#rhaegar you raggedy ass bitch

[sunspearesque]

i can't even begin to understand the thought process of rhaegar and his utterly absurd decision to take the most powerful kingsguards with him to either fight or to guard his 15-year-old mistress/abductee (?) and their babe with questionable legitimacy while leaving behind his wife and his two children (one of them is his fucking heir) to be guarded by who exactly? 16-year-old jaime lannister? (who was “guarding” the king that kept him “hostage”)

rhaegar knew damn well his father is going even more insane after a war he started by his utter stupidity and selfishness and they won’t be safe yet he didn’t bother to ensure their safety before he fucks off… the only explanation is that he didn’t give a flying fuck about anyone but himself and his delulu which makes him complicit in their tragic death as much as his mad daddy who kept them hostages and the lannisters who slaughtered them

[sunspearesque]

this was so painfully and beautifully written.. oh my god my heart is about to burst. thank you for sharing this with us <3

and it’s so gut wrenching

Love me with your worst intentions. 

It had been a wedding gift from her brothers - a beautiful dagger commissioned by Doran and crafted by the blacksmith in Sunspear and bejeweled with the most precious stones Oberyn had acquired from across the Narrow Sea. They gifted it to her in a small chest as decorated as the weapon it carried before she left for Kingslanding. 

Elia had picked up the dagger from the velvet inside of the chest and relished in the feeling of it between her fingers when they handed it over to her. She had loved it. Daggers were one of the few weapons she had learned to use. One of the few that her delicate health allowed her to possess. I do not think I will need it. She had said to them. I will be a Princess of the Realm with many a sword and a Prince sworn to my protection. Doran and Oberyn insisted nonetheless - they would sleep easier if they knew she was not unarmed.

And she had not had any need for it. She took it with her wherever she travelled - from Dragonstone to Kingslanding and back - but she rarely took it out of its chest. Rare occasions being the ones when she had it lightly polished so it would not lose its lustre.

Elia had never felt the need for it. Until she did - at Harrenhal. Rhaegar had crowned another who was not her. And she knew - just knew - what precarious protection that her husband promised her within the Sept of Baelor was no more. 

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