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sunflowersandsapphires · 3 months

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Shadows of Fluttering Leaves

When Skies Are Gray, Chapter 7

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: Frank’s life has reached a crossroads: he can either continue to seclude himself and pursue a dark, lonely future, or he can open himself up to connecting with someone again and maybe achieve happiness. Being the grump that he is, Frank has already committed to the lonely path, but his curious new neighbor might just turn that around.

warnings: depressed reader, grief, victim blaming, implied history of sexual assault/harassment, bad parenting, not super healthy coping mechanisms

a/n: I am so sorry I've updated everything sporadically this year, y'all. I've been working really hard to stockpile updates so I'll be able to post at least biweekly for the rest of the year (if everything goes to plan!) As always, please comment/reblog to leave feedback. And a giant thank you to @gracethyomen for helping me plan this arc and make their fight more cruel. She is the queen of angst, go follow her.

w/c: 4.8k

You didn’t recall much from the past three days, but that was because there wasn’t anything to recall. After your conversation–if it could even be called that–with Frank, it was as if your soul had unstitched itself from your body. You went through your days as an emotionless husk. Your creative spark extinguished, your joy unreachable.

The walls in your building were thin enough that you could hear him moving around. Going to work and returning home to Max as if you'd never existed. Perfectly fine without you. Every heavy footfall that penetrated the rotting drywall brought a fresh sheen of tears to your eyes.

The burly marine had become such a welcomed part of your life, losing him was like losing a limb. His absence felt like a bad dream. If you focused hard enough, you could still feel his calloused hands, smell the cheap soap and spicy clove aftershave he used. But a simple exhale would wash the scent away, and you were alone again–tired, anguished, and unloved.

You drifted through the day, unsure what to do with yourself. You couldn’t bring yourself to go into work, or even communicate with Leo and Stacy for more than a brief text to prove you were still alive.

While this evening hadn’t been much different, the sight of your mom’s name flashing across the top of your phone screen as it buzzed had caused enough of an adrenaline rush to force you to chat with someone. Your throat felt sore after talking for the first time in nearly 72 hours, your vocal chords still recovering from their sudden overuse. Shuddering as you willed the memory of the call to fade, you felt the tell tale prick in the corners of your eyes.

Staring down at the damp concrete, you blinked frantically in an attempt to keep the endless tears at bay. The tilt of your head caused raindrops to drip off of your hood, rolling down your forehead. Around you, the slam of water against pavement and steel drowned out the thud of your determined footsteps. Blowing out a breath you slipped an unfeeling mask onto your face as you continued your walk to the bakery.

It wasn’t more than a few blocks from your apartment to the Rainy Day, but the beams of street lights would draw attention to your glassy eyes, and you didn’t need to highlight your fragility for any creeps that might be lurking at this hour. You'd had more than enough unwanted male attention for the week. Once you were safely behind the locked doors, you could look as broken down as you needed to.

Though you were exhausted, your confusion-and-betrayal-addled brain was still unable to rest and your hands itched to do something. Wallowing in your bed wouldn’t quell the uneasiness that speaking with your mom had ignited mere hours ago. But cooking might. At least, you hoped that was the case.

A crackle of lightning illuminated the bakery as you approached; the strike of light refracting through the windows made the place look rather sinister, draping it in oddly shaped shadows. Slipping the keys from your pocket, you tried not to cringe at the cold rain as it splattered against your exposed hand. Thunder rolled overhead as you waggled the key in the lock, finally getting the damn thing to budge enough for the door to shove open.

Stepping inside, you bolted the door behind you, using your phone flashlight to maneuver through the stacked tables and chairs as you moved to the kitchen. Before getting to work, you stripped out of your semi-drenched top and slipped into a clean t-shirt adorned with the logo of the cafe. Flicking on the overhead lights, you threw a hand up to shield your sensitive eyes as they strobed briefly before steadying into their normal bright rays. Taking a place by your preferred station, you took a moment to reflect on the tasks you had cut out for you.

Though Leo was more than capable of replicating your work if you detailed the recipes, they were happy to let you be the creative lead in your shared kitchen. As they’d mentioned multiple times over text the past few days, your absence from the space meant less variation in pastries for the bakery, and more for Leo to do. If you weren’t so emotionally depleted, you would have felt more guilty about abandoning them so suddenly.

Apparently, the emotional turmoil that talking to your mother always stirred was good for something. It had gotten you here, at least. Coating your station in a thin layer of flour, you ran through the motions of a basic croissant recipe.

You weren't quite feeling up to experimenting yet, but croissants you could do.

Soon enough, the smell of salted butter and yeast engulfed the room and your fatigued mind began to wander. Despite your best efforts to forget the comment, your mother's voice echoed in your ears.

“Really, sweetheart, what did you expect?”

The condescension in her tone clung to you like the barbs of an untrimmed rose. Your brain feebly tried to reassure you that she had no idea what she was talking about. To remind you that she didn't even know his name, that you'd told her—at most—three sentences about the whole situation.

But the majority of your brain was still reeling from the abrupt collapse of your relationship with Frank. And it was far too weak to not spiral at the implication of your mom's question.

Because, while she wasn't fully aware of who Frank was and what he meant to you, she was intimately informed of your history with men–hence her thoughtless words this evening.

Your dating history was...pitiful, to say the least. You tended to draw attention from the wrong men. Bosses, teachers, even your own relatives.

It had been your reality for as long as you could remember. As a child, whenever you'd come to your mother with another sob story about attention that you hadn't meant to attract, the blame was always placed squarely on your shoulders. Your outfits were too provocative, your actions too enticing. It didn't matter that they were the ones misunderstanding your kindness as an open invitation. It was still your fault.

Expecting her to sympathize with you when you told her you'd been grabbed by a stranger as you left the construction site was foolish. But it still hurt to know that she didn't.

What hurt more was the little voice in the back of your head that agreed with her. Knowing damn well that you'd chosen that outfit to fetch the gaze of a specific man. That the low cut neckline was meant to be provocative. That it was your fault that you'd been humiliated. That your own desperation had led to the continued phantom sensation of a large hand gripping your arm against your will.

“If you dangle bait long enough, something will bite.” She reminded you. It wasn't the ocean's fault that you'd been hoping for a specific fish.

“But I didn't want them.” You'd lamented to her. You were tired of being a plaything, a quick fuck. You wanted something more, something real. And it had turned to ash in your delicate grasp before you could so much as appreciate it.

She wasn't sympathetic. Chastising you for forgetting your place, for getting attached, for seeking love in places it didn't exist.

“Love is harder to come by when you're, well...you know.”

You slammed the ball of elastic dough onto the bench, kneading it aggressively as tears poured down your face. Your stomach twisted as it heaved with sobs, the sentiment from your mother sounding eerily similar to the curt observation that Frank had hurled at you.

You ain't my wife.

He was right. You weren't his wife. His wife was beautiful, and caring, and patient. She'd loved him, had children with him, made a home for him.

Think I'm your little boyfriend or somethin'?

Biting your lip to stifle a sob, the feeling of foolishness crested in your chest again. It was humiliating to be called out like that, especially when your naive little heart had been convinced he felt the same way.

I never wanted that.

Those words still hit you like a sock to the gut. He never wanted a relationship. He never wanted you. Your stupid feelings were clearly unrequited, but how were you supposed to know that?

Was your childhood so deprived of love that simple acts of kindness had your heart doing backflips? Were his pet names and compliments just his gentlemanly nature because he was afraid to offend you?

This was a mistake.

His sweet remarks, calling you beautiful, the constant teasing—the relationship you once had with Frank began to play in your head; the muted colors of the picture doing nothing to make your chest ache less when his face sprang to mind. Your brain continued its depressing montage: Frank smiling at you, his gruff voice lifting around the word “sunshine”, his genuine interest in your work, his daily visits to the cafe, the way he leaned into every touch you offered him. All meaningless. Just another regret.

Exhaling forcefully, you flapped your hands in an attempt to stop their trembling. If the fragile dough ripped between your fingers, it would ignite a full meltdown. Clenching the muscles in your hands, you relaxed them as you forced every thought from your head, focusing on the pliant mass beneath your rolling pin as you mashed it into a lopsided rectangle. Carefully lifting the edges of the shape, you tossed it onto the sheet pan you'd prepared as tenderly as you could. Using your fingertips to stretch it into a more appealing shape, you nodded in satisfaction, shoving the tray onto a cart and picking up your rolling pin again.

Each extension of your forearms, pressing the wooden cylinder into the raw pastry, condensing and lengthening the blob with small, stiff movements. Your elbows creaked with every stretch of the elastic dough, the swing of your arms feeling almost foreign despite being a common practice in the kitchen. A 72-hour break was too long, apparently. Any other day, you'd dance through this recipe effortlessly; Today though, every step felt choppy and hesitant, as if your brain expected you to fail again and again.

You hadn't felt this hopeless in a kitchen since the last few weeks of your atrocious entrepreneurial experience years ago. Yet another example of you being too trusting, too optimistic.

Your mouth flooded with the metallic tang of blood as your teeth dug into the flesh of your cheek, halting the choking despair that threatened to drag you down to the linoleum floor. You wanted to give in; your brain was still a ball of exhausted mush incapable of handling your day-to-day tasks.

Sloppily prepping a few more trays for their initial rise, you shoved the croissant dough onto the proofing cart and out of sight. The smell of yeast usually made you happy, but the biting edge of the scent was turning your stomach. It was becoming increasingly clear that you'd thrown yourself into your work without the stability to handle the sensory input of the bakery. Your head was pulsing because of the fluorescent lights, the whir of the electric mixer rattling your ear drums. Once the sticks of butter you'd added to the stainless steel bowl of the machine were smooth, you shoved the lever to shut it off—letting out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

Slapping heaping scoops of the creamed butter into a half-sheet pan, you set the pan in the fridge to solidify and shuffled blearily into the break room, collapsing onto the worn leather couch.

“You are such an asshole.”

Gritting your teeth as the words ripped you from an uneasy sleep, you peeled one eye open reluctantly. Two shadowy figures swayed in your field of vision, neither looking particularly happy with you.

The taller figure marched towards you. ”Three days? THREE DAYS? No calls, only a single fucking text,“ The annoyed voice grew closer, making you curl in on yourself.

”'M sorry.“ You mumbled, tears springing to your eyes.

”You better have a better apology than that. They were worried sick.“ A blurry image of Stacy manifested against the doorway to the breakroom, her arms crossed. Standing in front of your shoulders, hands firmly attached to their hips, was Leo.

”We were worried sick,“ Leo corrected, throwing Stacy a look.

Not denying the allegation, Stacy's cheeks dusted pink.

Crouching in front of you, Leo gave you a once over. Their furious expression quickly morphing into one of concern. “Did you sleep here?”

“Didn't mean to, the kitchen was just,” You gave a limp shrug, avoiding their piercing gaze. “Too much.”

“How long have you been here?” Stacy asked, striding over to drape her legs across the arm of the couch.

“Since midnight-ish.” You muttered, shame pitching your voice lower.

“Babes,“ Leo sighed, running a palm over your exposed arm as you tried to shrink into the couch cushions. ”What happened? Was it your mom?“

You should your head, tears pooling in your eyes. “Pete.”

“Pete?” Stacy raised an eyebrow, looking at Leo with wide eyes.

“What did he do, hun?” Leo plopped into a cross-legged position, leaning against the couch with an expectant look.

“Did you break up?” Stacy's voice was uncharacteristically soft, but the words were still teasing.

You burst into tears.

“Stace!” Leo scolded, climbing onto the couch and hefting your torso up so that you could lay in their lap as you bawled.

“What? It seemed impossible!!” Stacy said, mortified. She absorbed Leo's vacated spot, hands hovering apprehensively in front of you. “Shit. Please don't cry.”

“It's a bit late for that.” Leo huffed, cradling your cheek with one hand. “What did that bastard do to you?”

Gulping in air, you cowered against Leo's thigh. Your friends sat quietly, patiently awaiting your story. With a stuttering inhale, you wiped the newest round of tears from your face and pushed yourself into a seated position—gratefully leaning into the arm Leo threw around your shoulders. Looking up at them wide-eyed, you waited for their encouraging nod before speaking.

“Um..” Your voice was hoarse, words shaky. “So three days ago, I tried to bring him lunch...”

As if your consciousness was sparing you from the depressing events, the words tumbled from your lips instinctively, thoughtlessly. The story pouring directly from your torn heart, accompanied by a few stray tears.

Throughout your ramble, your friends remained silent–sandwiching your body between them. Leo's sturdy frame was a comforting weight to your left. Stacy had migrated to your other side, tentatively resting a manicured hand on your shoulder. They were both eerily still as you caught them up on the implosion of your relationship with your neighbor.

Eventually, you sighed, your body sagging with exhaustion. Briefly lifting your hands, you gestured to the small, bare break room you'd passed out in. “And then you found me in here, and that's it I guess.”

Your mouth snapped shut, your eyes flinging the final few droplets of saline off of your lashes as you blinked at your lap. There was a beat of silence. Two. Three.

Then all hell broke loose.

“Is he fucking serious?“ Stacy bit out, retracting her hand to cross her arms. Her brows were raised, jaw clenched as she looked at Leo.

”He told you that you were a mistake?“ Leo squawked, clearly fuming.

“I mean, that's not—” You began to reason, words dissolving on your tongue as Leo grabbed your hand with a glare.

“Absolutely not. Do not start that bullshit.”

Frowning, you averted your eyes. ”I'm not doing anything.“

“Princess, we love you, but don't pretend you're not blaming yourself.“ Stacy scoffed, standing from the couch and tugging at the roots of her hair.

“And defending him while you're at it.” Leo gently prodded your side with a knuckle, giving you an all-too-knowing glance. At your resulting pout, they sighed. “I know that hearing your mom blame you again and again is hard to unlearn, but she's wrong. So is Pete and all the other men who have done this to you. You deserve better.”

“Seconded.” Stacy nodded firmly, pointing a finger at you. “The next time I see him, I swear on my grandmother—”

The petite brunette was pacing, fists clenched in her fury. Leo looked equally angry, though they were much less obvious about it. Smirking at Stacy's empty threat, they finished it for her. ”We'll beat him senseless with a baseball bat.“

Giggling, you leaned into the hug Leo offered, exhaling into their shoulder. ”I appreciate you both, but I'd rather just move past it.“

”Deal.“ Leo kissed the top of your head, holding out a hand to help you stand from the couch.

”Speak for yourself, I am not willing to let this slide.“ Stacy called with a huff, stalking out to the counter to begin prepping for the morning rush.

”Should I be worried?“ You bit your bottom lip, eyes following her out of the break room.

”Nah, you know her. It'll pass, this is just how she shows her love.“ Leo reassured you, striding into the kitchen at the ambling pace you set. ”We would do anything for you, you know.“

Smiling bashfully, you nodded. “I appreciate it, Leo. Thank you.”

Though you were still dead on your feet and reeling from the emotional whiplash you'd been put through, an odd form of peace had engulfed you. Talking things out had taken a massive weight off of your shoulders.

You felt heat prick your cheeks as you sheepishly recalled the way you'd isolated yourself after leaving the construction site. At the time, it had felt like the natural path forward. But it clearly hadn't done you any good.

Your coworkers were eternally patient as you fumbled your way through your daily tasks, your brain still a glob of jelly after being berated by both Frank and your mother.

Gritting your teeth in frustration, you collapsed onto a bar stool. Kneading your forehead with one hand, you inhaled deeply.

Peeking around the corner of the walk-in, Leo frowned. “All of them?”

Nodding miserably, you forced a response around the lump in your throat. ”Every. Single. One.“

”Aw, babes.“ Leo pouted, coming to inspect the trays you'd thrown around your station as your defeat grew.

”They're all flat. How did it slip my mind that the rain would throw off the humidity in the main room? That's, like, proofing 101.“ You moaned, prodding one of the dense croissants with a finger. ”Christ, I feel like I've lost my mind. It should not be this hard to do something simple.“

Patting your back reassuringly, your best friend ignored your protests, lining your ovens with the ruined croissants and setting a timer. “Do you remember the first time Ez and I broke up?”

Ezra, Leo's on-again-off-again partner, had broken things off for the first time right before you both took your final preparation exam for your first pastry class in school. Leo had nearly flunked the course after they used salt instead of sugar in every dish.

Stifling a chuckle, you fiddled with the strands of your apron. “I seriously think Allard was reconsidering his decision to teach. His face!“ You and Leo snorted in tandem, picturing the old french man's grimace.

”Oh he definitely had regrets. My point is, the brain works in mysterious ways when you're grieving.“ Leo stated matter-of-factly.

”Grieving?“ You asked. “Frank didn't die–”

“I know that, smartass. But you still lost something, did you not?”

Pondering for a moment, you conceded. “I suppose.”

“So, your brain is handling this just like any other loss. Grief processing is its current main priority, remembering how to make picture-perfect croissants is not even in the backlog.”

“It should be, given that we operate a bakery.” You grumped, watching the pitiful slabs of dough puff slightly in the oven.

Smacking you gently over the back of your head, Leo's expression turned endearingly stern. “You, my dear, need to be kinder to yourself. Something huge and incredibly hurtful just happened to you. Give yourself a moment to breathe.”

Their soft command gave you pause. They weren't wrong. You'd jumped from escaping, to wallowing, to working without so much as a millisecond to relax. Had this bullshit happened to anyone else, you would've been much more understanding. But being kind to yourself was never your strong suit.

Mulling over the possibility of granting your brain a smidge of grace, you watched the flat pastries expand ever so slightly as they began to brown under the yellow oven lights. Realization finally striking you, you turned to Leo with a quizzical expression.

“You put them in the oven.” You stated simply, mind not quite forming a question to remedy your confusion.

Chuckling, Leo nodded. “I did.” They leaned against your station with a smile.

“Kitchen adaptations, hun. What did we used to do with pastry dough that didn't rise properly?”

Understanding dawning on you, your lips parted. “Croissant sandwiches.”

Squeezing your shoulder, Leo hummed in confirmation, striding back to their station to finish shaping bread loaves. You continued to watch the thin crescents puff, reminding yourself that the mistake was fixable. Sure, they wouldn't be the gorgeous, fluffy pastries you'd envisioned—but they could still be made into something delicious. For today, that was enough.

Feeling less hopeless, you wiped your hands on your apron and strolled over to the lines of proofing bread, moving them to the proofing cart easily. ”What are we stocking today?” You asked, hoping they'd notice the hidden meaning of the question.

“Let's stick to simple comfort foods. The weather is nasty, we probably won't be too busy. After we finish the staples, we could make some baguettes and a soup or two? Maybe some kitchen sink cookies and brownies too. Those won't take much effort.“ Leo tapped their chin thoughtfully, looking to you with a soft expression. ”Sound good?“

Smiling, you nodded–glad that Leo was willing to take charge for the day. Sliding your arms around your best friend's waist, you squeezed them tightly before bustling off to prepare some yeast.

Over the next few weeks, your mood improved significantly. Out of concern for you, and more than likely out of concern for the bakery, Stacy and Leo had spent a handful of nights at your place–helping you wind down after work, and motivating you to get up the next morning. Their presence and constant glares towards your and Frank's shared wall made it easier to move forward without him. You could feel your consciousness wading through the stages of grief, rapidly approaching acceptance.

For now, though, you were still moping–much to your friends’ dismay.

”C'mon, Princess! Live a little!! You haven’t gone out with us in forEVER“ Stacy whined, pinching your arm as she took a seat on the counter you were cleaning.

Scowling at her, you switched your rag out for a broom, determined to keep tidying around the obstruction she presented. ”I already told you. I don't feel like going out tonight, Stace.“

Sweeping stray coffee beans from under the machines, you fought back an eye roll at her snort. ”Oh, I'm sorry, did you have plans besides crying on your couch while watching rom coms?“

”Christ, Stacy, I told you to invite her, not insult her!“ Leo scolded as they exited the kitchen.

”Someone needs to say it!“ Stacy threw her hands in the air, looking at you pointedly. ”Being sad has its time and place, but the only way to truly get over a man is by going out and getting wasted, you both know I'm right!“ She huffed in frustration as both you and Leo opened your mouths to protest.

Scratching the back of their neck sheepishly, Leo raised a brow at you. “She actually might have a point.”

Pumping her fists victoriously, Stacy leapt from the counter. “See? It'll be good for you!”

Glancing between her and Leo, you sighed. Pouting in distaste, you knew you had been outvoted. If you refused to go, they’d drag you out anyway. “Fine.”

Your friends cheered, high-fiving their success. Stacy danced over to you. “It's gonna be great, princess. You'll see!”

“Oh, I’m sure.” You snarked, dipping the formerly abandoned rag in a bin of bleach solution and resuming your afternoon disinfecting duties in the front of the cafe while your coworkers plotted the outing.

“What are you going to wear, hun?” Leo called over their shoulder to you, after complaining to Stacy about their lack of cute clothes.

“Considering I am only going to please the two of you? I'm not quite sure.” You snorted, tone still sharp with irritation.

“Well, since you're clearly in such a great mood,” Leo giggled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Maybe we could get ready together?”

“We totally should! While blasting EDM really loudly in your living room!” Stacy grinned, feigning innocence despite her clear intentions to make Frank's life a living hell.

“Ok now you are definitely not invited.” You frowned, imagining how much he'd curse at you if you became a horrid neighbor on top of all your other faults.

“It's cute that you think you have a choice!” Stacy laughed evilly, rubbing her hands together in a movie-villain-esque motion.

Groaning miserably, you stiffened as Stacy padded over and held a hand out for the rag.

Making a grabby hand gesture, her other palm landed on her hip. “Hand the towel over, princess. You and Leo can head to your place to get you all fixed up and I'll finish cleaning.”

“I'm not sure whether I should be offended that you're implying I don't look stunning like this,” You circled a hand around your unwashed face. “Or worried that you're offering to lock up. You hate closing.”

“Exactly. That’s how much I want you to have a good night out, dude!” Stacy gave you a stern look, flicking her eyes between the damp rag and your stubborn expression.

Sighing heavily, you tossed the rag to her and slipped out of your apron. “If this place isn't gleaming tomorrow–”

“Yah, yah.” Stacy waved you off, putting earbuds in as she walked to the other end of the room.

“The disrespect.” You muttered, turning to Leo who was clearly amused at the fact that you'd been outwitted by the other girl.

“C'mon, sweets. We'll need to stop somewhere for drinks unless we want to go into debt to get drunk tonight.” Grabbing your hand, the two of you left Stacy and the bakery behind as you braved the heat outside.

Slogging up the stairs, arms laden with a paper bag filled with the cheapest alcohol the three of you could stomach, you adjusted your center of gravity to avoid toppling down the stairs. It felt like you were swimming upstream, given the weight in your hold and the immense humidity of the stairwell. Finally reaching the landing, you scrunched your nose as a bead of sweat dripped from it.

“Took you long enough,” Leo remarked, smirking at you from your front door, having made it up the stairs long ago.

“Not all of us have a lithe athletic build and the heart rate of an Olympian.” You huffed, shuffling toward them with a small smile. Despite your initial apprehension, excitement had started to build in your chest at the thought of the night ahead of you. As you were about to express that much to Leo, the click of a doorknob stopped you in your tracks.

Stepping out of his apartment, adorably happy pitbull in tow, was none other than your neighbor, Frank Castle.

Frozen in place, it was a miracle you didn’t drop the bag in your shock. You’d assumed he’d avoid you just as you’d avoided him. Apparently you weren’t that lucky.

Looking a bit surprised himself, Frank hesitated for a minute before plastering a scowl on his face and tugging at the leash in his grasp. “C’mon Max.”

Watching Frank stalk past you without so much as a glance in your direction, your mouth dropped open with indignation. Poor Max was dragged to the stairs behind him, despite the dog’s efforts to greet you on the way down the hall.

Gritting your teeth, you marched to your own door and unlocked it. Carefully depositing the bottles on the ground, you grabbed a handle of cherry vodka, cracking it open and taking a swig as you stomped into your apartment.

“I suppose that’s one way to handle whatever just happened.” Leo murmured, studying you with a concerned frown. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Nope!” You grinned, pulling another gulp of liquor from the bottle. “Care to help me pick an outfit? I’m hoping to drink for free tonight.”

Striding into your room with Leo on your heels, your gut burned as the lump of despair you’d been clinging to for a week burned red hot with rage. Your friends were right. You deserved better.

If Frank Castle didn’t want you, then you sure as hell didn’t want him.

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victoria-writes · 6 months

Text

I will never forget you.

Pairing: Legolas x Reader (gender neutral)

Summary: Legolas proposes to you and reassures you that he wants to be with you. Fluff & Angst with a happy ending + bonus ending

Word Count: 1605

Notes:

Reader is human

No gender or pronouns used to refer to the reader. Reader is briefly mentioned to have short hair

MENTIONS OF DEATH (reader's). Don't read if you're not ok with thinking about your own mortality xoxo

Read it on AO3 here

Story:

It has been months since you moved to Mirkwood with the prince following the disbandment of the fellowship and destruction of the one ring. Sometimes your mind would drift to what could’ve happened had the ring fallen into the wrong hands or if any other evil lies dormant, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. You could never sit with these thoughts for long, though. Legolas seemed to have a sixth sense for when you needed to see the good in the world again. Today was one of those days.

“Come, there is something I wish to show you”, the elf smiled as he stretched his hand out, waiting for you to take it from your place sitting in a wooden chair inside the royal palace.

“It better not be another elk giving birth in the woods. I’m still traumatized from your idea of ‘the beauty of nature’”, you grimace at the memory still not extending your hand.

“No, no, nothing like that. I promise”, he chuckles softly.

“Fine”.

Legolas had brought you to a clearing in the forest, surrounded by old-growth trees and wildflowers. White queen anne’s lace, forget-me-nots, and flowers whose names you did not know, who only seemed to grow near where elves trot, filled your eyes. This is not the first time he’s found a quiet spot in nature to take you, and it will surely not be the last. While overlooking the rainbow of colors seemingly dancing in the field in front of you, you sneak a glance at the elf from the corner of your eye. He stands confidently with his hands behind his back next to you and smiles. If it were anyone else looking at him, they’d think he was completely at ease. Anyone but you. The look in his eyes said “Do you like it? Do you? Please tell me you like it.”. He always wanted to impress you, whether it be shooting three arrows at once when one would suffice, wearing his nicest clothes (“Legolas why are you wearing your ceremonial attire?” “Don’t worry about it, father”.), or finding the best places to take you. Be still, your beating heart. For a nearly 3,000 year old elf, he acted like a lovesick teenager.

“It’s absolutely beautiful”, you finally say after a long silence. Legolas releases tension in his shoulders he didn’t even realize he was holding.

“I knew you would. Let us sit in the grass.”, he guided you so that he was sitting with your back against his chest, his legs on either side.

You felt your tongue form teasing words about him taking you on a hike to a remote spot just for a cuddle, but they faded away as he wrapped his arms around your sides and began to plant soft, slow kisses on your neck and shoulder. You melted into his warm touch.

“May I braid your hair?”

“Yes, but there’s not much to braid.”, you reply. You had recently gotten a haircut and felt as though Legolas may be disappointed. He was very enthusiastic about your new look the first time he saw it, but now you fear he may not enjoy it.

“Nonsense, I shall make many small plaits instead”.

“Alright”, you relaxed into his hands as he began to weave strands of hair behind you. You closed your eyes, as you reveled in the feeling of the sunlight on your face as he worked. All was quiet aside from the occasional bird chirping or squirrel running up a tree. A warm feeling took hold in your chest and you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips. You were safe. You were happy. You were in love.

Millenia seemed to pass before Legolas announced he was done. True to his word, he had formed many braids in your hair. He may have gone a little overboard with just how many he made, but he just loved the feeling of being so close to you and never wanted it to end.

“Thank you”, you whisper as your turn to face him, giving him a peck on the lips. You move your hand to feel the back of your head, itching to feel the braids your lover gifted you. Soft. Your fingers feel something soft. Something thin and soft.

“Forget-me-not flowers”, Legolas clarified, seeing you trying to decipher with your fingers, “I thought them appropriate”.

“Why is that?” “They are gifted to one whose presence you enjoy, so as not to forget them, as the name implies. I could never forget you and I hope you would not forget me. Each past day with you is a beloved memory and each day to come cannot come soon enough. I treasure each moment with you. I feel myself drowning in my affection for you. No, peacefully swimming. I adore you. I cannot bear to be without you.”, he says softly as he holds both your hands and kisses each one, never breaking eye contact.

“Oh, Legolas”

“Meleth nîn”, he uses his hands to guide you both to your feet. As you look up into his bright blue eyes, he whispers “Please allow me to never be without you. Allow me to walk beside you for all the days we may share together before death takes us. I have lived millennia without you. Now that I know what life is like with you in it, I never want to go back. I want you with me, always.”

“Are you asking me-?”, you begin as he kneels down in front of you and pulls out a ring from his pocket.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”, he gazes at you with hope in his eyes as he lifts the ring towards you.

“Yes. Yes. Yes!”, he quickly puts the ring on your left ring finger and you pull him into a harsh kiss. You and the elf wear matching smiles as you kiss long and hard.

“I’m so happy, Legolas…but is this what you really want?”, your smile drops as your nerves hit you. “Of course, my love. Why do you question my intentions?”.

“It’s not your intentions that I question. It’s just that you’re…you”, you vaguely gesture at the elf.

“I’m not following.”

“You’re a prince. I’m poor. You’re an elf that’ll live thousands of years. I’m a human that’ll be lucky if I make it to 70.” “I don’t care about that.”

“Your father won’t approve.” “I care not what my father thinks. His opinion of our union will not sway me.”

“Then what of my mortality? One day I will die and leave you alone.”

He sighs before he speaks, “I must admit I have thought long and hard on this subject. The thought of your death pains me to no end.” “Exactly. Our marriage would be short-lived in your long lifetime and I will become nothing but a memory to you, one that will fade one day.”

“What are you saying?” “I’m saying you love me now, but one day I will die and you’ll move on and I’ll mean nothing to you. One day you’ll laugh at how you ever loved a silly human”, tears began to well in your eyes, shame overtaking you as you finally let out the fears you’ve been harboring all this time. Your gaze drifts downwards, unable to face your elven lover. Legolas’ eyes widened in realization, shocked at your true feelings. He manages to compose himself and lifts your chin up with his index finger.

“Meleth nîn, look at me. Y/N, please.”, he whispers his request.

“It is true that my life will continue when yours ends.”

Hot tears began to run down your cheeks at this.

“But”, he swipes the tears away with his thumb, “You will always be a part of it. Even when you are gone, I will love you. You have shown me love that I did not think was possible. When you are gone, I will visit your grave with flowers each day. I will braid my hair and miss the touch of yours. I will never remarry. I will walk the paths we have taken together. I will meditate in this very spot, remembering this moment. I will never forget you. In life and in death, we are connected. I love you”.

“And I love you”, you barely choke the words out through your tears.

“Knowing all this, my silly human,”he teases before turning serious, “Will you marry me?” “Of course, I’ll marry you, you ridiculous elf”.

You both grin as Legolas lifts you up and spins you in his arms. When your feet are planted on the Earth again he kisses you deeply. As you feel your lips on your own, you imagine a thousand more kisses each day with him for the rest of your days.

Bonus

Many moons have passed since your passing. Legolas meant every word of his promise and has done all that he said. Before he rests each night, he reads the book on his nightstand, your favorite book of poems. He recalls reading it to you on nights your eyes were too tired as he pet your hair while you laid on his chest. When he wakes each morning, he glares at the large empty space beside it, wishing it were you. Although his heart pangs at the loss of you, he finds joy and comfort in revisiting your old haunts, his favorite being the spot where he proposed to you. Today, our elf wanders into the cemetery. “Hello, meleth nîn”, he smiles as he places a bouquet of freshly picked forget-me-nots on your grave.

#angst and fluff #human reader #legolas x yn #legolas x y/n #legolas greenleaf #legolas x reader #legolas #lord of the rings #lotr x reader #lotr #the lord of the rings #lotr x you #lotr x y/n #legolas x you #legolas/reader #legolas/yn

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kckt88 · 1 month

Text

Wings of Departure.

Summary:

'I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone' - J. R R Tolkien

She simultaneously loved him and hated him in equal measure, but in the deep recesses of her mind, Vaena wondered if she could truly stand by and allow her husband to die, to stand there and watch as he was executed or worse to face him in the skies and fight to the death on dragon back.

It made her feel sick to her stomach-

But sooner or later she knew that she would have to make a choice.

Warning(s): Angst, Swearing, Family Drama, O.C Is Sick of Her Mother's B.S, Mild Violence, Referenced Character Deaths, Plots, Eavesdropping, Alicent Selling Out Her Own Sons, Dragons, Uncle/Niece Incest, Smut, Kissing, Oral Sex (M & F Recieving), P in V.

AEMOND x O.C

Word Count: 11K

A.N - Aemond and O.C say FUCK THIS SHIT!!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9

Princess Vaena Targaryen stood by the Painted Table on Dragonstone, her fingers tracing the intricate details of the carved map.

The ancient table, depicting the entirety of Westeros, seemed to throb with a life of its own under the flickering torchlight. Beside her stood brother Jacaerys, his youthful face set in a determined scowl as he leaned forward, his hands planted firmly on the table's edge.

Their mother, Queen Rhaenyra, stood with her advisors in deep discussion. The room was thick with the weight of recent losses and grim prospects. Princess Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was, had fallen at Rook's Rest, her dragon Meleys dead alongside her.

The greens had suffered too; as Aegon lay grievously injured, and his dragon Sunfyre was unlikely to survive. Yet, the cost to Rhaenyra’s own cause had been steep, and the morale within Dragonstone had been shaken.

Jacaerys broke away from the table, his voice clear and insistent as he addressed their mother. "We must press our advantage now. Vhagar is no doubt injured from her fight with Meleys. She is vulnerable. We should take Cannibal, Syrax, and Vermax and descend on the hoary old bitch. She might be the largest dragon in the world, but not even she could withstand a combined attack from three dragons. Without Vhagar, the greens’ position would be greatly weakened."

Rhaenyra, her face pale and drawn, shook her head slowly. Her eyes, filled with sorrow and fatigue, met her son’s fiery gaze. "No, Jace. I do not wish to unleash the dragons on King's Landing. I do not wish to rule over ash and bone”

Vaena watched the exchange, feeling the tension in the room rise. The thought of further destruction, of turning King's Landing into a charred ruin, filled her with dread. Yet, she could see the logic in Jacaerys’ words.

"Mother-" Vaena said softly, stepping closer to Rhaenyra. "Jace has a point. Vhagar is a significant threat, and if we could neutralize her, it would tip the scales in our favour. We don't have to attack King's Landing directly. We can find Vhagar while she is weak and take her down."

“Vaena-” muttered Rhaenyra, her fingers moving across the edge of the painted table.

"Mother, your inaction is only going to end with more losses. You should have listened to Daemon when the greens first usurped the throne, but you chose not to act."

Rhaenyra's face tightened with a mix of sorrow and fatigue, but before she could respond, Vaena pressed on. "Look what's happened because of it! Luke is dead, Daemon is lost to Harrenhal, Rhaenys is dead, and we've lost Duskendale and Rook’s Rest to the greens. And now, when we have a chance to strike at Vhagar while she's vulnerable, you refuse to act again!"

The Queen’s eyes filled with pain, but she maintained her composure. "I do not wish to rule over ash and bone, Vaena. The cost of this war has already been too high."

Vaena's eyes flashed with anger and frustration. "And it will only get higher if you continue to hesitate”.

Rhaenyra took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I understand your frustration, Vaena. However, since the claiming of Seasmoke-I am considering a plan to have anyone with Valyrian blood attempt to claim the riderless dragons that currently reside in the dragon mount”

“To what end?” asked Vaena pursing her lips.

“I’m hoping that having more dragons on my side may act as a deterrent-”

"-That’s ludicrous!" Vaena shouted. "How can you consider letting just anyone try to claim a dragon? It’s dangerous! Loyalty is fickle, and people can be easily swayed. We cannot risk the dragons falling into the wrong hands."

Rhaenyra's voice was firm but tinged with desperation. "I have no other option available to me”

“Surely my Cannibal is enough”

“As fearsome as your dragon is, Cannibal is but one dragon, we stand a better chance with Vermithor, Grey Ghost and Silver-” replied Rhaenyra.

Vaena's face flushed with anger, her fists clenched at her sides. "-You promised that when Aerion was old enough, he would be given the chance to claim Silverwing”

Rhaenyra's expression softened, but she did not waver. "I have not forgotten my promise. But we are in desperate times, and desperate measures are required”

Vaena’s anger surged, her amethyst eyes blazing with fury as she faced her mother. "You promised me that Aerion would have a chance to claim Silverwing when he was old enough. Now, you’re going back on your word. You say you mourn our losses, but I don’t believe you. You seem more bothered by Daemon’s involvement in the assassination of Jaehaerys than by the death of your own son”.

Rhaenyra's face darkened, her own anger flaring. "-It was your own husband that killed Luke!"

The words hung in the air, sharp and painful. Vaena’s face flushed with rage, and she stepped closer to her mother, the anger and frustration boiling to the surface.

"All of this is your fault. Maybe if you had remained in King’s Landing and actually spent time solidifying your position as heir to the Iron Throne, then it wouldn’t have been so easy to usurp you. Maybe if you had bonded with your siblings instead of scorning them, our family be so divided. And maybe if you had made Luke apologize for slashing out Aemond’s eye, he might still be alive."

Rhaenyra’s eyes blazed with fury, but there was also a flicker of hurt in them. "You dare challenge my authority? Everything I’ve done has been for the sake of our family, for the Targaryen legacy. I have lost as much as you, Vaena. Do not presume to understand the burdens I carry."

Vaena’s voice was raw with emotion. "I do understand, Mother. I understand that your inaction has cost us dearly. I understand that your decisions—or lack thereof—have led to the deaths of our loved ones. And I understand that if we continue down this path, more will die."

Rhaenyra’s expression hardened, and she took a step back, her eyes narrowing. "You think you could do better? You think you could make the decisions that need to be made? This war is not as simple as you believe."

Vaena’s eyes met her mother’s, unyielding. "Maybe I could. Maybe someone needs to. Because right now, all I see is a Queen too afraid to act, and a realm falling apart because of it."

Rhaenyra's eyes blazed with fury, her voice sharp and commanding. "How dare you speak to me in such a manner? I am not only your mother, but your Queen!"

Vaena laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and mocking. "Daemon had the right idea—get as far away from you as possible."

Rhaenyra's face contorted with rage, her voice rising to a shout. "Get out of my sight! NOW!"

Vaena's eyes flashed with defiance as she turned on her heel. "Gladly”

She stormed towards the door, her steps quick and angry. Jace moved to intercept her, his face pleading. "Vaena, wait! Please, don't go-”

Vaena shook her head, her voice cold. "-If things carry on as they are, we’re all going to die."

With that, she pushed past him, and left the room, the echoes of her footsteps fading down the corridor.

Vaena stormed down the dimly lit corridors of Dragonstone, her mind a whirlwind of anger and frustration. She reached her chambers and pushed the door open with more force than she intended, startling the maid who was attending to her three-year-old son, Aerion.

"Leave us," Vaena said curtly, and the maid, sensing her mood, quickly curtsied and exited the room without a word.

As soon as the door shut, Vaena's gaze softened, shifting to Aerion, who was sitting on the floor surrounded by his toys. The little boy looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes. "Mummy sad," he said, his voice filled with concern.

Vaena managed a slight nod, her heart aching at the purity of his concern. She moved to sit on the floor beside him, trying to push the tumultuous argument with her mother from her mind.

Aerion reached out with one of his toys, a small wooden dragon, and offered it to her. "Mummy play," he said, his face lighting up with a hopeful smile.

Vaena's lips curved into a tender smile as she took the toy from him. "Thank you, my sweet boy."

Aerion giggled, his joy infectious, and for a moment, Vaena felt the heavy weight of her anger and sorrow lift.

Vaena stood on the stone balcony of Dragonstone. Her gaze was fixed on the boats approaching the shore, each one carrying hopeful souls eager for the chance to claim a dragon.

Since the argument, Vaena had not spoken to her mother. They had taken to avoiding each other, a silence that was more painful than any confrontation.

A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. She turned to see Jace entering the room, his presence a welcome distraction. Aerion, who was playing with his toys on the floor, looked up with a bright smile.

"Jace!"

Jace grinned as he ruffled the boy’s silver hair affectionately. "Hello, little one," he said, his voice warm.

“Play dragons-”

“I’m a little busy at the moment-but I’ll play later” replied Jace.

“Ok-look Vhagar” exclaimed Aerion as he held up a wooden dragon figure.

“Very good” replied Jace softly.

“I miss daddy-” muttered Aerion sadly as he moved his dragon figurine through the air.

“I know you do sweet boy” said Vaena as she looked at Jace who ruffled Aerion’s hair again before standing up.

"Are you coming to witness the claiming of Vermithor?" asked Jace.

Vaena shook her head, her expression resolute. "No, I’m not."

Jace nodded, a shadow of understanding crossing his face. "Alright. I’ll see you later then."

As Jace moved towards the door, Vaena's voice stopped him. "It’s wrong. Letting common folk lay claim to the dragons—it weakens the Targaryen legacy."

Jace paused at the threshold, his hand on the door handle. He hesitated, looking back at her with a thoughtful expression. Then, with a nod, he opened the door and stepped out, leaving Vaena alone with Aerion.

A few hours later, the aftermath of the dragon claiming ceremony had left Dragonstone abuzz with a mixture of relief and tension. Vermithor had been claimed by Hugh Hammer, and Grey Ghost had found a new rider in Ulf.

Vaena had watched as Ulf, in his drunken stupor, had taken Grey Ghost on a flight towards King’s Landing.

Her heart had nearly stopped when Vhagar had appeared off the shore of Dragonstone, relentless in her pursuit.

Her husband was no doubt furious over the events that had transpired, the claiming of a dragon was supposed to be sacred, it was supposed to mean something. It was not something to be used at the whim of a drunken lout who didn’t know his arse from his elbow.

Seeing Vhagar and knowing Aemond was only a short distance away made her heart skip a beat, she was so angry with him, she was hurt and felt betrayed but part of her still longed for him.

Longed to hear his voice, to feel the warmth of his skin, the touch of his lips. To lay in the privacy of their chambers and shut the world out, where Aemond would whisper words of love as he sheathed his cock inside her, his grunts and groans of pleasure as he pounded inside her with deep measured thrusts.

But most of all she missed seeing him with Aerion, it was their duty to produce a child and Aemond was rather enthusiastic in that regard, as he would often spill his seed inside her, sometimes more than once a day, so it was no surprise really when she discovered that she was with child.

It was considered normal for men not to frequent the marriage bed once his wife was with child, but Aemond wasn’t most men-in fact seeing her grow round with his child made his sexual appetite grow ravenous.

When he wasn’t attending his regular duties, he was between her thighs endlessly worshipping her body, with his mouth, fingers and cock. Aegon would often tease him, saying that she was already with child, and he didn’t need to keep sticking it in her as often as he did.

But Vaena knew Aemond couldn’t help it, he was especially drawn to her rapidly growing breasts, he would press his face in between them and close his eye as she stroked his hair.

After she birthed their son, his attention to her breasts only increased. Especially when it was declared that she had healed from the birth and was ready to resume their physical intimacy.

Feeding their son often left her breasts swollen and sore and Aemond ever the attentive husband was willing and eager to help sooth her aches and pains, his lips wrapped around her rosy nipples as he suckled from her.

It was an unspoken level of intimacy between man and wife, one they never verbally recognised but knew that it was necessary.

She simultaneously loved him and hated him in equal measure, and in the deep recesses of her mind, Vaena wondered if she could truly stand by and allow her husband to die, to watch as he was executed or worse to face him in the skies and fight to the death on dragon back.

It made her feel sick to her stomach, and as she watched Aemond flee, she let out a relieved sigh, he would not meet the stranger today.

But sooner or later his days would be numbered, and she would have to make a choice.

Despite the discord between her and her mother, Vaena had been summoned to attend a dinner with the new dragon riders, as much as she wanted to refuse, the expectations of duty and the weight of family ties compelled her to attend.

She had dressed herself carefully, donning a gown of deep red, with black dragon scale patterns on the shoulders that shimmered in the low light. Her reflection in the looking glass was a mask of composed elegance, but beneath the surface, her emotions churned.

The dinner was to be held in one of Dragonstone’s grand halls, where the feast would mark the acceptance of the new dragon riders into their fold.

Before leaving, she turned to her young son, Aerion, who was playing quietly with Darna, her lady-in-waiting. The loyal maid had taken on the task of caring for Aerion with gentle efficiency, providing some measure of comfort to both mother and child.

“I’ll be back soon, Aerion,” Vaena said, kneeling to kiss her son’s forehead. “Darna will take good care of you while I’m away.”

Aerion looked up at her with innocent curiosity, his small hand reaching out to touch her cheek. “Mummy go?”

Vaena nodded, forcing a reassuring smile. “Yes, sweetheart. I’ll be back before you know it.”

With one last, lingering look at her son, Vaena straightened and made her way to the hall. The corridors of Dragonstone seemed to stretch endlessly, each step echoing her apprehension.

As she approached the hall, Vaena braced herself for the evening ahead, her mind still swirling with the day’s events and the fractured relationship with her mother.

Vaena entered the grand dining hall, her steps echoing softly against the polished stone. The room was illuminated by flickering candlelight, casting long shadows across the walls and creating a warm, yet tense atmosphere. The long table was set with an array of sumptuous dishes, but the air was thick with unspoken tension.

She approached her mother, who was seated at the head of the table, and offered a slight bow. “Your Grace.”

Rhaenyra looked up, her expression a mix of weariness and strained courtesy. “Vaena, I’m glad you could join us. Allow me to introduce you to our new dragon riders.”

Vaena nodded as her mother gestured to the men seated at the table. “This is Hugh Hammer,” Rhaenyra said.

Hugh Hammer rose from his seat and gave a respectful bow. His presence was imposing, and he offered a curt nod in acknowledgment.

Next, Rhaenyra indicated Addam of Hull, who also rose and bowed graciously. His demeanour was more reserved.

Finally, Rhaenyra introduced Ulf, who was hunched over a plate, stuffing his face with food. He looked up with a surprised expression, hastily wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“Oh, one eye’s wife!” he declared loudly, a smirk playing on his lips.

Vaena's face tightened with anger at the derogatory nickname for her husband, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and fury.

She took her seat next to Jace, who reached under the table to squeeze her hand gently. The small gesture of comfort was a balm to her frayed nerves.

As the meal progressed, the conversation around the table was strained and awkward. Rhaenyra discussed potential plans to attack the Greens’ strongholds, including Old Town and Lannisport. The room buzzed with conflicting opinions.

Baela, her voice firm, questioned the morality of targeting innocent civilians. “Is it right to attack innocent people just to break our enemies' will?”

Jace, his expression resolute, replied, “It is difficult, but it must be done. We have to ensure that our enemies understand the cost of their defiance.”

Rhaenyra nodded in agreement. “We must break their will. Only then will we secure our future.”

“What of Aemond, he will not sit idle as you attack Oldtown” asked Vaena.

Ulf, who had been quietly eating, suddenly interrupted with a poorly timed joke. “You needn’t worry about one eye, too busy in the brothels he is”

Vaena's face turned a deep red with rage as she looked at Ulf “W-What?”

Ulf, oblivious to the weight of his words, leaned forward with a smirk, his hand grasping at her wrist “I heard he was caught in a brothel on the streets of Silk, discovered by his own brother, naked in the madam’s arms.”

The room fell silent, the comment hanging like a heavy shroud. Vaena's anger erupted; she snatched her hand away from Ulf, her voice trembling with fury. “Do not presume to touch me again! I am not one of your common lickspittles!”

“Apologise Princess-but it’s only fair that you knew what the kinslayer was up too, not sparing you a single thought as he sought out the madam, it’s an insult-betraying you in such a manner”

“You-” snarled Vaena as she seized a handful of Ulf’s grey hair and slammed his head down on the table with a resounding thud.

Ulf, taken aback, tried to recover his composure but found himself struggling against Vaena’s vice-like grip.

“Let him go, Vaena!” Rhaenyra commanded, her voice laced with a mix of shock and authority.

Vaena’s glare was a storm of betrayal and hurt. She held Ulf’s head down for a moment longer before releasing him. He slumped back into his chair, stunned and humiliated.

Leaning closer, Vaena’s voice was cold and menacing. “You a stain on the Targaryen legacy and if you so much as look in my direction again, I will have you fed to my Cannibal.”

With that, Vaena turned on her heel and stormed out of the dining hall, her heart pounding with a mix of anger and tears. The weight of Ulf’s vile comments about Aemond had struck a raw nerve, and the sting of his words lingered as she fled down the corridor.

Vaena entered her chambers, the heavy door closing behind her with a quiet thud. The room was dimly lit by the flickering light of a few candles, casting long shadows across the walls. She moved with a weary grace to the bedside, where Aerion lay fast asleep.

The sight of him, so peaceful and innocent, offered a fleeting moment of solace amid the chaos.

Darna, who had been tending to Aerion, stood by the door, ready to leave. Vaena gave her a nod. “Thank you, Darna. You may go now.”

The maid curtsied and exited the room, closing the door softly behind her. Vaena stood alone, her gaze drifting to the sleeping form of her son. The room felt suddenly heavy with the weight of her memories and her current turmoil.

Her mind wandered back to the last time she had seen Aemond. The memory was as vivid as if it had happened only yesterday. They had argued fiercely about his decision to support the usurpation of the throne from her mother.

Aemond had been adamant that Aegon was the rightful king, citing his status as the first-born son. “Viserys’ wishes mean nothing,” Aemond had said, his voice cold and resolute. “Aegon is the one who should rule.”

Vaena had countered with equal fervour. “But Mother was named heir by King Viserys himself! He upheld her claim steadfastly. This isn’t about bloodlines; it’s about honour and duty!”

Their argument had escalated, and in a desperate move, Aemond had locked her and Aerion in his chambers, preventing her from intervening in the crowning of Aegon. Vaena remembered the fear and helplessness she felt as the reality of their situation set in.

Luckily, Ser Erryk had managed to aid her and Rhaegar in their escape, but the reprieve was short-lived. Mere days later, Aemond’s actions had culminated in the death of her brother Luke.

Vaena sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes tracing the contours of Aerion’s sleeping face.

In the early days of her marriage to Aemond, their relationship had been marked by awkwardness and uncertainty, his ire towards Luke for the loss of his eye lingered beneath the surface, not for the act itself but the lack of apology, and the fact his father seemed more bothered about insults levied against his favourite child’s sons than his own son who had been permanently maimed.

At first Aemond had been stoic and reserved, his attention to her minimal, even their intimate encounters at first were awkward and stilted.

The emotional distance between them had been palpable, and it had felt as though they were two strangers bound by duty rather than affection.

But slowly, as time passed, they had found common ground. They had bonded over their shared love of Valyrian history, spending hours reading ancient texts and discussing their interpretations.

Their conversations had started to bridge the gap that once separated them. They had taken to flying their dragons together, the freedom of the skies offering a sanctuary from the constraints of their royal lives.

Through these moments of connection, Aemond had begun to lower his mask. Vaena had discovered that beneath his reserved exterior was a man who yearned for love and acceptance. It hadn’t been hard to fall in love with him as he revealed more of himself—his vulnerabilities, his hopes, and his dreams.

The transformation had been even more profound with the birth of Aerion. Fatherhood had softened Aemond, revealing a side of him that was determined to be a better father than his own.

He had become attentive and loving, singing Valyrian lullabies to their son and whispering words of affection in the quiet of the night. Those moments of tenderness had forged a bond between them, a connection that was now a painful reminder of what they had lost.

Vaena’s heart raced as she summoned the courage to confront her mother. The weight of her conflicted feelings about Aemond and the looming possibility of battle were pressing heavily upon her.

She knew she needed to speak with her mother about her hesitancy in facing Aemond, even if their relationship was strained. With resolve, she pulled on a robe and ventured out of her chambers.

The night air was crisp, filled with the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore and the distant roars of dragons resting within Dragon mount. She approached her mother’s chambers and knocked gently on the door.

When there was no immediate response, Vaena hesitated, then slowly opened the door. To her surprise, the room was empty. She was about to turn away when she heard muffled voices coming from the corridor below. Curiosity and concern drove her to descend the steps quietly, her footsteps barely making a sound on the stone.

As she reached the lower level, she caught sight of her mother and Alicent Hightower engaged in a heated conversation. Vaena's heart sank as she ducked behind a large bookcase to listen discreetly. She covered her mouth to stifle a gasp of shock at the gravity of their discussion.

Alicent was speaking urgently. “I cannot bear the thought of losing Helaena and Jaehaera. I’m willing to offer Kings Landing to you-Aemond will soon leave for Harrenhal, in three days’ time you will come to Kings Landing, and I will have the guards throw down their weapons and you can take the Iron Throne without bloodshed”

Vaena’s breath caught in her throat. Alicent was negotiating her daughter’s and granddaughter’s lives, but not her sons.

Rhaenyra’s voice was cold and calculating. “What of Aegon? Does he not matter?”

Alicent’s voice trembled with emotion. “Aegon is broken beyond recognition. He lies in the dark, writhing in pain and terror. He is no longer fit to rule. If you want, I can make him bend the knee-”

Rhaenyra’s response was sharp. “-If I am to take the throne, then I must put an end to the opposition. I cannot afford to show mercy to him or Aemond. Their death’s must be public, I must take their heads for all to see. You must choose, Alicent. Will you remain on this course, or will you sacrifice your sons for the greater good?”

The room fell into a tense silence. Vaena’s heart pounded as she listened, horrified, to the weight of the decision being made. Alicent’s response was a reluctant acceptance. “I-I will m-make the sacrifice”

Vaena’s shock and revulsion were overwhelming. She could hardly believe what she had just heard. Her knees felt weak as she quietly retraced her steps, retreating from the scene.

The cold air of the night seemed to close in around her as she made her way back to her chambers, her mind reeling from the betrayal and the cruel choices being made.

Vaena was in a state of disbelief as she replayed the disturbing conversation she had just overheard. It was all wrong, a web of madness and betrayal that she could scarcely comprehend, a mother willingly sacrificing her own sons.

Then there was her own mother, again desperately clinging to her friendship with Alicent, a friendship that should no longer hold any meaning or significance.

They were on the precipice of war and these two were meeting up like lovers in the cover of darkness. Her mother was blind when it came to Alicent, and surely it would be their undoing.

Fire and Blood was sure to reign and still her mother stays her hand because her childhood companion pleads tearfully and whispers words of surrender.

They were all going to die, and Vaena would not subject her son to such horrors. No matter the cost, she had to protect him; there was no other choice. They had to leave, and they had to leave immediately.

After she had changed into her riding leathers she moved quickly, her heart pounding as she packed a small bag with essentials. The urgency of the situation pushed her to be efficient but thorough.

As she fastened the bag closed, she glanced at Aerion, still sound asleep in his bed. With a heavy heart, she gently woke him, pressing soft kisses to his forehead to soothe him from his slumber.

"We’re going flying, sweetheart," she whispered softly, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and determination. Aerion, barely awake, clung to her instinctively as she lifted him into her arms, his little face pressing into her neck for comfort.

Vaena carefully opened the door to her chambers and peeked into the corridor. It was clear. She moved swiftly through the castle, her steps as quiet as possible, and descended into the Dragon mount.

As she passed the entrance to Silverwing’s cavern, she hesitated.

After the successfully claims of Vermithor and Grey Ghost, she knew her mother still intended to have others try and claim Silverwing but given that Vermithor had killed the majority of the people who came to try their luck, it was unknown as to when anymore hopefuls would arrive, but Vaena didn’t want to take the chance.

The thought of seeing Silverwing being claimed by someone else was unbearable. So, she held Aerion close, took a deep breath and entered the cavern.

Silverwing, the majestic dragon once belonging to the revered Queen Alysanne, lay curled beside a newly laid clutch of eggs. The dragon’s enormous eyes opened slowly at the sound of her approach.

Vaena, speaking in a soothing tone, said, “Lykirī!” (Calm).

Silverwing’s gentle nature shone through as she moved forward and nuzzled Vaena, her massive snout sniffing at Aerion with curiosity.

Aerion looked at the dragon with wide, amethyst eyes full of wonder.

“Dokimarvose Silverwing” Vaena urged softly (Focus).

Aerion placed his small hand on Silverwing’s snout, and the dragon responded with an affectionate coo.

“īlon issi naejot Sōvegon” Vaena said firmly, her voice carrying the weight of her resolve. (We are to fly).

Silverwing tilted her head to the side as she listened.

“Nyke gaomagon daor jaelagon naejot henujagon ao” She looked at Silverwing with a plea in her eyes. (I do not wish to leave you).

The gentle dragon moved forward and nudged Vaena slightly, expelling warm air from her nostrils.

“Māzigon rūsīr issa hāedar” (Come with me, girl).

Silverwing rumbled softly in response, her attention divided between Vaena and her eggs.

Vaena carefully lowered Aerion to the ground and moved toward the dragon’s nest. She picked up a sharp rock and used it to break open the hardened, gelatinous sack encasing three precious eggs.

One by one, she wrapped each egg in a piece of clothing and carefully placed them into her bag.

Aerion held out his hand to Silverwing, who nuzzled it tenderly. “Kostilus māzigon, gēlenka” whispered Aerion (Please come, Silver).

Silverwing cooed in acceptance, sensing the urgency, as the beginnings of a bond began to form between the dragon and the child.

Vaena lifted Aerion back into her arms, her voice resolute “Gūrogon naejot se jēdar īlon jāhor sōvegon hēnkirī” (Take to the sky; we will fly together).

She watched as Silverwing lumbered forward and left the cavern, the dragon’s powerful wings spreading in preparation for flight. Vaena’s heart raced with a mixture of relief and apprehension.

The last step in her plan was to reach her Cannibal.

Vaena took a deep breath as she entered the cavern that housed Cannibal. The immense space was cloaked in shadow, the air thick with the scent of ash and sulphur.

Aerion, clinging tightly to her hand, looked up with wide, apprehensive eyes as Vaena called out, "Naejot Māzīs Cannibal" (Come forward).

The ground beneath her feet trembled as Cannibal’s massive scarred black form emerged from the darkness. His low, rumbling growls of recognition echoed through the cavern, creating a rhythm of sound that seemed both ominous and reassuring.

Vaena approached her dragon with a mixture of awe and relief, placing her head on Cannibal’s scaled flank. His presence, despite the gravity of their situation, was a calming balm for her troubled heart.

Holding Aerion close, Vaena climbed the rope ladder that was affixed to Cannibal’s saddle. The dragon had never been particularly fond of being saddled. In the early days, his dislike had been so fierce that several dragon keepers had met grim fates.

But time had tempered his hostility, and though he still displayed his displeasure, he now accepted the saddle as a necessary part of his existence.

Once she and Aerion were securely fastened into the saddle, Vaena paused.

Where could they possibly go? They had no money, just three dragon eggs, two dragons, and a bag of clothes mostly belonging to Aerion.

Harrenhal was not an option, given her anger towards her father for his role in Jaehaerys' death. And seeking refuge with her mother's allies was equally out of the question, as her mother would undoubtedly pursue them and demand her return.

The only viable destination was one she knew she shouldn’t consider, but with few options remaining, it was her only choice. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead.

With a determined resolve, she gave Cannibal the command to fly. The massive dragon lumbered out of his cavern, his powerful wings unfurling with a great rustle of scales.

Cannibal’s roar was thunderous as he ascended into the night sky, his presence casting a large shadow over the landscape.

As they soared upward, Silverwing, flying alongside them, approached with caution. Known for his fearsome nature, Cannibal was not a common companion in the skies, and Silverwing, despite her gentleness, remained wary.

Vaena spoke softly to her dragon. "Lykirī" (Be calm).

Cannibal responded with a rumbling purr, and then propelled himself forward, Vaena wrapped her cloak tighter around Aerion, to keep him warm as the air became colder.

As Dragonstone began to fade into the distance, Vaena steeled herself. She knew that their destination was fraught with its own risks and complications, but it was the only option left.

"To Kings Landing."

Aemond sat in his chambers, the weight of his decisions pressing heavily upon him.

He yearned for his wife and the comfort of her embrace, he missed his son and his sweet little voice.

They were lost to him now, because of what he’d done.

It was his own fault, all his wife had ever done was love him, and he only caused her pain in return.

His own mother had turned on him, his brother was broken and burnt and now his sweet sister refused to look at him.

Manhandling her had been wrong, he knew that now. But he was just so desperate. Their lives were in peril, and he was the only one fighting to save them.

He didn’t know what to do, not anymore.

Then the quiet of the evening was interrupted by the sudden entrance of a guard, who rushed in, his expression one of urgency.

"Your Grace, two large dragons have been spotted flying towards King's Landing!"

Aemond stood abruptly, striding over to the balcony with quick, determined steps.

"Shall we arm the scorpions?" the guard asked, his voice tight with concern.

"No. Stand down," Aemond commanded firmly. His sharp gaze scanned the horizon, and his heart skipped a beat as he recognized the familiar silhouette of Cannibal.

He would not have his wife's dragon shot out of the sky. "Send a number of guards to meet my wife and escort her to my chambers immediately."

The guard bowed deeply before hurrying off to carry out his orders. Aemond's eye remained fixed on the sky, watching as Cannibal and Silverwing circled the Red Keep, their roars echoing through the air before they descended to land where Vhagar was resting.

Aemond's mind raced with questions and emotions. Why had Vaena chosen to return and would Aerion be with her?

The last time they had seen each other, the memory of her angry, tear-streaked face haunted him. She had begged him not to go through with usurping the throne, struggling against him as he locked her and Aerion in his chambers.

Since her escape, Aemond had written countless letters, each one a blend of anger, desperation, and declarations of love, none of which he had the courage to send. Those letters now lay forgotten, stuffed in his desk drawer, mere relics of his turmoil.

As he waited for Vaena, Aemond began pacing his chambers, he was more nervous now than he had been on their wedding day and even the bedding.

But a lot had changed since then.

The sound of approaching footsteps and a knock on his door pulled Aemond from his reverie.

"Enter," he said, straightening up, his arms hanging by his sides.

The door opened, and Aemond was greeted with the sweetest of sounds. "Daddy!"

Aerion’s small figure rushed into the room; his little arms outstretched. Aemond caught his son in a tight embrace, lifting him up and holding him close.

"Aerion," Aemond whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he buried his face in his son's hair. The boy's familiar scent brought a rush of warmth and sorrow.

Vaena entered the room behind her son, her presence both a comfort and a reminder of the chasm that had grown between them. Aemond met her eyes, his heart aching with unspoken words.

"You've come back."

Vaena's eyes were wary, her expression a mix of relief and guardedness. "I had no other choice," she replied, her voice steady but laced with tension.

After a few precious moments of holding Aerion close, Aemond reluctantly pulled away. He summoned one of the maids, who appeared promptly at his door.

"Take care of him," Aemond instructed, his voice gentle yet firm. "Ensure that guards are posted inside the room and at the door to protect him."

Aerion looked up at his father, his small hand clutching Aemond's sleeve. "Do I have to go, Daddy?"

Aemond knelt down to his son's level, brushing a strand of silver hair from his face. "I promise, it won’t be for long-I just need to talk to your mother"

Aerion smiled, his reluctance easing. He allowed the maid to take his hand, and she led him into the room across from Aemond's chambers.

Aemond watched until the door shut behind them, his heart heavy.

Turning back to Vaena, he barely had time to register her movement before her fist collided with his nose.

He reeled backward, his hand instinctively going to his face to stem the flow of blood. "That was for Luke," she spat, her eyes blazing with fury.

Before he could recover, she punched him again, this time in the stomach.

Aemond doubled over, dropping to the floor as he wheezed in pain. "-And that was for Rhaenys," she declared, her voice cold and determined.

As he struggled to catch his breath, Vaena knelt in front of him, her expression softening. She took his face in her hands, her touch both tender and firm.

"This is for me," she whispered, before pressing her lips to his in a fierce, desperate kiss.

Aemond's mind swirled with the intensity of her actions, the pain of her blows mixing with the undeniable longing in her kiss. He responded, his hands reaching up to hold her, afraid she might slip away.

The kiss was a collision of anger, love, and regret, a tumultuous expression of the emotions that had built up between them.

When they finally pulled apart, Aemond looked into her eyes, his voice raw with emotion. "Vaena, I-" He struggled to find the words, the weight of his actions pressing heavily on his shoulders.

"Don't," she interrupted, her voice trembling. "Not yet-" tears glistened in her eyes.

Vaena helped Aemond to his feet, guiding him gently to sit on the bed. She inspected his nose with care, her touch both tender and clinical. "It's not broken," she declared, "but it will be sore for a while."

Aemond wrapped his arms around her, pressing his face into her chest and inhaling her familiar scent.

The comfort of her presence washed over him, and he closed his eye, savouring the moment. Vaena stroked his hair gently, but then she abruptly stopped and stepped away.

"Is it true?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Aemond opened his eye, confusion evident. "Is what true?"

Vaena's face contorted with anger and hurt. "Did you visit a brothel on the Streets of Silk?"

Aemond's heart sank. "How do you know about that?" he asked cautiously.

Vaena's eyes filled with tears. "So, it is true? You've bedded another woman? Betrayed our marriage vows?"

Aemond quickly shook his head. "I went to a brothel, yes. I sought comfort from the madam, but I was never intimate with her."

Vaena backed away, shaking her head as tears streamed down her face. Aemond got off the bed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close despite her resistance.

"Vaena, please," he pleaded. "I never laid with her in that way. After you left with Aerion, after what happened with Luke, I was desperate. My mother was furious with me; she couldn't even look at me. I had no one else to turn to. Going back to Sylvi was wrong, but I couldn't help it. I just wanted to be held by someone who didn't hate me."

Vaena's body trembled in his arms, her tears soaking into his shirt.

Aemond gently cupped Vaena's face, wiping away the remaining tears. "How did you find out?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with concern and curiosity.

Vaena's expression hardened. "Ulf told me."

"Who is Ulf?" Aemond inquired, his brow furrowing.

"He's one of the common folk who claimed Grey Ghost," Vaena replied, her tone dripping with disdain. "He's a wretched cur with no manners, and it disgusts me that my mother has defiled our birthright by allowing commoners to claim dragons."

Aemond's frown deepened. "Who claimed Vermithor?"

"A man named Hugh Hammer," Vaena said, shaking her head in frustration. "My mother was hoping that Silverwing would be claimed too, but Vermithor killed all of the other dragon seeds."

Aemond's eye widened with surprise. "Vermithor killed them?"

Vaena nodded. "Yes, and my mother still wishes for someone to claim Silverwing. But I couldn't allow it. She had promised to let Aerion try to claim her when he was old enough, but she broke that promise."

Aemond's grip tightened on her shoulders, a mixture of anger and determination flickering in his eye. "So, you brought Silverwing with you?"

Vaena nodded again, her expression resolute. "Yes. I convinced Silverwing to come with me to King's Landing. I couldn't let my mother's broken promises endanger Aerion' birthright."

Aemond's gaze softened as he looked at Vaena, a mixture of pride and admiration shining through his concern. "You did the right thing," he said quietly. "You protected our son and our legacy”

Vaena sighed, her tension easing slightly as she leaned into Aemond's embrace. "I just want us to be safe," she whispered. "To find a way to end this madness."

Aemond held her close, his heart swelling with a renewed sense of purpose. "We will find a way," he promised. "Together."

Vaena took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she had to say next. "There's something else I need to tell you," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

Aemond looked at her, his eye narrowing with concern. "What is it?"

"Your mother-she's gone to Dragonstone."

Aemond's expression shifted from concern to anger and shock. "What?"

Vaena continued, her voice steady but filled with tension. "Alicent advocated for the lives of Helaena and Jaehaera in exchange for my mother successfully claiming the Iron Throne without bloodshed. She told her of your plan to travel to Harrenhal to meet Cole and his army. Alicent has arranged for my mother to come to King's Landing in three days. She will command the guards to lay down their weapons and open the gates."

Aemond went ballistic, his fury palpable as he paced the room, clenching and unclenching his fists. "My own mother-betraying us? How could she do this?" He stopped and turned to Vaena, his face twisted with rage. "Did she advocate for anyone else besides Helaena and Jaehaera?"

Vaena shook her head, her eyes filled with sadness. "No. She agreed my mother’s demand to have you and Aegon publicly executed, which will no doubt extend to Daeron as well"

Aemond's face contorted with a mixture of horror and fury. "She has sentenced not just one but all of her sons to death," he spat. "What madness possesses her?"

Vaena stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm in an attempt to calm him. "I don't know, Aemond. I was just as shocked as you when I heard it."

Aemond's eye blazed with anger. "She thinks she can protect Helaena and Jaehaera by sacrificing the rest of us? She's lost her mind."

Aemond's shoulders slumped as the weight of the revelations pressed down on him. "I'm alone," he said quietly, his voice filled with despair. "I thought what I was doing was right. It wasn't about the Iron Throne. It was about saving our lives. But after what I've just heard-what's the point? I give up. If my own mother won't even try, why should I? I've got nothing left."

Vaena stepped closer, placing her hands gently on his face, her eyes filled with love and determination. "You're not alone, Aemond. You have me and Aerion. We're your family, and we need you. We could leave Westeros, fly across the Narrow Sea, and get as far away from this war as possible. We could be happy, just the three of us. We could have more children, live in peace. We could be together."

“What if Rhaenyra comes after us?” asked Aemond.

“Then I will do what I must in order to save your life” replied Vaena.

Aemond looked at her, the hopelessness in his eye beginning to soften. "What of my mother-“

"Your mother has sold you and your brothers out," Vaena interrupted, her voice firm. "If my mother takes the Iron Throne, you will die. I don't want you to die, Aemond."

“I deserve it” muttered Aemond.

Vaena's voice broke, and she began to sob, clutching at him desperately. "Please don't leave me," she cried, her tears soaking his shirt. "I don't want you to die. Please, Aemond"

Aemond felt a pang of guilt and sorrow as he held her trembling form. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and burying his face in her hair. "Vaena, I won’t leave you," he whispered, his own voice choked with emotion.

She looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "Then let's leave," she said, her voice trembling. "Let's leave all of this behind. We can find a place where we can be happy, where we can raise Aerion in peace. Please, Aemond. Let's go."

Aemond held Vaena close, his arms wrapped tightly around her as she sobbed against his chest. He hushed her gently, his mind reeling with a sudden, profound realization.

What was the point of everything he had done? He had lost his eye, transformed himself into a capable swordsman and dragon rider, studied relentlessly, and attended to his duties with unwavering dedication.

He had strived to be the perfect son, and yet it was all for nothing. Despite always being told that Rhaenyra was the enemy, his mother was now clinging to her skirts, begging for scraps and bending the knee at the cost of her sons' lives.

Vaena was the only one who had ever seen him for who he truly was. She loved him, blessed him with a son, and yet he had done nothing to earn it. He had killed her brother and her grandmother, attacked his own brother at Rook’s Rest, and burned down Sharp Point, watching from the cliffside as people writhed and screamed in agony.

He had done all that, and yet here she was, crying for him, begging for his life, and offering him everything he had ever wanted—a family.

Aemond took a deep breath and gently took Vaena's face in his hands, lifting her tear-streaked gaze to meet his.

"Let's go," he whispered, his voice steady and filled with a newfound determination. "Let's leave it all behind."

Vaena's eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, she searched his face as if trying to comprehend his words. "You mean it?" she asked, her voice trembling with hope and fear.

Aemond nodded, his grip on her tightening. "Yes, I mean it. We'll leave Westeros. We'll fly across the Narrow Sea and start a new life, just the three of us. We'll find peace and happiness away from this madness."

A sob of relief escaped Vaena's lips, and she threw her arms around his neck, holding him as if she would never let go. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Thank you, Aemond."

He kissed her forehead tenderly, a sense of calm settling over him. "We'll make it through this," he promised, his voice filled with conviction. "Together."

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace, Aemond felt a weightlifting from his shoulders. The path ahead was uncertain, but for the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope.

They would leave Westeros and all its chaos behind. They would build a new life, far away from the shadows of their past, and they would find happiness together.

"Let's get Aerion-” Vaena said softly, pulling back to look into his eye. "Let's leave tonight."

Aemond nodded, a sense of urgency mingling with his newfound resolve. "Yes, we’ll leave tonight-" he agreed.

As Vaena turned to leave the room, Aemond took hold of her, and pulled her close, kissing her with a fervour that took her breath away

His hands tangled in her hair, and he whispered against her lips, "We will leave but I need you, Vaena. It's been too long since I last felt your touch."

Vaena looked up into his eye, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yes," she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Yes, Aemond."

They began pulling at each other's clothes, their urgency growing with each passing second. Aemond's hands trembled as he undid the ties of her riding leathers, and Vaena's fingers fumbled with the fastenings of his tunic. The material fell away, piece by piece, until they stood before each other, bare and exposed.

Aemond's gaze roamed over her body, drinking in the sight of her. He backed her towards the bed, his hands never leaving her skin. "Gods, I've missed you," he murmured, his voice rough with longing.

Vaena reached up, her fingers brushing the scar over his eye, a reminder of the sacrifices they had both made. "I've missed you too," she replied, her voice thick with emotion.

As they reached the bed, Aemond lowered her onto the soft sheets, his body covering hers. Their mouths met again in a searing kiss,

Vaena smiled slightly as she hooked her fingers around her own small clothes and slowly pulled them down, Aemond could feel himself salivating as he stared at her cunny.

“Come here-” growled Aemond, as he reached out and tugged Vaena back on the bed.

“Let me take care of you” muttered Vaena as she placed kisses along Aemond jaw and then down his neck, making sure to gently nip and suck his skin as she went.

She carried on moving down, pausing as she reached his chest, she grinned as she took one of his nipples into her mouth, her tongue teasing it before she bit down.

“FUCK” moaned Aemond.

“Does issa Jorrāelagon like that?” asked Vaena as she moved across and gave his other nipple the same attention, (My love).

“Oh. Gods” whimpered Aemond as she moved further down his body, her tongue and teeth grazing his pale skin.

When she reached the trail of hair from his belly button down to his cock, she pressed her nose against him and giggled when she felt the hair tickle her skin.

“Kostilus” begged Aemond (Please).

“Ao līs umbagon issa zaldrīzes” replied Vaena (You must wait, my dragon).

Aemond lost his senses the moment Vaena’s warm, wet mouth quickly wrapped around the head of his swollen cock.

Her tongue gently moving around the tip – tracing the ridges and licking off that drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.

“Fuck, Vaena!” groaned Aemond as he threaded his fingers through his wife’s silver hair.

Vaena ran the flat of her tongue along Aemond’s length, tracing every hard inch of him.

“Your taking me so well. Such a good girl” moaned Aemond.

Aemond knew it would push the limits of his control, but he did not care. He just had to watch his cock disappear into Vaena’s mouth and see it come back out, shining with her spit.

Her head moving back and forth, her perfect pink lips stretched around him.

“I’m not going to last if you carry on” Aemond admitted, though it pained him to do so.

Vaena smiled slightly and began moving faster, also using one of her hands in rhythm with her mouth.

“It feels so good-that’s it” groaned Aemond.

Vaena responded to his statement by relaxing the back of her throat, and swallowing as much of her husband’s cock as she could, whilst her other hand cupped his stones.

“Shit-Vaena. I’m going to come. Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” shouted Aemond as he exploded.

His wife took every last drop, swallowing his warm seed and licking him clean.

When he recovered, Aemond saw Vaena’s self-satisfied smile.

“Was that to your liking husband?” asked Vaena.

“Y-Yes. Now get up here and ride my face until I’m ready again” gasped Aemond.

“But your nose” whispered Vaena concerned.

“I don’t care-get up here-now” ordered Aemond, his cock already twitching with interest.

Vaena hovered above Aemond’s face; her knees splayed on either side of his head.

“Such a pretty cunny" breathed Aemond as he ran the flat of his tongue along Vaena’s soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Vaena her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it Issa dōna. Let me hear you” (My sweet).

“YES. It feels so good” whimpered Vaena.

“FUCK” growled Aemond.

“Ooooh A-Aemond-just like that” shrieked Vaena.

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Vaena, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Vaena "Please. I need more”.

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.

“Oh" whimpered Vaena; her chest heaving as she began to gently roll her hips against him.

“That’s it, ride my fucking face” groaned Aemond, his cock was so hard that it was boarding on painful.

Vaena was giving off a slew of loud swear words, moans, and pleas, that anyone passing his chambers would surely hear.

Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.

“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me baby, come for daddy” moaned Aemond.

Finally, he felt Vaena’s inner walls start to flutter around his fingers, squeezing them. Vaena’s back arched taut as a bow and she screamed her release.

Aemond pumped slowly and lapped at his wife’s centre as she came.

After a few minutes, Aemond gently urged his wife to move down, so she was hovering above his cock.

Her hand wrapped around him, running the head of his cock along her warm wet folds.

“Your such a tease” moaned Aemond as his hips jerked involuntarily.

“But it feels so good” replied Vaena as she slowly moved down on his cock, so only the tip of him was inside her.

“P-Please” whimpered Aemond.

“Uh-uh” said Vaena shaking her head from side to side.

After a few minutes Aemond couldn’t take it anymore and seized his wife’s hips, before surging up and ploughing his hard cock into her soaked cunt.

"AEMOND!" screamed Vaena.

"Gods. You feel so good-missed you-" rasped Aemond.

"Fuck me, Aemond" urged Vaena, her tone bordering on desperate as she rolled her hips against his.

Aemond started to thrust slowly, trying to prolong the feel of his wife squeezing his cock.

“P-Please. Husband” whined Vaena as Aemond began teasing her pearl with his thumb.

“That’s it-take all of me”

“OH-MY-“ shrieked Vaena Aemond began to move.

"Faster, please" begged Vaena.

“Like this?” replied Aemond as he gave a quick deep thrust.

“Yes, Aemond, just like that-" panted Vaena.

Her hands ran along his arms, over his shoulders and down his chest, digging her nails into his pale skin.

“Gods, Vaena" grunted Aemond, speeding up slightly.

"Fuck me, Aemond" whispered Vaena "Fuck me with that big, cock of yours. You feel so good inside me, filling me up. Give me what I need. Give me your seed. I want it”.

Aemond knew exactly what Vaena was doing, and he couldn’t help himself.

Vaena wanted faster and he was going much faster now, his feet planted on the bed to give him more leverage and his pace increased with every filthy word that dropped from his wife’s luscious lips as he pounded into her.

“Aemond-I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Vaena; not caring if anyone could hear them.

Vaena always looked amazing when she came. Her head thrown back in pleasure, her amethyst eyes alive with lust, and her pale skin shining with sweat.

Aemond then withdrew, ignoring Vaena’s whimper of protest as he rolled her onto her back and quickly sheathed himself inside her again.

She wrapped her legs around Aemond’s waist, drawing him closer as he began to thrust inside her, his cock reaching deep inside.

“I-I’m going to give you my seed-” moaned Aemond.

“Yes-oh don’t stop-please Aemond” whined Vaena.

“I’m going to put another babe in you-See you full of milk-”

“Y-Yes A-Aemond-I want another. Give it to me” whined Vaena.

That, combined with how glorious Vaena felt, pushed Aemond over the edge, the heat shooting across his abdomen.

“-I love you-love you so fucking much-my wife-don’t leave me again” babbled Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he spilled his seed inside his wife’s wet heat.

After they had got dressed Aemond and Vaena worked quickly, their movements synchronized as they made the necessary preparations to leave. The tension and urgency of their situation lent them a sense of purpose and determination.

As they packed, Vaena presented Aemond with the bag containing Silverwing’s eggs.

“What do you want to do with these?” she asked, her eyes reflecting both the gravity of their situation and the love she had for him.

Aemond took the bag and laughed softly. “You truly are something special,” he murmured, marvelling at her brazenness not only had she absconded with a dragon that wasn’t hers, but three eggs as well “They need to be kept warm and safe.”

Vaena nodded, carefully wrapping the eggs back up. “We’ll protect them,” she promised.

Aemond then mentioned his plan to raid the treasury. “Most of the crown’s wealth has been divided and hidden, but whatever is left should be more than enough for us,” he said.

He left for the treasury, returning a short while later with a sack full of coins, along with some of his mother’s jewellery he had managed to steal, and a necklace that was pressed into his hands by Helaena who bid him farewell, he apologised to her for how he acted, but she simply smiled and told him that the eye of the gods was closed to him now.

He packed his weapons and anything else of value from his chambers.

Their dragons were large enough to carry what they needed, and they prepared Aerion for the journey, making sure he had something to eat and was well wrapped up.

They told him they were going on an adventure, and his face lit up with excitement.

Aemond then left the guards with simple instructions: “Guard the Red Keep until the Dowager Queen returns.”

After gathering all their bags and ensuring the ancient sword Blackfyre was securely attached to his waist, Aemond took Aerion’s hand, and the three of them made their way to the dragons.

Aerion eagerly wanted to fly with his father, and as they strapped themselves into the saddles, Aemond took one last look at the Red Keep, its imposing towers silhouetted against the sky. The only home he’d ever known was now lost to him, instead of sadness he felt a strange sense of relief, that finally for the first time in a long time, he could choose his own path, he could forge his own destiny.

He checked one last time that Aerion was secured safely in front of him and then he took a deep breath.

“Sōvēs” he commanded Vhagar, his voice steady and resolute (Fly).

Vhagar spread her massive wings and ascended into the clouds. Moments later, she was joined by Cannibal and Silverwing. The three dragons soaring together, leaving King’s Landing and everything else behind.

Alicent returned to the Red Keep from her meeting with Rhaenyra, her heart heavy with the weight of her decisions. She felt overwhelmed and heartbroken. The image of Rhaenyra’s cold determination haunted her, and the reality of what she had agreed to gnawed at her soul.

In three days, she would open the gates, command the guards to lower their weapons, and surrender the city to Rhaenyra.

Sacrifices would need to be made to regain peace, but she would be steadfast and see an end to this ceaseless war.

Upon reaching her chambers, Alicent immediately poured herself a cup of wine. She downed its contents in one gulp, hoping the liquid courage would steel her for the days to come.

She needed to appear as she always had done—composed, resolute, unwavering. But the turmoil inside her was relentless.

As the wine settled in her stomach, Alicent allowed herself a brief moment of vulnerability. She sank into a chair, the enormity of her decision washing over her. She had betrayed her own sons for the sake of peace.

Aemond would shortly be leaving for Harrenhal, unaware of the treachery she had committed. Aegon was broken beyond recognition, and both were to be sacrificed for the greater good.

She had chosen the lives of her daughter Helaena and granddaughter Jaehaera over the rest of her family, and the weight of that choice threatened to crush her.

Alicent’s mind raced with thoughts of Aemond. He had always been her strongest, her most determined child. She had seen his ambition and his anger and now she was about to betray him.

The pain of it was almost too much to bear, but she knew she had to. She had to put an end to the bloodshed, to the war that had torn their family and the realm apart.

She stood up, straightening her spine, and took a deep breath. She couldn’t afford to show weakness. She needed to be strong, for the sake of the realm, for the sake of those she loved. She brushed away the tears that threatened to fall and steeled herself for what she must now do.

Alicent walked to the looking glass and assessed her reflection. She adjusted her gown, smoothed her hair, and ensured her expression was one of calm determination.

She could not waver. The realm needed her to be strong, to be the Queen they had always known. With one final deep breath, she turned away and left her chambers, ready to face the consequences of her actions and the role she must play in the days to come.

She would not waver. She could not waver. The future of the realm depended on it.

Alicent approached Aemond's chambers, noticing with a sense of unease that there were no guards stationed outside. The absence was peculiar and unsettling.

She knocked on the door, but there was no answer. For a moment, she considered walking away, but a feeling of urgency pushed her to act. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open, calling out to Aemond.

But only silence greeted her.

Stepping inside, she glanced around the room. The wardrobe door stood ajar, drawing her attention. She walked over to it, intending to close it, but stopped short when she saw that it was empty.

A sinking feeling grew in her stomach as she moved to the drawers, pulling them open one by one, each revealing the same emptiness.

As she stood there, her foot brushed against something small on the floor. Bending down, she picked up a wooden dragon figurine, instantly recognizing it as belonging to her grandson, Aerion.

Just then, a maid entered the room. Alicent turned to her, a mixture of desperation and anger in her eyes.

"Where is the Prince Regent?" she demanded.

The maid looked at her calmly and simply replied, "Gone."

Alicent's heart raced. "What do you mean, gone?"

The maid explained, "The Prince Regent left the Red Keep some time ago in the company of Princess Vaena and their son, Prince Aerion."

Alicent was baffled by the maid’s admission. Instead of questioning her further, she turned and swiftly left the room, her mind reeling. She needed answers, and she knew where to find them.

She hurried to the council chambers, hoping to find someone who could shed light on what was happening. As she entered, she found only Jasper Wylde and Maester Orwyle engaged in quiet discussion.

"Where is Aemond?" she demanded, her voice sharp with anxiety.

Both Jasper and Orwyle looked up, surprised by her sudden entrance.

"Your Grace, we have just received word that the Prince Regent has left the Red Keep. We were about to send for you."

"Left?" Alicent echoed, feeling a mix of relief and fear. "Where has he gone? Why?"

Jasper cleared his throat. "Princess Vaena arrived earlier today and spent several hours with the Prince Regent in his chambers. It seems that after their time together, they departed from the Red Keep with their son”.

“T-To Harrenhal?” asked Alicent.

“No. Your Grace. His dragon was last spotted flying over the Kings Wood”

Alicent's mind raced, trying to piece together the implications. She could have sworn she had seen Vaena lurking on Dragonstone.

Then a thought struck her like a blow—what if Vaena had overheard her conversation with Rhaenyra and had immediately flown to the Red Keep to warn Aemond?

Without another word, Alicent left the council chambers and hurried to see Helaena. She found her daughter sitting quietly in her room, gazing out of the window.

"Helaena-" Alicent asked urgently, "Have you seen Aemond?"

Slowly Helaena turned to her mother; her expression serene. "He has gone and taken his heart with him"

Alicent felt a pang of despair “He cannot just leave. H-He has d-duties to attend”

“Duties which no longer hold meaning” whispered Helaena, as she held out a scrap of parchment.

“W-What is this”

“He asked me to give it to you” replied Helaena softly.

‘Alicent,

I know of your treachery and your willingness to sacrifice the lives of your sons in favour of the pretender. For years now, I have suffered the indignity of being the second son and have been unwavering in my duty, but it was never good enough for you or Father.

I tried my best to keep us alive, but it seems my efforts are all for nothing. I have abandoned the throne, just as you have abandoned your sons, and I will no longer fight to save the undeserving.

My wife and son are all that matter to me now, and my future lies with them. I hope your efforts to secure the throne for your beloved Rhaenyra are worth it. Maybe now you can mourn me, Mother. I lost you, but I have gained so much more in doing so. At last, I am finally free.

Aemond’

Alicent collapsed into a chair and sat staring into the flames, Aemond's note clutched tightly in her trembling hands. The weight of what she had done settled heavily on her shoulders.

She had made arrangements with Rhaenyra, hoping to secure a fragile peace by offering the lives of her sons.

But now, Aemond had abandoned King's Landing, and her carefully laid plans were in ruins.

What would happen now? Rhaenyra would come, as promised, to take King's Landing. She would discover that Aemond had fled, and would accuse Alicent of aiding in his escape.

Alicent's heart pounded as she considered the consequences. Aemond was responsible for the death of Rhaenyra's son, and there was no way she would allow him to live his life free from the consequences of his actions. Not with her own daughter, Vaena, standing by his side.

Alicent felt a surge of panic. She had underestimated Rhaenyra's resolve and overestimated her ability to control the situation. The absurdity of her plan now struck her with full force.

She had hoped to protect her family by betraying her sons, but in the end, she had driven Aemond away and left herself vulnerable to Rhaenyra's wrath.

She rose from the chair and began pacing the room, her mind racing. She needed to think, to find a way to salvage the situation.

But what could she do? Aemond was gone, Vaena and Aerion with him. She had no leverage, no cards left to play.

Her thoughts turned to Helaena and Jaehaera. She had advocated for their lives, hoping to secure their safety. But now, with Aemond's departure, would Rhaenyra honour that agreement? Or would she see it as another betrayal?

As she pondered her next move, a sense of resignation washed over her. She had fought for so long, schemed and plotted to keep her family safe. But now, she realized, there was no way to win. The game was over, and she had lost.

All she could do now was try to minimize the damage and hope that, somehow, her children would survive the storm that was about to descend upon them.

Epilogue.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond x oc #aemond #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #prince aemond

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 2 months

Text

It's Time To Face Reality

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Princess!Reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

Warnings: kidnapping, angst

Summary: You find the courage and strength inside yourself to be the hero for once. With everything over and done with, you have no choice but to go back to your old life and leave the one person who made you feel so alive.

Play Pretend Masterlist

Square Filled: physical toll for @mfbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

“Whatever move you’re going to make, follow through with it. If you’re ever in a situation where you don’t feel safe, the best thing you can do is follow through. If you give them a single spark of weakness, they will strike where it hurts.”

“Ben, I got it. Now punch me,” you grin.

“You’re trouble,” he chuckles.

Ben continues to teach you how to defend yourself if you ever find yourself in a situation where your life is threatened and Ben isn’t there to protect you.

You roll your head to the right and crack what you can to work out the kinks. James had you moved to one of the back bedrooms while they figure out what to do with you. The clock ticking is the only thing you can hear inside the room, reminding you that you have five more hours until they cut off one of your limbs. You’re not sure if they’ll really do that but Ryder is eager to cut into something.

Your arm is getting numb from the way they’ve tied both behind your back. If you don’t escape now, you’re going to suffer a lot. Fuck this. I’m not going to be a damsel in distress. You’re not going to wait to be rescued when you can do it yourself.

Ben taught you better.

Calliope and Elliot arrived in America as soon as they could. They traveled with Kylen and two other guards for their own protection. Spencer tries not to let their presence scare him but it’s intimidating to know the girl he likes has such high security. Calliope hasn’t stopped crying which is understandable while Elliot holds a hard look in his eyes.

“Tell me you know where our daughter is,” Elliot says to Hotch.

“Your Majesty--”

“Please, Elliot. We’ll be spending a lot of time together.”

“Elliot, we’re doing everything we can to find your daughter before anything bad happens. We’re the very best team and we’re working hard.”

“I never wanted this for her,” Calliope cries.

“Your Majesty, James Volkov is the one who took Y/N,” Ben says.

“What can you tell me about him?” Hotch asks.

“His hatred for the Richmond bloodline goes deeper than Y/N. He broke into the palace when she was barely a year old and then again when she was six. It’s why we hired Ben to look after her. Even before I was Queen, he was obsessed with stealing from my family. He’s money and power hungry.”

“My mother was thinking of marrying James’ father even though he wasn’t from a royal bloodline. Our tradition that we’ve upheld for centuries is to marry another from a royal bloodline. He manipulated her into giving him more money than he deserved. Then, she met my father who made her realize what a disgusting person James’ family was,” Elliot explains.

Hotch sighs and looks at the table in thought. They hadn’t wanted to put James’ picture in fear that he’d hurt you earlier than he said he would.

You’re not going to give them the chance to.

After an incredible amount of patience and strength, you were able to get out of your binds. You might have bruising on your wrists from how hard the ropes were digging into your skin but that’s a price you’re willing to pay. You open the door slightly and see everyone huddled together in the living room. Macy is furiously typing on her laptop while the men are talking over one another, trying to keep their voices down.

“What are we going to do if they don’t send it? Are we really going to kill her?” Kellen asks.

“Whatever we have to do,” James says.

“They have our pictures,” Macy says. She turns the laptop to show all five of their pictures on the FBI website. “This changes things.”

“This changes nothing. Do you know how long I’ve evaded the law? We’re going to be fine. The Richmond family does not scare me.”

You’re not going to give them the opportunity to hurt you. You have to escape now. You close the bedroom door slowly and quietly before taking stock of what you have. What would Ben do if he was here? Ben. Spencer. Oh, Spencer. I hope you’re alright.

Spencer comes in with two water bottles and hands them both to the King and Queen of Yacleira.

“Are you going to pay the ransom?” Rossi asks.

“That bastard will not get a penny of my money,” Elliot says angrily.

“He has Y/N, honey,” Calliope says with tears in her eyes.

Elliot sighs as his resolve crumbles away.

“We’ll send them whatever they want.”

Penelope pulls up the email chain that James had used to send them a picture of you along with their ransom demand. Since there is an email attached to it, she can use this as a direct line to them.

“Do you think they’ll take cash? We could schedule a meetup,” Spencer says. “Make them bring Y/N as proof of life.”

Penelope sends the email off, getting another one minutes later.

“They refuse to meet up. They expect the entire thing to be deposited.”

“It’s not going to be easy sending that kind of money in a lump sum,” Hotch sighs.

“Ask them if they’ll take it in payments,” Rossi says.

Penelope sends the email and it’s not long until she gets one back. The emails are projected onto the big screen so that everyone can see their reply.

Only if you want your daughter’s fingers sent to the FBI as punishment.

“Hotch, we need to look at the area where her phone was last.”

“You’re right. Take Morgan, Ben, and Prentiss with you.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll bring her home to you,” Ben promises.

The four of them take a sleek black SUV over to the gas station where your phone was last pinged in. The gas station is on a desolate road heading out of town so it’s not busy. Whoever is working would have to remember you or the people you were with. Derek and Emily go inside to talk to the attendant while Ben and Spencer stay outside.

“You love her, don’t you?” Ben asks.

“I don’t know about love,” Spencer sighs. “All I know is that she’s the first girl in a long time to make me feel so… alive.”

“Yeah, I get it. I had that.”

“What happened?”

“I wasn’t quick enough.”

Spencer doesn’t pry knowing it must hurt to think about not being able to save the person he loved. Derek approaches the attendant who puts her phone down when she notices them.

“Hi, we’re agents Prentiss and Morgan with the FBI. We’re looking for someone we believe came through here.” He takes out a picture of you and shows her. “Have you seen this woman?”

“No.”

“They might have kept her in the car to prevent people from seeing her,” Emily whispers to Derek.

Derek takes out the pictures of Jacob and James and shows her.

“Have you seen these men?”

“Yeah, they came through late last night. They were with two other men and a woman. The woman stayed outside and got gas but the four men came in.”

“Can you describe any of them?” Emily asks, taking out her notepad.

“The woman had short, cropped hair. Red, I think. One of the men had a Justin Beiber haircut with piercings on his lip and eyebrow, and another man had tattoos up and down his arms. Big muscles.”

“Did you notice anything strange about them?”

Spencer walks inside with Ben as the attendant is talking to Derek and Emily.

“They were talking in a language I didn’t recognize. Clearly, they were pissed about something. They practically threw the cash at me when they paid.”

Emily notices a camera placed on the ceiling behind the young woman facing toward the front door and the cash register.

“Does that camera work?”

“Yeah. The owner wanted to get one after the fifth time someone came in trying to steal something.”

“May we look at the footage from last night?”

“Be my guest.”

She moves out of the way so that Spencer can work the cameras. The TV is small and grainy but the camera is good quality so the picture is clearer than the normal CCTVs. Late last night, a large SUV pulls into the gas station and pulls up to one of the pumps. The car is obstructed due to the pump they pulled into and the way the camera is angled. However, the passenger window is shown just enough to see you resting your head against the glass with your eyes closed. They must have drugged you to prevent you from getting away.

The woman gets out of the car and starts pumping gas but she is out of view of the entire frame. Four men walk inside the gas station and try their best not to show their faces on the camera. Either they knew this place only had one camera or they’re paranoid at every place because they might have cameras.

Like the attendant says, they throw the money in her face and leave as fast as possible just as the woman with the red hair finishes with the gas. They all get into the car and peel out as fast as possible. The camera isn’t wide enough to see past the road for a few feet, but Spencer sees the direction they went in.

“Do you have any idea where these guys might have gone?” Derek asks.

“I’m not sure. Like I said, they didn’t speak any English.”

“Is there anything out here?”

“Yeah, the old Garrison farm a few miles up the road. Take a right out of here and it’s literally the first road you see off to the right. It’s a dirt road. They didn’t like many people visiting but the property is a hundred acres give or take a few.”

“Thanks.” They leave the gas station and head back to the car. “Do you think they took her there?”

“Only one way to find out.”

“You don’t think… You don’t think they hurt her, do you?” Ben asks.

“Only one way to find out,” Spencer answers regretfully.

He hopes you’re okay and if you’re not, alive.

You go to the window that’s not boarded up and open it only to be met with a mesh screen. You push on it but there isn’t any give. They might have glued it or did something to prevent it from being kicked out. You look around the room and see clothes hung up in the closet. Clothes that are on wire hangers. You take one of the hangers and bend it until the metal snaps in two. Now you have a sharp side.

You walk back over to the mesh covering and stab it with the sharp end of the hanger. It takes a bit of strength on your part but if you keep at it, you’ll have created a big enough hole for you to jump through. Thankfully, this farmhouse is only one story so you’re not worried about breaking a leg. You’re so focused on creating the tear that you don’t hear the bedroom door open.

“Hey!”

You look behind you to see Kellen standing there with a shocked look on his face. You toss the metal to the side and tear the rest of the mesh with your hands. Just as you fit your leg through it, he pounces on you.

“Let go of me!” you shout loud enough to alert the others.

You fall forward onto the ground so that the only part of you still in the house is your right leg. Kellen has a death grip on your leg but you’re not giving up.

“Guys! Help! She’s escaping!”

You jerk away from him only to use every ounce of strength you have to kick him in the face. He falls back with a shout of pain, letting go of your leg. You fall to the ground but scramble to your feet as soon as you can. You take off running anywhere that’s not this farmhouse. The front door slams open and all five of them filter out of the house in a panic.

“Find her! Bring her to me!” James yells loudly.

You almost trip over the rocks but you keep running until you can’t see the farmhouse anymore.

“You can run all you want, princess, but we’ll find you. You won’t like what happens when we do!” Jacob shouts.

It’s so dark outside that you’re not sure where you’re going but that’s not going to stop you from running. Thankfully, you can see the trees so you’re not smacking into them. Your heart is racing at the thought of being caught. What if there is nothing around for miles? Are you really going to keep running without knowing what’s out there? What if you’re in their domain and there are more dangerous people out there?

No, don’t think like that. Your lungs are begging to relax and your legs are burning but you won’t stop running. In the distance you see headlights, and being there is a lot better than being with James. You run toward them in hopes that whoever is behind the wheel is friendly. You push through the thick shrubs and fall to the ground right in front of the car. It screeches to a stop before it can hit you, and you put your hand up to block the bright headlights.

“Please, help me.”

“Y/N!”

All four doors open and four people come clambering out of the car. You look up and see two familiar sets of eyes looking back.

“Spencer? Ben?”

“We’re right here. You’re safe now,” Ben says.

“They’re out there looking for me right now. There’s a farmhouse up the road.”

“Come on.”

Spencer and Ben help you into the back of the car just as Emily and Derek get back in the front. They turn the headlights off and lowly trek back to the farmhouse while still staying in the shadows. Derek and Emily get out while Ben and Spencer stay in the back with you. You faintly hear Derek call for immediate backup, and you lean your head on the headrest tiredly.

Spencer looks at you and wants to apologize but nothing comes out. You’ll have time to reconnect later. Backup comes quickly which is enough to arrest all five individuals involved. They’re brought back to the BAU where you discover your parents are. Your mom and dad run over to you, and you run into their arms with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry for leaving,” you cry. “I didn't mean for all of this to happen.”

“We’re glad you’re okay, baby. You’re safe now,” your mom says.

The paramedics met you at the BAU to assess your injuries which are minor. You were treated for your bruised wrists and the small cuts on your face from the branches. You and Spencer stand off to the side while your parents are with Ben, Kylen, and the rest of the BAU.

“I’d like to take all five of them back to Yacleira if possible. They will face Yacleiran justice,” Elliot says.

“Of course,” Hotch nods. “Interpol will be notified of this as well.”

“I’ll call my contacts,” Emily offers.

You look at your parents and sigh sadly. You know what’s coming next. They know you’re here and it’s not like they will leave without you. You’re old school. They won’t break tradition for you.

“I’m sorry for keeping this a secret from you.”

“No, don’t be. I shouldn’t have left.”

“Spencer, I can’t stay here. My parents will be taking me back to Yacleira where I’m to marry Prince Henry of Vosharia. I thought… well, I thought I was the type of girl who could have what everyone else had. It doesn’t matter anymore, I guess.”

“It’ll always matter.”

“Not to someone like me.” You pull Spencer in to kiss him, and he kisses you back like it’s the last kiss you’ll ever share. Maybe it will be. The thought breaks your heart. “No matter what happens, Spencer, you were the best thing to ever happen to me.”

You look at the briefing room and see both your parents watching you and Spencer. He hates to see you walk out of his life but what can he do when the King and Queen of Yacleira calls back their Princess?

He stands on the side and lets it happen. What’s a man like him going to be able to provide for a woman like you?

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fiction #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst

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humanpurposes · 3 months

Text

I Have Always Been A Storm, Part 3

Read the full chapter on AO3 // Main Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x Floris Baratheon

In the year 128AC, Floris Baratheon weds Aemond Taragryen, a daughter and a son both driven to duty, now bound to each other when the realm is on the brink of war. Floris is enamoured by the Prince, but love is something she can only hope will bloom once her vows have been said before the eyes of the Seven- AU where Aemond and Floris marry before the Dance of the Dragons.

Warnings: 18+, smut, pregnancy, arranged marriage, canon divergence, angst, possibly quite a lot of angst, hurt/comfort

A/n: I watched episode 2 and went... yeah he needs an emotional support wife <3

I don’t flinch at the sound of steel. I stand steadfast on the outlook over the yard, my hair loose about my shoulders, my gown one of Baratheon black and gold. The clouds over King’s Landing this morning are heavy and ominous. I could almost imagine I am back at Storm’s End, watching the knights spar in the courtyard before the drum tower.

Aemond is a graceful fighter, but brutal and precise. He has no taste for tourneys, he does not fight for performance. He parries and deflects the blows from Ser Arryk’s sword with ease, then once he finds an opening he makes short work of disarming his opponent, forcing him to his knees and placing the blade against his throat.

The closeness between Aemond and I ebbs and flows. As of late we are making good progress; I’ve been watching his morning sparring sessions for the last few weeks. Afterwards we’ll retire to his chambers and take luncheon together before we part ways until the evening. Last night we dined with the Queen, and having returned me to my chambers, he kissed me.

He does not smile when he looks up at me from the yard. His expression is gentle and not quite passive. He says I am a good wife. He says he is content to have me by his side, and yet he leaves me to an empty bed each night. I keep waiting for the moment he’ll decide we are ready to fulfil our vows. In the meantime I despair that I am no different from any girl at the Red Keep who dreams of a handsome husband and a perfect marriage which is not yet in reach. At least Helaena has her children to keep her occupied; I might as well be unmarried.

Aemond and Ser Arryk take their positions again.

Aemond lurches forward to strike first. His opponent meets him with swift, succinct blocks, but Aemond is eager to match him in speed. There’s a stiffness in his shoulders as he moves, but he must keep his head in the right position, he must not let his blindspot leave him vulnerable to an attack.

I catch glimpses of his face as he moves, his lips pressed together, his single eye dark and determined.

A nervous feeling flutters in my belly.

A small crowd has gathered to watch them, nobles, other knights, servants, looking upon my husband with both admiration and fear– I feel a sense of pride in the awe Aemond inspires.

Suddenly he falters.

Ser Arryk takes the opportunity to disarm him, but Aemond is not one to concede easily. He draws the knife on his belt, ducking to avoid Ser Arryk’s blows, until he’s close enough to aim the knife at the knight’s throat.

Ser Arryk anticipates this and drops his sword, fighting with his hands to keep some distance between Aemond’s knife and his skin. The crowd is anxious now. The slashes of Aemond’s knife are too close. I dig my nails into my palms to stop myself from reacting too obviously.

Ser Arryk grabs Aemond’s right wrist with his left hand, and throws a fist towards the left side of his face– his blind side.

I feel the impact as if I’ve been struck in the stomach.

Aemond freezes, dropping his knife. He covers his face with his hands. There is no blood that I can see but my heart races.

I’m halfway down the steps before I realise what I’m doing.

Ser Arryk is horrified with himself, trying to offer some help to the Prince, only for Aemond to push him away. Servants gather, unsure of what to do, hovering around him like he is a wounded beast.

I push people out of my way so I can reach him. I place a hand over his, where he cradles his eyepatch. His breathing is quick and heavy, his hand is shaking under my palm.

I whisper, “I’m here.”

He tugs at my sleeve, a bruising grip sinking through the fabric and into my skin, around my very bones. He leans into me, his forehead pressing against the top of my head. “I’m fine,” he grits through his teeth.

“My Lady,” Ser Arryk begins, “I’m sorry– I must have acted out of impulse– I–”

“Fetch a maester,” I order.

“Not necessary,” Aemond says.

Ser Arryk hesitates.

“Fetch a maester!”

“No!” Aemond says, suddenly straightening his back and releasing me from his hold. My heart sinks at the sight of his scar, flared, red, angry. He keeps his fists clenched by his sides, denying himself the pain. “That will be all, Ser Arryk, I shall retire to my chambers.”

He marches off and I trail helplessly behind.

Full chapter on AO3

#my fics #florismond #floris x aemond #floris baratheon x aemond targaryen #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fic #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #floris baratheon #aemond targaryen smut #asoiaf fanfiction #asoiaf fic #asoiaf fanfic

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runningmunson · 2 years

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My Fierce Lady - Part 2

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 1.7k Summary: After the events of your attack, you felt helpless. You asked Aemond to teach you to fight so you can gain some control back into your life and finally feel brave. Part 2 of My Fierce Lady. Warnings: traumatized reader, mentions of previous attack, use of a sword, slight angst, fluff, soft Aemond

Masterlist

Agony. You were in agony. Everything had been so different since you were attacked and forced to take a man’s life. Anyone would change if it had happened to them, you believed. Aemond reminded you daily that you are strong and brave, that you and your children were still alive and breathing, and that the man was in the ground where he belonged because of you. Yet you still lived in fear every day, terrified that someone would strike again, but you wouldn’t be so lucky.

That’s not to say that your husband and his family didn't try to make you feel safe. Your personal guards had been doubled. You were seldom left alone. You wouldn't step into your chambers, so they allowed you to move rooms. They exhausted resources to find whoever plotted to attack the Targaryen household. However, their attempts were futile. They never found who did it, and no matter what they did, you never truly felt safe.

Nightmares often plagued you. Too many nights you dreamed of Maelehra being murdered. You soon followed, only to be woken screaming and crying in the arms of Aemond as he tried to calm you. Your stress and anxiety were so severe that the maester put you on bed rest until the birth of your son.

You thought things would be better after you brought your son, Rhaegar, into the world, basking in the joys of a newborn, a male heir for your husband. You were sorely mistaken. The maester chalked it up to melancholy as your body adjusted to a new state of motherhood. The royal family tried to keep it hidden. Everything was always kept in the family, never wanted to reveal their personal weaknesses to outsiders. But it was hard to ignore the whispers around the Red Keep with rumors of you going crazy and behaving worse than your sister-in-law, Helaena.

You spent a lot of time with Helaena in her chambers, doing needlework as your children played on the floor together with the nannies. Rhaegar was usually fast asleep in his cradle. You had a feeling your mother-in-law, the Queen, had something to do with your time spent behind closed doors, not that you minded too much. You dearly loved Helaena and preferred her company over the other ladies in court.

—

For once, you were having a good day. Your anxiety was at bay and manageable. The children were behaving excellently. You knew everyone was safe, and you finally settled in once you checked several times that there were two guards outside the door.

“That looks quite lovely, sister! You stitch our sigil far better than I could,” Helaena’s eyes were wide as she smiled brightly, complimenting your work. You were working on embroidering the Targaryen sigil on a new dress for Mae.

“That is very kind of you to say. Your spider looks exquisite,” you smiled back at her. You genuinely meant it. While you did not share the same affinity for insects, you were always enthusiastic about her interests and ready to learn.

“Thank you, it’s a zebra spider. We have these in our garden,” she replied, then returned to her work.

It was relatively quiet in the room, with an occasional sound coming from the children. All your focus was on the dress until your concentration was broken. The door opened without anyone knocking, and an unknown man stepped inside the room.

You immediately stood up, a scream slipped from your lips. It startled your son awake, and he started crying. Your heart was racing, and you felt as if you could be sick. No, you thought, this cannot be happening again. As quick as you stood, you backed into a corner. You sat down with your hands over your ears and eyes tightly squeezed shut.

Helaena shooed the man out of the room and told the nannies to remove the children. She slowly approached you, afraid to disturb you even more. You could see her mouth moving but heard no sound. The only thing you could hear was ringing. Tears welled up in your eyes. She turned to the guards and demanded they go get her brother at once.

Aemond made his way to his sister’s chambers in record time. “I am so sorry, Aemond. It was a new servant, he didn't knock first.”

“It’s fine, Helaena.” He looked at you, seeing you in a catatonic-like state. Your hands had not moved from their spot on your head, but your eyes were now wide open, blankly staring at the wall. It made him angry to see you as a shell of what you once were, no longer the carefree and lively woman he fell in love with. He turned to his sister, “May you give us some space please?”

Helaena left the room, and Aemond made his way to you. He crouched down, blocking your vision of the wall. Your eyes finally focused when you saw your husband in front of you and not another stranger coming to kill you. He reached up to take your hands off your face, noticing the scratch marks your nails left behind. With your hands in his, he gently kissed the back of both.

“I’m here now, love. I got you. You are safe. Nothing is going to hurt you,” he spoke in a soft, calming voice- one reserved for only you and your children. The words he spoke were familiar as he often said these like a mantra in the dark of your room after your nightmares. You threw yourself in his arms, catching him off guard as he almost fell. He steadied himself and pulled you in close, once more repeating those words.

When your heart was steady and mind clear, he pulled you up to the ground and led you to the comforts of your own chamber. As soon as the door was shut, you turned to him.

“I cannot do this any longer,” you said to him, voice cracking in desperation.

“Do what, my dear?” he questioned.

“Live in fear, no longer feeling safe in my own home. I wish to be free of this anguish! I want to feel as brave as you say I am. I want you to teach me how to fight,” you said to him. It was something you had thought about for some time but too afraid to address until now.

“I don’t know,” he said hesitantly.

You knew it was unbecoming of a lady such as yourself to fight, but you were at a complete loss at what to do. It wasn’t as if Aemond thought that of you though. He always believed you could do anything you wanted. He never tried to control you or put you in your place unlike the other men of the court. Fighting could be dangerous, and he just wanted to protect you.

“Please, Aemond. I need this. If you love me, you will grant me this wish,” you begged him, grabbing his hands and looking into his eye. You needed nothing more than to gain back some control of your life.

He nodded his head, “Then I will do just that, I promise you.”

—

Aemond led you to an empty room in the castle. You were adorned in pants and a tunic, your hair in a single braid falling down your back. He was finally going to teach you how to fight with a sword.

When you made your way into the room, he shut the door behind you for privacy. You noticed a few weapons were already laid on a table. There was a dummy filled with sand in the middle of the room as well.

“Now, today we will learn the basics of defense, just a simple thrust and slice. Let’s go pick you a sword,” he walked over to the table. and you followed. You knew how heavy swords could be, having handled Aemond’s sword once to see what it was like and almost dropped it in the process.

He handed you several, having you do a few mock swings to see which one felt best in your hands. You picked a lighter sword, the blade a typical silver color with a black and red hilt. The pommel housed a blue jewel. How fitting, you thought when you noticed it was similar in color to the sapphire where your husband’s eye once was.

When you were satisfied with your choice, you made your way to the middle of the room where Aemond was waiting. With the sword placed tightly in your hand, he led you into the proper stance. He used his leg to move your feet where he wanted them. His back found its way flush against yours. One arm wrapped around your waist to straighten you out. The other helped you hold your sword to the correct height, pointing to where you needed to strike. Whiffs of your scent flooded his nose as he held you close. You were disappointed when he pulled away.

“Alright, keep that stance. This should be an easy one. Draw your arm back and simply thrust it forward,” he said, his hands placed firmly behind your back. He was intensely watching your every move, making you a bit nervous. You drew back the sword and plunged it into the chest of the dummy. When you removed the sword, sand spilled on the ground.

“Good, you have just defended yourself. Now put yourself back into the same position, and I’ll show you how to slice,” he explained the movements once more and let you do your thing.

You stood the way he told you, doing a spin to gain momentum before slicing either side of the dummy. Once more, sand flowed from the cuts. Aemond started clapping. You turned to smile at him, finally starting to feel a small amount of control for the first time since your attack.

“My, oh my. Who knew the Gods blessed me with a wife who is a natural in the art of the sword,” he smiled, looking proud.

You laughed, “ Well, I have watched you practice in the courtyard often, my dear husband. Maybe I can be as good as you one day.”

“I’ll make a fighter out of you in no time, my fierce lady.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fluff

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jilyawards · 3 months

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The Jily Fandom Rec List 2024 is a compilation of Jily stories our readers want to keep an eye on for this year's awards.

JUNE

Stranger Days, Brighter Nights (WIP, 16.3k as of 30 June 2024) by @minoukwrites. Rated T.

Regulus Black is in love with James Potter. Lily Evans is absolutely not. (In which Lily finds love and Regulus peace. A tale of secret crushes, unspoken yearnings, and quiet betrayals. But at its core, it's the fix-it I've always craved, full of fluff, angst, and all the tropes.)

Falls the Shadow (part 3 of The Darkest Days series) (completed, 95.6k) by @seriousbrat. Rated M.

1977. The Queen's Silver Jubilee. Strikes, riots, violence, and increased political tension. A darkness seems to have descended on Britain, and the Wizarding World is no exception. As Lily, Severus, and the Marauders enter their seventh and final year at Hogwarts, the last rays of fading childhood herald a darker, unforgiving world, in which all face life-altering choices. Sev will stop at nothing to get what he wants, despite what it's already cost him— while Lily and the Marauders find themselves on the precipice of war. Part 3 of a canon compliant story spanning the last three years of Hogwarts up until the end of the First Wizarding War.

in losing grip (WIP, 97.1k as of 30 June 2024) by keep_driving. Rated M.

“I’ll see you again?” She’d asked. “Someday, when we’re older.” “Obviously,” he told her. A promise without any boundaries, without any concrete truth. “Obviously,” she whispered back. Like it was that simple. - For her, summer did not exist before him. Now that it's been gone for so long, she wonders if it ever truly existed at all.

Filipendulous (completed, 30.2k) by @seriouslysam8. Rated M.

An attack on Diagon Alley in July 1980 leaves James Potter cursed and on death’s door.

Querencia (completed, 10k) by @thelighthousestale. Rated T.

que·ren·cia: a sanctuary where you feel safe The time Lily, James, and Harry spent as a family in their little house in the West Country was far too brief, but it was overfilled with love, laughter, and, above all, life. Moments of Lily and James at Godric’s Hollow told in five parts for @mppmaraudergirl's 'Alight With Happiness Fest'.

Rumor Has It (completed, <1k) by @thelighthousestale. Rated G.

Severus doesn't believe the rumors that Lily finally agreed to go out with James Potter.

The Roe Deer And The Knight (completed, 2.1k) by @annabtg. Rated G.

The tale of a magical roe deer and a knight who had to learn humility.

Fixed Luck (completed, 1.3k) by @annabtg. Rated T.

The books warn: excessive intake can cause giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence. But good luck is addictive.

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT (Jily's Version) (oneshot collection, 1k as of 30 June 2024) by @wearingaberetinparis. Rated E.

And so I enter into evidence, My tarnished coat of arms. My muses, acquired like bruises, My talismans and charms. The tick, tick, tick of love bombs, My veins of pitch black ink. All is fair in love and poetry. A Jily TTPD Drabble Collection

The Tooth Fairy (completed, <1k) by @jfleamont. Rated T.

Harry loses his first tooth, so James pulls one of his pranks on his son.

In Love and War (WIP, 338.9k as of 30 June 2024) by Icepen. Rated M.

After a horrible summer before her Seventh Year brings the war to her doorstep, Lily Evans knows one thing for certain-- she will not be safe at Hogwarts anymore. Her position as Head Girl, her new friendship with the Potter heir and the disgraced Black heir, the sudden and tragic murder of her parents all shoves her into a limelight she never wanted. Learning to cope with her grief and her trauma, Lily needs to navigate the treacherous waters of her new situation as the war against people like her escalates in the world she is about to graduate into.

Think I Know Where You Belong (Think I Know It's With Me) (WIP, 80.2k as of 30 June 2024) by @wearingaberetinparis. Rated M.

At thirty-three years old, Lily Evans fears she may not quite have lived up to her potential. Single and living alone – if one does not consider her cat a flatmate, that is – her days are blurs of monotony, most of her students getting more action than she has seen in the past decade. (Hyperbole gratuitously applied.) Insert James Potter – former classmate and unrequited crush – who appears to be on a mission – aside from promoting his fourth novel – to point out all of her flaws, while strutting the hallways of their former secondary, the place she has never left and he will forever haunt now that the board has decided to name the school library in his honour. (F*ck her life.)

Heavier The Crown (WIP, 135.9k as of 30 June 2024) by @sidlarsson. Rated E.

Fifty years after the First Wizarding War, Teddy Lupin stumbles across a secret about the ghost of Lily Evans. The truth will lead him deep into the past—unraveling a friendship marked by rivalry, betrayal, and one falling out of love with the other. “It—is you. I—thought I was dreaming.” His cheek was lifted. He was out of it, possibly from the effects of Dark Magic. “You—" and he seemed to struggle. His breath came in gasps. "I thought you were an angel.” Dark love story set during the First Wizarding War. Features General James Potter, Potions Master Lily Evans, and Death Eater Severus Snape. 1978 - 1982.

Check out the previous months' recs too: January, February, March || April || May

Happy reading!

#jily fandom rec list 2024

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tessa-liam · 5 months

Text

Turning the Page

Come Back to Me Chapter 12

Choices, The Royal Romance, AU

Series Premise: As Riley Brooks journeys through life as a single parent in New York City, an epiphany strikes as she contemplates the future for herself and her two-year-old son.

Turning the Page Series Masterlist My Complete Masterlist

Main pairing: Liam Rys x F!OC Riley Brooks

AAll characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except William Brooks (Rys) and Matteo Magro, who both belong to this series.

Category: On-going series, contains angst/fluff/depression. Cross-over fic with Choices, Perfect Match.

Rating: M 🔞 - Warnings – Series will contain crude language, weapons, NSFW material – not Beta’d - please excuse all errors.

Words: 3331

Come Back to Me, Chapter 12

Chapter Summary: As Liam and Riley’s visit continues in Lythikos, they are joined by guests from the Capital.

Music & Title Inspiration: Come Back to Me, David Cook

A/N1: A/N1: In this alternate universe, after King Constantine orchestrates two individual scandals to humiliate and entrap Riley Brooks and Olivia Nevrakis in shame, Madeleine Amaranth secures her position as the Queen of Cordonia. Riley, as the King’s mistress and Olivia, in self-imposed exile. Tariq is never found.

A/N2: Damien Nazario has been assigned as William’s personal bodyguard. (Series cross-over with ‘Perfect Match’)

‘...and when you see what you need to see

When you find you

Come back to me

...and I hope you find everything that you need

I’ll be right here waiting to see

You find you

Come back to me...’

Lythikos, Cordonia

Liam and Olivia sat together in the cozy sitting room of Nevrakis Chateau, their hands wrapped around steaming cups of dark roast Cordonian coffee. Through the large bow windows, they could see gentle flakes of snow falling from the sky, blanketing the landscape in a soft, pristine white.

The room was adorned with rich, dark wood furnishings, plush sofas and armchairs arranged around a crackling fireplace that emitted a warm glow. Paintings depicting scenic landscapes, adding to the ambiance of comfort and luxury tastefully decorated the walls.

Mischa and Zeus, Olivia’s malamutes, were vigilantly sitting at their mistresses’ feet as she and Liam conversed in hushed tones, their voices blending harmoniously with the peaceful surroundings. Occasionally, the king and duchess would pause to gaze out at the snowfall, admiring the beauty of nature's quiet spectacle as they awaited the arrival of their guests in the early morning.

"I appreciate you taking the time to spend with Riley." Liam smiled warmly; his cup of coffee half raised.

"Of course, Li ... after every obstacle she has had to overcome since arriving in Cordonia for your social season, she deserves validation of her worth.”

"She is struggling, trying to find her place here again.” Liam shook his head, the guilt once again overwhelming him.

"She'll find it.” Olivia observed her friend closely. Olivia sighed and put her cup down.

"Liam, I'm going to tell you something.”

"Okay.” Liam lifted his gaze from his hands in response with hesitation.

"I've never been good at saying these kinds of things, so I'll make this quick.”

"Go on, Liv.”

"You are my best friend, and I care about you. And I know that Riley is the woman for you. I've known that for some time now.” Olivia exhaled deeply. “Even though ...” Olivia twisted her fingers in her lap. “Even though, I wish it were me that you chose.”

Liam listened attentively to Olivia's words, his expression a mix of understanding and empathy. He reached out and gently placed his hand over hers, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"I value our friendship more than words can express, Olivia," Liam spoke with sincerity. "You've been by my side through thick and thin, and I cherish every moment we've shared."

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "As for Riley, she's an extraordinary woman, and I feel incredibly fortunate to have her back in my life. Our connection is deep and meaningful, and I believe she's the one I want to build a future with."

Liam's gaze softened as he spoke. "I understand your feelings, Olivia. You have always been a constant source of support and understanding for me, and I value that more than you know. I hope that you will always remember how much you mean to me, regardless of who I'm with romantically."

Olivia nodded, a small smile touching her lips. "I do know, Liam. And I'm genuinely happy for you and Riley. You both deserve all the happiness in the world."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of barking. The guests had arrived, and Liam and Olivia exchanged a knowing look, their unspoken bond of friendship and mutual respect stronger than ever after their confessions.

"Thank you again, Olivia.” Liam said as he stood to greet the guests.

"And if anyone tries to get between the two of you, I'll be right there by your side.” Olivia smirked.

"That's good to know, Liv.” Liam chuckled.

“By the way, have you heard from your ex-wife?”

Liam's expression changed, the lines around his eyes deepened, and his jaw tightened.

"Not a word.”

"You know I can personally locate her, right?”

"I have no doubt, but it's not necessary. I have assigned Damien to personally lead an intel team to track her.”

"Okay, but ....”

"She's not going to come between Riley and me.”

"Good. Because if she does, I will personally handle her.”

"You know, I have a feeling you're enjoying this more than you should."

"Perhaps.”

Liam chuckled as he turned to watch Riley with Willam walk hand in hand down the grand staircase.

"Good morning, love." Liam smiled as he bent down to kiss her cheek and reached down to scoop William in his arms.

"There she is...there is my little blossom!" Maxwell cried, running towards Riley engulfing her in a bear hug, lifting her off the ground. Bertrand, Savannah and Bartie followed greeting Liam and Olivia.

"It's good to see you too, Max. You look well." Riley laughed as he spun her around in the air.

"I'm not letting go until you promise to never leave me again."

"Alright, alright, put me down!" Riley giggled, feeling the warmth and affection of her Cordonian best friend. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We came to say hello, silly.” Maxwell winked, as Bertrand walked up to Riley to place a kiss on her cheek.

William tugged on Liam’s pants, "Who's that?" William gestured towards the little boy holding his mother’s hand.

"That's Bartie, buddy. He is Maxwell’s little nephew."

"Hi." William beamed as he waved to Bartie. Damien stepped forward in anticipation to follow the crown prince.

“Hi.” Bartie returned the greeting with a smile.

“Lady Riley, you look well.” Bertrand stood beside Savannah and Bartie.

“It's so good to see you both!” Riley moved up to hug Savannah and accept a kiss on the cheek from Bertrand.

"Bertrand, it's so good to see you."

"Likewise, Lady Riley. You are a welcome sight."

"Aww, thanks, Bertrand."

"And this must be William.”

Bertrand bowed to the crown prince.

"Yes. William, this is your uncle Bertrand.”

"Hello, William.”

"Hewwo." William shyly greeted him, hiding behind Riley's leg.

"Oh, my. This is awkward. I'm not very good with children." Bertrand said nervously.

"It's okay, Bertrand. Just be yourself.” Savannah gently pushed him forward

"Very well. I, ....um, brought you a gift."

Bertrand held out a small box.

"Aww, thank you, Bertrand. That is not necessary." Riley answered.

"Of course, it is. It is only proper etiquette. William is the crown prince of Cordonia." Riley grinned, shaking her head. “I stand corrected.”

***

Under the gently falling snowflakes outside Nevrakis Chateau, William and Bartie ran through the snow-covered gardens, their laughter echoing in the crisp air. Maxwell’s cheeks were rosy from the cold, and his eyes sparkled with childlike delight as he tried to catch snowflakes on his tongue, trying to impress his nephew.

Liam, scooping up snow to build a snowman with William, laughed heartily as he watched his son splayed on the ground creating a snow angel. His normally composed demeanor gave way to playful enthusiasm as he encouraged William's creative ideas for their snowy adventures.

Riley, with Savannah stood by with a smile, capturing the joyful moments with her phone. Her eyes glowed with happiness as she watched Liam and William further bond over the simple pleasure of playing in the snow.

Their guests, a mix of friends and family, joined in the snow-filled festivities. Laughter and good-natured banter filled the air as everyone engaged in snowball fights, built snow forts, and created snow angels together.

As the day progressed, everyone gathered around a crackling fire inside the chateau, sipping hot cocoa and sharing stories. The warmth of the fire contrasted with the cold beauty of the snowscape outside, creating a cozy and inviting atmosphere.

***

....later in the evening...

Surrounded by snow-peaked mountains, ensconced in romantic candlelight, Liam grasped Riley’s hand and led her to submerge down into the thermal waters of the outdoor hot tub of the Royal suite.

Riley sank down to let the warm water wash over her. "This is perfect, Liam.”

"It is.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying the peace and tranquility of the moment.

"What's going on in that sweet, beautiful mind of yours, Riley?"

"I was just thinking about how much time we've lost." Liam could see the hurt in her eyes mixed with unshed tears starting to form before she looked down, unable to keep eye contact with him. Liam reached over to gently lift her chin, as she became emotional.

"We'll make up for lost time."

"How, Liam?"

"By spending every moment together, cherishing each other, and never letting go."

"That does sound nice."

"It does."

Liam reached forward and brushed a strand of hair away from Riley's face.

"I promise you, love. I will do everything in my power to make you happy."

"I know, Liam.”

"So, are you ready to talk about the future now?"

"I am." Riley breathed in.

"Good."

Liam paused, gathering his thoughts.

"I want us to be a family, Riley. A real family.

"Me too, Liam. But, how do we do it?"

"We start by taking things one day at a time. We spend time together and get to know each other again. We take things slowly and enjoy the journey."

Liam looked at Riley with adoration, his eyes filled with love.

“Je veux t’emmener a Paris.” Riley quickly turned her head to look at Liam.

["I want to take you to Paris”]

“Il y a tellement de belles choses que je veux partager avec vous la-bas.”

["There are so many beautiful things I want to share with you there."]

“Okay, okay ... I caught the words, ‘Paris’ and ‘beautiful’.” Riley giggled and then waved her hand in the air. “Everything else went way over my head.”

Liam smiled wide and shook his head. “I want to take you to Paris and share the beauty with you.”

“The Eiffel tower was breathtaking.”

“There is so much more to Paris than the Eiffel tower.” Liam lifted Riley’s hand to his lips and turned her wrist over to gently kiss.

“Je dois montrer a l’amour de ma vie a quel point elle compte pour moi. Te revoir dans ma vie n’a pas de prix.”

[“I need to show the love of my life how much she means to me. To have you back in my life is priceless.” ]

Liam tugged Riley’s arm and pulled her onto his lap.

Cupping her cheek, he met her lips in a slow, sultry kiss, his tongue coaching her to allow him to take her breath away as his tilted her head to deepen the kiss.

Riley more than willingly let Liam take the lead. She missed the thrill she felt when he would take control and melted into his embrace.

Liam’s hands moved down to her waist pressing her body down against his, as Riley wrapped her arms around his neck she felt his impressive length as she could not resist grinding her hips down.

"Let's take this inside," he whispered huskily.

"Mmmhmm." Riley purred.

Liam rose up from the tub and lifted Riley up as she wrapped her legs around him. Dripping water and leaving a trail of wet footprints on the floor, Liam carried carried her inside to the bedroom.

With one arm supporting her, and the other opening the doors, they made their way inside.

"I've missed this," he whispered, kissing her deeply.

"So have I," she replied, her eyes half-closed, reveling in the feeling of his body pressed against hers.

They moved further into the room, stopping at the bed. Liam lowered Riley down onto the mattress, his body following hers.

Riley ran her fingers through his wet hair, pulling him in for another heated kiss.

"I need you, Riley," he whispered, his voice low and husky.

"I'm yours, Liam," she whispered back, her body responding to his touch.

Liam kissed down her neck, his hands roaming over her curves, exploring every inch.

"Liam," Riley moaned, her body aching for more.

“William ...”

“William is comfortably sleeping in the next room.”

Liam paused, as he kissed his way down her body, his hands caressing her breasts, his lips teasing her nipples.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

"I'm yours," Riley replied, her voice full of desire.

Liam kissed his way down her stomach, his hands caressing her hips. He parted her legs, his lips trailing over her inner thighs.

Riley could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her body aching for his touch.

"Please, Liam," she whispered, her voice a plea.

The world seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in each other's embrace. It was if time itself had paused, allowing them this moment of reunification after so long apart. Their hearts beat in unison, a rythym of longing and desire that had been suppressed for too long.

They collapsed on the bed, their bodies entwined, their breathing heavy.

Riley’s fingers traced the lines of Liam's face, memorizing every detail as if afraid this moment might slip away.

Liam, with a gentleness that belied his intensity, cradled her face in his hands, his eyes searching hers as if trying to convey a lifetime of unspoken words.

"I've missed you," Riley whispered, her voice barely audible above the rush of emotions between them.

Liam nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "I've missed you too, more than words can say."

"Stay with me," he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Always," Riley replied, her heart full of love.

Riley snuggled closer to Liam, their bodies fitting perfectly together.

"I love you," she whispered, her heart finally feeling complete.

"I love you too," Liam whispered back, his love for her shining through his eyes.

"This is perfect," she sighed, her body completely content.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his arms holding her close as he kissed her forehead.

***

The next day at Nevrakis Chateau in Lythikos dawned with a gentle warmth that matched the newfound closeness that returned between Riley and Liam. As they woke up entangled in each other's arms, the sunlight filtering through the windows painted their room in a soft golden hue.

Riley stirred first, her fingers tracing patterns on Liam's chest as she watched him sleep peacefully. She couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of contentment she had not experienced in a long time. With a gentle kiss on his cheek, she whispered, "Good morning, my love."

Liam blinked his eyes open, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he saw Riley's loving gaze. "Good morning, beautiful," he murmured, pulling her closer for a lingering kiss.

"Riley," Liam began, his voice filled with affection, "I have a special arrangement for William today. I thought it would be wonderful for him to spend the entire day with Bartie, Maxwell, Savannah, and Bertrand."

Riley's eyes lit up with delight at the thought of William having a day filled with fun and adventure with his friends. "That sounds fantastic, Liam! I'm sure they'll have a great time together."

Liam nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "I thought it would also give us a chance to have some uninterrupted time together, just the two of us. We can explore more of Lythikos, enjoy a quiet lunch, and simply cherish each other's company."

Riley leaned in, her eyes sparkling with affection. "I love that idea, Liam. Spending time with you like this is truly special."

They shared a tender moment, savoring the anticipation of a day filled with shared experiences and cherished moments. Liam's thoughtful gesture to arrange William's day with their friends allowed them the opportunity to reconnect and deepen their bond in the enchanting surroundings of Nevrakis Chateau and Lythikos.

After a leisurely morning together, they decided to explore more of Lythikos. Liam had planned a surprise outing for Riley, eager to show her some of his favorite spots in the picturesque region.

They ventured out hand in hand, enjoying the crisp morning air and the breathtaking views of the mountains surrounding them. Liam took Riley to a secluded spot overlooking a serene lake.

"I used to come here often to clear my mind," Liam shared, his eyes reflecting the tranquility of the place. "It's peaceful, away from the chaos of the palace."

"It's beautiful," Riley whispered, leaning into him as they watched the gentle breeze upon the water's surface.

As they talked and shared stories from their past, Riley felt a sense of belonging she hadn't felt in a long time. Being with Liam in such a serene setting, away from the pressures of their responsibilities, allowed them to connect on a deeper level.

After spending a blissful day together, they returned to the chateau in the evening, where a romantic dinner awaited them. Liam had arranged for a Michelin star chef to prepare a gourmet meal, complete with candlelight and soft music playing in the background.

Over dinner, they talked about their hopes and dreams for the future. Liam expressed his desire to create lasting memories with Riley, to travel the world together and experience new adventures.

"I want us to live fully, without any regrets," Liam said, his eyes locked on Riley's. "I want you by my side in every journey, every moment."

Riley's heart swelled with love, feeling overwhelmed by the depth of Liam's feelings for her. "I want that too, Liam," she replied, reaching across the table to take his hand. "I want us to embrace life together, to cherish every moment."

As the evening progressed, their conversation turned lighter, filled with laughter and playful banter. They danced together in the moonlit courtyard, lost in each other's arms, their worries and doubts melting away in the magic of the moment.

Eventually, exhaustion caught up with them, and they retired to their room, cuddled up in each other's embrace. With a whispered "I love you" and a tender kiss, they drifted off to sleep, ready to face whatever the future held for them, united in their love and commitment to each other.

Thanks for reading; please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from this series.

📌@ao719 @txemrn @queenmiarys @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @alj4890 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @bascmve01 @busywoman @kristinamae093 @kingliam2019 @emkay512 @karahalloway @malblk21 @tinkie1973 @emersyn-in-cordonia @dutifullynuttywitch @charlotteg234 @lovingchoices14 @kyra75 @imjusthereforliam

📌@choicesficwriterscreations

#tessa liam writes #the royal romance #liam rys #trr fanfic #trr #riley brooks #choices fic writers creations #king liam and oc #king liam #king liam rys #turning the page

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yuri-is-online · 5 months

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What are your ideas on Yutu’s Unique Magic?

Maybe Riddle!Yutu having a countering UM to his father, or Cater!Yutu having one that allows him to see the true in people, etc, etc…

Also, what if Yutu has a sister/brother back in his OG timeline? Did he bring them with or they just got left behind?

for context, check these posts (1) (2) or look at the Fyuuture kid section under series on my masterlist.

oof I have a lot. Unique magic strikes me as something that is supposed to be reflective of who the mage is as a person as well as the Disney character/concept the boy is based on. Since Yutu is not based on anyone really, we are more free with inspiration for his unique magic, with two exceptions. Idia and Kalim both have lines suggesting that their unique magics are passed down in their family's, though I imagine the incantation is different to each person; it makes sense for their Yutu's to have Gate to the Underworld and Oasis Maker respectively.

Before I really get into the weeds, I do like the idea of Yutu having (a) sibling(s) in the OG timeline, again because that can happen in Fire Emblem Awakening but also because it adds to the angst somewhat. As for whether or not he would bring them back in time, the answer to that is yes. Yutu has a few friends he traveled back in time with that are scattered around Twisted Wonderland with no way to contact each other, and if he had a sibling (with the exception of Malleus! Yutu whose sister is a bit... special) then they would be among that group. If you want some extra angst we can steal even more from FE: Awakening and make it so Yutu's sibling died before he arrived, maybe they turned into a blot monster that follows Grim's overblotted form as a replacement for his hench human.

We could even make it so Yutu's sibling doesn't have any magic, just like Yuu. You know. For the parallels ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Riddle! Yutu

Riddle! Yutu having a magic that counters his dad is such a good concept, especially for someone who initially hates him. There are two types of magic that we have seen counter Off With Your Head: Trey's Doodle Suit and a strong shielding spell used by Leona. I can think of a few directions to take this line of thinking, so let's start with the most grounded.

A strong shielding spell, one that can be applied to multiple people, sounds like a spell that thematically fits Yutu. We don't know a lot about how these spells function, but they're important for combat magic and shielding multiple people seems to be implied to be difficult. Let's say in this case it's natural for Yutu and essentially the same for him as shielding himself. This sort of spell feels like it should have a card themed name, Big Blind maybe? It's a term that refers to the minimum bet required to continue a poker game if I understand what I read correctly. The only card game I know how to play is yugioh

The less grounded approach could be a sort of spell that creates an anti magic field… it's a concept I did toy around with mostly because I was thinking about more Alice in Wonderland themed names for a unique magic, and thought up “Everything is Nonsense” or something along those lines. My one sort of caveat to this concept is that I think a spell like this would be heavily stigmatized, probably cause a lot of blot build up for a caster, and I'm uncertain of how it would work mechanically. Well that and I have an idea for a different Yutu who this spell would fit a bit better... but that would require me to cook with a different type of fire.

I did mention in my post about Riddle! Yutu that I liked the idea of his unique magic allowing him to shrink or grow because of Rule 42 in Alice Adventure's in Wonderland saying all people more than a mile high must be rejected from court. If Riddle is the Queen of Hearts, well then any time they argue all Yutu has to do is grow and then he won't be allowed to yell at him any more so there. As a side note do you think this logic could apply to the Chimera in the Prologue? Because I could see that being darkly funny if it comes up in game in that context.

Cater! Yutu

I had a really well thought out idea about Cater being able to see a limited amount into the future before I realized that I was describing the sharingan from Naruto so fuck me I guess.

So just hear me out, you know in twst battles you can see at least one of spells the enemy is going to use? That's sort of what I thought Yuu's unique magic would be if they had it, but I also like the idea of it being Cater! Yutu's. It would function more like an instinct than an actual vision (*clenches fist* just like naruto) but he can use his magic to tell what a person intends to do before they fully think it. Cater is skilled at divination so a unique magic that lets his kid see a little bit of the future feels like it could work for him.

Speaking of divination, I sort of also like the idea of Cater! Yutu having a magic that has something to do with stars and starlight. Maybe he can turn into a void like being made of cosmic energy, similar to how Cater's Split Card is symbolic of his many faces, Yutu's void form could be symbolic of how he feels displaced in the world.

Ace! Yutu

We don't know what Ace's unique magic is (yet) but there are a lot of theories. Time travel, something that steals another person's spell, something related to optical illusions?

I think it would be fun if Ace! Yutu could do something with reflections/mirrors. As in he can reach through mirror and attack, similar to how Hanged Man works in JoJo. The further the distance the more magic it takes, it can also work with things like water but that takes a lot more magic too.

Either that or he's able to travel between mirrors on his own without the dark mirror. That might be a much more difficult thing to do though...

Jade! Yutu

I have a very clear idea for what I wanted to do with Jade! Yutu's magic, but it's a bit complicated to explain because I'm not a physicist.

The basic idea was that Yutu is able to exert magical force on an object, so long as he knows it's exact dimensions and what it is made of. I called it "Crush the Heart" because I wanted both his and Floyd's Yutus to have magic to follow their dad's naming theme. To activate it he has to be looking at where the object should be and picture it in his mind, the more precise the crush the more concentration, control, and magic it takes.

The name could in theory be quite literal, but Yutu isn't quite there yet in his knowledge of biology or magical control.

Floyd! Yutu

Like I said, I want the twin's Yutu's to have a name that is similar to their dad's. Floyd's Bind the Heart uses Kanji that literally translates to "coiling tail"... which I guess is more similar to the magic I gave Jade! Yutu than the "gnawing teeth" that Shock the Heart does, but that magic is supposed to be something that requires calm collected control, which Floyd and his son simply do not have. Still, lets play off that and give Floyd! Yutu a magic that has something to do with shocks and teeth.

I think Floyd! Yutu should have a taunt. Floyd already loves the idea of a good fight, his son is really good at combat magic, and they both talk so much shit that the idea of that literally being his unique magic just sort of works.

Functionally the spell would work similarly to Jamil's, where the person has to look him in the eyes for it to work. The name of the spell could be something like "Reveal the Heart" but that does sound sort of stupid to me so I'm not sold on it. The spell makes a person unable to focus on anyone other than Yutu and wares off after a certain amount of time, it can fail in fashion similar to Riddle's if the enemy mage has a protection spell up.

Azul! Yutu

Another Yutu who I know exactly what I wanted to do with, I got the idea while playing Darkest Dungeon of all things. I feel like it's a bit lame though.

Azul! Yutu can create phantom limbs out of cosmic magic. When he is in octopus form those limbs take the form of human arms, and when in human form they take the form of tentacles. He says when asked that what he is doing is manipulating shadows because he likes to keep people on their toes (or fins take your pick) and he finds it very funny to watch people squirm when they realize there really is no escaping his grasp.

It is a very difficult magic to use, he needs physical strength to use those limbs because they are only as strong as his real ones, so he works out and a lot to make sure he doesn't hurt himself while using it.

Ruggie! Yutu

Laugh With Me is a perfect magic for a hyena to have, and it suits Ruggie's personality really well. Actually... I did write that his Yutu shares his laugh and I think it would be so painfully cute if that extended to his Unique Magic too. Ruggie makes a big deal about how he's kind of a crappy mage, how he has to do a lot of extra work to make up for his low mana pool and poor upbringing. Can you imagine how embarrassed, proud, and awed he would be if his son inherited his spell? That's something only great mages are supposed to have, not little guys like him. Good thing neither Yuu or Yutu care about that huh?

Vil! Yutu

I haven't done a post about Vil! Yutu really beyond this bit about him bonding with Vil, but I did mention what I think his unique magic would be.

I can't find it but I read a myth once about a painter who drew animals with a magic paintbrush that would bring them to life if he gave them two eyes, so he only ever gave them one. I thought it would be neat to have a spell like that and it feels like something that would fit Yutu Schoenheit very well. His magic allows him to create temporary familiars similar to Lilia's bats, bigger creatures take more magic and focus.

I wrote the name for this spell as "Technicolor Dream" since I thought it would be nice for the name of Yutu's magic to nod towards his father's job and his dreams about having his family back.

I have a lot more Yutu's chilling in my inbox, so I'll revisit this topic (lilia! yutu has a whole ask about his um that I really like) once we are done with round 2 of Yutu posting.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au

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tragedybunny · 1 month

Text

Fangs and Fairytales - Chapter 3

༺Summary༻

The Netherbrain has fallen and Baldur's Gate has been saved. Astarion and Serafina begin their life together in that very moment. Together they journey to find a way for Astarion to walk in the sun again. There's no shortage of adversity along the path, including Serafina's own warlock patron, Queen Titania. But together they can face it all and find their own sort of happily ever after.

Chapter 3: Sera is overwhelmed by her own emotions and Astarion does his best to be a supportive partner.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav/OC)

༺Warnings༻ Angst, hurt / comfort, trauma response, implied/reference self-harm

༺Word Count༻ 3470

༺A/N༻ Thanks to @icybluepenguin for all the work you put into this and all the encouragement. I couldn't do it without you. Mood board / banner from my lovely bestie @cilil (thank you love, you're the best)

Read on AO3 All chapter here on Tumblr

There was a rhythm to the days and nights that had developed since the Netherbrain had fallen, and that rhythm told him that he should be alone in bed at this point. Astarion would always come to bed to trance before Sera woke up, preferring to fall into trance beside her, but she would be awake and about before it ended.

Tonight though, there was an unmoving lump of blankets next to him, a cascade of black hair with striking blue highlights barely peeking out of it. A fact that set his every nerve on edge. It felt simply wrong. “Sera,” he whispered, gently caressing her arm to no response. “Serafina, my love, are you alright?”

“I'm fine,” her voice answered, softly and decidedly not fine sounding. “I just…don't want to get up.”

His heart sank down into his stomach as he closed the distance between them and wrapped an arm around her. Since he'd lost the light again, he'd been fighting to not see the world as only darkness, and Sera had been fighting right alongside him.

But the other night when they'd arrived at the refugee camp, the cost of that fight - and everything before - started to show. He'd been trying to be better, less bitter. Gods, how he’d been trying,

Maybe he hadn’t been able to pull himself out of it entirely but that night had been a slap in the face concerning how little he’d noticed of Sera’s emotions. Besides he was free, and he had someone who loved him - never mind the fact that he'd dragged her into the endless night with him - he should do better. He could do better.

“How can I help,” he asked softly, kissing into her hair.

“I don’t know, I’m just tired. I’m sure it will be fine if I get some rest.” Sera somehow pulled the blankets tighter around herself.

His sunken heart clenched and stuttered. It was a new sort of pain to be shut out of her feelings; like he was inadequate, unable to help. He pushed on, certain he had to do something for her as the back of his mind whispered about the scar running the length of her left wrist. The warlock pact may have kept her from explaining it, but he knew damn well what it was from. Could she fall that far again? “Perhaps something to eat? Or some warm tea?”

“Fine, I’ll take some tea,” she relented, still not emerging from her cocoon.

It was probably just to give him something to do other than lay here and fuss, but he latched onto it. Something was better than nothing. He kissed her again and rose from the bed, lighting a candle to bring some light to the room. “I'll be back soon, love.”

Quickly, he found yesterday's discarded clothes, and noted they would need to do laundry soon. A problem for another day. At least there was a reliable way to do said laundry in the camp, as opposed to the days on the road.

He was broken out of those thoughts but the sound of something scraping along the door to their room, followed by a soft chuffing. The damned dog had always been too smart.

Astarion hurried to the door. He hadn't exactly always been fond of the furriest of their companions, but tonight, he would accept all the help he could get.

The door swung open to reveal Scratch, waiting with his tail wagging. He almost sighed in relief; the mutt would ensure that Sera was not alone with her thoughts, thoughts that could lead to unpleasant actions.

“Well, you're not the vampire,” he snarked at the dog, “you don't need an invitation to come in.”

Scratch barked in response before walking right past him toward the bed. Astarion turned to watch him and found Sera finally pulling some of the blankets back to welcome her furry visitor, blue eyes looking watery and muddled.

“Hello, boy.” She moved over to allow him space on the bed, something that normally Astarion would be loath to allow, the thought of fur and dirt everywhere making his skin crawl. But he supposed an exception was in order for today.

“Take care of her,” he warned before turning to Sera and blowing her a kiss, which caused her to smile ever so slightly.

Out in the former Cloister of the Somber Embrace, the evening was just as busy as the daylight hours. Word of the place’s history as a temple of Shar had spread quickly, but it still was better than sleeping on the streets for the displaced. Families had been settled in groups in the large hall that had once been a place of worship, children ran and screamed, adults shouted over the din at one another, and Astarion glided through it all, a silent, swift ghost. At least the Bard that had promised to come play for the camp hadn’t appeared yet.

Across that hall from their room in the converted armory were the former living quarters of the Sharrans; including dorms, kitchens, and the baths. Briskly, he made his way toward the kitchen, intent on his goal. Tea was one of the few things he could manage in this realm; if food was needed, his plan had been to force Gale to assist.

The hour was late enough that the kitchens were empty. A couple of large stoves, two open fire places, and one brick oven served to feed the masses. Cupboards lined one wall, full of tools and small conveniences like spices and thankfully tea, meaning Astarion wouldn’t have to endure digging through the larder that lurked just beyond the kitchen.

The stove only had scare glowing embers lurking in it from the evening meal prep when he opened it. Astarion dumped some of a neatly stacked wood pile into it, unsure if it was for common use or someone had left their supply. They surely could spare it for the hero of Baldur’s Gate though.

“Ignis.” The wood burst into flames.

Serafina had been teaching herself wizard magic before the final battle, with a bit of Gale’s advice, but Astarion still could only manage a couple of cantrips. Not that he had been devoting a huge effort to it, but it still felt like something he should be able to do as an elf. The firebolt was something he’d been doing for as long as he could remember, at least as long as he’d been undead. Then one night in Rivington, he managed to conjure up dancing lights.

Sera had been tired that night as well. It hadn't been as troubling as tonight, she just seemed worn after the trek that had brought them so close to the Gate. And then they'd been plagued by Orin, happened upon a murder, and uncovered a conspiracy to distribute explosive toys to refugees. By the end of it all, she’d been nearly silent when they made their way back to the ruins serving as their camp.

The sun was dipping down towards the horizon as Sera settled down on one of the makeshift benches they’d assembled around the fire. Yenna, the child living in their camp for some reason, was assisting Gale with the evening meal prep. Sera looked too small with her arms wrapped around her chest and huddled in on herself.

He wasn’t used to playing the protector- hells he’d been trying to get her to play that role- but the sight of her like that stirred something in him. He’d been just about to sit down beside her when Shadowheart started in on the Sharrans that were supposed to be around.

It wasn’t as though he had no empathy for the rest of them. They were the closest thing he’d had to friends in two hundred years. But Sera came first, he’d make sure of it by any means. So instead of sitting, he leaned down and grasped for her hand. She shot him a confused look, dark brows knitting together over blue eyes.

“We’re done for tonight, you can bring dinner to our tent.” He gave an insistent tug and Sera rose to her feet.

“Astarion-” she started to protest.

“I’m exhausted, my love,” he wheedled, knowing his comfort would persuade her more than her own. “And I would very much like to rest after hiking all over today.”

“Fine,” she relented and allowed herself to be pulled along to the tent.

The look of contentment on her face as she relaxed into their nest of pilfered and ill-gotten blankets and pillows gave him the warmest feeling of satisfaction. Perhaps there was hope for him as a partner.

Joining her, he pulled her into his arms and kissed those impossibly soft lips of hers. That had to be fey magic, there was no way they were that soft after all the time on the road.

“See, isn’t this much better than listening to everyone prattle on all night? You can actually relax a bit.”

“I thought you dragged me in here for you.” They were both propped up on a mound of pillows, and Sera’s head rested on his chest, forehead pressed to his cheek, arm around his waist.

“No, I just know you won’t take the time for yourself.” He leaned down to brush his lips gently against the top of her head, the familiar scent of wildflowers and sun warmed forests washing over him. That was definitely fey magic. “Do you approve, Sunlight?”

She sighed contentedly, breath tickling his neck.

Dinner would be along shortly and he had a nice bottle of wine stashed away. The deepening darkness was starting to sink the tent into shadow. He should light a lantern, but he didn’t want to disturb Sera, whose breath and pulse were slowing to the point he knew sleep wasn’t far off. Perhaps…

Deep down, he knew he should be capable of more magic than one cantrip. “Fiat Lux.”

He made the hand gesture he'd watched her make before and aimed it at the ceiling of the tent. Four motes of light appeared and began to float in a lazy circle.

“Hmm.” Sera stirred at the sudden illumination, eyes opening up. “Did you do that?” Her voice was a sleepy whisper.

Astarion couldn’t help a prideful smile. “It seems I’m even more talented than I previously thought.”

“You are endlessly talented, love.” It was said with the mildest teasing, acknowledgement of the bravado he put forth to the world, but with a core of genuine appreciation.

If only he’d learned a cantrip to produce tea. He’d learned how hot the water should be based on the tea and to gauge the color to tell when it was done. But magic would be infinitely simpler. He’d ask Gale but he was sure the answer would be something along the lines of the magic being in the process when it came to tea.

Filling the kettle, he placed it on the stove and began rummaging through the cabinets for tea. The Wide had a night market, they might need to make a trek to the upper city to get some niceties and personal supplies.

When he reached the third cabinet that did not contain what he was seeking, he bared his fangs and hissed at it, slamming it shut. He’d promised tea and would damn well deliver it.

“What did the cabinet do to offend you, Astarion?” A voice behind him asked in a friendly lilt that would have once been haughty.

He turned around to greet Shadowheart, finding her clothed in a flowing teal robe with her white hair unbound and cascading around her shoulders. A far cry from the Sharran cleric he’d first met.

“It failed to produce what I needed.” he answered, trying to keep his voice light. “You don’t happen to know if there's any tea around?”

“It just so happens I keep a private stash.” Shadowheart headed for the larder and gestured for him to follow. “I assume it's for Sera.”

“No, I'm planning to sit around and inhale the vapors.”

She answered with a disapproving noise and headed straight for an aged, but finely made locked cabinet in a corner of the larder. Producing a small, silver key, she looked at it with a mixture of wistfulness and disdain. “Mother Superior's personal store, my inheritance.” The lock clicked open and the doors opened to reveal an array of herbs, tins, jars, and secreted-away sweets. “Is she feeling unwell? I haven't seen her yet tonight.”

“She…” He froze, unsure how much to reveal.

Another memory flitted across his consciousness, a conversation with Shadowheart and Halsin, just after that night in Rivington.

He'd known Sera had made an attempt on her own life and something about her worn look last night discomforted him. Even if she'd woken the next morning as happy as ever, planning to drag him to that circus that was in town.

He'd stayed behind as she, Lae’zel, Wyll, and Karlach had headed off to the local smithy. Normally he'd insist on being by her side but he had questions.

Shadowheart and Halsin were too curious about why he'd ask to learn about healing, quickly agreeing to his request to meet discreetly.

“Are you worried about draining Sera dry?” Shadowheart teased but stopped when he couldn't summon a witty retort.

“What questions did you have?” Halsin asked, much more gently, taking a seat next to him on the cushions outside Shadowheart’s tent.

He bit back an acidic reply, reminding himself that he'd invited Halsin to this conversation. Astarion hasn't forgotten the druid's attempt to proposition Sera. She “stirred his heart,” though he'd wager it was something else stirring.

Sera had, far too kindly, turned him down. But the attempt to taste what was his left a bitter taste in his mouth still. But he needed help. So he inhaled a breath he didn't need and plunged ahead.

“How would one - theoretically of course - heal a sickness of the mind?”

“There are some elixirs, of course,” Shadowheart said. “Is it a consistent malady or does it come and go?”

“Let's say it comes and goes.”

“I do have a tea, that when steeped becomes a natural remedy,” Shadowheart offered, and Astarion could see the concern for her friend slipping through the feigned hypothetical conversation.

“And do not forget the importance of being with someone if they suffer from a bout of this illness. Be there for them, show them they matter, hold their hand. It's a very dark place to be alone.” Halsin sounded like he knew from experience.

Astarion swallowed, the next question heavy on his tongue. “And what if it doesn't stop. What if there is worry they may… harm themselves.”

“Fetch one of us, night or day, it doesn't matter.” Halsin spoke with more sincerity than Astarion would normally allow without mocking.

“Agreed, even if sh- they think they don't want us involved.”

It had been reassuring at that moment, to know he'd have help if he couldn't care for her on his own. What did he know of caring for another?

And he still had that help. There wasn't anyone closer to Sera, besides himself, than Shadowheart. Who now stood by, eyeing him expectantly.

“She doesn’t wish to get out of bed.” The worry that he’d been pushing down crept into his voice, his words coming haltingly and hushed.

“I have been worried there would be some drop after everything. Do you want me to come talk to her?”

Astarion shook his head, too vigorously. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. She didn’t really even want to talk about it with me.”

Shadowheart paused and considered him before seeming to trust his judgment. “Alright, but here, let me give you this.”

Reaching into the cabinet, she pulled out a purple jar, the scent familiar as it hit his nostrils. Chamomile, mugwort, passionflower, and just a touch of magic; a tea she had brewed for their companions in the past when they’d been overwhelmed by their ordeal. She placed it into his hands with almost reverence.

“Let me know if you need anything else. Now hurry along and get that to her.” Even if she kept her tone light, the concern he felt was mirrored in her features.

With a full pot of tea and a cup, Astarion headed back to their room and his waiting beloved.

Scratch still occupied a corner of the bed, and Sera was awake, finally out from under the covers, with a couple of wall sconces lit. He briefly wondered if she had gotten up or lit them with a spell. By the look of Scratch’s head in her lap, he’d wager spell.

“Looks like someone made themselves comfortable,” he joked without malice, giving Sera what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“I missed this.” Sera stared down at Scratch’s head while she petted him gently.

Scratch had been roving the camp and making friends, but it hadn’t been that long since they’d seen him. Astarion just hadn’t been excited to have him hanging around for long periods. But desperate times. “Perhaps we could have him around more often.” He settled the tea onto the battered bureau they’d confiscated from somewhere down here. “Tea, as promised.”

He poured a steaming cup and passed it to Sera, lounging against the bureau to observe as she brought the cup to her lips, and blew on it. Inhaling the wafting steam, she closed her eyes and took a sip.

For a moment, Astarion was proud of himself. He’d done something he hoped would be a relief to her and he was managing his distaste for fur and barking. Then her brows furrowed and she looked up at him with a stare so icy it sent chills up his spine and he thought he heard a soft feminine gasp somewhere around them.

“Shadowheart’s troubled mind tea? Really?” she snapped at him, something she’d only done a few times before. “You just couldn’t keep it to yourself?”

Astarion felt something stirring he hadn’t in some time; fear, cold and hungry, gnawing at him, panic crushing down on him, and a need to appease, to placate.

“I-I’m sorry, my sweet, it’s just-”

“Just what? I can’t have any privacy? I can’t have a moment of weakness without everyone lining up to have some say in it? You panicked and needed something to comfort yourself?”

Shouting, Sera was shouting, and Scratch answered in a nervous whine. Astarion froze, feeling a wetness growing in his eyes. The world was narrowing down to just him and the very angry woman sitting in their bed. He should run.

He shifted his gaze to the floor, ashamed of his failure. “I’m sorry, I’ll go and find someone else to come keep you company.”

He started for the door- he had to get away-

“Astarion, wait.”

Would she hurt him? It didn’t matter, he supposed. He loved her anyway and he probably deserved it.

He stood there, sucking in breaths he didn’t need, waiting for whatever punishment she saw fit.

There was a soft clatter as the tea cup was placed on her nightstand. “Oh no, oh love, come here.”

Her voice had softened and Astarion looked up to see her arms open and without thought he went to her.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into the fabric of her nightgown, her soft embrace already pushing back the darkness. “Don’t…” No, that was ridiculous, Sera would never hurt him.

“I’m sorry too. I know you were just concerned. But I’m not everyone’s leader anymore and I just wanted to be able to feel what I felt, without worrying about anyone else.”

Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around her until they were both clinging to each other.

“I was scared,” he confessed. “I don’t know what I would do-”

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” She still sounded too tired for his liking. “Everything just feels like too much right now, and I want to just lie here and not face any of it.”

“Then stay here, my Sunlight. Just let me stay with you.”

“Always, Starry Sky.” Her voice broke a little and he pulled her even tighter.

“But after tonight, let’s get out of the city. Leave it all behind, make new memories, enjoy our freedom.”

“We did want to find a way for you to walk in the sun...”

“We could start with that, as long as we start making a life that’s our own.” Astarion was suddenly certain that whatever in them needed to be healed, it would not heal here, interred beneath the city’s rubble.

“I think you might have the right idea, after this dinner Duke Ravengard has invited us to.”

“Then rest tonight, my love, and we’ll talk on it more when you’re feeling well.”

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#bg3 #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #astarion x tav #bg3 tav #bg3 tav: Serafina #my fanfic #my writing #astarion x oc #fangs and fairytales

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yelenaslyubov · 25 days

Text

Cosmic Love

main masterlist || rhaenicent || requests

a/n: this is my first ‘a song of ice and fire’ universe fic i’ve written, as well as the first double character pairing fic i’ve written! i’m still getting the hang of it, so bear with me. i hope you enjoy it, friends! as always, if you want something, don’t be afraid to request it!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairing: rhaenyra targaryen x alicent hightower

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ warnings: cheesy sexy tooth rotting fluff x 1000 with a little side of angst.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ description: based on the events during the season two finale and loosely inspired by ‘cosmic love’ by florence + the machine, Alicent has made the journey to Dragonstone to strike a deal with Rhaenyra in regard to the crown. Rhaenyra is blindsided by the unexpected visit by Alicent, especially as Alicent wants Rhaenyra to follow her into the great beyond. what happens if Rhaenyra and Alicent are finally honest with themselves about where they stand?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 3.6k

DISCLAIMER: SOME OF THE DIALOGUE DOES NOT BELONG TO ME, IT BELONGS TO HBO!!!

Rhaenyra once again realized that sleep would not find her tonight. Of course, this was nothing new as of late, but there was still hope for improvement in her mind. The endless insomnia that seemed to never leave her would be the bane of her existence.

Ever since the death of Lucerys, Rhaenyra could never find a speck of sleep. Each time her eyes grew heavy, visions of her lost babe would appear to ensure sleep was never possible. It was now, more than ever, that sleep would improve her position.

The realm had its head turned to her and her opposers, and she would not be found lacking. With Daemon gone and some of her own army against her method of warfare, Rhaenyra felt hopeless.

She felt the flutter of her eyelids become heavy, slowly shutting them while thinking thoughts that brought good omens in hopes that tonight would be the night that she may get some rest. As her eyes shut, there was a knock at the door that was a tell tale sign that tonight was not the night for sleep.

Alicent’s held on to the rough, splintered side of the boat that was threatening to knock her off her feet. She had already regretted her choice as soon as she stepped afoot the large ship. The ocean was never her forte and this trip was only confirming her resentments.

She looked in the distance at the formidable island that lay for hundreds of years. She understood the significance, but she refused to acknowledge the indignation she held against it now. It was the home of her enemy, or so she thought. These days she felt her heart growing fonder for her once friend, hence her journey across the sea.

But these were not thoughts that she wanted to impede her brain at this time. They were too deep into the trifle that their indifference and misunderstanding had caused them. She must make haste in her quick thinking that had led her all the way to Dragonstone.

She was led off of the ship as soon as they touched land because wasting time was no option. Though speed was preferred, Alicent could not help but admire her surroundings. The castle and everything that it hugged was exactly how Rhaenyra described it to be. It all felt too surreal for Alicent.

Her fingers dragged along the cobblestone walls that prevented passerby’s from falling to their demise. She could feel the fire that lived here long before She felt it in her bones, and it was the same fire she felt that Rhaenyra had. Perhaps it was only in the name Targaryen, but perhaps it was much more than that.

Alicent approached the guards at the front entrance. “I am here to see Queen Rhaenyra,” she said plainly, even surprising herself by the address.

Each guard looked to each other deciding whether they would allow such a treachery to happen under their watch.

“I come unarmed and in need of confession in the late hour, I swear it.”

The guards took another look, even deeper this time. They studied her appearance; a light blue cloak with a hood to match, along with melancholy eyes. Against their better judgment, they let her through. Of course, this was not possible without the supervision of Rhaenyra’s own guard. He followed close behind and alerted another guard on watch that Queen Rhaenyra was expecting a visitor.

After completing the most daunting of their tasks, it was another struggle to weave through the castle. It proved well to have somewhat of a guide.

They reached a great room with a high ceiling. On the far side of the room was a tall staircase that led to another door. Alicent was asked to remain in the room and wait until prompted.

Rhaenyra prepared herself for whatever could be waiting beyond her quarters. A message delivered by raven could be waiting once again, news of Daemon, or anything that may cause her to lose even more sleep. What she did not expect was her childhood companion to be waiting on the other side.

As Rhaenyra followed her guard, she froze when she saw what was waiting for her.

“I had to see you,” said Alicent, moving closer across the room. Rhaenyra walked down the stairs, leaving Ser Lorent Marbrand.

“Who knows?” Rhaenyra asked.

“None save my protector. He laid down his sword at your gate.” Alicent’s voice was wavering with the weight of her regret. “I’ve been, I think…mistaken.”

Alicent explained the weight of the duty she had to carry all those years after Rhaenyra began to distain her. Her arms had been pulled in every direction possible, only finding moments to herself to indulge in the things that made herself happy.

Regardless of how she felt towards Alicent, Rhaenyra had changed. She was not the woman she was before. She was not the Queen she was before. She realized that now was the time for duty and honor, or so she thought.

Alicent explained that she had been wrongly led astray in her duties and priorities. She realized that there were very few times where she felt completely free, but she acknowledged now that her soul was peaceful. It was poor timing considering the realm’s current situation.

“I have been alone as of late. I walked outside the walls of the city and I felt a weight lifted from me,” she explained.

“How lovely for you,” Rhaenyra said, condescendingly.

“I thought, for the first time, what I would choose…if not for the duty I put before all else.”

Rhaenyra couldn’t help but chuckle at the sentiment. “Shall you cast your son down and rule alone?”

“No,” Alicent was quick to rebuttal. “I do not wish to rule, I wish to live. To be free of all this endless plotting and striving.

“The crown will pursue war and victory at any cost,” Rhaenyra sighed, hoping that Alicent was not naive enough to believe that she would be free of any repercussions.

“I…” Alicent began, “but as for me, I would take my daughter and her child and leave it all behind.

“It’s too late, Alicent,” Rhaenyra laughed.

Pathetic she was; Alicent that is. To think that after all this time she would be able to make freethinking decisions. She was entirely too deep into the war looming above their heads.

The hunger from selfish men could practically be smelled from miles away. There was no stopping their greed and desires now, not after the havoc that Alicent had caused.

“Oh, go then. Leave us behind, as you say.”

Alicent scoffed. “Rhaenyra.” Alicent walked away from Rhaenyra, almost as if she had given up on her original goal of coming to Dragonstone.

“Wander in the wilderness.”

Quickly, Alicent turned around facing Rhaenyra once again. “I came here to entertain you, or so I thought! Was it dim of me to believe that you may still have fondness in your heart for me? I see now that it was.”

“Alicent-”

“I came to ensure a way of peace, even at a price. I know the consequences of my actions and I will forever be reminded of them, but I want to make things right again. I knew your father well enough, and I was blinded by my own dignity and righteousness to see it was I who was mistaken; you have been the true heir.”

Rhaenyra was stunned by Alicent’s honesty. All this time she had taken her for a brainwashed fool, but it seemed that she had learned much in a short period.

“You do understand what this means and the allegations you just put out into the world? Your own son on the line, is that something you would live with?” Rhaenyra asked sincerely.

Alicent produced soft tears forming in the corner of her eyes. She knew the price she would pay for this treason, and yet she was willing to serve this sentence willingly.

“If I am to take the throne, I must put an end to the opposition. I must take Aegon’s head, and I have to do it for all to see. You know this. However you may try to evade it, you know this,” Rhaenyra explained.

Alicent’s tears grew and she held her head in her hands. She could not bear the thought of losing her own child, but the thought of throwing the entire realm into disarray because of his selfish decisions haunted her more. Both decisions could send her into deep despair, but which would bring peace to the masses?

“Choose,” Rhaenyra demanded. “Will you shrink from what you set out to do? Or will you see it through…and make your sacrifice? A son for a son.”

Both regents stared at one another with longing.

A son for a son. Rhaenyra knew the pain well, and casting this decision on another, let alone Alicent, was not made easily or even in good conscience. The thought itself made tears well in Rhaenyra’s eyes as well. They stared at each other and for once it seemed as if they shared each other’s pain. The pain of not only being a woman, but being a mother during these trying times they found themselves in.

Rhaenyra wiped away her tears. “You are much changed.”

“Let us be done with this, please,” Alicent begged.

“And what do I do with you now?”

“You let me go, to do what I promised. And you fly to the Red Keep in three days' time, and you take your throne. Or you take me a liar,” she scoffed. “I have neither weapon nor armor. My life itself is forfeit… I cast myself on the mercy of a friend who once loved me.”

Rhaenyra’s attention was pulled even more into focus at her words. “History will paint you a villain. A cold queen… grasping for power, and then defeated.”

“Let them think what they must. I am at last myself… with no ambition greater than to walk where I please and to breathe the open air. To die unremarked and unnoticed… and be free.”

Rhaenyra smiled fondly. “You speak as if from a distant dream.”

She could picture the two of them walking arm in arm across the courtyard to visit the Godswood as children. The distant dream was really a tried and true memory that was once loved by them both. They had missed each other so deeply but were afraid to admit it after Rhaenyra had felt so betrayed by her friend. Though, it was not Alicent’s fault at all as it was not her doing. It was simply another way for her father to gain the power and credibility he so longed for. Oh how the mighty have fallen.

Then, the energy in Rhaenyra’s chamber had shifted; it became lighter and hopeful. There suddenly was an air of forgiveness as well as an unidentified desire present that was yet to be seen.

“Come with me,” Alicent blurted. And so the mysterious desire became quickly apparent.

There seemed to be no decent answer that Rhaenyra could give Alicent that she could possibly muster in the moment. “And why should I do that?”

Alicent came closer. “Oh please, Rhaenyra. Why wouldn’t you?”

Rhaenyra looked down nervously, shuffling her feet. “I have my own duties, I have-”

“Would you please shed your act for one fleeting moment, I beg!” Alicent shouted, causing Rhaenyra to step back in utter shock.

Rhaenyra was taken aback by Alicent’s fury. She was angry now, but she did not quite know who she was angry at. More than likely it was herself that she was angry at, angry for being so blind all this time.

“I have not forgotten about the wish you so hopefully cast upon me that I declined against my better judgment.”

“May you remind me of this request?” Rhaenyra spat. Even though her tone was harsh, she felt fullness in her heart for the first time since she had all of her children surrounded in her presence.

“Back at the Godswood, when we were children,” Alicent said. “Oh, it sounds pathetic now, to think of the dreams we had when we were young. Alas, we were only children.”

“Yes,” Rhaenyra began, “we were.” She paused for a moment to gather her whereabouts, as well and dissect the assumptions that Alicent was alluding to. It was too early to be delving into such things, but Alicent had set out to do just that.

“A-at the Godswood,” Alicent moved closer, “do you remember what you once said?”

Rhaenyra was suddenly reminded of her words that she spoke as her head rested on Alicent’s leg. Additionally, Rhaenyra became frighteningly aware that the two of them were not alone.

Ser Lorent Marbrand stood near the stairs guarding the Queen in any attempt of harm. Rhaenyra waved him off.

“My Queen?” he pushed.

“You may go, Ser Lorent,” Rhaenyra demanded, but the guard stayed put. “You are dismissed!”

The guard left promptly after the Queen’s harsh display of dismissal. Rhaenyra waited until she heard the soft echo of his footsteps before continuing. She did not know exactly which direction this conversation may go, but based on the topics so far, it is one that she did not want others to be present for.

“Continue,” Rhaenyra said to Alicent.

“The words you spoke, your grace.” Rhaenyra was thoroughly shocked at the words that Alicent so carefully crafted. “You had said that-”

“‘I wanted to ride dragon back with you and explore the wonders far across the narrow sea,’” Rhaenyra finished.

“And eat only cake,” they both said in unison.

They remembered that time as if it had occurred only yesterday. They were children, friends, and enemies together. Secretly they hoped that they could be more.

“I cannot help but think, what if I would have agreed to those childish antics?” Alicent asked out loud.

“Why, after all this time have you decided to come crawling back?” Rhaenyra rebutted. “I would even argue that there has not been a more inconvenient time for such games!”

“This is not a game, Rhaenyra! Have I not poured myself out to you enough? What else would you have me do?”

They both paused to stare at one another. Rhaenyra stared deeply at Alicent, studying her expression and desire that she was so eagerly displaying in this moment. Alicent looked at Rhaenyra with the same childlike wonder that she once did. It was the same feeling, but also something brand new and foreign to both of them.

Rhaenyra walked away deeper into the room. She was looking for something she had stowed away a while before this that she thought might be of use. She walked back to Alicent with a slip of parchment in hand and held it out for her in hopes of taking it.

Alicent unfolded the small piece of parchment to reveal a ripped page of a book that she studied for a moment. She looked at Rhaenyra with her glassy expression.

“I assumed you had thrown it into the fireplace to let the flames engulf it,” Alicent said.

“I could not,” Rhaenyra shook her head. “Each time I found myself looking to it, I saw the happy memories of what once was.”

Alicent walked closer to Rhaenyra, causing her to shift in her place near the table. She had not come this close to Alicent since she disguised herself as a septa in order to make good with her, which did not bode well in the end.

Rhaenyra’s heart leaped when Alicent placed her hand atop of Rhaenyra’s. “We can restore those memories and be as we once were. I am sure of it,” Alicent said.

They looked in one another’s eyes to pinpoint the explanation of the longing they had been feeling the entire lonely night. “Let me set it right… please.”

Rhaenyra and Alicent never peeled their eyes away from each other in those fleeting moments. They stared so intently that Rhaenyra did not seem to notice that Alicent had taken her hand into her own, slowly raising it to her lips.

Alicent’s lips parted slightly as she brought them down to Rhaenyra’s hand. She left a gentle kiss upon the back of her hand, eyes never leaving the stars that gleamed within Rhaenyra’s eyes.

Rhaenyra could not wait any longer for the drawn out confession of her companion. She quickly placed her hand against Alicent’s flushed cheek, savoring the new warmth that she had been desiring for a decade.

“Oh, Alicent. We have been so blinded all this time,” Rhaenyra said, lovingly.

“I don’t believe we have been blind, only repressed from the things we truly wanted.”

Rhaenyra stroked Alicent’s cheek with her thumb, while also exploring extremely close to her lips. “How I have missed you.”

“Every light that guided me has been blown out since we have been apart. I always knew I would find my way back somehow,” Alicent explained.

Rhaenyra replaced her hand on Alicent’s cheek with her own lips. She could taste the heat radiating from Alicent’s skin, acting as motivation for her pleadings. Her lips moved closer to Alicent’s, but not without savoring each movement she made. Alicent sighed, her needs being fulfilled at last with the taste of Rhaenyra on her skin.

Alicent’s hands crawled to the back of Rhaenyra’s neck in hopes to guide her right where she wanted. To follow suit, Rhaenyra snaked her hands around Alicent’s bust to hold her close.

“It has been torture staying away from you these long years,” Rhaenyra whispered.

“And it is torture for me to watch you draw it out so,” Alicent whispered back, their lips almost touching. She waited for Rhaenyra to initiate their intimacy in hopes that Rhaenyra really did feel the same way she did.

Slowly, Rhaenyra lingered her parting lips over Alicent’s to graze each pair against each other. The breaths they took were shaky due to their built up nerves that started long ago. They yearned so much for one another that they were paralyzed with the realization that the moment they had waited for was here.

As if a mouse had spoken, Alicent spoke so softly. “I love you.”

“I loved you first,” Rhaenyra responded. “With all my heart.”

Rhaenyra broke the space between them with a kiss they had longed to share. Their kiss said more than they ever could to each other. It was a piece of them that became whole and healed again.

Both of them clawed at one another like rabid animals. Their hands were everywhere on their faces, their hips, their back, and spaces they never knew existed.

Their moans filled the air like a beautiful, intimate song. Rhaenyra tugged on Alicent’s long, curly hair, twirling it around her fingers as her lips moved against Alicent’s.

Alicent held Rhaenyra’s face in her hands as if it was the most precious jewel she had beheld. Her touch was gentle and loving. Alicent took her time to worship Rhaenyra just as she had been intending to do.

This was not near enough for Rhaenyra. She guided Alicent to the nearest wall to rest herself against. Rhaenyra pressed Alicent between the wall and her own burning body. Legends say that it took a special person to tame a dragon, but Alicent Hightower had Rhaenyra Targaryen wrapped around her finger.

Rhaenyra dug her nails into the side of Alicent’s neck while she left hot kisses along the side of her porcelain skin. There was barely skin left to touch by the time that Rhaenyra was done with Alicent.

Alicent had explored the most sensitive parts of Rhaenyra’s skin which elicited sensual responses each and every time. Her tongue was full of wonders as it snaked through Rhaenyra’s mouth and tangled within her own. They may savor the taste of each other for as long as they both roam the earth.

“Come with me,” Alicent hummed against Rhaenyra’s lips.

“And to where would we go?” Rhaenyra replied.

Rhaenyra felt Alicent smile against her lips, causing a roar of fire to be lit in her soul. “Anywhere, as long as it is with you, my Queen.”

“Mm, I could get used to that.” The words were like honey rolling off of her sweet lips. Rhaenyra could listen to her speak as long as she lived. “And what of the war? What shall we do with that?”

Their kissing ceased to exist for the moment which caused Alicent frustration. “Can we forget about that matter for the moment? The war will continue whether we are involved or not, you said it yourself. Bloodshed is inevitable.”

Rhaenyra studied Alicent’s face after she had spoken. There was an incessant need to be impulsive in her head which was frightening to her. She had never gone through those emotions, but there was a voice telling her to listen to the voice.

“Well, we had better get a move on then,” Rhaenyra said.

“You are quite serious?” Alicent laughed in disbelief.

“They say there is no time quite like the present, don’t they?”

And so, the two of them snuck around the darkened corridors of Dragonstone, weaving behind guards and avoiding questioning at all costs. Rhaenyra took Alicent down to the dragon pit for the first time. Syrax was Rhaenyra’s pride and joy, and it gave Rhaenyra great pleasure to fully show Alicent her world as she lived it.

Though Alicent had played her part in the Targaryen story, there was something incredibly profound about being in Dragonstone itself. Just like she had arrived, she could feel the furious energy down to the island’s bones. Real power had lived here for years and it was just getting started.

Playing a part in the Targaryen story took on a whole new meaning as the beginnings of a beautiful relationship bloomed between Rhaenyra and Alicent. They could sail and fly anywhere in the world, but home was such a pleasant place to start.

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