#summerhate

[demonstars]

okay dry heat is awful because you dehydrate BUT i can stand +38ºC in dry heat way easier than 34/36 humid, humid heat does not care if you're in the shade it gets inside your body and will not leave you -eras

i think it has to do with what you're used to, tbh. dream who has only taken in humid heat and is used to working with that kind of heat would have a harder time with dry heat, because of how it works and how it attacks your body and i say that as someone who was raised in humid heat and had to get used to dry heat later in life (<- i hate it here). it is just a different thing to manage, and it is harder the more covered you are

[axea-area]

Yu huu Big summerh blow out

[atopvisenyashill]

AU where instead of having a dead ladies club we have a dead dudes club: Aerys dies in Summerhal and Rhaella eventually becomes Queen regent for her son. Joanna, Minisa and Lyarra live while their husbands Tywin, Hoster, and Rickard don't. And Cassana survives the shipwreck along with patchface.

me seeing this ask:

anyways, let's first establish how each man dies.

Aerys - like you said, just killing him at Summerhall is easiest.

Tywin - if we kill him during the Reyne/Tarbeck revolt, it butterflies away all the Lannister kids so we'll have it be that something goes horrifically bad during the Defiance of Duskendale and he dies there.

Steffon - Cassana washes up on shore with Patchface in 278.

Hoster - this one's a bit tricky because in order to die before Robert's Rebellion kicks off, something Weird and Tragic has to happen to him during a time period that is more or less chill in the riverlands. He does fight in the War of the Ninepenny Kings but that happens in 260 and Edmure likely isn't born until 267. We could say he dies in the Greyjoy Rebellions, but that's after Robert's Rebellion by a few years. We'll just invent a sickness or accident that kills him, instead of Minisa dying in childbirth lol. if it makes the plot more interesting for him to die during the Greyjoy Rebellions though, tbh, that's probably also fine, but I do think having only one (1) parent at Riverrun is important to how the kids develop.

Rickard - this one is similarly difficult. we could just have him die when he does die, and just say that Lyarra didn't die.

anyways, let's dig into what this changes right off the bat, sort of set the scene here-

Rhaella is like 13-14 when Summerhall happens, and then like 15-16 I think when Jaehaerys II dies, so not only is she a very young Queen, she's likely to remarry. Since she's not even at the age of majority yet (jfc), I think if we assume she's regent, it means she allied with Aerys' friends to oust Jaehaerys II's small council - so Tywin is for sure still Hand, and ruling the entire realm in all but name. I do imagine that not only is Steffon very close at court as well, but Cassana becomes close to Rhaella.

Rhaegar won't be allowed to wait until he's like 21 to marry, they will be looking at marriages when he's like 12-13 and likely intend for him to get married right away at like 15-16 and consummate, because he's the only male heir.

Edmure becomes Lord of Riverrun very young, Minisa as his regent. I think given that Minisa will be regent, Catelyn still has a lot of parentification stuff happening here, but I do think it's more likely she notices the crushes going on between Lysa, Cat, and Petyr.

Robert still becomes Lord of Storm's End - he's 15 when Steffon dies, which is plenty old to take up his seat. However, with his mother still around, Stannis and Renly have a parental influence at least.

alright let's go event by event here:

262 AC: Jaehaerys II dies and little three year old Rhaegar Targaryen is crowned King. Though there is an initial push by Edgar Sloane and Jaehaerys' small council to establish one of their own as Regent and Hand of the King, Queen Rhaella is successful in ousting her father's men in favor of her own - mostly the husbands, brothers, or cousins of her ladies. This includes, of course, the impressive and young Tywin Lannister as Hand, probably Steffon Baratheon, and honestly, it's quite possible here that Lewyn or Loreza's husband is named to the small council as well, given the fact that we know one of Rhaella's ladies was Loreza. Despite being so young, Rhaella is named Regent.

272 AC: A decade with the trio of young Rhaegar, Queen Regent Rhaella, and Hand of the King Tywin has allowed the realm to prosper. Without Aerys pawing at her ladies, Rhaella holds onto several close allies, and neither Tywin nor Joanna spend their days being humiliated at court to curry favor with the king. Rhaella is likely more level headed than Aerys, and isn't overpromising on things and then abandoning her projects soon after. There's likely been a push for her to remarry, if only so Rhaegar's children may have a Valyrian option to marry somewhere down the line? But on the other hand...it might be possible there's some problems at court re: everyone gossiping that if Tywin is the real King, and Rhaella is Queen, are they not...you know....that gets back to Joanna. Not only that, but I can bet there's tensions between Loreza's Dornish faction and Tywin, probably with Steffon in the middle because Tywin is clearly trying to get Rhaegar/Cersei hitched from an early age, Loreza is clearly trying to get Elia/Rhaegar hitched from an early age, and Steffon and Cassana are desperately fucking and having kids in the hopes of having a girl for Rhaegar to marry. We know there was a visit by Rickard during the first ten years, so it's very possible that Lyarra develops a friendship with Rhaella, and that instead of that dumb "i'm going to build another Wall" plan, Rhaella starts encouraging more people to be sent to the Wall.

275 AC: Rhaegar comes of age and takes his position as King without a regent. While I don't doubt he would keep Tywin on, I do think there's going to be tension here - we see this with both Jaehaerys and Aegon III, and even Joffrey really, that the move from child to adult can be a bit rough on the Hand/Regent/King relationship. I think Rhaegar, melancholy as he is, would want to be known as a good king, a kind king, and probably doesn't appreciate Tywin's cruelty. I think it makes a lot of sense that he'd purposefully scorn Tywin specifically for this reason - the same as Alysanne purposefully spurning Rogar's match or the Dragon Twins + Aegon III purposefully spurning the lords for Daenaera. It's about making a statement, it's about power, it's about standing out from the people who are trying to rule through you. I almost think it's likely Rhaegar and Elia still marry here, but it's possible Rhaegar decides to just straight up marry someone who isn't connected at court at all - not a Martell, not a Lannister, but maybe a Hightower or Tyrell. Especially, imo, because of Rhaegar's prophecy obsession - what if he visits Jenny's woods witch on his own? Or what if he visits Oldtown and sees Mad Maid Malora is heavy with magic? Maybe, knowing how often he stays at Summerhall to be an emo fuck, he marries Ashara?

277 AC: The Defiance of Duskendale. I don't know if an 18 year old would be this stupid, it does seem likely that he would just fall into the same trap Aerys did - ie "I want to prove I'm better than my Hand and I'll deal with the issue myself" - but I think Rhaella would be like "absolutely fucking not, you're the fucking KING, and you have no heir/only a baby for an heir, if you don't want Tywin to do it, send someone else then." I think it would be really fun if Rhaella got caught in this trap, Tywin completely botches getting her out and gets himself killed, and Rhaegar just goes "oh fuck that noise" and burns Duskendale to the ground his damn self. It could be an interesting change here that Rhaegar's madness + obsession with the prophecy gets kicked off not by his father's own madness but by the near loss of his mother. Even if Rhaella is mostly fine (she went years being tortured by Aerys, I think she's made of sterner stuff! I can see her being real shaken up for awhile before chilling out), the idea that he could really be The Last Dragon is terrifying. Suddenly, he needs to set this prophecy in motion, he needs to have more dragons, it can't just be himself and his mother.

279 AC: Another blow, just after losing Tywin and nearly losing {his mom? joncon? does he care that much about joncon lmao}, Steffon dies in a storm coming back from the Free Cities. Cassana lives but is quite shaken up by the entire event and retires from court to stay at home with her boys. Another blow happens later in the year, when Loreza dies, and Doran inherits Sunspear.

281 AC: So....now we're at the Tourney of Harrenhal, where shit gets real. Who Rhaegar marries will decide who is on his side here and who has started getting ready for Mad King 2.0 because I do imagine that in the four years since the Duskendale fuck up, a lot of the lords have started whispering. If he marries Elia or Ashara, he still has Dorne on lock. If he marries Malora, that might mean Doran is involved in the Southron Ambitions plot (although then again, he might not be, it's not like anyone thought to involve Doran in the wo5k until way too fucking late anyway). If he risks marrying someone like, completely outside of Westeros, I think something kinda crazy starts cooking at home with every single region having no reason to be loyal to him. Not to mention, if Lyarra is friendly with Rhaella, does he already know Lyanna? Since Hoster and Tywin are both dead here, it probably means Rickard had to reach out to Minisa and and Joanna and I'm really interested in how this goes, politics wise. Is it just Rickard and Minisa (and Jon Arryn) doing Southron Ambitions? Is Cassana getting involved after the loss of Steffon? And what does Rhaegar's small council look like now? Is it packed with Dornishmen and Crownlanders? With Reachers? Does he have some sort of woods witch as his Hand?

SO WHEN RHAEGAR TAKES LYANNA. For one thing, when Brandon gets to KL and starts shouting "COME OUT AND DIE" Rhaella isn't going to respond by burning everyone. I can see her maybe taking them captive because what they're accusing Rhaegar of, when he's the King, is pretty fucking severe but she's not just slaughtering them. She's sending the Kingsguard to go look for him while she holds the Northern faction at KL, and while I do think they'll go and get him, I think Rhaegar is going to say something like "it's fine, she's fine, leave us alone" and the North is gonna get real shitty about this. Brandon might attempt to leave. Lyarra might attempt to find Lyanna herself with a host of Northerners, or maybe with a host of stormlanders, riverlanders, or westermen. The crown has to respond to that, so there's likely to be some skirmishes here. Either Rhaegar is found with Lyanna at the Tower of Joy or Rhaegar finally appears and is like "why is everyone yelling" while everyone demands to know where Lyanna is. If he's cagey, the North and their allies are going to start attacking more boldly. If he says "yeah she's my mistress now, back off, I'm the king" I think everyone is too amped up to give a shit and the North refuses to stand down, which leads to whoever is leading them - Lyarra, maybe Ned - being labelled a traitor to the crown. This is going to domino effect quickly. If he says "yeah she's my wife now, back off, I'm king" he is losing everyone fast as fuck.

Anyways, I kept this kind of general in case you just wanted some like, general outline of what could happen but if you want what EYE think is most interesting, it's a) Rhaella at Duskendale b) Minisa being the one to mastermind Southron Ambitions, although Cassana could be fun as well c) LYARRA STARK REBEL WAR HERO. I think it's likely Rhaegar would try to "she's my mistress/wife" his way out of this but its not fucking happening. all those theories about how "lyanna and rhaegar got valyrian married jon is legitimate" no he's fucking not because no one is going to give a single solitary shit. Bigamy is not allowed in Westeros anymore or Aegon IV would have tried it. if he legitimizes his own kid, it's sort of like, okay great, but he was born a bastard, now Rhaegar is legitimizing his kid just like aegon iv, and everyone is going to see this as a threat. they're going to say he's insane. they're still going to oust him. the question here is - can rhaella, through her friendships with the wives and now leaders of southron ambitions, keep hold long enough so that even if Rhaegar dies, she can get his kid on the throne? Can she make peace with Robert? Or does she have to go on the run, not with her own kids, but with Rhaegar's children?

[targaryen-dynasty]

I’ve already spammed you with celebration questions but I’m really curious about summerhal👀👀

Summerhall you say? Well, here it is, served to you by the amazing @happilyhertale 😏

Your eyes are closed and your shaky breath echoes in the chambers. The rooms that you will share with your husband from now on.

The ceremony seems only distant in your memory and now so surreal as you lie here on this bed. How all eyes were on you when your eyes only looked into your uncle's. How you couldn't suppress a grin when you recognised the slightest smile around his lips. How he gently cupped your cheek with his rough hand before enveloping your lips with his…

"Hey... open your eyes," you hear Daemon say - almost softly.

You obey him and your eyes slowly open. The scenery shoots in on you as you lie on the bed in just your nightgown, your husband standing in front of the bed, looking at you, slowly opening his shirt.

"That's better," he says gently and smiles at you.

You don't know why you're so nervous. He's seen you naked countless times, driven you to ecstasy with his touch. But this time it's different, it's your wedding night.

He slowly approaches you as he slowly opens his trousers. Your fingers fiddle with the hem of your nightgown as you try to breathe more calmly. Without looking at him, you hear his trousers slide down.

Daemon's eyes linger on you. He takes in every nervous twitch and quickened breath and he moves closer.

"There's no need to be nervous. I've seen every inch of you, explored every curve, and tasted your sweet surrender. Tonight, we seal our union, and I will show you just how much you belong to me," he purrs, his voice low and seductive, "It will be special," his soft voice sounds and you hear the words you whispered to him countless nights ago.

I'm already a sucker for Uncle Daddy Daemon, but I bet this one will turn you into one, too! You can read the whole thing here!

✖️ 𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐖𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝟑𝐤! ✖️ 𝟑𝐤 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

[thefourdiamonds-fantrolls]

they just got to brenya's summerhive

it's almost morning so they gotta head to sleep rather quickly

allars is so amazed by how big the place is sobs

fedeun finally getting to straighten out its limbs

brenya parking the car while barnos carries all their bags to the rooms

they're about to have a good break.. :)

[thedeadthree]

— WIP FRIDAY !

TAGGED BY the dearest @unholymilf to share a few things ive been working on ! ty ty so much ash dear!

TAGGING: @feystepped, @risingsh0t, @kingsroad, @griffin-wood, @jendoe, @phillipsgraves, @marivenah, @leviiackrman, @chuckhansen, @denerims, @queennymeria, @aartyom, @blissfulalchemist, @shellibisshe, @adelaidedrubman, @florbelles, @corvosattano, @jackiesarch, @wayhavenots, @pegxcarter, @malefiicarum, @nightbloodraelle, @roofgeese, @morvaris, @jacobseed, @nuclearstorms, @carminasolis, @girlbosselrond, @anoras, @fragilestorm, @shadowglens, @arklay and you!

teehee i AT LAST got around to introducing the t*lou dears clowns with the one and only template from ash! so far i have tlou!olga and gianna <3 with this cutest coloring as well !

the VERY early stages of a piece for the dearest marta in honor of fh's release ! with orions cutest template!

another early stages but in honor of oc kiss week a piece for kenny and @griffin-wood's dear raylene with this template !

and now a bit of writing! moments before disaster if you will a piece for alva and rhaegy with a bit of rhaemion and enya lore connecting them to vanna and daemy and their babies !

Summerhal was beautiful at this hour. those fleeting moments before midday and after the morning when the sun was well off to reaching its zenith made even the hardest of hearts gaze in awe.

Alva descended from her horse, vermillion. To her left by a relatively small pond were the horses of Lord Rhaemion Targaryen of Starfall, the princess Elia’s dear longtime friend (and rumored paramour, he too a close and beloved friend of the prince as well, the nature of things was a topic for another morn). And the other of her dearest Prince Rhaegar Targaryen.

She recalls when Rhaemion spoke of reason for choosing his horse. The almost pearlescent mane of his chosen mount reminded him of the scales of his dragon, Parthunaax known by the histories as the Burned Overlord. The Targaryens of Starfall or the Amethyst or Dawn Dragons still possessed the ones belonging to the riders they were bound to during and following the dance. Baelor and Parthunaax, Calla and Nahvintaas (a ilmestian dragon of Vilemyr), and Valaerra who was Rhaemion’s ancestor and her she-dragon Numinex. Though the most notable among them was the Ethereal, the Violet Star of Starfall herself once bound to the mistress of mists Iovanna Dayne, Starspire. The two year old daughter of Rhaemion recently began to speak her first words and has declared her favorite word to be the name of the ethereal. If this is any prediction that the girl at two has already declared her mount will not be a horse, but Starspire herself, one cannot fathom anything else. She laughed when he mentioned he will have to tell the girl when she’s older that the dragons are not to be flown in westeros and she will have to have a horse as he does. Lest the Dragon of myth and prophecy see her end by scorpion bolt.

On leaving vermillion by Rhaemion and Rhaegar’s. She makes her way by the remnants of the stone walkway closer towards the ruin. The three spent a lot of time in summerhall, her and Rhaegar spending the most.

[hellsbellschime]

Adding to your never-ending growing list of video suggestions (lol) would you ever consider doing one about the tragedy at summerhal? There's not a whole lot of info I know but there have been many theories about it. Especially about what the full letter might have said and what exactly Aegon V had planned.

That is on the list already actually! It's definitely a point of interest for me too.

[trogthefrog]

What Was Stannis' Plan for the Blackwater?

I’ve been thinking on what the point of the Battle of the Blackwater (henceforth BotB) was strategically for Stannis. And I'd argue it was to gain the Reach to his side.

I will not argue the BotB was not a huge series of fuckups on Stannis’ part. Even so there was a point. Winning that battle was possible and a reasonable goal. I think, in Stannis thinking, the problem would have been the aftermath. He'd be stuck with a wounded army, an at least partially damaged fleet and an entire city to feed. Somehow this was a desirable goal. In my opinion the victory is what makes that battle desirable because the battle wasn't just to take the capital (although that's very important) but to gain the capital to get the Reach to join him. I think the cart before the horse analogy works here.

As Rhaenyra I, Daemon Blackfyre, Robb Stark and Robert Baratheon prove, winning battles brings allies because they see your strength. The blackwater would have been Stannis' Whispering Woods or Summerhal, like how Rhaenyra capturing KL gave her legitimacy.

It's same reason as fighting the ironborn in the north gives him allies in ADWD. In westeros winning proves strength. In ACOK the Stormlords and Reacherlords he gets from Renly's death were all he was gonna get at that point. He needs more men to win the entire kingdom, and the Vale won't fight but the Reach might. With Tywin distracted by Robb Stark at Harrenhal. Stannis knows Tywin could come down from Harrenhal to defend KL and he knows that the Tyrell forces are sitting at Bitterbridge in a leadership crisis. It was is the perfect time to strike while KL was undefended and win an *almost certain* battle to prove himself. When I say almost certain remember BotB is 20,000 of Stannis' trained soldiers against mostly a few thousand gold cloaks and a small (in comparison) number of knights.

By taking KL Stannis eliminates his rival claimant (Joffrey) and proves he should be followed as a victorious king. Specifically to the Tyrells who have the sheer military numbers to win the war as well as food supplies for KL. If the Stannis won faster the battle might've solved all of the problems it would cause. Namely supplying a city and military casualties.

[dragonsfromthemoon]

Let's talk about happy things, like rhaegar ordering to rebuild summerhal, his favourite place, to give it to lyanna and jon because it was also the seat of a prince. the heir is prince of dragonstone and the second son, of summerhal. love it.

OMG I love this headcanon so much too! ♥️ Summerhall would once again be a place of happiness. I believe Jon would feel so loved, proud and grateful for inheriting such a meaningful palace as well. No less than what he deserves hahahaha. Lya would have more freedom than at Court.

[seventhwinterwolf]

with the kings in the north, like how the targaryens were prince of dragonstone / prince of summerhal, would the starks have something like that?

There's no official canon subtitle for the heirs of Winterfell in the current generation, nor has GRRM said there were any way back when.

I like the concept and the restoration of Moat Cailin could lead to the first heir being Prince/Princess of Moat Cailin, and another could be Prince/Princess of the Dreadfort - the Boltons definitely going to be depossed.

I am considering House Baratheon's doing something similar, Crown Prince Orryn will soon become engaged to Lady Margaery Tyrell. In Orryn need to prove himself and assert his capabilities, and seeing how the North has begun to restore their ruined castles and keeps, Orryn would order the repair work for Harrenhal.

King and Queen in King's Landing

Prince of Harrenhal Prince of Storm's End Prince of Highgarden

[sa7abnews]

Man's Greek restaurant in backyard honors late immigrant father: 'This is for him'

New Post has been published on https://sa7ab.info/2024/08/16/mans-greek-restaurant-in-backyard-honors-late-immigrant-father-this-is-for-him/

Man's Greek restaurant in backyard honors late immigrant father: 'This is for him'

A man is celebrating the success of his small restaurant after opening for the 10th summer in a row — in his backyard. Panikos Panayiotou, 44, is a father of three from Walsall, England, who runs and operates a Greek restaurant out of a semi-detached structure in his backyard. The sports development manager by day opened Lakis Greek Kitchen in 2014 — an idea that originated from his late father, Lakis Panayiotou.RETIRED COUPLE FROM VIRGINIA IS TRAVELING TO EVERY ONE OF THIS RESTAURANT CHAIN’S LOCATIONS IN THE USAThe elder man was in the process of building his own backyard Greek restaurant when he passed away due to small cell lung cancer in 2012, according to SWNS. Panayiotou told Fox News Digital that to honor his father and his Greek heritage, he decided he would make this happen himself. It took five months, he said via email.”I built it in memory of my father, who passed away from cancer. He tried to start it — [but he] built half a restaurant in his garden [and then] passed away before it could be finished,” he also said to SWNS. SOUTH DAKOTA BAR SNACK CHISLIC, ROOTED IN PIONEER TRADITION, ENJOYS MODERN AMERICAN MAKEOVERHe added, “My father always wanted to run a traditional Greek taverna from his home, and so it’s a way of keeping his memory alive and raising much-needed money for charity.”He told Fox News Digital that what makes the restaurant special to him is “the ability to serve people through the love of food in memory of my father and to help local people in need.”Since the start, the Panayiotous have donated nearly $70,000 to local charities.  Panayiotou keeps the restaurant — which can hold about 75 customers — open for six weeks each year. 3 GREAT AMERICAN CITIES FOR HISTORY BUFFS AND PATRIOTIC TRAVELERS THIS SUMMERHe and his wife, Michelle, volunteer their time and efforts to prepare for the crowd while a volunteer chef from a local hotel comes in to cook the food. Panayiotou also told Fox News Digital that his three children, ages 13, 12, and 8, also help out at the restaurant. “My daughter is in the kitchen. My boys run an LGK (Lakis Greek Kitchen) shop, which sells Greek oil, olives and other produce that helps with our fundraising,” he said. Additionally, his children also help with prep and serving the customers. Their signature dish is a lamb kleftiko dish. The marinated lamb and potatoes are slowly cooked for 8 to 12 hours, according to SWNS. The restaurant also serves desserts such as baklava, coconut cake and a Greek chocolate rock cake called Doukissa. Panayiotou told SWNS that the restaurant opens its reservations two months in advance and within a few hours, the tables are about 80% full. CLICK HERE TO SIGN UP FOR OUR LIFESTYLE NEWSLETTER”We try and cater for walk-ins, too [and] we can end up with people all over the back garden,” he said. Panayiotou said that luckily his neighbors don’t mind the large crowds — and that some visitors even come from the United States to visit the unique restaurant. “Our traditions are to have a relationship with your loved ones in the afterlife, so you do good deeds in memory of them,” he told SWNS. For more Lifestyle articles, visit www.foxnews/lifestyleHe added, “And this is what we do here every year. This is for him.”

[musing-and-music]

Sorry to bother you, but what is Summerhal Secrets in regards to Dunk and Daella? It sounds interesting.

It's no bother at all! Summerhall's Secrets is a fic written by BecauseBraime, where Duncan the Tall takes Barristan Selmy as his squire after he enters his first tourney as a mystery knight at 10, and this single event creates a lot of divergences in the canon from 247 to after 300.

The Dunk/Daella takes a good place in the story (there's lots of hurt/comfort with them) and impacts many people through time (especially Barristan and the Tarths)

It's a great fic, and if you like it, there's also a second part, The Crown's Secrets (with Jaime/Brienne and Barristan/Genna)

[scottsofthrapston]

Summerhouses make perfect offices. Find out more

[persephonerinyes]

Helaena spending time with Jaehaera and Maelor 🥺

“She’s perfect,” she tells him, “And she’s so sweet, so wet for you, my love. You should feel how much she wants you.” “She aches for you. Not just physically,” Alys insists, “I can feel it all, here in her head.”

Alys, how dare you tell Aemond what's going on inside our head and pussy!!!

“You have little Jaehaera-”

No sex 'til Summerhal??? Thanks, Alys.

What if Aemond gets possessed by someone? 👀

Ch. 3: Aemond Sees A Ghost

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

summary ~ Aemond tells you everything.

word count: 4.0k

warnings: NSFW/MDNI ~ dubcon (possession), kissing, grinding, spooky stuff, thunderstorms, mentions of death, themes of loss

note: I'd say we're halfway through our spooky adventure! smh I can't believe it! I hope you enjoy loves!

banner made by the fantastic @ewanmitchellcrumbs, ilysm ange!

“I want to know everything.”

The kettle whistles noisily before you remove it from the burner. Aemond sits in his usual spot clad in checkered pajama pants and a gray cotton t-shirt. You wonder how he isn’t cold, your bare arms are covered in goosebumps and you wish you’d grabbed a sweatshirt before leading him down to the kitchen. 

There’s a constant unearthly chill in this house. You set the tea in front of him, his fingers brushing against yours as you sit beside him. 

“Harrenhal,” he says softly, as a floorboard creaks overhead. You both glance up at the ceiling, watching as the chandelier trembles, the crystals reflecting the dim kitchen light. 

You’ve seen it happen before when people walk upstairs; when little Jaehaera runs down the hall, when workers are moving down the hallways. The hour is late now, the workers have gone home, and little Jaehaera is tucked safely in her bed. 

The floorboards above creak, regardless of the truth. 

“We’re not the only ones here,” you slowly begin, eyes falling back to Aemond’s face, “We’re not the only ones in Harrenhal. Are we?”

Aemond is silent for a moment.

“No,” he says softly, “We aren’t.”

Tea turns to coffee as the sky lightens. 

And Aemond tells you everything. 

“Ghosts,” you breathe, “But…that’s not possible.”

“It is,” Aemond insists, “There is something here. Some energy….the locals are right when they call this place cursed. Tragedy befalls anyone who holds it.”

Your skill prickles with goosebumps. Aemond holds it. What tragedy will befall him? You think of Alys, of the sudden death of his wife. 

Perhaps his tragedy has already unfolded. 

“It was Harren, last night,” Aemond tells you, “And his sons, I presume. The original manor was burnt to the bare bones after they created it. With him and his sons inside of it. A terrible fire.”

A chill runs through you at the memory.

“I’ve encountered them before. They’re rather harmless,” Aemond continues, “Simply walking the halls throughout the night. Others are not as pleasant, but…harmless. For the most part.” He pauses, glancing up at you.

The hair on the back of your neck stands at attention.

“What others?” you ask, though you’re unsure if you want the answer. 

“The ones I’ve encountered throughout my time here,” Aemond sighs, rubbing his eyes. The ring on his hand catches your eye; stamped with the Targaryen crest.

You’d see another just like it. Daemon’s face flashes across your mind.

“Your uncle was here,” you tell him, watching as his spine straightens, his shoulders tense, “He knows about them too I presume? He said some things---I’m sorry….it was when you were away, I nearly forgot-”

“What did he want?” Aemond interrupts, staring at you with a renewed fire in his eye.

“He just wanted to speak with you,” you tell him.

“Did he bother you? Was he inappropriate?”

“He was a bit flirtatious, that’s all,” you assure him, cheeks warming at the memory. 

Aemond bristles at that, his hand clenching into a fist. Your stomach flips with embarrassment, the burning sensation on your cheeks spreading down your neck.

“I apologize for that,” he says cooly, “He’s a vile creature.”

You place your hand on top of his fist, “It’s alright.”

Aemond’s gaze softens, and he places his opposite hand on top of yours. You lose yourself in the sensation of his hand on yours for a moment, a pleasant swooping sensation in your lower stomach. You hold his gaze, desire burning hot in your belly. It’s you who looks away first, feeling embarrassed about the intense longing you feel for your employer. You shouldn’t be thinking like this.

“Who was screaming?” you ask, bringing the conversation back to the ghosts.

You can almost hear it still, the sound of screaming echoing in your mind. You’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to forget, even when Harrenhal is simply a memory. Aemond only stares.

“I don’t know,” he says finally, “I’m not…sure.”

You don’t know which answer you’d hoped for but find that the one Aemond gives brings you no comfort. 

Jaehaera hates thunderstorms. 

This is mostly due to the fact that the nursery has a balcony with French doors overlooking the God’s Eye and backyard. When it is sunny, warm rays light the room making it appear bathed in gold. But when it rains, water is hurled violently against the glass echoing throughout the room.

The nursery also has a closet on the opposite side of the room; the doors are made of mirrors. The room was once used as a dance studio, you could tell the moment you’d stepped inside. The wood floors are scuffed from years of use. You can’t help but wonder who danced there.  

This is exactly why Jaehaera insisted on a sleepover in the main living room that night. She suggested it during dinner when thunderclouds were just starting to roll in and turn the sky an eerie gray color. 

“I like it,” Helaena spoke, surprising you, “Let’s have a proper campout.”

So you found yourselves dragging blankets and pillows down the stairs into the living room, assembling a blanket fort with Aemond’s help, and sitting inside of it. The small space was rather cramped with the three of you inside; baby Maelor was already sound asleep in his bassinet.

Helaena was quiet the majority of the time, besides when she was quietly humming to herself. She seemed happy though from what you could tell. As happy as Helaena could be. She always had an air of melancholia around her. 

“I have a story,” Helaena says. 

It is the first time she’s spoken that evening. Jaehaera stands behind Aemond braiding his hair as she often does. She glances at her mother, giving her a toothy grin. 

“A long time ago,” Helaena begins, her eyes looking somewhere far off, “There was a girl dressed in green locked away in a castle.”

“I like castles,” Jaehaera comments, continuing to braid Aemond’s hair.

“She was young and beautiful, and very, very sad,” Helaena continued, “She wed the king, and became a queen. It was everything a girl should want. But she didn’t want it at all.”

You watch Helaena as she taps her nails against the cup of tea she holds. They’re painted silver; Jaehaera’s doing. The paint is chipped around her thumbs already. A nervous habit you’d noticed. 

“Why not?” Jaehaera asks, her nose scrunched as she pouts, “I’d like to be a queen.”

“She was in love with the princess, you see, and never wanted the old king. But he took her anyway because that is what men in power do. They take pretty little girls and keep them locked away.”

“Did she have children?” Jaehaera asks.

“She did. Many. She loved them all dearly. Beautiful children they were, and they were all taken from her. She outlived them all,” Helaena continues, “Mad with grief, the queen locked herself away this time.”

Helaena sips from her cup, a smile twitching on her lips.

“I never understood Daisy before having a child,” she muses, switching away from her story, “Before having a girl. I hope she’ll be a fool.”

A shiver rolls down your spine as Helaena locks eyes with you.

“That’s the best thing a girl can be in this world. A beautiful little fool,” she says softly, eyes flickering toward her brother, “Mũna said the same thing once, didn’t she Aem?”

Aemond holds his sister’s gaze, “I don’t remember.”

“I’m sure of it,” she says, mouth stretching open into a yawn, “You’d read aloud and Mũna would stroke your hair. You always liked that book.”

“I like a lot of books,” Aemond says, the top of his cheeks turning pink as he reaches behind him and lifts a giggling Jaehaera into the air as he stands, “It’s late, zaldrīzītsos. Time for bed.”

“I’m not tired,” Jaehaera insists, though she echoes her mother’s yawn.  

You all exit the fort, Helaena retiring to the couch. She lays on her back, stretching like a cat. 

“Mhmm,” Aemond says, depositing her into Helaena’s arms on the couch.

He tucks them both in, turning the remainder of the lights off before joining you on the makeshift mattresses on the floor. You can only see the outline of him in the darkness; the curve of his nose, the twinkling of his eye. 

“Is Helaena alright?” you whisper, and he presses a finger to your lips.

“Yes,” he breathes, thumb tracing your lower lip, “Thank you, for doing this.”

“Of course,” you whisper, barely breathing as his finger traces down your chin, “Are you tired?”

“No,” he says softly, his hand sliding down the curve of your neck, “I’m a bit of an insomniac.”

Your breathing becomes labored as his thumb strokes your collarbone. You wish you’d worn something else, not the ratty old band t-shirt you’d chosen paired with some sleep shorts.

“Oh,” you say, unsure of how else to answer him. 

Your thoughts scramble when he touches you, as though his touch short circuits the wiring in your brain. He says your name then, so softly you almost miss it. He’s close enough to kiss, all you need to do is lean forward and his nose will bump against your own.

His hand falls from you. Eyes adjusted to the dark, you watch as his tongue darts out wetting his lower lip. 

“Aemond,” you say softly, and he reaches for you again, this time lacing his fingers through yours, “Will we be alright down here?”

His eye flickers around your face, his fingers tightening in your grip.

“I won’t let anything happen,” he assures, “To any of us.”

You choose to believe him. He sounds so certain, he truly believes it. There’s not a doubt in your mind that he wouldn’t do everything in his power to protect Helaena. Jaehaera. Maelor.

You.

You rub your thumb against the smooth skin of the back of his hand and soon your eyes grow heavy as sleep overtakes you. 

You wake in the middle of the night, closer to morning than to midnight. The sky is still black as ink, the sounds of rain splattering against the many windows. There is no room for stars, the entire night sky is blacked out by rain clouds. 

Jaehara snores contentedly next to you, wrapped up in her mother’s embrace. Helaena’s sleeping form curls into her daughter, holding her in a cocoon of warmth. Mother and daughter look incredibly alike; both share the same nose and soft pout, their fair brows relaxed in sleep. The bassinet next to them holds a sleeping Maelor, his tiny nose scrunched as he dreams. 

You sit up from your spot on the floor, looking around the dark room. It’s hard to see anything before the room is illuminated by a flash of lightning. Aemond is no longer beside you. The room descends into darkness once more, and goosebumps rise on your arms as a chill enters the room. Helaena stirs in her sleep, pulling Jaehaera closer. A mother’s unconscious need to keep her daughter close.

Lightning flashes and the room is lit once more, a shadow dancing near the stairs. 

“Aemond?” you half whisper, as thunder booms through the sky.

The thunder is not as loud as it was earlier that night; the storm must be moving out. You rise from the floor, letting the blankets fall to a pile at your feet. It’s cold, much colder now that you’re in your sleep shorts and T-shirt. You move toward the staircase, around the corner, and down toward the kitchen. Perhaps he’s making tea.

When you enter the kitchen, it’s empty. No kettle whistling, no lamp, and no Aemond. A noise behind you causes you to turn.

There’s that shadow again.

“Aemond?” you call, louder this time. A small smile appears on your face.

Could he be playing a trick on you? Nervousness stirs in your belly, and you decide to follow, exiting the kitchen. You walk up the stairs, watching as the shadow dips down the left hallway, towards his study. 

Warmth floods through you, desire lodging in your stomach. It spreads through your limbs thick like honey, like you’re floating down the hall instead of walking. Your head buzzes, thoughts fuzzy as you reach for the handle of the door, opening it. 

Aemond looks up from his papers, a surprised look on his face as you close the door, pressing your back up against it. You’ve never been here before. The room is cozy. Warm. How can it be so warm when the rest of the house is so cold?

“You were gone,” you tell him, though it's phrased more like a question.

“I told you, I’m an insomniac,” he says, the corner of his lips quirking into a smile, “Did you miss me?”

“I always miss you when you’re away,” you tell him, surprised at the words that leave your mouth, the raw honesty behind them.

Aemond’s lips part, and his lashes flutter at your confession. You walk deeper into the room, letting your hand trail across the spine of the many books that decorate his shelves. 

“You’re always away,” you tell him, tingling with anticipation, “I never see you anymore.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, as you turn to face him.

“This room,” you muse, “It’s like the heart of the house. Warm…tucked away.”

His cheeks are flushed, eyes focused on your face rather than the generous amount of thigh you’re showing. You glance down at your chest, watching your breasts rise and fall as you breathe then bring your eyes back to him. 

You walk towards him, still tracing the spines of the books that line his shelves. Your hand drops as you round the corner of his desk. Aemond has pushed himself from behind his desk, still seated in the large leather chair, his legs spread wide. His lips are parted, watching you in awe. 

“I just want you close,” you admit, stepping forward between his legs.

Aemond tenses as you place your knees on either side of his waist and straddle his lap. He groans as you sit, resting your weight against him.

“Y/N….” Aemond says, holding his hands up in surrender; he won’t meet your eyes.

You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, lacing your fingers together. 

“Don’t you want me?” you whisper, tendrils of your hair tickling his sharp cheekbones. 

Aemond looks up then, eyes meeting yours and you watch his resolve crumble. He lowers his hands to your waist, before letting them rest at the junction of your hip and thighs. The air between you is heavy, your ears are ringing as you connect his mouth to yours. 

Fire burns brightly in your chest, warming your whole body as he kisses you. He tastes just like you’d dreamed he would; spearmint and tea, and something else that is entirely him. Rolling your hips against him you grind against the hardness forming between his legs. Gods he feels big.

You moan into his mouth, your mind happily buzzing as he squeezes the swell of your ass. His kiss is like a drug, like pure heaven racing through your veins. Your limbs are heavy, thoughts scattered and hazy. 

That’s it. “Fuck me,” you whisper, nails digging into his scalp, nipping at his lower lip before sucking it between your own. 

It’s bold, it’s lewd.

It’s not you.

Aemond groans, lifting you from his lap as he stands, and places you on his desk. You continue to kiss him, to tear at his button-down like a marionette on a string. Something is wrong. Nothing is wrong, just like that.

“Gods, you’re incredible,” he breathes, and you want to scream, to tell him to wait, not like this.

Not when it's not you. Not when your body is here, but your mind is not. It feels good though, yes? The puppetmaster continues plucking your strings, making you smile coyly at him.

“My Aemond,” you whisper, hands dipping below the waistline of his pants. 

Aemond freezes, pulling back from you. You tilt your head to the side as he cups your cheeks, looking deeply into your eyes. His eyes are searching, no longer clouded with lust. Your nails scrape against the smooth flesh of his lower abdomen, legs still locked behind his waist. 

“Why’d you stop?” your lips form the words, but it’s not you. 

Aemond’s face hardens, and he wets his lips as he releases your face. He brings his hands to your calves, unlocking them from around his waist. Gently, he places his hands on your wrists, removing them from his pants. 

“Alys, we’ve talked about this,” he says softly, taking a step back.

Suddenly, the feelings of sleep are greater, and your eyelids are heavy yet they remain open. You’re aware you’re still talking, still moving, but someone else is controlling it. It’s as though you’re hearing the conversation from a different room like you’ve stepped out of yourself for a moment. 

Alys. Shhhh. Alys Rivers. It’s alright. Aemond’s….Aemond’s Alys.

“But she’s perfect, Aemond,” your voice says, “And you like her, I know you do. I see the way you look at her. Touch her.”

“Let her go,” he says, voice almost a whisper, “Alys….please.”

She reaches for him, using your arms. It’s like you’re moving through molasses, though you can sense her desperation, her need for him. 

“We can have a baby now,” she insists, your voice breaking as she speaks, “One of our very own.”

“You have little Jaehaera-”

“I want my own, Aemond, you promised me!”

“That was before, Alys. Now you’re…” he lets the sentence trail off, “Things are different now.”

She brings your hand to cup your breast, and you watch Aemond’s eye flicker toward the movement.

“She’s perfect,” she tells him, “And she’s so sweet, so wet for you, my love. You should feel how much she wants you.”

“Stop,” Aemond says, clenching his hands into fists.

“She aches for you. Not just physically,” Alys insists, “I can feel it all, here in her head.”

“I said enough!” Aemond yells, followed by a clap of thunder. 

Alys doesn’t flinch, you can feel her unyielding strength inside of you. She tilts your chin higher, hand dropping from your breast. 

“She’s different than the other one,” Alys insists, “You didn’t even like that girl-”

“You’d no right to do that to Floris,” Aemond says, running a hand through his hair, “She was a sweet girl--”

“Sweet,” Alys scoffs, “Weak. You’ve gone soft, haven’t you?” She cocks your head to the side. “Do you not love me anymore?” she asks, her voice cold as ice.

“You know that isn’t true--”

“I don’t mind sharing--”

“You’re dead, Alys.”

She’s silent then, and your chest tightens with the agony she feels at his words. Aemond’s gaze is pained, his seeing-eye glassy with tears. 

“Release her-”

“I miss you,” she says, reaching for him, “That’s all. Is that so hard to believe?” She chuckles bitterly. “I just want our baby.”

“It’s not how it is supposed to be, Alys,” he says, taking the hand she offers, “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re always sorry,” she says, her voice trembling, “Just give me what I want.”

“I can’t do that,” Aemond says, “Let her go.”

Alys holds his hand a moment more. You feel a tear roll down your cheek leaving a hot stream behind. Then your limbs go rigid before all the tension in your body releases. Your head drops forward, limbs sagging into Aemond’s arms.

“It’s alright,” he says, lifting you into his arms bridal style, “I’ve got you.”

The feeling of sleep is different now; you’re groggy as though you’d just woken from a nap. Leaning into his chest, you press your face against his shoulder. Spearmint, aftershave, and tea. He smells so good. Your eyelids are heavy as he walks down the hallway. You can’t hear the rain anymore. Has it stopped?

“Aem-”

“Shh don’t speak,” he says, placing you in bed. 

You’re in your room. Here already? That was fast.

“What happened?” you ask, throat raw, mouth dry.

“It’s alright,” he tells you, laying his hand against your forehead. 

You welcome the heat. You’re so cold.

“The heart….” you murmur.

“What?”

“The heart of the house,” you mumble, “It’s cold…”

Aemond pulls your blankets around you, tucking you in tightly sitting beside you on the bed. 

“What was that?” you ask, as Aemond’s hand strokes your cheek.

“It was just Alys,” he assures you.

You sit up then, the sleepiness leaving your body rather quickly as though someone had poured ice water down your back. The sheets fall around your waist and Aemond sighs disapprovingly as your eyebrows knit together. His hand falls from your cheek, resting on your bent leg. 

“Alys,” you repeat, “Your wife.”

“Yes.”

“She made me….” your cheeks warm, “Did…did we…?”

“No,” Aemond assures, shaking his head, “No we only kissed.”

You can feel him still, the ache returning between your thighs. His violet eye watches you closely as does the sightless milky one. He’s reading every microexpression on your face like the pages of a book. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Whatever are you sorry for, dōna hāedar?” he says, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“That we…that when we kissed…” you murmur, looking down, cheeks blazing with embarrassment, “That it….that it wasn’t me.”

Aemond rubs circles on your knee, watching the movement. The room is silent for a moment apart from your steady breathing. There is an ache between your eyes, deep in your skull that you’ll no doubt need to sleep off. 

“We should rectify that,” Aemond says softly, “If you’d like.”

Your lips part as you meet his eyes again. He’s watching you so carefully, as though you may run from the grounds at any moment never to be seen again. 

But you’d made your choice. And you intended to stick to it.

“Yes,” you breathe, leaning forward, “I’d like to.”

“Then it’s settled,” he murmurs, leaning forward. Your eyes flutter shut as his nose bumps against yours causing you to gasp softly, lips parting even more, “It’s only right.”

You can feel his lips against yours as he speaks; just brushing slightly.

“I agree,” you say breathlessly, and he closes the gap, pressing his lips firmly against yours, his hand cupping the back of your neck. 

Your hand fists his shirt as you kiss him, his mouth hot and greedy against yours. His lips, his perfect lips fit against yours so perfectly, and he turns his head slipping his tongue into your waiting mouth. 

Gods you want him. You want him so badly you’re trembling with need. Aemond leans forward then, pressing you back against the bed, kissing you all the while. Your hands claw at him until his hands lace through yours, pressing them back against the mattress. He murmurs your name, lips trailing down the side of your throat. Yes, yes, yes. 

“Aemond!” you gasp, pushing at him suddenly. 

He tears his lips from yours, standing immediately as you gasp for breath. The pair of you stare at each other wide-eyed, trying to catch your bearings. 

“She’s here,” Aemond says, voice hoarse.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, “It felt like she may…come back.”

“Fuck,” Aemond growls, “Fuck!”

You wet your lips, wanting nothing more than to hold him. Aemond leans against the bedpost, lost in thought.

“We have to be careful,” he says, “On the grounds. She’ll try…she doesn’t know what she’s doing.” You can hear the love he holds for her in his voice, even now. “She just wanted a baby.”

“It’s alright,” you tell him, “We’ll be careful. We won’t….” your sentence trails off. 

“Yes,” Aemond agrees, “Not long now. The house will go quickly once it’s on the market. Summerhal house is waiting for us.”

You force a small smile.

“No ghosts?” you ask. 

Aemond’s returning smile mirrors your own.

“No promises,” he says softly, “Get some sleep.”

“What about Helaena? And the children…”

“I’ll go to them,” he says, walking forward, placing a kiss on your forehead, “You rest.”

“Goodnight Aemond,” you call as he exits your room.

“Goodnight,” he says softly, the door clicking shut behind him.

You lay on the bed, your body trembling. The rain begins once more, the sound of thunder returning. It may be the rain, you’re not sure, but as you drift off to sleep you swear you hear the soft sounds of a woman crying somewhere in Harrenhal.

note: hope you enjoyed this chapter! as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected (though you will receive a forehead kiss from me if you do any of them).

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[thefourdiamonds-fantrolls]

*gives cupcakes to all od them*

Eat

<> they're all enjoying them in their own ways <>

<> I think they deserve those as a little break from packing their bags for their little summerhive outing <>

<> Brenya's catching their evening z's cuz they're the driver and needs the energy :') <>

[conceptzine]

새소리도 나무향도💚

날씨가 더워지면서 산에 올라가는 시간이 빨라 지고 있지만 올라가면 너무 잘 올라왔다는 생각이 매번 든다.

일주일에 한번이지만 더 가고 싶다.