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andromedas-wrath · 6 months ago

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Hi! I saw your post and what you do/don't write and was wondering if you could write anything regarding male hotd characters x Tulley/Riverlands reader? Preferably Tully, they're my favourite house. I don't mind gen neutral but I am fem, either way is okay :)

Hi!! This is my first request (which I’m so happy about, so thank you!! I hope you enjoy! (Edit- yall this took me 3 hours omg.)

family, duty, honor- J. Velaryon

Word count- 2759 words

Summary: Jacaerys travels the river-lands, reaching Riverrun to get House Tully to declare for the blacks. They seem unwilling- until Lord Tully strikes a deal.

WARNINGS: slightly uncanon events, arranged marriage, 18+, speaking of war+violence, medieval customs, romance, p in v, vulgar language, unprotected, but lovey dovey!

Jacaerys and his men had taken most of the Riverlands for the blacks- securing what seemed to be almost a victory- by blocking out the greens from the majority of the wetlands- it gave them a large upper hand in what battles were going to be.

They took refuge inside the castle of Riverrun, where the Tully’s resided. The large dining hall held many of his men. He stood before the men of house Tully, lord Grover, Oscar, and Kermit Tully all sat in their seats, advisors beside them.

Lord Grover sat on his throne, head propped against his fist, as he spoke, “What brings you to Riverrun, boy?”

Jacaerys remained diplomatic and cool, as he stood straight and replied

“My lord, I come on behalf of my mother, Rhaenyra Targaryen. If you vouch for her claim to the throne, you will earn protection, and be heavily rewarded.”

Whispers spread throughout the court, servants stopping to listen as Jacaerys never slightly turned his gaze from the lords.

Lord Tully licked his lips softly, sitting up straight on his throne.

“You mean to persuade my house, for gold dragons, for protection from whom?”, lord Tully hardened his gaze.

“With your support, my lord, you will have the protection of the men of the north, my men. Alongside that, my mother would gift your people a dragon.”

Lord Tully laughed, leaning back into his seat, a leg thrown over his relaxed one. “Hah! You mean to give me a hatchling, like you did to Lady Arryn?”

Jace’s gaze hardened, yet he remained calm. “No hatching my lord, Vermithor, a fine and aged dragon.”

The lord scoffed, “You dare try throwing a dragon- with no rider into this. You dare embarrass my house- with greybeards and unwanted dragons?”

Jacaerys smiled, slightly angered by the man’s insolence, before replying, “For now he lacks a rider yes, but I assure you, once we find a rider worthy of him, he will be a ruthless one- one who can fight for our claim.”

Lord Tully slammed his cane onto the ground, his grandsons watching him as he leaned onto it, meeting Jacaerys eyes with a dark scowl. “House Tully, will not have such idiocy thrown in our quarters.”

Jace’s jaw tensed, breathing out as he met the lord's eyes. “I mean no harm- lord Tully, I am willing to strike a deal to have your house’s power and land, to fight against the greens.”

Lord Tully’s advisor whispered into his ear, as his face somewhat brightened, as he leaned into his chair, a delighted look on his face, as he spoke, “Prince Jacaerys, it’s come to my attention that you are not betrothed.”

Jace’s gaze hardened, somewhat from surprise and oddity of the question. “I am not.”

Lord Tully turned to his grandson, Oscar. “Go fetch your sister, lad.”

Oscar looked between him and the prince, sensing a rise of tension, as he scurried off, footsteps heard against the cobblestone floors. Jace cocked his head, questioning.

“And just what do you mean- by asking me of my marital status?”

Before lord Tully could answer, Oscar walked back in, a girl trailing behind him, as the court went quiet. She was clad in her house colors, a dark navy dress, her hair done intricately into braids. She curtsied before her brothers, moving beside her grandsire as she sat in her throne next to him, as Jacaerys and her met eyes.

He took in almost every detail he could, her soft features, the way she held herself- it made him swallow hard, before he turned his gaze back to her grandfather.

Lord Tully smiled, a hand motioning to her. “This, is my granddaughter, Y/n. My third-in-line heir of House Tully. She sits here today, a maiden, unbetrothed.”

Jace’s gaze turned from confused, to almost knowing, as he looked between the lords. He held his tongue, as he kept a careful expression.

Lord Tully smiled, “We will take on your- proposition, your gold dragons, grey beards, dragon- if, you take my granddaughter's hand.”

The hall erupted into gasps- whispers- all sorts of muffled noises, as he saw her eyes widen, her gaze falling to her lap. His heart beat in his chest, as shock struck him. He spoke diplomatically, yet fueled with emotion. “Is this some type of joke, Tully? You think that marriage is what it takes- for our support? You mean to throw your granddaughter at me and expect me to agree?”

Lord tullys expression changed, his smile dropping, as his voice dripped venom. “Then Riverrun will have to turn green.”

Jacaerys' face paled as Lord Tully made his threat. His heart began to beat faster and a cold feeling crept through his veins. He didn't want to make more enemies, and the idea of House Tully siding with the Greens was terrifying. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, the girl's face was expressionless, but her eyes gleamed with something he couldn't quite place. He looked back to the lord, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Lord Tully sat up, “So now my prince, I must request- take my granddaughter's hand- or leave.”

Jacaerys' mind was a storm of thoughts, his heart and mind battling each other. He couldn't take his eyes off her, his emotions in turmoil. They needed the Tully’s, for they could not win this war without their support. He hesitated, his breath hitching for a moment, before he replied

"I'll take her hand."

Her and her brother’s eyes met, as her mouth gaped slightly open, gasps and whispers spreading through the castle, before lord Tully let out an amused laugh, standing on his cane, pulling her into a side hug. “What a glorious day for Tully history!”

The room erupted into cheers, as Jacaerys gaze locked onto her form, as she squeezed out of her grandfather's grasp, running up the stairs and away from the attention. Jace felt his body move after her, as he followed her down the torch-lit halls.

He found her, standing as she looked out the window, watching the rain. He approached her side, as she turned to meet his gaze. He finally managed to break the silence.

“I wanted to speak to you.”

She nodded softly, turning back to the window. “I assume, this isn’t of your heart’s desire.”

He looked out the window, thinking of how to reply. “It’s- not what I imagined when I thought of taking Riverrun,” he paused “It’s unexpected, is all.” He met her gaze once again, as her face was lit by the torches.

Her gaze hardened slightly. “I never expected, to be auctioned off as such. I, am a lady, I have always been told “Family, duty, honor”, for it is what drives house Tully, my prince.”, she met his gaze, turning to him. “If that means that- I must marry you, then I grant myself to you.”

He met her gaze, taking her hand, his larger hand holding her hand to his lips, as he placed a whisper of a kiss over her knuckles. “If it helps, I never imagined this either.”, he fiddled with her hand. “But I am not against having your hand, my lady.”

Her face slightly softened, a soft flush covering the tip of her nose and the apples of her cheeks. “I never imagined you to be such a gentleman.”

He slightly grinned, cocking an eyebrow, as he spoke lowly, “Do I seem so cocky, my lady? How you ail me.”, he teased.

She smiled, and he swore his heart increased double, if not triple. He took in her soft expression, and for a moment, he didn’t feel so guilty about being okay with having her all to himself. She caught his gaze, as they both were lost to eachothers intense analysis.

He felt a wave of confidence, as tucked her stray hairs away from her face, whispering, “I never knew tullys for their beauty, until you, my lady.”

She shivered beneath him, her eyes fluttering, as she whispered. “I wish you to call me by my name, as I should call you yours.”

His breath caught, as he softly smiled. “Y/n. A pretty name, fit enough for your beauty.”, he rested his hand on her face.

She met his eyes, as a soft recognition of want- desire was felt between them. He slowly moved towards her, limits of inches between them, as they could almost hear eachothers hearts beneath their own touch.

She moved her own hands to his face, pushing soft curls away from his face, as she whispered, “Is it wrong for me, to desire your lips upon mine?”

He froze for a second, looking between her eyes, taking a shaky breath as he took her all in. He finally spoke,

“No.” His thumb caressed her cheek. “It’s not wrong, for I long for you too.”

She met his gaze with a small smile. “Then, if I’ve heard right, Velaryon men are men of action.”

His gaze darkened, as he closed the further distance, pulling her close to him, as he leaned down, whispering to her lips, “You’ve heard correctly my lady, for we also have little patience.”

He pressed his lips into her plush ones, as he felt a spark between them, as if all breath was lost to her. He placed a hand behind her head, not prince-like of him no, but all he felt was a pure, pure desire for her, and he didn’t care who they were. She whimpered into him, as a hand grasped his cloak, pulling him impossibly closer.

He felt as if he was swimming in the depths of a dream, her noise urging him further, as his hands explored her soft body, clutching her dress in his hands, finding anything to pull her closer.

She pulled away for air, gasping as she met his eyes, her once bright eyes, darkened with desire. She spook, breathless.

“My room- a stride away.”, she whispered out.

His gaze darkened, his heart beating in his throat. Images of them- in her room flashed through his mind, as he nodded, speaking lowly.

“Lead me, pretty one.”

As she closed the door to her quarters, he was on her in a second, pinning her against the large wooden doors as their lips met in a heated dance. He tangled his fingers in her hair, as he angled her neck open, for his mouth to mark her. She whimpered as he sucked, leaving marks all over. He groaned out, moaning against her.

“You’re mine for the taking.”

She pulled his head away slightly, panting as she whimpered out, “the bed, please Jacaerys.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, as he carried her to her large canopy bed, laying her down on the soft covers, climbing above her and pinning her down, holding her close, as his eyes studied her.

“Gods- I have never seen such a sight as you.”

She sat up, holding his face, speaking softly, “Remove my dress.”

He felt a jolt of heat and desire run through him at her request and didn’t need to be told twice. He helped her sit up, his hands going to the laces that held her dress on her body. Slowly and gently, he untied the laces, revealing more and more of her skin to him. He took his time, his eyes roaming over the newly exposed flesh, his fingers brushing against her skin in the process. Her dress fell off the bed, as she laid amongst the sheets, her nude body shown to him.

He shuddered out a groan, as he simply stared. He was new to all of this- contrary to many thoughts of him. He was a soldier, a dragon rider, yes- but he was not familiar with a gift from Aphrodite- such as her. The mere sight of her sent blood straight to his hardening cock.

He quickly removed his garments, as he climbed on top of her, caging her, his muscular body holding her carefully, as he pressed a scorching kiss to her lips, his hands wandering over her body.

His touch was nervous- gentle, but filled with the need to memorize your curves, everything.

She spoke up, differed from her soft moans, “Gods- I need you Jacaerys- I can’t take this.”

His heart skipped a beat at her words. The urgency in her voice, the need and the desire in her eyes - it was almost too much for him to bear. His own lust and need for her were almost overwhelming, and he knew he couldn’t keep her waiting any longer.

“I’m here.”

He reached a nervous hand down to her heat, watching her reaction, as she swiped a digit through her wetness, as she whimpered. He groaned alongside her, teasing her by accident, before she grasped his hand, and lead a finger into her softly. He groaned, feeling how she took him in, held him so close. He slowly moved his finger, thriving off her noises, as he slowly humped her leg. He huskily spoke, groaning.

“Gods- you hug me so good- can’t imagine how it will really feel.”

She moaned from his talk, shivering. She uttered out a response. “If you keep speaking like that- I won’t be able to keep you away for much longer-“

His cock jumped, as he groaned. From that, he stopped his movements, turning her head towards him. “Do you want me, pretty thing? Want to feel me?”

She moaned in response, meeting his eyes with frequent nodding, and pleading. “Gods yes- just take me now-“

And with that, he pulled his hand away, earning a whimper from which he smiled, he pushed her legs apart, settling between her. He noticed her nervous expression, as he kissed her lips slowly and softly, pulling away to meet her eyes. “Do you want this?”, he spoke softly

She nodded softly, biting her lip. “Im a maiden, Jacaerys.”

He smiled softly, holding her hand. “I’ve never done this either- I want to learn with you.”

She nodded, as he looked down, positioning himself, as he slowly inched in, groaning as she took him in. They both moaned together, trembling.

“Gods you’re- amazing. Never thought it would be this good.”

she whimpered, holding his hand tight. He noticed her tense, as he stopped, meeting her eyes, “are you alright? I can stop-“

“No- no please don’t-“, she uttered out. “You feel- you’re huge, Jacaerys.”

He shuddered, moaning from her praise, as he started to move. “Keep talking like that and I won’t last long-“

They moaned in unison as his movements progressed in speed and depth, his hands trembling as he held her hips, slapping noises echoing across her chambers.

He met her eyes- and that’s where he almost came down. She looked angelic, her eyes stuck on him, her face twisted in pleasure, as her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs pinned behind his back. He pressed his lips to hers in an instant, quickening his pace. She moaned into him, speaking, whilst meeting his eyes.

“Feels so good- gods- I’ll give you an heir, anything you want-!”

And that's where he felt like he almost died. Giving her an heir- fueled him faster, making him groan, his hips snapping into hers as he sucked hard on her neck, popping off as he whispered.

“Fuck- I’ll give you as many as you want- gonna make sure it sticks-“

Their moans pitched higher, as he started to whimper, his head falling into her chest. “I can’t last much longer- you’re too tight-“

“Come down with me- please-“

His movements turned sloppy, as he quickly pressed his lips to hers, his hips stilling, as they moaned into each other's mouths, his seed filling her.

He pulled away, kissing her cheeks, as he pulled out slowly, both groaning from the loss of contact, as he slumped beside her, pulling her into his chest.

She rested her head on his chest, looking into his eyes, with a breathless smile, which he met with a bashful smile.

She smiled, fluttering her eyes shut, speaking, “Quite improper for a prince, bedding his wife before they are married.”, she teased.

He flushed softly, pulling her closer. “You’re saying you didn’t like it?”She laughed softly, shaking her head.

“I’ve never felt more loved, Jacaerys.”, she met his eyes.

They both melted into each other, naked bodies embraced under the might of the gods, old and new.

Houses intertwined for family, duty, honor, and more importantly, love.

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys velaryon #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x you #jacaerys strong #jacaerys smut #jacaerys valaryon x reader #hotd #x reader #fanfic #game of thrones

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yanderes-galore · 9 months ago

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9.) "The wound in your leg serves as a lesson, does it not?"

romantic Jace

34.) "No one else understands me except you!"

Platonic Luke

Reader had known the boys for her whole life. Reader kinda acts like a boy. She has shorter hair maybe shoulder length? And Jace when they were children would claim they were already married and she was like “um nah” and now that they are older Jace is demanding her to marry him saying “you can’t disobey me, I am your future king and you will be my queen” so reader decides to run away but like catches her and says something like “your the only person who understands how I feel” then drags her back while apologizing and tells Jace what happened. So Jace does something to her legs to make her un able to walk and run away.

Sure! I just hope I get characterization right :') This primarily focuses on Jace if that's okay.

Yandere! Romantic Jacaerys + Platonic! Lucerys Prompts 9 + 24

"The wound in your leg serves as a lesson, does it not?" - Jace

"No one else understands me except you!" - Luke

Pairing: Romantic (Jace)/Platonic (Luke)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, The two manipulate each other, Delusional behavior, Violence, Possessive behavior, Forced betrothal, Medieval sexism/gender roles, Mature themes, Manipulation, OOC Jace, Cutting of Achilles Tendon, Forced relationship/companionship.

When you had met the two princes, you were a young princess yourself. However you were not like most princesses, choosing to sneak around and act like a boy instead. Such a thing wasn't common in the period... but your parents could never seem to stop you.

You used to play with them all the time as children despite the rumors that surrounded their birth. You were about the same age as Jace and Rhaenyra was pleased your parents allowed you to play with them. It was nice to not be judged for once... in return, Rhaenyra never minded your more boyish behavior.

Since you three were young, Jace had been attached to you. His brother, Luke, had seen you as an older sibling or friend. Jace, however, saw you as his future queen as the years went by.

Jace was told he was to sit upon the Iron Throne, while later on Luke was to sit himself on the throne of Driftmark. Neither of them were betrothed, Rhaenyra was still figuring such a thing out. You weren't betrothed either...

Making Jace's heart set on the idea.

"You and I are destined to rule!" Jace would always say to you, a smile on his face as he held your hands. "You have no betrothed, right? We'd be the perfect king and queen...."

Luke had always been one to support his brother. While Jace would ramble on and on about weddings and being the perfect prince for you... Luke would encourage it. You, on the other hand?

You didn't like to think of marriage.

While Jace was always excited about becoming king, ever since you were all young you resented your role of princess. You didn't like being wed off, you didn't like bearing heirs... you wished for a different life. Another role that wasn't playing princess.

Wanting to change roles was a sentiment you shared with Luke. The younger prince also didn't like the idea of ruling Driftmark. This was something that made you see Luke as a brother of your own... you were so similar... even if he kept encouraging his brother.

He encouraged Jace not only because it made the older prince happy... but it also brings you closer to Luke.

While you tried to distance yourself from the idea, Jace was hooked on the idea of courting you. To the point he even brought it up to his mother when he was younger. Rhaenyra was hesitant... but Jace looked so set on marrying you ever since you two were kids.

Such behavior only persisted as you three got older. You had tried to grow into your role, listening to your parents and wearing dresses. However, you never wanted anything big... you'd wear a dress you could move freely in.

Despite trying to look the part, you were still against marriage. You often told your parents about this... but of course they didn't understand. After all, royal families are often concerned with the succession of their bloodline.

You were still close allies with Jace and Luke. You often visited them but... you noticed Jace wasn't as intent on being flirty. He gave you a few thoughtful looks and grins, but now outright courting. Such a thought confused you... after all these years he's given up such fantasies?

It was a welcome change for you...

Until your parents announced that they had spoken to Queen Rhaenyra of Dragonstone... and betrothed you to Prince Jacaerys.

The news devastates you. Sure, Jace and you are childhood friends... but you didn't want to marry him. However... the news certainly explained why he had such a knowing gaze towards you. You're sent into shock and worry about the future.

But eventually... you end up meeting with Prince Jacaerys another day to discuss future relations... much to your dismay.

-🛡-

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this..." Jace whispers, holding your hand softly before kissing the knuckles. "You've managed to get even more beautiful, princess."

You sit with him and Luke in a room as your parents discuss with one another. Jace wears a smiles on his face as he gaze at you. You're his queen... you have been since he met you... he just knows it.

You look away with a frown, pulling your hand away. Jace seems surprised by your reaction and steps closer. Luke notices your hesitancy and pities it... he knows you don't really want this role... but you make his brother happy.

"Princess?" Jace whispers, stepping closer to hold your waist. "Are you nervous...? You know I would do everything in my power to treat you right as king... you're my future queen, after all."

"Jace..." You answer, a sad look in your eye. " You've been at this for years... don't you know I don't like the idea?"

Jace looks at you with a frown, pulling you close despite your squirming. Luke feels torn when he sees your sadness. He cares about both of you... but there was no way to win you both over, was there?

"Are you scared of when we consummate our marriage?" He whispers, making you freeze for a moment. "Or that others will judge us? There's no need... I won't let you be scared." You feel him kiss your cheek... and you push him away.

"I-I'm sorry... I just need to leave for a moment." You admit, stepping back. You go to leave the room, but Jace grips onto your hand.

"My lady..." Jace calls, tone oddly seeming to hide a warning. "Please don't leave... we can make this work!"

"Let go...." You whimper, Jace stepping closer to you as Luke goes to stand up.

"You aren't disobeying your future king, are you?" Jace whispers in your ear. "For my whole life I've wanted you as my queen... mother has given me such a chance. Why do you resist?"

The moment you hear a growl in his tone, you break away from his grasp and exit the room quickly. Jace calls your name but you don't listen as you rush down the halls. You weren't sure where you were running to, you just knew you needed to leave Jace.

Eventually you come across the gardens and find somewhere to sit. Your heart pounds in your chest at the thought of marrying Jace... not in the good way, unfortunately. You're scared of such an event.

You're so lost in the fear that you don't notice the young prince Luke approaching you.

"Princess...?" Luke asks hesitantly, the young boy sitting beside you. "Are you alright?"

"No..." You whisper, the small sound making the prince's heart ache a little. "I never wanted this... I don't want to be a queen...."

Luke frowns, remembering that you both hate the roles your parents gifted you. He didn't want to rule Driftmark. While he has pity for your predicament...

He too wants to keep you close, just like his brother.

"I know..." Luke sighs, eyes looking at you with sympathy. "No one else understands me except you... we're already like siblings..."

You smile softly at the young prince... but notice the darkness in his gaze.

"Which is why I can't wait for you to be my sister-in-law..." Luke smiles, your heart dropping at his words.

"My Lady!" Jace calls, anger in his voice. You freeze, wanting to run, but Luke grabs your arm tightly. You begin to realize Luke betrayed you for his brother...

Allowing Jace to pull you into his grasp tightly. Dragon blood does indeed run deep in the two princes despite their parentage... why else would they be so possessive of you?

"Queens shouldn't run from their kings..." Jace growls softly, nails digging into your skin. Luke begins to reconsider his decisions when he sees Jace slowly reach for his dagger. "Good kings need to teach their wives to listen, don't they?"

You feel yourself gently pushed onto the ground as Jace sits on your legs. You struggle but Jace orders Luke to hold you still. Jace, your king, holds a sadistic darkness in his eyes as he holds your legs.

"I'll make sure you never run from me again..." Jace whispers, kissing your forehead softly. You feel a sharp blade by your heel and try to move... only to be restrained.

"A wound on your leg serves as a lesson, does it not?" Jace grins dangerously as you feel the blade begin to bite your flesh.

"You'll never run from us again... welcome to the family, my beloved." Jace coos as Luke reluctantly covers your mouth.

The two make sure your screams are unable to be heard by your parents as the blade digs into your flesh... just one tendon cut free to hinder your movement...

By the end of it you'll be a bird with clipped wings... forever the spouse of a half-dragon.

#yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #yandere jacaerys #yandere lucerys

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theeoriginals · 10 months ago

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I’d love to see your take on an arranged marriage with klaus (like medieval times or some period like that). maybe he’s marrying her to get something from her/her family but there’s something a little off about the reader (hint: she does what giulia tofana did - google her if you’re not familiar!! her story is so fascinating) and when he pieces it together he’s smitten with her 💗💗

aqua tofana | klaus mikaelson

author's note; this has been in my inbox for over a month because i was so inspired by it that I decided a 14k oneshot was necessary I hope I did it justice

klaus mikaelson x reader (no y/n) use of nickname in place of y/n

warnings; arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, klaus is a little shit but so is reader so it's okay, no Y/N, mentions of domestic abuse but not in regards to reader, mentions of poison, fluff, shy!klaus (he is real to me), these two mfers are in LOVE, mikael (a warning in itself), minor violence and bloodshed but nothing too bad. if I missed anything let me know!! this is heavily inspired by ACOTAR bc I just binged the entire series in less than a week so thank you sarah j. maas for your service

The Mikaelsons were said to be a noble family. One with loyalty and strength.

They were coming to stay in their small kingdom, in their castle. Three of them. Elijah, Rebekah, and Niklaus. Looking for a safe haven, to avoid growing conflicts in surrounding areas. Looking for someplace to call home for a little while longer– at least, until they could no longer pass as mortals.

Riverend was perfect for them.

The way the people of Riverend saw it, their problems were their own, and the larger, outlying kingdoms could fight their nonsensical battles without any help from a small, useless kingdom built downstream from them, carved right out of the flowing water that traveled through their town square by the calloused hands of the families that still lived there today.

As far as anyone was concerned, Riverend had no monetary value, no natural resources to capitalize off of, no armies worth rallying, and no animals to trade. The only thing it had was its people, and to most, that meant nothing. It meant they went overlooked, and were never considered in territory battles and similar crises. But to the right person–a dangerous person– such a thing could mean everything.

That is why she was so wary to accept this supposedly noble family into their walls. She had to be wary, to think of the danger they could bring along with them should they stay. How much danger it could put her kingdom in.

It’s why she had further qualms about marrying the man the king had been corresponding with all these months. Said qualms, of course, outside of the fact that she had no real desire to marry, let alone to a stranger. All familiarity aside, she had a duty to her people to maintain their livelihoods and not leave them stranded for her own selfish desires. Even if it meant marrying some man.

With her mother’s voice in her head telling her to keep her chin up and her shoulders back, she was determined to keep her wits about her. She didn’t complain when she was asked to wear one of her nicer gowns to greet the family when they arrived that brisk, cloudy afternoon. She let her ladies dress her in a midnight blue gown that swept along the ground, with sleeves that draped over her hands, leaving no skin visible, spare for her neck and face.

She was escorted by the king to the throne room, where she stood at his shoulder, resting a hand on the embroidered fabric along the muscle hidden beneath the layers. A silent, supportive daughter. A perfect royal family, to anyone who might linger too long while looking in their direction.

Two of their sentries escorted their new houseguests into the throne room, and she did nothing but raise a brow at their humble appearance. The girl, Rebekah, was young. She’d seen better days, and she silently wondered where they had traveled from that had them end up before her and her father with dirt scuffs on their cheeks, and scruffy, unkempt facial hair marring their jaws.

“Welcome, Lords and Lady, to our home,” Her father spoke genially, a content smile on his face as if he was unaware of the judgmental look his daughter was fixing them with. “We’re honored to have you here, honored to build a bridge between our families for years to come.”

One of the long-haired men spoke, his hands clasped neatly behind his back, making him look like he was some proper gentleman and not a random man who had shown up on her doorstep.

“The honor is all ours, Your Majesty. The opportunities that your generosity has given my family have not gone unnoticed. We thank you and the Princess for your kindness.”

The King shifted slightly like he’d forgotten his daughter was there. He turned to look at her over his shoulder, and she met his gaze, peering down at him over the bridge of her nose. “Yes, my daughter. Nyxia. She’s a woman of few words, I must warn you all. And when she chooses to speak, it’d do you well to listen closely.”

All of their eyes shifted to her, but the set of icy blue ones had never left. Not to meet the king’s eyes, or look around at his new home for the foreseeable future of their impending marriage.

“Your Highness,” Blue eyes, suddenly alight with fire. Flame that burns her from the tips of her toes to the base of her scalp that her very hair grows out of. Flame that ravages civilizations, and wipes out bloodlines. She can feel the darkness in him from two simple words. It’d take a fool to not see it. “I look forward to getting to know you before our prospective arrangement takes place.”

He wasn’t lying, she could tell. But his words seemed to hold as much weight as hers did. A hidden meaning tucked behind every spoken syllable. Dangerous. So dangerous. The King was a fool to not see it, but that was neither here nor there.

Licking her lips, she chose her first words carefully. It was always important to make a lasting first impression, but with this man– with her future husband, she wanted to be honest from the start. She wanted, for once, to reveal her hand before the game started. Just to see what he’d do. Just to see what he had planned.

But she didn’t. She knew it would just be chaos. And even though such things were in her blood, she couldn’t risk anything this far into everything.

“Lord Niklaus,” She didn’t move a muscle besides the ones it took to make words form on her tongue. “My kingdom rejoices with your arrival. They will be overjoyed with the announcement of our nuptials.”

And the man, encased in his flames that felt as if they could burn the whole world down should he please, tilted his head and smirked at her. Like he’d heard every thought she’d had in the moments between words.

Nothing else was said between them, not verbally, at least, and the king interrupted the rising tension that was so obvious between the Princess and the Mikaelson siblings, oblivious to the people he’d surrounded himself with.

“Lady Rebekah, my daughter can show you to your rooms in the east wing. You’ll have ladies of your own to help you bathe and dress,” He gestures to the blonde, who looks childishly excited at the thought. “The both of you will be in the west wing, my men can take you to your rooms. We can reconvene tonight at dinner, yes?”

The three siblings bowed at their waist, easily deferring the power back to the King.

“In the meantime, feel free to explore. Our home is yours, now. Make yourselves comfortable.”

She stayed in the throne room long after even her father had left, watching the doors the siblings had been escorted through. She lingered at her place beside the throne, nearly behind it, where her mother once stood behind a man who looked like he belonged on a throne more than any woman would. She laid a hand around the back of the embossed silver and thought to herself that it would look better in gold.

──────

Klaus watched his wife-to-be dig into the dinner presented before them moments ago, her fork the first one to move, even before her father’s. She didn’t sit at the head of the table, but just to the right of her father, and Klaus had taken the seat across from her. He did not doubt that she could feel his eyes on her, but she was pointedly ignoring it in favor of talking to his sister at her side.

Rebekah, ever the people pleaser. Even in their centuries on this earth, Rebekah could never resist the desire to cling to the nearest female in their proximity. He hadn’t said anything to her about it, yet. He figured there was no harm in letting her delude herself into thinking that Princess Nyxia wanted anything to do with any of them.

Elijah wasn’t even pretending to be friendly like he tended to be in this position. He’d been silent for a majority of the day, perhaps tired from their travels, though Klaus doubted it was anything so simple. If Klaus were to look at himself as a King, it would be Elijah as his second, watching everything and everyone, dutifully reporting back to him about usurpers and battles to come. It would be Elijah ripping hearts out, and Klaus taking responsibility for the blood on his brother’s hands.

There was a reason it was only the three of them. His other siblings just didn’t understand that you did everything for family.

He supposes that’s why he’s so curious about the two royals before him. They were the only family they had left, and yet there was something unspoken there, something withheld between them that left a tenuous truce. There was such anger behind Nyxia’s eyes, and Klaus had the urge to push and push at it until it finally shattered. Elijah often compared him to a child for this inane urge, and Klaus couldn’t deny it.

“This food is lovely, Your Majesty,”

Rebekah looked at Nyxia’s father with a sweet little smile, and Klaus wondered how she managed to maintain such a degree of humanity inside of her after everything.

“Oh, it’s all my sweet Nyx,” He turns his pleasant, kingly smile to his daughter. Looks like he owes her the world. She doesn’t return an ounce of the fondness, but she still smiles, like she knows it’s expected of her. “She has specific tastes, so I prefer her to pick the menu. Our cooks in the kitchen work to make it all come to life and it never disappoints.”

It works in the way that it makes Rebekah turn adoring eyes onto Nyxia once again, but it doesn’t do as such for the two brothers. There’s something about this place that drew them to it in the first place and they wanted to figure it out, neither of them did very well when it came to venturing into the unknown, so they devised the plan. It’s set in motion, it’s happening as they sit at this table and eat this food, and yet he still feels wrongfooted. He’s missing something, he’s missing the thing that brought him to this small kingdom in the first place.

He doesn’t like living in the dark.

Elijah cuts a thin bite of the lamb chop on the plate in front of him. “Do you cook, then, Princess?”

“If I am feeling particularly inspired, yes,” She grabs her silver chalice, swirling the dark red wine in it before she takes a drink. “I prefer vinification.”

The King’s face lights up like he’d been waiting for another opportunity to brag on his daughter. “Yes, Nyxia made the wine we’re drinking tonight. She tries to make a personal barrel at least once a year, and it’s always the most unique flavor. She goes out and picks fruits from our trees up near the bluffs, where–”

“I’m sure they aren’t interested to know what fruits our land produces, Father.”

“On the contrary,” Her eyes shot to Elijah at his words. “I think it’d be quite ignorant of us to turn down any knowledge of the land we’re to call… home. It seems to be a very special place.”

She watches him for a moment, eyes narrowing at his unsuspecting tone. “Yes,” She muses quietly, looking away from Elijah to meet Klaus’s gaze like she can tell Elijah’s speaking on his behalf. “Perhaps I’ll show you what makes it so special.”

None of them acknowledged the fact that it wasn’t so much of an offering of camaraderie, but rather a threat.

──────

Months go by. Time passes peacefully, but Klaus is growing restless.

With the announcement of their joining sent out to the few people they intended to invite outside of their kingdom, they had begun preparing the castle for the celebration and the princess found herself preoccupied with menial tasks, like picking out what flower arrangements to line the aisle with and what color banners should hang from the ceilings above them.

Throughout it, she’d done her best to avoid the Mikaelsons but maintained a close enough distance so they couldn’t claim she was giving them the cold shoulder. She’d grown quite good at falsifying closeness throughout her years. She was designed to have a connection with her people that displayed generosity but not bias. A relatability, but not a weakness.

She was sure that Rebekah would call them best friends by now, but she also knew the girl could not even tell a person what the princess’s favorite color was if someone ever bothered to ask her.

She has always been able to exist in a way that makes her entirely extraordinary, but forgettable the moment she’s out of sight.

She’s been able to use the wedding as an excuse to avoid isolated interactions with Klaus, but she knew he’d catch her without an excuse one of these days. She would’ve preferred to avoid it for a bit longer, but she wasn’t unprepared when it finally happened.

Standing in the aisle of the throne room where the banners of white and gold were hanging above the place they were to stand in front of her people and all of the guests they’d sent invitations out to and declare an undying bond that didn’t exist, she felt a rage bubble inside of her that she was quick to smother into nothing but cinders and ash when she heard the doors creak open behind her and footsteps slow as he stopped beside her.

“You’re a hard woman to track down, Princess,”

“You could have sent for me at any time. It is my duty to serve my subjects,”

She glances at Klaus out of the corner of her eye and sees an amused look grow on his face. “Is that what I am? One of your subjects?”

“Until we are bound by law, yes, Lord Mikaelson. You are one of my subjects and I your Princess. Soon enough you’ll be Prince, and you will also owe loyalty to my subjects because this place does not exist without them.”

“You take such pride in this kingdom, in these lands, yet you did not win it in a battle, have not even fought in one, as far as I’m aware. You have no value to other kingdoms, and yet your father brags of orchards and vineyards with bountiful fruits. He tells tales of heroic civilians, always offering a helping hand to those in need. Sparing what they can, to maintain their peace here. It’s an odd thing, considering I’d never seen or heard of Riverend before that time all those months ago when I first met your father.”

“And yet, here you stand, within the walls of my kingdom, amongst my people. In my home.”

There’s no humor in her voice. There isn’t any hatred in it, either, and he can tell she’s got that impenetrable mask on again. Even her momentary anger or irritation was different from this nothingness.

He can hear her father’s words from that very first day, telling them all that her words are important. He remembers thinking it was such an odd thing to point out at that time. It almost rings like a warning, now, and not a twisted compliment for the woman.

“It’s curious, is all. I wonder if I’ll understand what inspires such devotion once I am Prince, or if it is a feeling only you experience.”

She turns, finally, to look at him. “You are interested in learning what makes me love my people and my home?”

He ducks his head in a nod. “Guilty, I suppose.”

“Then I will show you,” She nods once, firmly. Like she’s just decided it then and there because of his earnest words, and he thinks it’s a ridiculous, rash thing, but when he looks into her eyes there is no hesitation or wariness. “Tonight, we will have dinner and I will answer all of your questions. I will show you why I would spill endless blood for this kingdom, and never ask any of my people to do the same for me in return.”

He raises his brows, letting a sliver of his suspiciousness show in his icy, blue-gray eyes. “You’re offering such honesty to my family after weeks of pretending like we don’t exist? Forgive me if I’m skeptical of your generosity.”

“Not your family. You. You and I will have dinner alone, and I will tell you everything you want to know,” She corrects him, earning a more genuine look of shock from him. “You are to be my husband. One day you will be my King, and I your Queen. Is honesty not the place to start?”

Klaus falls silent, watching her, waiting for a slip-up. For any sign of hesitation or scheming behind her endless eyes. Finding nothing, he bites out a wry laugh and nods in agreement, finally tearing his eyes away from her to look around at the decorated throne room.

The betrotheds stand silent together for a few minutes, and she offers no insight into whatever it is she’s thinking as she stares at the throne front and center in the room.

“Is my help needed for our wedding?” Klaus says suddenly as if there isn’t a mounting tension building in the room like a shadow of the night.

“Not unless you are offering,” She says simply. “I’ve told them white and gold, for our colors. My dress is to be fashioned similarly, as are your garments. I’m sure you’ll be summoned for fittings, but our seamstresses have plenty of work to do before then.”

The man hummed agreeingly. “Then I shall leave you to it. And I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

“Before you go, Lord Mikaelson,”

“I am certain you can call me Niklaus. Just Klaus if you’re feeling particularly agreeable that day, Princess,”

She raised a brow like one might raise their lips in humor. “Niklaus.”

He looks at her indulgently.

“Even after we are married, outside of our duties to this kingdom, I will never ask you for anything,” She says, her words striking something like a warning bell inside him. “But right now, I have a question for you.”

“Ask me anything, Princess,”

“Do you know who you are?”

Klaus’s eyebrows flexed on his forehead. “Pardon?”

She turns to face him head-on, standing before him like she did that first day they arrived, only this time there was barely a foot of distance between them. He could almost see her pulse move in the long lines of her throat. “I ask you, as your future wife, do you know who you are? Do you feel the shadow that shields your soul? Do you feel the fire that consumes you?”

She tilts her head at his suspended silence. “You hide from the light that is still inside of you. You hide from someone. But you won’t hide from me. You can’t. It is because of that unfair advantage that I am offering you honesty. Know that I do this for you as an act of trust. Do not underestimate the weight of such a thing, or you will see just what I am willing to do for this place.”

She side-steps him and walks past him, leaving him in a stunned silence that quickly turns into rage that they both know he can’t take out on anything within the walls of this castle, and the borders of this kingdom.

She’s established the high ground. And she has made it clear that it is not Klaus standing up there, looking down at her, but rather the other way around.

She’s offered to even the playing field, though. He’s curious to see just how much honesty she’ll be parting with tonight. He’s curious to see how it will end.

──────

The table is set for two.

It’s different from the dining table they’ve been occupying for the past three weeks. This is a table made for two, and only for two.

Candlelight casts shadows around the room, and Klaus does a slight double take as he walks towards the table, escorted quietly by one of the sentries from his quarters to this room. He’s loath to admit he was distracted by thinking about all of the possibilities of this dinner to pay attention to the fact that he was being led to the east wing and not the usual central hall where meals were had.

But it’s too late for him to question it, as the sentry is walking out and a door across the room opens, revealing the princess.

She’s changed again– always in different gowns throughout the day. This one is similar to the one she was wearing when they first met. A blue so dark it looks black, that holds color like the night sky. Sleeves that drape over her shoulders and cinch down to her wrist, leaving only her hands bare. With the dim lighting of this private dining room, shadows dance around her face, and he thinks to himself that the shadows cling to her.

She gestures for him to take a seat, already doing so, and she immediately grabs a corked bottle from the side of the table, popping it open and pouring their golden chalices halfway full before she sets it back down.

Klaus takes the first drink and has to bite back the pleased noise he starts to make, if only out of spite.

“I’ve been fermenting this wine for three years,” She informs him, seemingly hearing the noise anyway, if the gleam in her eye is anything to go by. “It’s from my private reserves.”

“Aren’t they all from your private reserves?”

“No, I give barrels to the tavern in town,” She swirls it around in her cup, quirking a brow at him.

“Give, or sell?”

“Aren’t you the one who said I have undying generosity for this kingdom for no good reason?” She takes a small sip of the wine, holding it in her mouth for a moment before she sets it down. “It’s too bitter for my liking.”

Klaus hums, taking another drink. “Perhaps you’re just your own biggest critic,”

“Mm, perhaps,” She concedes, fluttering her eyes in a slight roll. It’s as casual as he’s ever seen her, and she’s still sitting stock-straight in her chair, shoulders back and chin high. As royal as ever. “Are you going to start asking your questions?”

He smirks, tilting his head in a slight nod. “Maybe I was waiting for your permission. I wouldn’t want to be a rude dinner guest, after all. Not after you’ve brought this lovely meal into this secluded space,”

“It’s mine. I don’t always prefer to eat in the company of others,” She says. “My bedroom is through that door.”

She points to the door she’d come through upon his arrival, and his eyes follow the curve of her arm through the fabric shifting along it.

“How lucky I am, then, hm?”

“Oh, most people would not call it luck, Niklaus. In fact, I think I heard your brother say to your sister once that it feels like you’re all just sheep in a wolf’s den.”

Klaus makes a dry noise of acknowledgment, mentally cursing his brother for saying such things within earshot of anyone, let alone his soon-to-be wife. “My brother’s desire to protect this family often leads him to paranoia, I’m afraid.”

“I never said he was wrong.”

Klaus’s hands flex in his lap, out of view of the princess. “Oh, is that so? Then maybe I am ready to start asking questions,”

She beckons him on with a wave of her hand. Neither of them has touched their meals. He doesn’t think they’ve broken eye contact, either. Locked in this stalemate, tension rising and rising and rising.

“I have traveled far and wide in my days on this planet, and I have come across some very strange places, I must say. But never have I come across a place that simply… doesn’t exist,”

If Klaus knew any better, he’d think she looked excited at the words coming out of his mouth.

“That is not a question, my Lord,”

He smirks at her correction. “What is it? What is it that hides this place from the map? How do you keep travelers passing through, yet no one has ever had so much as a–a tall tale, or some monster story to tell about this place? You fight in no wars but you have sentries stationed throughout this castle, on guard every night and day. You trade no goods, but these lands are bountiful in fruits and vegetables, crops as big as this castle grow in people’s yards. So, tell me, Princess Nyxia, how do you do it?”

She shifts in her chair, leaning her arm onto the armrest, and for the first time since he met her all those months ago, she smiles.

She smiles widely, and it’s not something wicked or cold, but instead, it’s amusement, through and through. Every bit of that coldness stays in her eyes, though. Darkness still clinging to her like a child and its mother.

“There are stories about things– creatures so dangerous that you cannot even utter their name, for fear of inviting them into your home, your mind,” She starts, undoubtedly aware of the anticipation thrumming in his veins. He’s had to be so careful about feeding since they came here, compelling people, and never taking too much, because he can’t risk her catching on. He thinks he feels more human than ever within these walls, and it’s such an odd thing.

“My real name has not been spoken in decades. Most people in this kingdom, in this castle, do not know me as anything other than Nyxia. It is the name that my mother held when people started to refuse to say her name as well, and in honor of her great life, I now bear it as my own.”

Klaus lets out a slow breath, a feeling like adrenaline coursing through him. “What are you, Nyxia?”

“I am the shadows that follow you along the walls, I am the very stars in the sky. I am the end to every day, and I will be the end to it all when I am finally called back home. I am the thing you see every time you blink your eyes, Klaus Mikaelson. I am darkness.”

He shuffles, leaning his elbows onto the table to examine her closely, in a way that he hasn’t had the chance to do since their arrival. “You keep this place hidden so that people don’t find you and hunt you.”

“Why do you think you and your siblings found this place? Why do you think you could see and remember what so many others could not?” She raised a brow, pulling her cloth napkin from her lap and dropping it atop her untouched plate. “I know what you are, Niklaus Mikaelson. The Original Hybrid. The divide in you is shadowed in darkness. I am, and have been a part of your very being from the day you took your first breath and were declared a bastard.”

He flinches minutely, but she sees it anyway. “Why me? Why lure me and my family here? To kill us? I have no doubt you have every means to kill creatures such as ourselves if your claims of power are to be taken as truth.”

“I have no intention to kill you, Klaus,” She pushes her chair back from the table, standing up. Silently, she gestures for him to do the same. “I have not yet told you why I do what I do here.”

“You haven’t even told me what you do here, let alone why,”

She chuckles freely and he ignores the chill that travels down his spine at the sound. It’s like she’s been waiting on him to break this dam between them, and now that her secret is out, she’s alive.

She’d told him earlier to realize the weight that is behind her trust, her honesty. He will admit to himself that he had underestimated it, even in the wake of her precautions.

“Your family is not expecting you tonight, right?”

He raises his brows but shakes his head. “I told them I’d be having dinner with you and that I’d be out for the night. Why do you ask?”

“We’ll be taking a trip. I have things to do,”

It’s all she says before she leads him into her bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind them.

──────

Draped in cloaks that covered their faces in shadows she had promised him would keep them hidden while they made their way through muddy alleys and thick groves of trees, Klaus couldn’t help but wonder just what he’d gotten himself into.

He didn’t often admit that he was in over his head– was rarely in such a position at all– but this. This was something he was utterly in the dark about. The irony wasn’t lost on him, either.

“Where are we going, Princess?”

“You may call me Nyxia, you know. You did earlier,”

“I am nothing if not a gentleman, Princess Nyxia,”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s an unfamiliar degree of humor in the action. He’s still discombobulated at her complete flip of a switch, but he’s trying to familiarize himself with it. He selfishly hopes that she doesn’t slide that cold mask back on when they return to the castle.

“They’ll be just through here,” Nyxia led them through another tightly packed thicket of trees, and just as Klaus was about to complain, they broke through into a clearing that nearly took his breath away.

Though they were undoubtedly still surrounded by the forest she’d traipsed them through for the past hour, at least, this ovaloid clearing was shrouded in a different kind of darkness than the night that encased the rest of the area.

Light up by the stars glimmering just out of reach above their heads, women mingled about, stopping to talk to one another. A few children ran by, laughing as they chased one another barefoot through the trees, disappearing out of sight and earshot as soon as they left the area, only to reappear before him like a bursting bubble.

Klaus turned slightly to look at Nyxia, watching her pull her cloak down off her head and smile kindly, genuinely, to the people who had stopped and gathered around them. Klaus took the cue and pulled his own hood off, and his presence immediately earned wary looks.

Glancing at Nyxia, he fought the urge to jump when her hand landed on his arm, her face contorting into an understanding but reassuring look. “No, no, look,”

She pulled Klaus closer to her, keeping her hand wrapped around his arm as he looked warily at the sea of faces watching him. Feeling entirely caught off guard, he stayed silent, happily letting Nyxia take the reins.

“This is my betrothed,” Her words immediately earn a variety of reactions. From the children, their hesitance turns into immediate adoration. From the older women, teasing laughs are shared between them, and Nyxia bats a hand out to silence them, though it’s not done out of real offense.

Friends, he realizes. These are her friends. She’s brought him to meet her friends that she has hidden in this patch of woods, further secluding a place that already doesn’t exist outside of its own bubble.

An unavoidable arrow of fondness shoots down his spine, and he bats it away as quickly as he can.

“So our lovely princess has finally brought a prince to meet us,” One of the older women grins tauntingly, and Klaus eyes the wrinkles around her mouth that only come from smiling too much, and the strands of gray hair falling out of the braids she’s got piled atop her head.

“Klaus,” He says, somewhat shocked by the emotion in his voice. “You may call me Klaus.”

“Klaus, then,” The woman nods, conveying something to Nyxia that is seemingly translated between the two of them, though Klaus couldn’t even begin to guess what went unsaid.

Nyxia finally removes her hand from his arm to reach into her cloak, pulling three small bottles out and passing them off to the older woman, whose face turns somewhat solemn.

“I know that one is for Merida,” The woman starts, meeting Nyxia’s gaze from beneath her lashes. “But who are the other two?”

“Reya and Liesl,”

The woman curses beneath her breath and apologizes when the children nearby gasp.

“When am I to bring this to them?”

“Within the week. It has only been getting worse lately,”

As if she were a soldier being told her life was being offered up on the chopping block, the woman nodded and tucked the vials into the deep pockets of the dress she wore. “I will send word once they are here.”

“Thank you, Theresé,” She grabs Klaus’s arm gently once more, beginning to steer him towards the path they’d taken, but she stops short, looking over her shoulder with a slight smirk. “You are all invited to the wedding, of course. Next month. I will send someone to escort you to the castle.”

A bout of excited tittering follows them out, and they walk in silence, heading a bit of the way back towards the castle before she leads them off to the left, walking them across one of the runoff creeks that flow with the river through town.

He remains silent until she leaves his side to push open a gate ahead of them, the metal creaking and groaning beneath her force, but giving way eventually.

This time, when Klaus steps forward, he instantly knows where he is. “The orchard,”

“Yes,” Nyxia takes a deep breath in, releasing it quietly. “Come, let’s sit.”

She leads him to a wooden bench down the main aisle in between the trees full of ripe fruit, all looking ready to be harvested and used.

“That place,” He starts once they’ve been seated for a moment, Klaus watching Nyxia’s profile as she basks beneath shadows and night of her own making. “What is it?”

“It has no name,” She informs him, her voice unexpectedly soft.

She’s been so different this entire night, he wonders how long she’s been waiting for someone to just ask her these questions. Every person who’s been close enough to do it has been too scared of what wrath they may face if they did ask her about the oddities of her home, but Klaus did it because he can’t help but push people.

“It has no name, and no one knows of it besides the ones who live there, and myself. Now, you do, too,”

“What is the purpose of it? Why is it only women and children?”

She takes a long moment to think about her words, and he can see the way she struggles to verbalize her thoughts because no one had ever thought to ask her before. “Just because I am darkness does not mean that I can control all that exists in this world. I can’t take away what already exists, no matter how much I wish to. That place is what I call a loophole. I have them hidden all around the world. Because I cannot erase what already exists, I must find a way to work around it. To remove the darkness I wish to see gone without violating the laws of my making.”

“And what exactly have you been working around?”

“Humanity,” She says simply. “With every passing decade, they tear themselves apart more and more. My loopholes exist to take people out of that chaos, of the darkness. Sometimes it’s a hungry child or a bastard,”

Klaus glances away for a moment before forcing his gaze back to hers.

“Sometimes it is a woman that gets sold to the highest bidder. The woman I spoke to, Theresé, was one of the first women I saved from a nearby village. Her husband was an utter brute and had killed his first wife when she had barely seen sixteen name days. Theresé was strong, but there was only so much she could do before the inevitable. So I stepped in and I proposed a hypothetical situation to her, where all she would have to do is make him dinner and serve him wine, and meet me outside of her home later that night.

“I did not think she would do it, but when the moon was high in the sky, I waited outside of her house and barely breathed until she was standing before me in one piece, with tears in her eyes and bruises on her cheek. So I told her who I was and what I wanted to do, and she said she would help me if I continued to save women who had been in her position. So I have. The girls I mentioned, Reya and Liesl. Young girls, friends since childhood. They were married off to the same man, a prince of some second-rate kingdom a few days north that had already gone through 3 wives. They have just found out they’re both pregnant, and fear raising children in the environment they live in.”

Realization dawns on him. “You give them poison. The wine you make,”

She hums in assent and silence falls between them once more, the princess dutifully letting Klaus turn the events of the night over and over in his head, finally slotting pieces together where they’d been misaligned for months.

“Why?” He breathes out, his tone of disbelief earning her attention once more. “Why did you bring me there when you’ve barely spoken to me all these months? When you have known what I am and who my family is, and you knew I was suspicious from the very start, why have you just now shown me the truth?”

Sighing, Nyxia looks down at her hands folded neatly in her lap. “I fear that my honesty is about to get me in trouble for the first time tonight.”

“Just tell me,” He shakes his head pleadingly. “Please.”

“Death consumes your very soul, Klaus,” Her voice takes on a distant tone, one he recognizes more than any fondness or humor she’s shown throughout the night. It’s the way she’d spoken to him since he first arrived, down to that very morning in the throne room, overlooking preparations for their wedding. “It is a fire that burns you from the inside out. And because of that fire, there is a shadow on you. And in that shadow, I exist. I see parts of you that you likely would not share with me, and for good reason.”

Klaus can’t help the way he flinches, shifting away from her on the bench. She looks unsurprised at this particular reaction, but her fingers twitch like she’s going to reach out for him again.

She doesn’t.

“I have known you much longer than you have known me, and for that, I apologize. When you first arrived, I was still hesitant to believe what I had felt, and I– I am much different in the daylight. I am at my weakest when the sun is out, and that has never changed. But– other things have.”

“Your father–”

“He is not my father,” She cuts him off, voice reverting to that cold indifference for a split second. “Once upon a time, he was a man. A king. But he was not a kind man, let alone a kind king. So I took the darkness in his mind, and I collapsed it from within. I made him hollow with it, and now he is but a puppet. A face to put on our currency, so that I may do as I please without so much attention. My people remember the cruel man, and they remember what I did for them. That is why I have their respect. Their loyalty. Trust breeds trust.”

Klaus’s jaw clenches. “And when you decide you’re ready to become Queen one day, and I become a King, will you also make me into a puppet? Will I be nothing but a conduit of political jargon made to distract people from your loopholes?”

Nyxia’s eyes burn, but they are dark. Almost black.

“I did not bring you here to make you a puppet, Niklaus,”

“Then why did you bring me here? Tell me, Nyxia. Tell me the truth.”

“I brought you here because I want to protect you,”

Klaus’s lip curls in a snarl and he stands up, cloak billowing around him. He turns at the feeling of a slight breeze and finds himself looking at the castle from a high distance, and he wonders if he’d been in such shock that he hadn’t noticed their uphill hike, or if this was another one of her tricks.

Clenching his jaw, he turns to look down at her. “I do not need protecting, Princess. I have done nothing but protect myself and my family for hundreds of years.”

“I know that, Klaus,” She spits out, looking as angry as he feels. Both of them are stubborn to a fatal degree. “But I want you to let me do it anyway!”

Klaus lets out a harsh breath through his nose, turning to look away from her as his chest heaves with frustrated breaths. An overwhelming sense of exhaustion practically slaps him in the face as it settles over him and he finds his racing thoughts finally slowing down, seeming to process in his mind after the eventful night.

“I understand that this has all been unexpected,” She starts, voice carefully neutral in the wake of both of their tempers. “And I will not blame you for being upset. But trust me when I say that I have your best interests in heart, for you and your family.”

“I’m to trust you after you’ve shown me only a fraction of the truth?”

Her soft look has shuttered away when he looks at her again. “I told you,” She whispers, voice quiet but certainly not weak with how thick it was around the emotion clenching around her windpipe. “That I was putting all of my trust into you the moment I told you what I am. The danger that I have thrust upon you and myself just by sharing all of this with you is endless. I have bared my soul to you in a single night, Klaus Mikaelson, and then you spit in my face by asking me if I am trustworthy.”

“Nyxia,”

She stands from the bench abruptly, pulling the hood of her cloak back up over her head. “We should go. I don’t want to run into the guards at the shift change.”

“Nyxia, just–”

“We’re leaving,” She cuts him off, not looking back to see if he’s following after her as she stalks off towards the gates she’d opened for him, just for him, moments ago. “Either join me, or find your own way back.”

Klaus pulls his own hood up and is quick to fall into step a few paces behind her because he isn’t nearly stupid enough to think that their easygoing atmosphere from earlier is still lingering. All because he couldn’t stop the traitorous beating of his heart and the way his skin crawled at the thought of entrusting the safety of his family to anyone else.

She is going to be family soon enough, though. If she’ll still have him, that is.

──────

The tension in the castle is thick for a few days before it’s suddenly dampened with something painful.

Rain begins to pour and does not stop for three days straight. Most foot traffic that is in and out of the castle for wedding planning is put on pause at the King’s order. Not worth risking the safety and integrity of any person or thing for one wedding.

Klaus doesn’t see or hear from Nyxia for those three days, and on the fourth day of heavy downpours, of him being stuck in the library with his brother or listening to his sister drone on about a particularly handsome guard, he breaks. He walks the path the sentry had taken him down into the East Wing of the castle and knocks on the thick wooden door, tilting his head just to hear the heart beating faintly on the other side of it. It’s the only reason he even knows she’s alive, and he can’t stop the relief that soothes his nerves.

It doesn’t manage to get rid of the cloud of guilt that’s been hanging above his head since that night in the orchard, nor does it make him want to turn around and leave.

“Princess?” His voice is low, but he knows she’ll hear it if she’s listening. “I was just…”

He trails off, unsure of what excuse to offer up for his impromptu visit. A lie, a half-truth. The whole truth.

It’s the least he could do in return, offer her honesty. Since he threw hers right back in her face four nights ago.

“May I come in, please?”

Silence follows his question, but when he pushes on the door slightly, it creaks open, and he steps through as quickly as possible, not willing to take the chance that it was a fluke. He’s greeted with darkness broken up by dim firelight, and his eyes take a moment to adjust, that concern inside of him chipping away at his pride.

“Princess?” He asks again, voice low in the dim room. His brows twitch on his forehead, pulling together. “Nyxia?”

There’s a shift of fabric from the four-poster bed a few feet in front of him, and he can see the orange glow in the room the moment she turns to face him.

Even in the poor lighting, he can see the sunken shadows of her face and the way the stars in her eyes have gone dull.

“Nyxia?” He nearly gasps her name as he rushes to her bedside, dropping to his knees beside it as he takes in her sickly features. “What’s happened to you?”

She lets out a shaky breath that sounds like it hurts. “Sometimes… sometimes I let them take too much,”

Confusion passes over him momentarily before a realization hits him. “The loopholes… this place… it drains you, doesn’t it?”

She nods where her head is pressed into the pillow.

He lifts a trembling hand to her cheek, brushing invisible dirt off of her cheek. He can feel the clammy sweat tainting her skin, the fever roaring in her veins. How odd it must be to be an immortal creature taken down by something comparable to a cold.

“Why?” He shakes his head, genuine disbelief coating the word as he watches his betrothed wheeze out a few more breaths. “Why do you let them do this? Why do you do this?”

She smiles and there's a tired pull to it, and she leans into his touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “People are so scared of me,” Her voice is impossibly soft, so unfamiliar, and yet he feels that ache in his chest, the desire to hear it more. To hear her more. “They are scared of everything. The least I can do is make my darkness feel safer.”

He thinks it shatters something in him, to hear her grand reasoning behind everything. To hear that underneath that cold exterior, and the soft one, too, the woman before him just wants people to feel safe in her shadows. She wants them to leave behind lives of unhappiness, to not feel fear when the moon rises in the sky and stars hang over their heads. She doesn’t want them to fear the thought of a monster under their bed but rather feel protected by it. By her.

She wants to do that for him. For his family. And he’d practically laughed in her face.

A shame buries itself deep in him, and he finds himself lurching forward slightly, face hovering above hers to keep her attention while she loses her lucidity before his eyes. “What can I do? What can I do to make this better?”

She reaches a hand up from beneath her blankets and rests it atop his. “Stay. Just stay with me, please,”

He nods and holds back more words he’s simply not ready to say yet. Reluctantly leaves her side for a moment to bring a chair to her bedside, and once again intertwine their hands together.

He watches her fall asleep and continues watching her well into the night. It doesn’t feel like a chore, or anything of the sort. He thinks he’d be content to spend a few years of his eternity just sitting here with her.

──────

It takes another four days for Nyxia to be able to get out of bed without feeling weak. In those days she regains a bit of that life back into her eyes, and Klaus is there to see every speck of it grow. He sees the shadows get darker again, not as faded and murky as they seemed to be when she was in the worst of it. It makes him happy in a way that he wouldn’t have ever expected it to.

They spend those four days together in a bubble of their own, with small touches shared between each other. Lingering glances and longing looks are shared from across the dining table while they share meals with his family and the king.

He doesn’t know if all of it means he’s forgiven for his harsh words in the orchard. He doesn’t let himself hope for anything, because he’s not sure if he deserves it after everything.

It’s a particular train of thought he hasn’t let come to fruition for his own sanity. Instead, he’s relished in the freshly budding relationship between him and his wife-to-be. The partnership that’s being created. The friendship.

He finds himself in the library that remains hidden behind one, nondescript door that opens up to high ceilings, and endless bookshelves. The first time she’d taken him to see it, he’d spent the entire evening looking through the books, getting lost in the history books she had in her collection.

As the days go by, he finds himself there more and more, and it seems that Nyxia’s in the same boat.

Hands skimming against the worn spines of the books, Klaus’s mind travels near and far, and he lets his imagination run wild. It’s a rare occurrence, this vulnerability that he’s found within these walls, beneath Nyxia’s care, so he can’t be faulted for being caught off guard when a book slides out from the shelf on the other side and he snaps his gaze up to meet her amused one.

There’s no doubt she misses the slight intake of breath he does at her sudden presence, but she gives him the grace of not saying anything about it out loud. Her face is framed between the two shelves and she grins widely, unabashedly, in the shadows of the books. “Hiding in the art history books again, Niklaus?”

He ducks his head, glancing at the lone book he is holding in his hands, a finger shoved between pages to hold his place while he searches through other titles. Lifting his eyes back up to meet hers once more, he shrugs a shoulder, poorly feigning obliviousness.

“It’s alright, at least I always know where I can find you,” She quickly dismisses his uncharacteristic shyness, and he’s once again grateful for it, even if he’s not sure if she does it for her own sake or his. “I wanted to ask you a question, actually, about the wedding.”

He raises a brow, not hiding his surprise. She rarely brings the wedding up to him these days, and with the celebration in just five days, the castle staff was bustling about more than ever. Klaus only ever looked at the gold and white decor lining the throne room in passing, usually hurrying through to track Nyxia down somewhere in the castle, or dodging his brother’s increasingly personal questions about the state of his relationship with the Princess.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t thinking about the wedding, despite Nyxia rarely saying anything to him about it. He found himself wondering just how the day would transpire as it drew closer, wondered how all of the fittings he did for his garments a while back would look like in the end, and wondered endlessly about just what Nyxia would be walking down the aisle in.

“It’s about the guest list,”

Her voice pulls him from the frequent thought and he bites the tip of his tongue in silent reprimand. Clearing his throat quietly, he looked at her. “What of it? I thought invitations were sent out months ago,”

“They were,” She confirms, nodding once. Her voice takes on a hint of that diplomatic lilt she likes to pull out of thin air with him when she feels she’s approaching a difficult subject. It instantly puts his nerves on edge, but he tries not to get defensive. If there’s anything he’s learned with her, it’s that he’ll do nothing but regret his knee-jerk reaction to bare his teeth and snarl at the first feeling of danger coming his way. He knows just as well that Nyxia would never put him in danger on purpose.

“I was just wondering if there was anyone you wanted to invite,” She continued, glancing away from him. “I know Rebekah and Elijah will be there, of course, but is there anyone else you want to come?”

He’s quick to respond, barely even thinking about it. “I’ve become familiar enough with your subjects that they’re plenty for me, I think. Especially the women coming from the loophole. I’m looking forward to seeing them,”

Her face softens with an endless fondness he’s not quite sure what to do with. Any time she offers it up to him, he does his best to just hold it gently in between them, like it was a cloud threatening to seep through his fingers and dissipate into nothingness.

“I am as well,” She smiles briefly before her face falls back into a placating look. “But you’re sure you don’t have any friends you might not have thought of? Or any more family? I’m sure you’ve… outlived… most of your ancestors, but perhaps there’s a distant cousin that was never turned? Or your… your parents, perhaps?”

Klaus instantly realizes the true nature of her question, and once again has to fight off the urge to snap at her and make her go away. It’s an easier path to take than explaining just why his parents won’t be in attendance at their wedding or part of their futures at all, and why he wouldn’t want them to in the first place, but he finds himself wanting to try. It’s the least he could do for her.

“No, my– my parents are no longer– an option,” He says carefully, brows furrowing as he revisits centuries-old aches and stabs of pain laced with a childish hurt. “I wouldn’t want them here even if they were.”

Her face twists with concern before she disappears from the side of the shelf, and Klaus’s eyes widen momentarily before he hears the click of her shoes growing closer. She rounds the corner of the bookshelf swiftly, coming to stand before him with a practiced look of understanding on her face meant to convey her state of heeding.

“You know by now that I’m a bastard,” She nods. “Even though my father was already unhappy with how I came about, it worsened when he learned my father was the leader of the werewolf pack in our village. I wasn’t just a bastard, but a monster, then, too. I faced abuse from my father my entire life, and my mother always let it happen, or encouraged it, if only to save herself from facing his wrath for her own mistakes.”

Silently, she reaches out and grabs the book from his hand, setting it flat on the shelf in favor of grabbing his hands in hers.

“When my youngest brother Henrik was killed by the pack my true father was a part of, my mother was overcome with the grief of losing a child and that’s when she turned us. When she made the spell to make us into these undying creatures who survive off of blood. She and Mikael killed us all and we were forced to transition when we woke.”

Squeezing his hands, Nyxia shakes her head. “You don’t have to go on, Klaus.”

He shakes his head, waving off her apology. “It’s alright. I want you to know the truth,” Her already soft face opens more and she takes another minute step towards him, closing the distance between them a bit more. “With everything heightened after my transition, I was so overcome with my anger that I lost control and I– I killed her. I killed my mother.”

“Nik,”

“I regretted it as soon as I did it. And I buried her body where no one would find it, and I told my family that she was killed by our father. Because in my head, she was. She let him abuse me, she let him turn even a fraction of that hatred onto Rebekah and Elijah, and the rest of them, and I– I truly hated her for it. What good of a mother was she if she could just watch that happen to her children?”

He clenches his jaw and tilts his head slightly, biting down the bitterness that still swims in his veins all these years later. “Mikael knew what I did, though. I don’t know how, but he always knew. And I– I don’t know what’s happened to him, I don’t know if he’s dead or alive, like us or something else, but I– I do not want him here. I wouldn’t want him here, no matter the situation. I never want someone like Mikael to find this place, because a single touch from him would destroy it all.”

Nyxia shakes her head immediately, eyes wide and full of something that transcends simple fondness. “He wouldn’t, Niklaus. I wouldn’t let him ruin it. This is my home– this is our home. I won’t let him ruin it for you.”

Klaus wished he could believe her. And he knows she knows that. And he knows they both know it’s truly got nothing to do with her, and everything to do with the fact that his father has ruined his life at every turn since the day he was born. It’s just what he does. He could so easily take this beautiful thing Klaus has been given and tarnish it with a single touch.

“I had to inherit these shadows, you know?” She says suddenly, taking him off guard. “I wasn’t born with them, not really. I was born with power, I was made of this power. But in order to have them at the capacity at which they exist now, I had to wait for my mother to die. She was my best friend. But I think that made it all the worse when I had to watch her wither away through each century, until one day, she became nothing more than the night sky we came from. Afterward, I was so overcome with grief that I didn’t even acknowledge the shadows. I wanted no part of it, not without her,”

She huffs out a small, wry laugh and shakes her head. “But they are very stubborn. They persisted, and one day, they brought me into the shadows and showed me the light that exists within them. And after that day, I started doing things differently. It’s been a long time since then, but I still remember all of those feelings like it was yesterday. And I know that because you have been given the gift and the curse of eternity just as I have, that you understand it like no one else does. So you must believe me when I say this, husband, but it will not be like this forever. And I am making you a promise now that your– that Mikael will not ever make his mark in my kingdom. You and I will live in peace for the rest of our days, with our people and no one can take that from us. Do you hear me? Do you hear me, Niklaus?”

He nods, clenching his teeth together as he swallows around the concrete lump in his throat. “Of course. Of course I do,”

“Good,” She nods once. “You can trust me. I swear it on my life.”

He nods again and she offers him a small smile, like she’s wary to shift the graveness that had settled over them into something else. He jostles their conjoined hands, and her eyebrows tick together, silently coaxing his words out.

“How did you do it?” He asks quietly. “How did you find the light when you were surrounded by the darkness?”

Her eyes suddenly burned with ferocity, an ancient thing that had roots buried deep inside of her. A small fraction of her power. “I carved it out of the shadows with my bare hands and I did not stop until my fingers bled. Until my nails were cracked and my body screamed for me to stop. And I would do it again if it meant I kept you and your family safe. Understand that, Klaus. If nothing else, understand that I’ll bleed for you.”

Klaus isn’t sure what to do in the face of her devotion. He feels as if it should be the other way around– him worshiping her, instead of this blood-promise she’s made to him. He isn’t sure what to do or say, but he is sure of one thing; he loves her. And he would bleed for her just as well.

──────

The morning of their wedding, a low hum of activity overtakes the calm of the castle and does not falter, well into the early hours of afternoon. Klaus was summoned from his rooms just minutes after the sun was up and brought to the seamstresses that he’d seen increasingly over the months and put into the intricate suit made specifically for him.

His trousers were plain, simple, and tucked carefully into shoes that almost felt like armor. His surcoat was donned with intricate, weaving lines of gold that gleamed in the sunlight, woven into the fabric like they were the very veins in his body. Like it was a showcase of the life that flowed through him, scorching like the sun for all eternity. When he was draped with a mantle of white fur and more golden details along the draped fabric, he looked in the lone mirror before him and felt, for the first time, that he was truly a king. And just after that thought, he couldn’t help but wonder what his queen looked like.

When he is escorted to the throne room, he can hear the dozens of heartbeats waiting on the other side of the doors before him and he only has a moment to breathe before the doors are swung open and the guests are standing, turning to face him.

His blue eyes immediately shoot to the front of the room, where the king awaits his presence at the end of the aisle, where his brother and sister stand on either side of the large arbor, looking at him with an odd pride gleaming in their eyes.

Bracing himself, he lifts his chin slightly and walks forward, his hands clasped in front of him as he meets the eyes of strangers, all watching him like they’re waiting for him to show his true colors. When he nears the end of the aisle, he looks over to his left and sees Theresé standing there, with a row of familiar faces lined up beside her, and he can’t stop the small twitch of his lips when she meets his gaze head-on with a smile that radiates pure excitement.

He tears his gaze away from the women and children of the loophole and meets the king’s eyes, exchanging a nod with the man as he takes his place at the center of the room. He turns his head towards the doors he’d come through moments ago, and finds himself holding his breath as he waits for them to open once more, and reveal his bride.

He prepares himself for the sight of her, but when the doors swing open, guards standing on either side of her, he thinks himself a fool for ever thinking he’d be prepared for the sight of her dressed in a white gown that trails behind her in a sea of golden embroidery that gleams just as his does. Like the life that burns in him also burns in her, despite the way her shadows carve out the angles of her face, the bridge of her nose.

He knew her dress would compliment him, of course, but he hadn’t anticipated just how much it would take his breath away, to see himself standing before a kingdom, waiting for her slow, graceful steps to come to a stop as she neared him.

Her own fur-lined mantle was just as carefully draped over her, and it went down the length of her train, the fabric moving along with her as if it were just water rippling along rocks. Slow, elegant, natural. Like she was born to be this.

For the first time, her arms are bare before him, and the skin below her jaw is as well. Her unexpected bareness exposes things he hadn’t known were hiding beneath her long sleeves and high collars. The shadows that run in her blood wrap around her arms, weaving like vines up across her chest and down into unknown territory, still hidden from his sight and touch. He swallows roughly at the sight of the image she creates before him, her head tilted back ever so slightly just to maintain his gaze as she steps up before him, her hands immediately reaching to lay in his proffered palms.

He can’t find his voice in time to tell her that she looks beautiful. To make vows to her before they’ve even started.

The king clears his throat quietly, raising his hand in a silent gesture that has the guests taking their seats once more.

“People of Riverend, we gather here to witness the joining of two souls. To celebrate a love that withstands life, death, and everything in between. A love forged in shadows and cradled by the moon, that blossoms beneath the sun. It is my honor to stand before you all and mark the start of our future here in these cherished lands beneath their incoming rule.”

The king shifts, turning slightly to look at Klaus directly. “Lord Mikaelson, repeat after me: I offer my soul to you in exchange for yours, and vow to love and cherish you long after we return to the stars,”

Klaus swallows and wets his lips, meeting Nyxia’s gleaming eyes. “I offer my soul to you in exchange for yours,” His voice trembles slightly, and her fingers press into his wrist, squeezing reassuringly. “And vow to love and cherish you long after we return to the stars.”

Nyxia mirrors his swallow, seemingly biting back her own emotion. “I offer my soul to you in exchange for yours,” Her pulse stutters beneath his fingertips, and his blood burns with it. “And vow to love and cherish you long after we return to the stars.”

“As witnessed by your people, do you both promise to serve them to the best of your abilities? To bleed with them, or for them, shall it one day be necessary? To feed and clothe them, and wash the dirt off of their feet, should they ever ask you to?”

They both nod once. “We do,”

The King mirrors their nod and continues. “May this marriage be protected by the powers that be. May it never bend or break, or waver in even the strongest of storms. May you both know one another’s love like no other. May the darkness protect you as it has protected others since the dawn of time,”

The king takes in a short breath and shifts, holding his hands up for his palms to face the sunlight gleaming in through the stained glass windows. “By the power entrusted unto me, I bless this marriage for the years to come. I now pronounce you husband and wife. Lord Mikaelson, you may kiss–”

“Stop this nonsense!”

Gasps echo throughout the throne room and Klaus’s blood freezes as his head snaps over, his gaze locking onto his father’s immediately.

The man at the end of the aisle takes a step forward, a mean smirk on his face. “Is it not utter blasphemy to make a king out of a bastard?”

Klaus breathes out a breath that shudders in his lungs painfully, and he looks past Nyxia to find Rebekah standing frozen in her place, tears bubbling in her eyes at the sight of Mikael. He doesn’t need to look at Elijah to know that the man is likely boiling with barely stifled rage.

Mikael takes another step forward and Klaus flinches back instinctively, despite the distance that stretches between them.

The man laughs at the sight, and Klaus finally looks at Nyxia, only to find her glaring at his father like her very gaze could burn him into ash.

“You have no business being here, Mikael,” Elijah’s voice bites out the words from behind him and he hears his brother take a step down, quick to be a buffer between him and Klaus. “Leave now, and you will not face any consequences.”

Mikael laughs again. “And from whom would these consequences be dealt? You? Or perhaps Rebekah?” The girl flinches, tears skittering down her flushed cheeks at his ridicule. “Certainly not Klaus. He’s not capable of it.”

“It will be me,” Nyxia’s voice rings out, firm and cold in a way that Klaus hasn’t heard it before, not even in their worst moments. “You will not speak of my husband in that manner. I’ll have your head for treason if you’re not careful.”

“You’d take my head for him?” Mikael’s brows raise like he’s actually surprised at the prospect. “I hate to break it to you, girl, but he is nothing. He comes from no high standing, he has no riches and nothing to give you in exchange for all that you give him. Whatever he has told you in those regards is a filthy lie. That’s all he is– a liar.”

Hot tears burn at the back of Klaus’s eyes and he struggles to find his voice again.

Nyxia drops his hands and Klaus fronts at the loss of her touch, only to reach for her as she turns and steps towards Mikael, unwavering beneath his hateful glare. “Don’t,” He gets out, pulling her back by her arm. “Do not go near him.”

She wrenches her arm from his hold, looking at him apologetically before she hardens her gaze once more and faces his father. “You come to my kingdom and interrupt my wedding to spew nonsense. You have the looks of a crazed man, Mikael. I should have my sentries imprison you until I find it worth my time to sentence you.”

He grins like her words are a challenge. “I’d like to see you try, Princess,” He spits her title out and before anyone can blink, he holds the tip of a dagger beneath her chin.

Gasps of fear ring out through the room and Klaus stumbles forward, stopped only by Elijah holding him just out of their father’s reach. “Do not touch her!” He growls out the words, black veins crawling beneath his eyes, earning a mocking chuckle from the man.

“Don’t tell me you actually love her, Niklaus,”

Klaus says nothing, which is answer enough, and it earns another round of derisive laughter from the man.

“What a ridiculous thing, love,” He tsks his tongue, shaking his head as if scolding his bastard son. “Nothing but a weakness to someone like you who is already softened by his childish emotions. It’s nice to know that you’re still such a disappointment, Niklaus.”

Klaus lunges for the man but is once again stopped by his brother.

“Klaus,” It’s Nyxia who says his name, which calms the racing of his heart in his ears, and he looks at her desperately. “Do you trust me?”

His brows furrow deeply, lines twisting onto his pale skin. “What?”

She gives him another look that conveys an apology he doesn’t need, and he feels his stomach swoop with fear.

“Nyx,” He breathes out, eyes wide as he starts to shake his head.

She rolls her eyes away from him like it pains her to do so, and looks to his father, uncaring of the tip of the dagger digging into her chin. “I told you I would bleed for you, Klaus. And I shall.”

She takes one long step forward and latches her hand around the handle of the dagger and digs her nails into Mikael’s skin, earning a grunt of annoyance from the man. In the blink of an eye, a cloud of black consumes them, and the last thing Nyxia hears is Klaus’s yell for her to stop.

Her hold on Mikael falters and they fall away from each other, thrown into shadows and thrown apart in the same breath.

It’s been centuries since she’s been here. Encased in nothingness, something that cannot even be considered night because it is so dark it does nothing but swallow the life that enters it.

She hears Mikael’s breathing through the darkness and hears him struggle to find footing as she does the same.

“You,” She speaks out, voice echoing into the void. Swarming around them like a crow’s call. “You have tarnished his soul. You are the darkness that exists inside of him, and I am going to rip every inch of life out of you even if it kills me.”

“Such meaningful threats,” The man speaks back, voice tinged in that smugness that sets her nerves alight with rage. “To think that you have fallen in love with a man like Niklaus. You could have such potential if you weren’t clinging to frivolous emotions.”

“You underestimate me, Mikael. You mock me, even now, when you are surrounded by something that does not exist without me and my power. It is your arrogance that will kill you, and I will offer your heart on a platter to my husband as a wedding gift.”

She lunges for the sound of him in the void, grunting as they blindly swing for each other, slamming fists and swinging daggers over and over with no sign of stopping.

She doesn’t know how long she was in this place the last time. Doesn’t know how long they’ve been here now. It could be mere seconds, it could be years. Nothing exists in this place, especially not time.

Blood from a cut that is already healed trails down her cheek, she can feel the wetness as she brushes her fingers along her skin. She can hear Mikael’s ragged breaths, her endless onslaught of pain catching up to him.

“He’s an abomination,” Mikael spits out. “Not just in name, but as a creature. It is not enough that he has no soul as this undead thing, but he has that mutt inside of him, waiting to be unleashed. He doesn’t deserve to live.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” She bites back, lips curling in a snarl. “But I do. And he will live with me until the Earth takes its last breath. And you will never take anything from him again, so long as I am at his side. You will never hurt your children again. I am taking back the darkness that is inside of you. I am taking the very air from your lungs,”

She tackles him blindly, knees pinning him down as she presses her hands roughly down onto his chest, her fingertips itching with heat as she does exactly that. “You will know pain like you’ve never known before where you are going. And with everything in me, I swear that I will not let there be a day that goes by that you do not suffer.”

The shadows that warm her skin crawl as she takes his life little by little, and she can feel his breaths begin to shallow with every word she speaks.

“Let your last thought on this Earth be the knowledge that I love your son, Mikael. And not even you can take that from him.”

A scream tears from her throat as she lifts her hands off of his chest and slams them back down, his body disappearing beneath her as if it had never existed. A burst of energy explodes from her and she nearly falls onto her face, catching herself on her hands and knees as it blows around her like a gust of wind.

She grits her teeth, trying to catch her breath as the void grows smaller around her, trying to swallow her whole as it had Mikael. But she had let it have Mikael. She would not let it have her. Not when she had something to go back to. Someone.

“No,” She bites out, jaw clenched tight enough that her bones creak. “You will let me go back.”

She digs her nails into the nothingness beneath her hands, skin scraping off at the fight it puts back. She lifts her hands from the void and brings them back down, clawing at it like a rabid animal.

“Let me out,” She says. Demands. “Let me out!”

Her voice echoes on a yell and she feels a scream build deep in her chest as she clenches her hands into fists and brings them down onto the ground, and she can feel it begin to crack beneath her force.

The ache in her hands grows with each hit but she doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, not even as the first cracks of light bleed through.

With just that sliver of light, she can see the broken skin of her hands and it’s such a guttural reminder of her past that she raises her hands once more and brings them down onto the shattering void with a strength she did not know she possessed.

All at once she is thrown out of the darkness and she flinches at the burst of brightness that encases her so suddenly. The sound of startled gasps and fearful noises makes her stumble and she tries and subsequently fails to get to her feet, her bloodied hands smearing along the pristine white aisle she had walked down.

Arms encase her and she turns her head to meet Klaus’s gaze as he pulls her into his chest, eyes wide in fear at the sight of her blood, no doubt mixed with some of Mikael’s that likely splattered onto her at some point in their tussle.

“Where did you go? What did you do?” He breathes out, eyes brimming with tears. “Where is Mikael?”

She lets out a shuddering noise as she clings to him, staining his surcoat with blood. “I took it back,” She grits her teeth, fire burning in her eyes for a split second before her exhaustion wipes it out. “I took my darkness back from him, and I turned him into nothing.”

Klaus makes a noise of grief that she knows is not for his father, but for the thought of her doing something he knows weakens her.

“I’m alright,” She assures him, finally looking past him at her kingdom that watches on warily. “I’m alright, I promise.”

Klaus holds onto her tighter like he’s scared she’ll disappear again, and she lets him as exhaustion weighs her down.

She smiles suddenly, breathless and hopeful. “We aren’t finished here,” Her eyes shift to the king, who hurries towards them, kneeling slightly. “We were interrupted.”

Klaus mirrors her smile, much more reserved even as his fear dissolves. “We were, weren’t we?”

“Finish it,” She looks up at the king from her place in Klaus’s lap in the aisle. “Please, finish it.”

The king barely takes a moment before he lets his voice carry like he had before, unwavering as if nothing had happened at all. “Without further ado, Lord Mikaelson, you may kiss your bride.”

Klaus barely lets him finish speaking before he kisses her, stealing the breath from her lungs as she gasps into it. Starlight burns in her and she raises her hand to gently cup his cheek, pulling him into her for one hard press of their lips before she pulls away, letting her hand fall from his cheek to rest against his heart.

She turns her face into his neck and whispers into his skin, her breath making goosebumps grow in its wake. “My name,” She says. “I want you to have it.”

He echoes it back to her softly, like he’s cradling it in his hands, and she looks up at him with stars in her eyes.

The king speaks from above them, an excitement laced in his voice as he lifts his hands above his hand. “It is my honor to introduce to you for the first time, the Prince and Princess of Riverend!”

Cheers burst around them, and Klaus dips his head down to hide his smile in her hair, and she clings to him just a bit tighter, her eyes fluttering.

“Let us celebrate!” The king exclaims, another round of cheers echoing after his words.

She pulls back slightly to look at Klaus, smiling. “I love you, Klaus,”

He lets out a breath like she’s knocked it out of him. “I love you,” He hesitates before saying her name like he’s worried she’ll take it back from him. “I'll love you until the end of time. Never doubt that."

"I won't."

#klaus mikaelson #the vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson #the vampire diaries fanfiction #rebekah mikaelson #the originals #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson angst #stefan salvatore #damon salvatore #kol mikaelson

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gwenllian-in-the-abbey · 10 months ago

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There's this weird thing going on Reddit right now where people are claiming that legally, Rhaenyra children are not bastards. And I was wondering if you agree or disagree. I think that people are just making up their own canon lore at this point.

Hi anon,

I think what gets kind of muddled in this discussion is what "legally" means in the context. Generally speaking, children born within wedlock are considered legitimate until proven otherwise. Now in the medieval world, it's not like you were issued a birth certificate that you could whip out and say see, it says right here who the father is! There were no DNA tests, it was all a matter of word, and by and large a woman's virtue was her word, and it was what kept her and her children protected within the framework of medieval marriage. But the reason why bastardy matters in this context is also important. It's not like Rhaenyra is trying to collect child support here, nor is she a common merchant's wife whose husband has decided just to roll with it. She's the heir to the throne and the parentage of her children is a matter of inheritance and dynastic succession, so it's not a situation where a legal loophole is particularly helpful as a gotcha. There is not at this point in history a comprehensive codified law that clearly defines what these terms mean and defines the rights and obligations of parents and children legitimate and illegitimate, mostly you have combinations of precedent, tradition, oath, and a healthy dose of might makes right.

(I saw another reply to this question in which the responded basically goes, "free yourself from the shackles of this construct! Marriage isn't real it's an oppressive institution and the idea of bastardy is made up, so let it go," and while it's true that marriage, legitimacy, etc. are all social constructs and not absolute states of being, they started off as having a functional purpose within a certain social framework. And this is a basic problem a lot of people have with George's world, it's not that we have to have the views of a 12th century French peasant, or that everything has to be historically accurate, but George chose the medieval world as a setting for a reason, and it's not just an aesthetic one. Characters in even a quasi-historical setting have to act within the constraints of that setting. We have to understand that people don't know what they don't know. The medieval world doesn't have any framework for the introduction of feminist ideals. Westeros hasn't even had a Christine de Pizan yet. You couldn't walk up to a medieval peasant woman and say "marriage is a tool of patriarchal oppression and bastardy is a social construct," they'd look at you like you had two heads. And so we have to acknowledge that you can't simply start dismantling existing social structures if the framework doesn't exist to replace them with something better that offers more protections for a broader group of people, and at this point it definitely doesn't. Making an exception for one very privileged woman does not mean progress for all women, instead it often means destabilization of the flawed system that does exist, and even more violence against those less powerful in order to enforce the exceptional status).

So from a medieval point of view, marriage was pretty much a non-negotiable for a woman. And women weren't simply getting married because they were pressured into it by their families or because their fathers were opportunistic assholes, they got married because unmarried women had no legal status or standing. In most places they could not sign contracts or own land. A woman could join the church or get married (or become a prostitute, but it's not like sex workers had freedoms or protections either). Divorce wasn't a thing, and annulment was hard to get and usually available only as a tool for men to set aside their wives. So, for all intents and purposes, once you were married, that was generally it, you were stuck for life (the upside is that widows did get a lot more freedom, so marrying an older guy and waiting it out was not a bad option sometimes, all things considered). But what marriage did provide was assurance that you and your children would be protected and provided for. Marriage was a practical agreement, involving dowries, inheritances, and alliances sealed in blood. And this is one of the reasons why bastards could not inherit. Inheritance for once's children was one of the few perks of a marriage for a woman (this is, incidentally, why Alicent is so pressed about her children being effectively disinherited. There is NO reason for her, as an eligible maiden of good standing, to marry a man who will not provide for her sons, king or not). And of course, a man's bastards are obvious and are disqualified from inheriting (setting aside legitimization because it is not nearly the easy out that people think it is). You can't really pass them off as legitimate because your wife clearly knows which children she gave birth to, whereas a man might be told he is the father of a child when that child's father is in fact someone else.

In a dynastic marriage, all of this becomes even more important. Marriages were made as alliances and to strengthen the ties between kingdoms or houses. A child seals the marriage agreement by binding two bloodlines and creating kinship bonds that will last beyond the current generation. Those kinship bonds can ensure peace between kingdoms at war, trade agreements, and military aid. Passing a bastard off as trueborn breaks that agreement; it violates the very principle by which the agreement was made. And in this context, it doesn't actually matter if the father claims the children as his, because in a dynastic marriage inheritance is not just a personal matter, it's a matter of the state. The truth matters to a great many people, more than just the immediate family. A lie doesn't become the truth simply because the liar isn't caught, and there's no statute of limitations or court ruling that will ever put the matter to rest for good. Passing off a bastard as trueborn destabilizes the succession and breaks the dynastic bonds that the marriage was meant to establish. When the bastard heir in question attempts to take the throne, it won't be a smooth transition.

So what does it mean that Laenor and Corlys agree to pass Rhaenyra's children off as trueborn? It means that their bastardy cannot be proven at the moment insofar as the legal father, Rhaenyra's husband, is playing along and covering for Rhaenyra, and Viserys is backing them up by giving this his "legal" stamp of approval. But again, our view that it's no one else's business but Laenor and Rhaenyra's and that Viserys "legalized" their status is very modern. Jaehaeyrs and Alysanne were not considered married in the eyes of the Westerosi until they'd had a bedding ceremony, that is, the consummation of their marriage was witnessed. Royal marriages and the children that come from them are a public matter because the succession affects everyone in the realm. Laenor, Corlys, and Viserys can protect those children in the short term, but Laenor and Corlys and Viserys won't live forever, and they could withdraw their support for those children and renounce them as bastards at any time. Harwin could admit to fathering them, Rhaenyra and Harwin could get caught in the act, or someone else close to them might confess. Sure right now the black faction are all one big happy family, but 20 years down the line when bastard Jace takes the throne over trueborn Aegon III? There are multiple people in the family who could confess to knowledge of the bastardy, including Aegon III himself. The bastardy is too obvious and there are too many legitimate heirs of both house Targaryen and house Velaryon getting pushed aside in favor of bastard born children for it to be an issue that simply disappears because Rhaenyra and Laenor say so.

So "legal bastardy" is a pretty meaningless concept when it comes to royal succession because it's not a matter that's going to be settled by some neutral third party in a court of law. What matters in the long run is not whether or not Laenor claimed the kids, what matters is whether or not the situation is questionable enough that people with the power to challenge it might challenge it. And we see even within the actual narrative of the Dance that this is indeed the case. There is already a situation brewing with the other branches of the Velaryon family who are rightfully pretty pissed to see their ancestral seat pass to someone with no blood ties to the family (and as an aside, people will say Vaemond was self-serving, and of course he was, but that doesn't make him wrong, and maybe Baela or Rhaena should have inherited instead, but neither they nor their father were pressing their claims because they were backing up the bastard claimants, so was Vaemond supposed to do that for them?). And yes the king and Rhaenyra can cry treason and they can kill Vaemond and cut out tongues, but using force to silence people for telling the objective truth is by definition tyranny, and that's exactly the sort of situation that would get the nobility nervous. Because if Rhaenyra has to silence people already and she's not even queen yet, what will Jace have to do when he takes the throne? That's the real problem, not the "legal" status of Jace and his brothers, but the practical ramifications of hiding the truth.

#asks #the strong boys #hotd discourse #bastardy #team green #anti team black

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pennink-witch · 7 months ago

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Found a post talking about this but now it's nowhere to be seen, so I'm making my own. This is basically a long way of saying, 'I want to write a historically-accurate medieval fantasy'.

Teenage marriage and pregnancy were not normal in medieval Europe

A lot of fantasy writers depict the whole of medieval society like it was a competition to get young women knocked up. In fact, in the early modern period, the average age for marriage was around 26. This is skewed by the number of widows and widowers remarrying, but even taking that into account, the average age isn't anything we would find unusual today.

Early marriage is often (I'm looking at you, Mercedes Lackey), depicted as something peasants did as well as the gentry and nobility, but in fact peasants tended not to do this. Men would usually wait until they had some means of supporting a family before they started looking for one.

Nor were the nobles always palming their children off to older spouses. Betrothals from a young age were common, but the actual marriage was usually carried out later. There's also a difference between the marriage ceremony and the consumation (i.e. sex). If a political marriage became an incovenience, it could be annulled and one of the reasons that could be given was that it hadn't been consummated. (Side note: Another reason was degrees of familiarity. In theory, the Church prohibited marriage between people with up to seven degrees of kinship, which is waaaaay more stringent than we have now.)

The reason, I think, this myth has come about is partly because the legal age for marriage was itself quite low: 12 for boys and 13 for girls. But that's just the lowest age it was possible, it doesn't mean that everyone got married at that age.

I also suspect (and this is just supposition) that Marion Zimmer Bradley and her ilk might have something to do with it. Her most famous book, The Mists of Avalon, has been hugely popular and influential for years, but it does use the early/child marriage thing to a very weird degree. It creeped me out so much I had to top reading it and give the book away. This probably has something to do with the fact that she was also connected to a paedophile case. Possibly not the best source for medieval sexual mores.

#medieval #fantasy #historical inaccuracy #i love writers but deplore their historical research #historian #fantasy writing #medieval fantasy #writing #writing tips

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danyseastar · 11 months ago

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On the topic of Rhaenyra having bastards, I think it’s pretty obvious that if she was going to have to have bastards she’d need to find a man who was willing to have his kids passed off as another man’s and not be a snitch to that fact. It would also need to be someone who could be around her constantly without drawing suspicion. As her sworn shield, Harwin wasn’t a terrible choice to fulfill those exact needs. Rhaenyra was just unlucky in the looks department, something she had no control over and overall didn’t matter. There was no way to prove that her children weren’t Laenor’s, due to paternity tests not magically existing during that time. The definition of bastard is a child born to parents who are not wed to each other, with no legal father (and before someone pops up with ‘Actually!! They’d have to be proclaimed bastards to be legitimized!’ I am begging you to pick up a history book). Her children are trueborn, they were born during her marriage to Laenor and legally he is their father because he claimed them as his. One could spend their time arguing semantics over the matter, but it would be a waste of time.

Her children’s last name is Velaryon, not Waters, like it should be in canon if they were indeed bastards. They live and die as the trueborn children between Rhaenyra and Laenor. Bastardy is considered to be a legal status during that time, not a state of being. One either is a bastard at birth or is not a bastard at birth. Contrary to what a few in the fandom believe nobody besides Alicent and her direct ilk viewed them as bastards and therefore undeserving of their station. Even Septon Eustace refutes all of these claims, and he makes it very clear throughout his testimony that he HATES Rhaenyra. It was a tactical move by the immediate members of the Green faction to sully and ruin Rhaenyra’s reputation (something used time and time again during the medieval days because it was the easiest way to take down a woman vying for power), to prove that she was unworthy of the throne as opposed to the candidate they wanted crowned. It didn’t work, considering most of the houses supported Rhaenyra over Aegon despite these rumors.

Rhaenyra’s ‘bastard’ heir, Jacaerys Velaryon, was mourned deeply by members of both Team Black and Team Green and heralded by many as worthy of the Iron Throne, so please, continue spewing your biased rhetoric of the Greens being justified in starting an entire civil war, plunging the realm into chaos, over Rhaenyra having supposed bastards, when that never happened. The rumors didn’t matter. No one cared. The realm was not plunged into war because of them, it was because of Team Green’s lust and greed for power. The entirety of those rumors is a red herring. In all honesty, the only reason I believe GRRM made those boys potentially bastards is to prove to the reader that being worthy to rule does not rely on whether one is trueborn. Aegon was trueborn and unworthy to rule. Jacaerys was rumored to not be trueborn and he was worthy. It’s not GRRM’s fault that some individuals who consume his stories aren’t intelligent enough to understand that.

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bobbinbugs · 3 months ago

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Entrapment: marriage, sacrifices, and gilded cages in Silksong

This is a massive, fully-sourced essay encompassing all the marriage symbolism we have for Silksong and the full breadth of its connotations. This thing is a beast in five parts: mind that readmore!

Part 1: a presentation of evidence

Rather than diving right into analysis, we need to set the stage with information gathered and analyzed by the talented people of the HK tumblr community, to whom this would not be possible without.

Hornet starts the game captured in a gilded cage, carried off by small, faceless creatures in white. as pointed out by ganymeadesclock, these characters are most likely religious figures, and Lace, while not one of the cultists, is most likely associated with them... somehow.

Furthermore, marriage symbolism. I won't reiterate myself overmuch, so look here, here, and here for various pieces I've managed to collect. No matter how you slice it, Lace is absolutely drowning in marriage symbolism, right down to her name. It does feel quite notable, then, that Hornet and Lace have similar cages, don't they? Lace's quite strongly resembles a decorative birdcage, actually, and Hornet's a fishbowl; (Aside: though the latter is a bit of a stretch.) enclosures too small to support an animal's wellbeing, but perfect for displaying them. Almost like, perhaps, a trophy bride?

Part 2: marriage as a gilded cage

This was going to have a excerpt from my essay on the unicorn tapestries, but it's already long enough as is. This segment and the following cannot analyze Silksong directly due to lack of information, but we can draw throughlines from the classic and epic literature Team Cherry draws inspiration from, and the history surrounding them.

Marriage has traditionally been a transfer of property throughout much of our world, not an act of love between two consenting parties. While a married woman would have the freedom to manage her husband's property in his absence, when he was around, she belonged to him; in marrying, she transfers from her father's ownership to her husband's. Marriage has been a total sacrifice of freedom for a woman in exchange for her "safety," which, considering how difficult it is to leave domestic abuse (Aside: Even more so in the times where woman could not own property or money, and divorce was not legal), is a perfect example of gilded cage.

This is a summary, and I recommend checking out these pieces on marriage abolition and medieval marriage culture for further context. Primarily, I'm trying to convey a certain degree of dread to emphasize why Hornet may be running herself ragged in Pharloom: her freedom may be deeply at stake.

Aside: There's also a throughline of queerness and the imprisonment of heterosexual marriage, and how it may relate to Lace attempting to free her and why Lacenet could be both canon and fascinating, but I won't delve into it here.

Part 3: A foray into ancient greece: marriage as a sacrifice

If you're a Greek mythology nerd like me, you may have noticed an odd connecting thread between Persephone, Psyche, and Antigone. All three are connected by their status as young virgin brides, but also by perversion of marriage rites in their stories. Persephone is abducted to the underworld (the land of the dead) and bound forever to a man via eating pomegranate seeds: a symbolic "seeding" (read: impregnation) if you will. Psyche, when taken away to be married, has instead funeral rites conducted for her, and she spends her honeymoon afraid of the invisible monster she married. And last, Antigone, the death-bride marching towards her funeral-wedding, thigh to thigh with her brother in the grave.

Present along the same thread is imagery of distraught mothers and sisters: Persephone's mother grieves and wails and sets a blight on the earth searching for her daughter; Psyche's sisters weep to leave her on the rock; Ismene tries to share the blame of Antigone's crime, punishable by death, so she would not be without her sister, or vice-versa.

A few feminist interpretations have been offered, but the most common is that to a Grecian mother, her daughter has been taken away from her home, never to be seen again. A marriage, to a sister or mother, is a sacrifice: A young girl is taken away from the comfort of her household into a scary, unfamiliar world, where she must learn quickly about herself and her body without the guidance of people - particularly women - she knows and loves.

Don't forget, either, that rape did not initially refer strictly to sexual assault, but the act of kidnapping a girl as a marriage rite. (Aside: The bride's consent does not matter; only her father's. Why do you think the term evolved to mean sexual violence?)

Sound familiar?

And the perversion of the marriage rite doesn't end there. Churches, a notable location in Pharloom, don't just marry people; they are also where funerals are conducted. And, if you listen to the Silksong trailer, you will hear the Dies Irae - the Funeral Mass - note for note.

But the perversion of the rite does not end there. Even more disturbing is the presence of consumption as a theme. As I said here:

Oh I am THINKING about Silksong tonight... How Lace says “Poor little morsel” and “delicious,” implying not only Pharloom would consume her, Lace is on the side of what’s doing the consuming. How spiders frequently feed on their own kind, especially in massive community web systems... whatever’s up with Pharloom, it’s going to eat Hornet alive.

A sacrifice, in its most traditional sense, is to give a deity sustenance, at an expense, in exchange for the prosperity of the many.

Part 4: Lace as Κανηφόρος and her religious duties: wild speculation!

Let's revisit Lace as a religious figure - and a potentially important often. If Hornet is the sacrifice, what does that make Lace?

From wikipedia:

The Kanephoros ... was an honorific office given to unmarried young women in ancient Greece, which involved the privilege of leading the procession to sacrifice at festivals ... The role was given to a virgin selected from amongst the aristocratic or Eupatrid families of Athens whose purity and youth was thought essential to ensure a successful sacrifice. Her task was to carry a basket or kanoun (κανοῦν), which contained the offering of barley or first fruits, the sacrificial knife and fillets to decorate the bull in procession through the city up to the altar on the acropolis. ... A girl who acted as kanephoros would have advertised the central place of her family in Athenian society, and her own availability for a dynastic marriage.

Wait, up through the city? That sounds...

Hornet, princess-protector of Hallownest, finds herself alone in a vast, unfamiliar world. She must battle foes, seek out allies, and solve mysteries as she ascends on a deadly pilgrimage to the kingdom’s peak.

...Awfully familiar.

And, interestingly, whatever ritual centering around Hornet we're spiraling towards, Hornet seems to be willfully - if unknowingly - marching towards it, and Lace seems intent on stopping it in its tracks.

I suspect she will not only be the rival won over role, but the betrayer. Lace is not to be wedded, but Hornet. Lace's role is to sacrifice Hornet at the proper time and place, and her goal before then is to stop Hornet from doing so, by any means necessary.

The final battle will almost certainly involve Lace, and in the worst ending, she will most likely be the one to deal the final blow and complete the rite. We're in pure speculative territory, but we already have the visual symbolism that Lace is just as trapped as Hornet. What is a betrayal if not duty, or a desire to save her own skin, winning over compassion?

Part 5: Disclaimers, Clarifications, and Conclusions

This is not to say I think this will be a recreation of Grecian ritual. Far from it: I don't even claim that marriage and misogyny will be a theme in anything other than visual symbolism, and I strongly doubt hornet's skill and status will ever be disputed due to her womanhood. Simply not Team Cherry's style! Until Silksong comes out, this is mere extrapolation.

But through Team Cherry's strong visual storytelling, I feel confident drawing allusions. The crushing prison of gilded cages, the marriage imagery, the subtle perversion of rite in the trailer, all spells out one thing:

Hornet is to be married or sacrificed.

But then again, what's the difference?

A special thank you to the minds of @ganymedesclock, my mutual @rukafais, and @ruthlesslistener, whose analysis was crucial to piecing this massive theory/analysis together. And for my mutuals who might be interested: @voidsiblings, @halloween-cats, @imminent-danger-came, @croissantk, @electricabsolution, and @toapenguin

#lace #hornet #lacenet #silksong #hollow knight silksong #hollow knight meta #silksong meta #meta #bobbinbugs originals

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misguidedasgardian · 2 years ago

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The Winter Sun (17)

17. Dark Wings, Dark Words

MASTERLIST

Summary: In the middle of the happiest yet most tiring days of your lives you receive dark news

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoiaf customs, AGE GAP (Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, mentions of death, death of a King, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3.4 k

Notes: You might not like what is coming

“He is the most beautiful baby I have ever seen!”, shrieked Sara, “hello little one!”, she cooed, “hello there!”, she tried to tickle him with his fingers and you giggled loudly, “he is the cutest nephew!”

“Your only nephew!”, mocked Cregan

“Mmmm, can I hold him?”, she asked you, excited

“Of course my dear sister”, you said, Cregan grabbed Rickon and placed him on Sara’s awaiting arms

“Just like in my dreams”, she whispered

“What?”, you asked

“Nothing” she giggled, she rocked him gently, as her eyes didn't leave his little reddened face, “he is so sweet”

“He is”, you said, you couldn’t believe you had actually made him, he was the cutest baby you had ever seen, ever, perhaps you were being biased, but you felt he was.

Cregan thought the same, but again, you were the parents of the baby so…

But now Sara said it

You giggled as you watched her with the sweetest smile ever, cooing at her nephew, they were bonding, and you loved it.

Cregan sat by your side on the bed, he insisted you stayed there for at least a week, even though you didn’t think you needed to. You had given birth only yesterday, today you had raised from the bed to get cleaned and dressed, so, now your dear husband made you sat down again, to introduce Sara to her newborn nephew

Those sweet moments did compensate for the bad ones, you believed, like the nights as a new mother.

Cregan woke up as quickly as you did when you heard your baby crying, it was pitch black outside, to it was the middle of the night

You were so tired, you haven't been sleeping much, Rickon got fuzzy at night, and he liked to let you know it. You picked him up from his crib with tired tears in your eyes, and cradling him against your chest, you sat on the bed, tired out of your mind. You uncovered one of your breasts, and he latched on right away, You let out a whimper of pain and tiredness, and Cregan was there in a second

He took your shoulders softly, inviting you to lay down, you knew you couldn’t feed him while you were laying down, but that wasn’t what he meant

He sat on the bed with his legs spread, and he invited you to sit between them, and when you leaned back, he was there to catch you gently, cuddling you, so you could rest your tired body on him.

“You are such a good mother”, he whispered, knowing full well there were wet nurses and nannies that could take care of Rickon, especially at night, but… you had insisted on attending your son yourself. “I love you”, he said, kissing the top of your head, “and I love our son so much”

“We love you too”, you whispered, as RIckon fed from you hungrily,

“And I love those little sounds he makes”, he chuckled. Rickon was grunting and sucking on you hungrily, his noises were indeed very cute.

He held you, Cregan held you, stayed up with you.

Your heart clenched when you thought there were husbands who didn’t show a tenth of the love that Cregan showed you, nor the support

“Cregan”, you called, and he looked at you with soft eyes, but when he heard the way you called him, he frowned slightly

“What, my love?”, he asked softly

“I was thinking”, you started, cradling you baby against your chest, “If you’d like, you can visit the brothel in Winter’s Town”, you said dismissively, he gasped, his cheeks turned red

“What?”, he asked, nervous

“You heard me”, you said with a giggle, and then you sighed, “We were having a lot of sex, and we have two long moons in front of us, so if you need to… blow out some steam, I understand”, he only smiled, leaning in and arranging one wild lock of silver hair behind your ear

“Only you can make me want to have so much sex”, he laughed, “nobody else”, your cheeks reddened

“Really?”, he only nodded

“I have never felt this way before, this need to have you constantly, it is only because it's you”, he whispered, leaning in and kissing your forehead

That was not going to be true soon enough, you didn’t look like you did nine months ago, or a week ago, your belly did returned to their normal size, but now it had loose skin, and stretch marks, you tried to fight back the tears because Cregan wouldn’t want you anymore once he saw you again.

“You should sleep my love”, you said gently

“If you are not sleeping, neither am I”, he said gently, kissing the side of your face

Eventually you did fall asleep, you on top of Cregan and Rickon on top of you both

The very next morning found you whining in bed, the sun was shining through the clouds, the first time you have seen it in months, since it was always covered in clouds filled with snow and frosted rain

Cregan was starting the fire on the chimney, when he noticed you were awake, he smiled warmly at you

“We have received a raven”, he said, “the first one, from King’s landing, I don’t have a clue how the poor creature managed to arrive”, he chuckled

“What does it say?”, you asked, in wonder

“I wanted to wait for you”, he said softly. Cregan stood up and leaned over Rickon’s crib to drop a kiss on the baby, and then he sat right by your side on the bed.

“Ready?”, he asked, you nodded as he opened the small scroll, you both read it in silence, but as you read what it said you gasped

“My uncle is dead”, you whined, “The King is dead”, Cregan looked at you wide eyed

“I’m sorry my love, I know you cared about him deeply, he raised you”, he hugged you tightly against his chest and you received his caresses gladly

“Thank you”, you whispered, the message though, was very vague, it didn’t mention Rhaenyra, it didn’t mentioned Aegon, it simply communicated the death of the King of the seven kingdoms

“Long live Queen Rhaenyra”, you didn't even know if he was asking or telling you, but in his eyes… there was worry

You didn’t know what to do, you got dressed that day, ready to start the day as you had recuperated almost fully, you wanted to do something, anything, but you didn’t know what… Your uncle had passed, Viserys, even if he wasn't really involved he did raise you and care for you, he legitimized you, he defended you.

He wasn’t very much involved with you, but he had done all those things for you in memory of his brother

He was gone and you were never going to be able to see him again, not even for his funeral, that probably already took place, you were locked up North until the end of winter

Cregan, seeing how sad you were, did something quite nice, he arranged everyone in the castle to meet in the Godswood for a small ceremony of the Old Gods to say goodbye to King Viserys and that the Gods guide his soul to join the earth again.

And besides the sadness that crawled in your chest, there was this horrible feeling that something was about to go awfully wrong

Why was Rhaenyra not announced the heir and Queen?

Did something happen?

The lack of news really didn’t sit right with you, you feared something was really wrong, but you didn't know who to send a raven to, The Red Keep? Everyone could read it. Dragonstone? Was someone even there to read it?

Cregan felt your distress and was over you always, soothing you with his soft touches and reassuring words.

There was also Rickon, the people of the North wanted to see him, see the heir, so they took the opportunity of the ceremony to gaze upon him, in Sara’s arms, who would tell everyone

“Isn’t he the cutest baby ever?”, to anyone that came near to see him

Your worry in the days to come didn’t dwindle, if anything, it got worse.

Something was very wrong

Your worst fears came true when a dragon was spotted flying towards Winterfell.

Now the people didn't know them all, or their names but you had advised all the guards to scream the color of the beast that was approaching so you may have a clue.

So when someone screamed

“Green Dragon”, you almost collapsed into the stone.

But it was not the object of your worst nightmares.

Vermax landed heavily inside of Winterfell’s first defensive wall, being so small yet for a 19 year old dragon.

It was Jacaerys

That did something to relieve you, if he was here, it meant everyone was fine, did it not?

“I need to speak with the Lord and Lady of Winterfell”, it was the first thing he said, and in a rush, the guards let him in, as you had instructed, the only one who was banished and could come in a dragon was the one-eyed Prince.

You received him in the great hall, and you smiled warmly at him as he greeted you and Cregan

“Be welcome in Winterfell your grace”, he said firmly, “it is an honor to have you here”

“Thank you for receiving me”, he said with a shy smile.

“What brings you here nephew?”, you asked, not being rude, but you really wanted your fears to dissipate. He looked at you with fear in his dark green eyes

“I really wished it was because I wanted to meet my little cousin”, he said, looking at your missing belly, “but I have news, and a letter from Queen Rhaenyra”, you didn’t know if to feel relieved, or scared

“Please, it is customary to have a period of, greeting and small talk”, Cregan said, inviting him further into the castle, “and there is someone I’d like you to meet”

With a smile you both took him to your rooms, where Rickon was sleeping, Sara was there, and when she saw you, she smiled widely.

Jace was surprise to see her there, but he blush

“My Lady, I’m Prince Jacaerys”, he introduced himself, “it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance”

“I’m Sara”, she said, blushing as well and you couldn’t believe it, looking at them both with a sneaky smile, “Sara Snow”, she said then, looking at the ground but Jace’s smile never faded, and he took one of her hands and kissed her knuckles.

Cregan didn’t find it as adorable as you did and cleared his throat, you giggled as your husband stood by your son’s crib. Jace let go of Sara’s hand and walked towards your sleeping baby

“My prince, meet your cousin, Rickon”, your cousin’s eyes lighten up when he saw him

“He is a fine little lord”, said Jacaerys with a wide smile, looking at Rickon, “congratulations dear aunt”, he said then, looking at you, “congratulations Lord Stark!”

“Thank you my prince”, said Cregan proudly, you loved how he always seemed so proud of his newborn baby.

“I’m glad the labors where easy on you, aunt”, he said with a smile

“They were”, you assured him, even if he was visibly more relaxed, he still seemed so tense it was worrying you

“Jace, tell us what happened”, you said, and he sighed, relieved.

Cregan and you took him to were the Lord of Winterfell dealt with his personal affairs and had private audiences

“Was your mother crowned Queen?”, you asked him, “we received the news from King Viserys passing but nothing else”, you started

“Yes, and no”, he said conflictingly, “something happened”

“What happened?”, you asked back

“Following your advice, dear aunt, we packed our things and went to live to the Red Keep, to be near the King, but, I fear it was too late”, he said softly, “Grandfather’s mind was lost to him, in a constant fever, and feverish dreams, he barely recognize us”

“What happened?”

“Our stay there was very brief, and very unpleasant, like it was when we were children, the greens had make sure to replace all courtiers that had an allegiance to my mother, for faithfull and traitorous dogs aligned with House hightower”, you and Cregan and you exchanged worried looks

“Rhaenyra sat on the small council meeting but she was outwitted, outnumbered and outdated by everyone there, only Lord Beesbury was on her side but he mysteriously fell down the stairs weeks later”, you gasped, the situation being worse than you feared.

“Alicent had complete control of the Kingdoms, we tried to fight her off, Daemon tried to gain control again of the city watch, to find it rotten to its core, we had no friends, no allies”

“What happened when the King died??”, Cregan asked

“He died in the middle of the night, they locked us up in our rooms, the Keep was crawling with HIghtower soldiers, there was nothing we could do”

“For the old gods”, you whispered

“Still a group of gold cloaks still faithful to us rescued us from the Keep and we were forced to abandon it, in the night, as common thiefs”, he said, with his eyes clouded with anger and sadness

“Even if they tried to take Dragonstone, they were failing, and when we arrived with our dragons and small group of soldiers we took it back, we have been hiding there for the last week”

it was war then, you thought bitterly

“What will happen now?”, you asked quietly

“We are gathering all the great houses to our cause”, he said, “ this isn’t over”, he said, regaining his own strength and determination, “all the great houses had bend the knee to my mother, I came here to make them remember, Luke went to Storm’s End, I came here and I already went to the Eyrie”

“I’m so sorry this had happened Jace”, you whispered, “but I’m glad everyone is alright”, you said back, with a reassuring smile

“Sadly, winter is not over, I can’t call the banners, but the North remembers, and they will certainly remember that my father bend the knee to the Queen”, Cregan said with certainty, “The North is yours”, Jace smiled, content

“Thank you”, he said, visibly more relieved

“I will send ravens to the other lords of the North”, Cregan said, “the snow is melting, winter is ending, we shall have a report on the statues of their stores and provisions

“Do you think it will come to war?”, you asked, visibly upset

“Not yet”, said Jace, “my mother and Daemon believe that if we show the Greens the rest of the kingdoms are for us, the surrender will be without blood”

“The support will be enough for now, then?”, you sked, and you couldn’t hide the fact that you were relieved

“Yes”, he said certainly.

The terrible news did not help your uneasiness, and Cregan could feel it as you were preparing yourselves to bed

“You are still worried”, he said

“Our Queen has been usurped”, you said, “I’m clearly worried”, you whispered, “we are not safe as long as Aegon sits the Iron Throne”

“We are far up North”, he said, “we are safe”

“Aemond had no trouble flying up here”, you whispered, and Cregan got serious

“Listen to me, as long as I’m living, he will not touch you again”, he said softly, walking until he was in front of you, you were sitting on the bed and he kneeled in front of you, “that is a promise”

“He rides the biggest dragon in the world”, you said with worry in your eyes, “and now he is the brother of the King”

“I command the biggest army in the seven kingdoms”, he said with determination in his eyes, “a hundred thousand men that would give their lives for the lady of Winterfell” he said certainly, “and we are in the middle of winter, and you, my dear, are the cousin of the Queen”

“I know”, you said, trying to believe his words, to place them near your heart

“I sent the ravens today, I will have word from my banners soon, and we will discuss what to do, how to proceed, perhaps a show of strength will be enough to deter the Greens, with the Arryns and us, together we have a strength to overcome the rest of the five Kingdoms put together”

“You sound fairly confident”, you whispered, and his gaze softened

“I have to be”, he said, “there is too much at stake”, he whispered, and you wanted to cry, you realized then Cregan was as scared as you, or even more so

That night he held you tightly against him, nd when Rickon cried, he slept the rest of the night between his parents

A huge storm, and according to Cregan, one of the last of the season covered Winterfell, Winter’s town and everything you could see in the horizon with a thick layer of snow.

Jace was trapped within its walls with you

That cost you a week, but when the snow began to melt away, you received visitors that had made the journey, Lords and Ladies. Jace was even kind enough to use Vermax to melt the snow from the roads leading to Winterfell front he King’s Road

Lady Bolton had managed to arrive, Lord Cerwyn, the Hornwoods, and we received word that Tallheart was on his way, which gave Cregan a smile that nobody could take out of his face.

Well, except…

A raven from Dragonstone had arrived as well

And as Cregan received his guests and gathered them in the hall, Jace and you were on a small living room, when he opened the small scroll slowly, fearfully

You saw his reaction when he read those words, and his eyes filled with tears, and his face paled in shock

“What happened?”, you asked, but he didn’t answer, his gaze cloudy with tears but unfocused, “Jace!”, you called but to no avail, so you took the scroll from his unmoving hands and read those words and what you found there left you breathless as well.

You hid the whimper of pain you wanted to let out with your hand. As your eyes also filled with tears

Meanwhile, in the hall, the argument of who the North must follow was getting heated, Lords had different opinions, other than Cregans. Some Lords had hinted that they prefer a man as a ruler, others than we should stay neutral regardless of which Targaryen sat the Iron Throne, not caring at all, not when we were in the middle of a hard winter.

“If the targaryen boy sits the Iron Throne is because he could take it for himself!”, fought one lord, “it means he has the support and the strength to do it”

“So you will refuse Rhaenyra because she is a woman?”, asked lady Bolton, “how shortsided are you?”

“I am just saying, we need a strong leader as King of the seven Kingdoms!”

“Aegon can’t be King”, you sentenced, entering the room, and the lords gathered there looked at you, “he is a bad person, he is a drunk, a whoremonger, he… has raped, defiled, he is a man with no redeemable qualities, he has bastards roaming the poor streets of King’s Landing”, you whispered. you had all the attention in the room, specially those eyes who wondered why you were crying so bitterly, “and now we had received word that, the Usurper’s brother, Aemond Targaryen has slain Prince Lucerys, his own nephew, without cause or reasoning, his dragon plucked them out of the skies, unchallenged, without cause to”

You heard whispers and disapproving words from all the corners of the room, and Cregan looked at you wide eyed

“The Hightowers must be stopped!”, said Lady Bolton, and approving whispers and words could be heard

“Hail Queen Rhaenyra!” chanted another, and it echoed, soon they started stomping the tables with their feast, as all their voices rang together as they chanted

“Hail Queen Rhaenyra!”

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