not something. Him. Cock. Penis. Member. Whatever it was called. It was hard. His hands settled on your waist. Adoration and desire had him staring at you like a man starved. "My lady, my love," he murmured, thumbs stroking your ribs, "I shall never change my mind."

"Good," you whispered, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss against his lips. A kiss that turned more urgent and deep as your hands roamed along his chest. He groaned, the sound muffled by your mouth. His hands slid to your hips to push you lower. His hardness pressed against your aching cunt. You rocked against it, relishing the feeling and the way his head fell back, breaking the kiss, and a string of curses you’d never heard from him escaped.

"Gwayne," you gasped, rolling your hips. His grip tightened. He rocked with you, creating an addicting friction.

”This must go,” he said, tugging up your shift. You helped him discard it quickly. "Gods," he hissed. Your own curse fell from your lips as his hands cupped your breasts. “How are they more beautiful than I imagined?”

“Imagined?”

His thumb flicked across a nipple, drawing a gasp from you. “Every night since you offered me your maidenhead.” The coil in your belly tightened. He flipped the two of you over, the weight of his body pinning you down. The sheet had been pushed down enough for his cock to spring free. It lay hard against your thigh. His lips pressed kisses along your jaw. His hand returned to your breast. His other snaked between your bodies and down.

His finger pressed against the little bundle of nerves. Pleasure shot through your veins, your back arching. He kissed down your chest and took a nipple into his mouth. His finger worked slow, teasing circles around the nub. The coil wound tighter.

"Gwayne," you sighed as a second finger joined the first. They dipped inside of you. "Gwayne."

His chuckle vibrated against your skin. His lips traveled lower, peppering kisses over your stomach. The hand on your breast slipped lower, wrapping around your thigh and spreading your legs wider.

You moaned as his tongue flicked over the bundle.

"So wet," he moaned, dipping his tongue inside. Your hand buried in his hair, urging him to keep going. And he did. Licking, sucking, teasing. Every motion had the coil winding tighter. Your toes curled. Your hips bucked. With a cry, pleasure flooded through every vein.

Trembling, panting. Eyes shut from the blissful high. The bed shifted. The warmth of his body above yours disappeared. A moment later, his lips pressed against yours.

"My love," he said, stroking a thumb along your jaw.

Your eyes opened, staring at his flushed face. A sheen of sweat covered his brow. His lips swollen. You surged forward, crashing your lips against his.

A growl rumbled through his chest as he pinned you to the bed again. His tongue invaded your mouth, claiming it as his. His cock pressed against your thigh. You spread your legs wider, welcoming him between them. He rocked, the tip brushing between your folds. He sucked in a breath and his eyes squeezed shut. His fingers dug into the mattress. He was holding himself back.

"We shouldn't," he mumbled.

You frowned, sitting up on your elbows. "Why not?”

“Because I will not take your maidenhead until by law and the gods I am your husband.”

Your hips rolled and his tip slid through the wetness once more, drawing another moan from him. He pressed his forehead against yours.

"You are cruel."

"Tis what you love about me," you countered.

"My love," he murmured, pressing his lips against yours in a soft, brief kiss. "My love." Another. And another.

Your hands braced against his chest. "My husband."

He groaned, burying his head against your neck. He nipped at the skin and rocked against you, careful to not slip inside. You bit your lip to stifle your own sounds as his cock rubbed against your bundle. Your hand slid to his rear, digging into the flesh, and rocking with him. It was an intoxicating sensation. Feeling him against you, hard and heavy. "My love," he gasped against your collarbone.

"My husband," you breathed.

A stilted breath. He hips snapped forward once. Twice. Spend coated your thigh. His cock softened against your leg. He pressed kisses along your neck and shoulder. "My love."

You chuckled. "I believe you've made a mess, good Ser."

He grunted and lifted his head, grinning. He pressed a kiss against the tip of your nose. "I believe that is your fault, my love."

"My fault? I hardly think so."

He nuzzled his nose against yours. "I am but little more than the victim of your temptation. I was peacefully sleeping when you came near nude into my private chambers to seduce me."

"Perhaps you should lock your doors if you do not wish to be disturbed."

"Perhaps I should." Another soft kiss and he peeled himself away. A moment later he returned with two handkerchiefs in his hands. Your handkerchiefs. "The servents are going to think I had these cleaned so I could relieve myself in them." He used them to clean the mess he'd left across your thigh.

Tears welled in your eyes as you watched. He was set to leave in two days time and then you would not see him for nine moons. Not see his face, not hear his voice, not make him laugh. You did not fear he would change his mind. Only that his absence would drown you in despair.

Concern painted his face as he looked up to your face. “What is wrong?”

“I shall miss you.”

Handkerchiefs discarded on the floor, he came and cradled you against him. “I shall miss you too.”

—

“Funny thing,” the prince said as you poured a new bottle of wine into the decanter. You were surprised he made it to the small council meeting. “I sent servants this morning to discover a defilled maiden in her bethrothed’s bed, but all they found was said betrothed and a few defiled handkerchiefs.”

You bit your tongue to quell the giggle that threatened. What beautiful shade of red had Gwayne turned upon discovery? “The betrothed sounds like an honorable man.”

“And the maiden like a woman who denied me a great pleasure.”

“If it’s any consolation, she too was denied a great pleasure.” You paused, cocking your head. “Well, not entirely denied. But she is a maiden still.”

“A pity for all.”

—

The carriages were packed, the Hightower entourage trilling about to leave in less than an hour's time. Alicent and Rhaynera were amongst the pack. They’d be in Old Town for the next year to witness the wedding. But Gwayne had yet to join them.

“My cousin is not the timeliest. Prepare to be late for much. You shall spend much of your marriage waiting for him to tear away from his own reflection,” Ormund taunted. He’d been less than happy about the match. A bruised ego.

You smiled sweetly at him. “I expect to be late to much. For I shall find it difficult to tear myself away from him and our bed.” He blanched at that and soon excused himself.

“What in heavens did you say to send him running off like that?”

You spun to find your betrothed and his teasing smirk. “I have no idea. We were only speaking of your tardiness and how frequently you and I shall be tardy once we are wed.”

“And here I thought your cruelty could only be aimed at me.” He took your hand and placed a kiss against it. The most he could offer in such a public place. And the last for many moons.

A pain shot through your heart.

“Have you come to say goodbye?” Alicent called from a few yards away. It confused you as she made her way over. Had you not already wished her a safe trip?

“Indeed, sister,” Gwayne said, bowing his head. “What sort of brother would I be if I did not come to see you off?”

You held your tongue long enough for them to speak their farewells. When she’d returned to the princess’s side, you rounded on him. “You’re staying?”

He continued to stare ahead, watching his kin prepare for their journey. “Nine moons was far too long to be apart. Lady Leana was kind enough to help convince the Lord and Lady of the Tides that I should see the ancestral home of my betrothed.” Tears fell down your cheeks. Fretting over the display, his thumb swept away the wet streaks “My love, I thought you would be happy?”

“I am sorry. These are not sad tears, I am happy.” How you wished you were alone. “I am beyond happy.” The tears continued to fall. You pulled free a handkerchief from your bust and dabbed your face. You were prepared to say something heartfelt about how glad you were to have him, but his eyes were locked on your breasts. And a bulge was forming in the trousers. “Does a handkerchief arose you?”

Red colored his face and he attempted a casual pose with his hands to hide the growing problem. “It is your and your lovely bosom’s fault.”

A wicked grin spread across your face. “It is like a dog trained with a bell,” you mused. “I wonder what other tricks I can teach you in nine moons trapped with me on ships and an island.”